#i can’t remember what the school was and it’s too blurry to see

[lumiconic]

" even the sun is soft on the eyes "

✧ swimming with them at different times of day

✧ lyney, lynette, arlecchino ; fluff; it was supposed to have childe and freminent but i ran out of steam T.T

  lyney has a pyro vision, you know that; so his affinity for water must be nothing more than yet another magic trick. it doesn’t help that the golden sun, hanging high in the sky, practically blinds you with its light. when he flicks his hand and a spray from the river goes flying into your eyes, you consider dunking him if he likes it so much.

  “stop splashing me,” you protest, swatting him on the arm. “aren’t you supposed to be looking for rainbow lilies, or whatever?”

  “rainbow roses,” he corrects, wading through the river. his boots are on the bank and his pants are rolled up to his knees, but the vaguely expensive-looking fabric is already drenched, the stain spreading. he barely seems to notice, turning to you as he steps backward. “and if you aren’t gonna get in the water, then i’ll bring the water to – ”

  and then he’s gone with a massive splash, and you start laughing as you watch the flailing mass that’s his not-quite-able-to-swim self sink to the bottom of the river. and then you stop laughing and remember that oh yeah, he’s not quite able to swim. and then you start panicking and dive after him. 

  the water is freezing. it’s the hottest day you’ve had in ages but the deeper you swim, the colder it gets, goosebumps pricking up your arms that you’re barely able to see. you blink the blurriness from your eyes, chasing after lyney, who’s kicking furiously but still sinking with the weight of the heavy cape-thing trailing from his waistcoat. 

  he doesn’t look nervous or even slightly concerned yet. in truth, he could probably snap his fingers and magic himself back onto the riverbank. it’s ridiculous, but you can’t just swim away. at the very least, lynette would kill you. 

  he opens his mouth and a bunch of bubbles stream up towards the surface. his teeth gleam in the pale blue light. he seems to be able to see the scowl on your face, eyes crinkling; a school of gleaming silver fish whirls between you, and when it disappears, he’s on the bottom of the river, scraping into a gently waving anemone. 

  you want to shout what are you doing? but your voice won’t make any noise, much less travel to where he is, while in the water. you punch the water wildly, connecting with a fish exactly as lyney looks up. it squeals, darts away, and he looks at you like you’re a monster. you throw your hands up, floating in place for a moment, before paddling towards him again. 

  he’s still pawing through the fronds of a glowing mushroom-looking thing. you can see the shining blue powder collecting under his fingernails from where you are. he looks like he’s walking along the bottom, one hand clapped over his mouth and the other clenched on a rock to keep him anchored. you scoff, bubbles escaping your lips, and kick towards the bottom.

  “hey!” you hear him exclaim, though it’s more like a garbled shout than an actual word as you link one arm through his, tugging him away from the plants. this deep, it’s like you’ve plunged into a bathtub full of ice cubes. you have no idea how he’s dealing with the cold. “i’m – ”

  the rest of it is lost in bubbles as you brace your legs against the sandy floor, pushing downwards as hard as you can, and you go rocketing towards the sky. he makes some protesting noise, trying to wrestle out of your grip, but you hold on tightly. he would sink like a rock, and then you would have to fight him to come up again. you want to roll your eyes, but… you can’t force yourself to be annoyed. not really.

  you realize his vision is emanating heat. the longer he clings to your arm, the more warmth spreads through you. the river feels less like an ice cube, more like a hot spring. under his puffy sleeves, you can just barely feel his skin, as hot as a fire. if you held on for too long, you might get burned. 

  but right now, it’s okay. right here, when it’s just you and him.

  “i was doing fine,” is the first thing lyney says when his head breaks the surface. you let him go and swim a few feet away. he shakes droplets out of his hair, spraying in a circle; you can’t complain this time since you’re soaking wet too. it’s all you can do not to push him back under. “and i got a bunch of them!”

  “your sister would steal a gardemek and run me over if i just let you sink down there.” you glare at him, crossing your arms as you find a place to stand, feet barely scraping the underwater grass. “i’ve seriously had enough of you – how can you possibly live in fontaine and not know how to swim? and a bunch of what?”

  he digs in his coat, opening his mouth then closing it, a look of panic passing over his face. “w-wait – there’s no way i dropped it as i was coming up, right? after all that work?” he pats down his pockets, eyes going wide as plates. “i think i really did… oh, how could this happen! and i was so proud of myself, too.”

  despite yourself, your face softens. even if you’re annoyed, you have to feel bad at his rapidly mounting dismay. “what did you lose? i can go get it for you, if it’s that important.”

  his gaze whisks to you and you see the corner of his mouth turn up. he reaches towards you, scanning the water and the air around your face as you tilt your head up. “just – wait, i think i see it… aha!” he flicks the wet hair away from your temple and pulls a rainbow rose, shimmering and delicate, from behind your ear. “there it is.” 

  “you – ” you’re speechless, heat creeping up your neck. “where the hell… ”

  “a magician never reveals his secrets, etcetera etcetera.” lyney winks at you, peeling back his sleeve, and a whole pile of flowers falls into the water, bobbing there. the colors are iridescent, gleaming and fantastical. they looks like magic. though, maybe it’s not fair to compare them to magic, not when he’s right there.

  you search for words for a long moment. it’s harder than you would think, with his eyes on you. he shifts his weight forward, displacing the roses in the water. “... you know, you’re supposed to do that trick with a coin.”

  lyney clicks his tongue. “i thought you’d have figured out by now that i don’t do things the conventional way, my lovely.” the name makes your heart beat a bit faster. you swallow. he offers you the first rose and lifts his eyebrows. “go on, you can have it. put it in a vase and think of me whenever you see it.”

  “as if i need a reminder to think of you,” you mumble, taking it and rolling it between your hands. he seems not to hear you, humming as he turns, dragging the tips of his fingers through the surface. the petals are soft, yellow stamen dripping with a thick, sweet scented nectar. “but this is nice too, i guess.”

   you sit on the beach, gazing at lynette through your sunglasses as she skips through the grass a little while away. her boots don’t sink into the ground, moving like she’s lighter than air, despite the sun-softened, slightly damp earth; the tides washing up gently on the sand don’t seem to have any effect on it, either. or maybe she’s not really touching the ground at all. 

  she bends, scoops a glittering silver shell out of the water and pockets it. the water drips through the gauzy fabric of her leotard, and she twirls in place, skirt spinning out. water droplets spray in a circle, carrying through the air in a sudden breeze. she looks towards the horizon, seeming to watch the grass and trees sway in the wind.

  “hey,” you call out. “come here a second.” her ears twitch in your direction and she approaches you, tilting her head down. her hair blows gently back and forth, carrying the sweet scent of peaches and mint towards you, like a fragrant tea. you wouldn’t be surprised if that really was a flavor of tea she had been drinking earlier; you need to tell her sometimes to quit overdoing the caffeine. too often you’ve found her after midnight, reading with bags under her eyes and a teapot emptied ten times over.

  she sits down and you slide your sunglasses onto her head, pushing them down over her eyes. her tail twitches. “what are you doing?”

  “you shouldn’t look directly at the sun,” you admonish. “i know a boy who went out every day without glasses or anything and one day he went blind just like that.” you snap your fingers on the last word. her expression doesn’t change and she doesn’t make any noise, but you feel like you can feel an aura of disapproval radiating from her. you wilt, pouting at her. “huh, no reaction?”

  “you’re obviously lying,” she says plainly.  “i can tell from spending so much time around lyney.”

  “oh, of course,” you say, a smile tugging at your lips. you get to your feet. “come on, we’re here, so why don’t we go in the water? you know a lot of tricks, so you should show me!” 

  you can’t quite see lynette’s eyes through the dark sunglasses, but she shifts her weight to one side, leaning on her hip and unbuckling her boots hesitantly. “... they’re nothing special, but if you really want to see, then i guess – ” 

  “great!” you cheer, pumping your fist and tugging her over the ground to the shallows by the arm. you can’t help but shiver at the sudden chill, but she barely looks bothered, moving like the water doesn’t even exist. her steps are light, sending pale gold sand billowing through the waves, and she whisks away from you in an instant as though she’s dancing.

  she reorients herself, facing a marble pillar edged in gold that sticks out of the water. in a matter of moments she’s submerged up to her chest, and your view of her lower body is distorted as she heads towards the pillar. you clap your hands delightedly, scanning the beach and then racing towards a nearby boat a couple feet from the shore. you scramble onto it, heaving your frame up and over the side to sit with your legs dangling into the lake.

  “go, lynette!” you shout, cupping your hand by your lips to project your voice towards her. she leans her head to the side and looks at you, bright purple eyes glinting as brightly as the inside of an iridescent clamshell. the side of her mouth ticks up in a half-smile. she has your sunglasses clasped in one gloved hand and tucks them into another unseen pocket as she propels herself to the pillar.

  the marble is wet and slippery and from where you’re sitting, you can’t see any cracks or bumps in the smoothly polished stone that could possibly allow her to have such a steady grip, but she climbs easily, scrambling up the side to prop her legs on the top. lynette stares out over the lake, over the city; she feels miles away, coils of hair fluttering around her face. she looks picturesque. she looks like a painting.

  in a heartbeat, she’s on her feet and raising her arms over her head. you’ve seen synchronized swimmers before, with their elegant movements and expensive costumes, and her silhouette against the sun isn’t so far from theirs; with her frilled leotard, gaze sharp as needles and hands reaching towards the sky, she could be one. just another one of her many talents.

  she leaps from the pillar, fingers stretched out before her, and you want to applaud. applaud before she’s even done anything. then again, being with her always feels like a performance. like a dance. here you are, barely a few meters away, and – her eyes are closed. she doesn’t see you as she plummets from the sky to the sea. it feels like there’s something between you, like if you held out your hand you would meet something solid. a wall. or a curtain. 

  there’s barely a splash as she plunges through the surface, tumbling into the water. she disappears in a mass of glittering white bubbles. you lose sight of her, and then she reappears, and you want to jump too, duck underwater to see her fully. to take in every bit of her. 

  her tail flicks behind her, hands pushing through the depths as she goes deeper, less like she’s sinking and more like she’s falling through a clear blue sky. her hair flutters like a bird soaring in the air. she looks so gorgeous, so graceful. someday she will flap her wings and fly away from you. you know that as well as you know anything. when the inevitable deadly winter comes – she will be gone.

  but not yet. you can still keep your eyes on her, floating in the water. you can cup this moment and keep it close to your heart until it’s all you have left.

  lynette surfaces, pushing wet hair out of her eyes, the platinum color darkened to silver. she looks exhilarated, cheeks filled with color, breaths coming fast for a moment before they slow down, returning to her usual impassivity. she looks at you, barely kicking to stay afloat. “... what’s with that look?” she asks, one eyebrow arching. 

  you blink, lean forward to see your reflection. it’s slightly distorted by the soft ripples, but you’re smiling, eyes sparkling. eyes wet. 

  “did something happen?” she asks. her tone is slightly laced with concern. it makes your throat tighten. “you look… emotional.” 

  you lift your head, brushing one hand over your face, avoiding her gaze. “just looking at something pretty,” you say, eyes on the horizon. “that’s all.” 

  arlecchino’s face is cold and stony as always, like her features have been carved out of porcelain, but you think maybe you can trick yourself into seeing a hint of affection in her dark eyes. at the very least, she hasn’t drowned you yet, though her hands have twitched a few times towards your throat when you splashed her “by accident”.

  “it’s so cold,” you complain, dragging your feet through waving strands of seaweed. “it feels like winter.”

  “i don’t feel anything,” arlecchino says, hands laced behind her back. her voice is even, unbothered by the temperature. her suit’s train trails through the surface of the water, silken cloth fading in and out of ice-white, bloodred and gleaming silver. she’s tired today, unable to muster any more words than what’s strictly necessary.

  you tilt your head, smiling wryly as you step towards her. “probably because you’re the reason it’s cold.” it’s true, though she only blinks slowly at the remark; the water cools several degrees around her waist. you’ve made remarks before that she resembles a statue when she stands still, and now is no different – rising out of the lake with the sun setting behind her, hair gleaming like snow. 

  “why are we here again?” she questions. her heels are caught in the murky sand. “we both know that i’m not a swimmer.” 

  “just wait for a bit, until night.” your arms are wrapped around yourself, but you still manage an excited smile, an i-know-something-you-don’t smile. you’re the only person who ever looks at her like that; she’d bite the head off anyone else who dared, but… she just inclines her head. “fine. after that, i’m going home.”

  “okay, okay.” 

  the time passes leisurely. you float on your back, showing arlecchino rocks and shells that you’ve plucked from the sand. she doesn’t respond beyond a nod to most of them, but your pockets grow heavy with the ones that receive an appreciative blink. you snatch up a hermit crab and place it in her hand; when it pinches her palm, she threatens to crush and eat it, prompting a cry of outrage from you.

  the sun slowly drifts below the horizon; golden bleeding to red, then to dark orange, then a sedated gradient of blue. wind whistles through the trees surrounding the lake, and the cries of birds grow quieter and quieter. this secluded pocket of fontaine – far away from the city, the aquabus and anyone who could interrupt you – is somewhere arlecchino has never been. somewhere you’ve been begging to show her for a while now. so far she’s seen nothing remarkable about it, and if it was anyone else, she’d go home, but…

  but.

  the sun is completely gone by now, and the sky is velvet black and speckled with stars. you’re shivering, the shoulders of your gauzy shirt soaked through as you bemoan your decision to wear such thin layers. her face is cold, her eyelids are drifting shut; exhausted from days and days of nonstop work. a thousand duties for the tenth harbinger. 

  and yet you want so badly to show her, whatever it is that you’ve been waiting all day for. so she can stay at least a moment longer.

  the sky dims a bit more, and you push yourself up and onto the riverbank. arlecchino follows a moment after, and as the water laps at her boots, it feels like a shadow passing over her. she tilts her head up and sees that a cloud has drifted past the moon, dimming its silver glow; the air is cold and crisp like a peppermint. you’re sitting with your knees pulled up to your chest. 

  she sits beside you feeling like a child awaiting instruction, legs stretched out in front of her, and looks up at the sky. there’s a few heartbeats where the sound of your breathing fills her ears, shivering and frosty puffs escaping your lips, and then you make a delighted noise. “look, look,” you say, pointing at the water. “it’s glowing.”

  arlecchino glances at you, blinking slowly as if you’re playing a trick on her. but your eyes are riveted to the scene below. she tilts her head, looking down at it, and sees the bright blue sparkles, glimmering in the water like a thousand stars, fallen down from the night sky to rest in the sea. her breath catches in her throat. the river glitters as though it’s filled with gems.

  “isn’t it amazing?” your fingers twitch, like you’re going to try and reach out, touch it. she inches her hand forward inconspicuously, ready to catch you if you lean just a bit too far. you’re not looking at her, transfixed. “it’s beautiful. it looks like a dream.” 

  she peers at it. the azure gleam reflects in her black eyes, the red x-shape of her pupils standing out like fire in a field of flowers. she reaches out, stretches as far as she can, brushes her long, sharp nails through the surface of the water; blue light blooms wherever she touches it. her lips curve up slightly, then press into a flat line again.

  “it’s… ” she stops and blinks fast. “it’s just algae. it’s science. plants. it’s not… a miracle, or anything. there’s no need to fawn over it like that.” 

  you pull your knees up to your chest, touch the top of her hand. her skin is cold, dry and without pores, no marks in her skin anywhere. smooth and empty. you trace the silver lines threading over her fingertips like veins. “even if it’s not magic, it can still be a miracle. you know that, right?”

  she lets you run your hand over her fingers for a moment longer, then pulls it away. “... maybe. but it’s nothing exceptional. it’s a plankton. we could come back here tomorrow night and see it again. it’ll never go anywhere.”

  “that doesn’t change anything,” you say. arlecchino can feel your gaze on her. she looks down into the water, sees the fish swimming through the luminescence, tries to ignore your eyes burning like flames into the side of her head. it’s too pleasant of a feeling to her, who doesn’t understand pain. “just because it’s always there doesn’t mean it’s any less beautiful. maybe that makes it more special.”

  “absence makes the heart grow fonder,” she hums. “you’d probably appreciate it even more if it disappeared for a while.”

  “i don’t think so.” you lean into her, slowly, tentatively. she doesn’t push you away, tucking her hands into her pockets. you shift your attention back down to the sea, as if you’re speaking to it when you say, the radiance of the water illuminated in your irises, “i’d rather have you here with me.”

© lumiconic ; please reblog and follow if enjoyed

#bonus points if you can guess where the title is from!! #<3.writing #lyney x reader #lyney imagines #lynette x reader #lynette imagines #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino imagines

[lovdlydaz]

𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴.

switch!mingi x switch!san x black!afab!reader

your boys are so dumb and in love sometimes, not knowing what or how to act around you or in public. you adore them though, but their affection can be too much for you sometimes.

warnings: fluff to smut, himbo energy, p in v, unprotected sex, praise, slight choking, slight pain kink, spanking if you squint, everyone is switches, oral (m and f receiving), js some himbo sex enjoy

a/n: i absolutely adore the idea of lovesick himbos mingi and san, they’re literally the definition of himbo energy. also ive been brainrotting on them since they’re my biases so yeah—anyways, enjoy lovelies! i just need to get this off my chest before i continue the txt series.

you loved your boys to the ends of the earth, you would do anything for them. they gave you so much energy, so much life, and they knew exactly how to make you happy whenever you were sad or stressed out about work or school. they would always give you hugs and cuddles, share their food with you and make up fun little games that you all could play in order to make you smile. they knew everything about you, and that’s what you loved about them.

so, you came home yet again feeling extremely stressed due to the amount of work your boss had put on you to do before the end of your shift. you were tired and just ready to go to bed, but your boys were on the couch playing video games and trying to kill their opponent. once they saw you slug through the door they paused the game, san coming up to you and wrapping his arms around you. “what’s wrong babe? another tough day?” he asked, to which you nodded. mingi got up and hugged you from behind, leaning his head down and smelling the nape of your neck.

your perfume you wore always never seemed to fade away, even as the day went on. you almost never reapplied it either, which mingi could smell but you still smelled like heaven. he looked up at san and gave him a look, which the man nodded. they both then pulled away from you and you were about to fall asleep from their body heat, but you stopped yourself and stayed upright to see what they had planned. you could only see through blurry eyes that they were going into your shared bedroom, closing your eyes for a little until you heard loud screaming—there they were.

they both had on princess tiaras and earrings, some pretty makeup and plump lips. you wondered how they did that so fast; but you didn’t question it. however, what you did notice was how they also had gotten into your wardrobe and got dressed that you normally didn’t wear, squeezing into them and giggling. once you realized how far they really went to make you smile your face beamed, giggling softly and looking up at the both of them. “you guys! you both look so funny—how did you even manage to fit in these?” you walked up to them and started to touch all over their dresses, smiling the entire time.

“well, apparently san knew how to put on a dress, and i just thought of it the same as wearing a long shirt—i was so wrong,” mingi exhaled, smiling once he felt your tiny hands on his body. “i only know how to put on a dress because of a concert we had that one time and i had to wear something like a dress—remember that mingi?” he asked, mingi nodding and grinning. “yeah! you looked so cool man. i wish i got to wear the cool stuff during our concerts…” he pouted, making you turn to him. “mingi, you’re one of the only people who GET to wear the cool outfits. you can’t complain,” he told him, making mingi frown but giggle after. “yeah… i guess you’re right y/n. but… do you feel better now?” he asked, both of your puppy-eyed boyfriends staring straight at you to see what you would say.

you just cheesed and laughed, nodding your head as you got out your phone. “yes, yes i do! now smileee!” you singsonged, the two men posing as you took pictures of them. once you were done you pocketed your phone, hugging them both and they wrapped your arms around you smaller form. you pulled away after a minute and looked up at the both of them, their smiles never wavering with your own.

now you three were in bed, cuddled up together and watching a movie on the big TV san had bought for your birthday. it was one of your favorite movies and, while the boys didn’t necessarily understand it, they never said anything because it always made you smile. you were the light of their lives, seeing you was the one thing that motivated them to get up in the morning. they felt like your relationship would last until the day they die. nobody could really ever break the three of you apart.

you say between the two men, basically using them as a sort of blanket even though you had one on all of you. you watched the movie with gleaming eyes, and san happened to notice that your hands were staying on your body instead of wondering like they normally would. so, he grabbed your hand and placed it in his lap, holding it but never taking his eyes off the movie. of course mingi didn’t notice this, but he wrapped his arms around you to keep you even warmer. your cuddle sessions were the best in your opinion, and you could never ever not be satisfied by the end of it.

however, there was a certain scene during the movie that always had you blushing, when the love interest and protagonist were doing some unholy things. now the hand that was on san’s lap tried to move away, but the bigger man kept it there. he knew how flustered you got with this scene, even though you watched this movie about a hundred times, this part always made you flustered. mingi knew as well, and he used it to put his hand on your thigh, running it slowly up your pajama shorts near your womanhood. you gulped, catching san’s attention.

“what’s wrong pretty girl? movie too much for you?” he purred, getting close to your ear and kissing right underneath it, near your jawline. you shivered and started to feel yourself getting aroused, whimpering softly as the men continued on. you understood why watching movies like this was a bad idea with them around, they were men in their mid twenties whose libidos were through the roof. especially with you. their dicks and muscles talked more than their brain half the time, but you enjoyed that more than you would like to admit.

now here you were, spread on the bed while san was nose deep in your pussy. mingi sat behind you, fondling your breasts and pressing his plump lips against your darker skin. “fuck baby, lookin’ so good for both of us aren’t you?” he mumbled against your skin, causing you to let out a desperate whimper as san continued with his tongue. “tastes just like chocolate too, so delicious and sweet,” the smaller man panted, going back to indulge himself in your taste. both their cocks were rock hard and throbbing against their boxers, mingi not really being secretive that you were turning him on.

he rolled his hips against your back, moving a hand away from your breasts to grab your braids, pulling them back and forcing your head back. you gasped before his lips pressed against your own, drool escaping from the disgustingly desperate kiss. you could feel your orgasm coming the more san’s tiny yet skilled tongue moved against your labia and your clit. he was eating you so good, tasting your sweetness on his tongue and making him go insane. he was so easy to get pussy drunk, you did that to him. both of your boys were so easily under the influence, your pussy had a spell on them that they couldn’t get enough of.

you pulled away from the kiss and just laid your head against mingi’s shoulder, moaning the closer you got to orgasm. “f—fuck— sannie, min— fuck!” you cried out the last part, legs shaking as your orgasm flowed all over san’s tongue. he slurped up every single bit of your juices, mingi massaging your breast and holding your neck. “good girl, that’s our good girl. now give us some more for the night yeah? can you do that baby?” he cooed, you still in the aftershocks of your orgasm but drunkly nodding. “mhm, can give y’all some more,” you breathed out, making mingi smirk.

meanwhile, when san finished he stood up from the bed, a wet spot on his boxers as he panted from the pure desire beaming within him. he looked up at you and mingi, climbing onto the bed and pressing his thinner lips against yours. you kissed back, your plump lips smearing the lipstick and lip gloss all over his lips. mingi’s hand was still around your neck, leaning down to press more kisses against your jawline and neck. you loved this attention, and they knew that. so, they stopped kissing you and moved you onto san’s lap, right against his boner that was begging to come out of their clothed confines.

san looked down at your smaller form, your braids falling over your shoulders and your lipgloss smeared all over your lips. your big e/c eyes gave him that look that made him lose his mind, so best believe he was going to give it to you good. he lifted you up softly to pull down his boxers, kicking them to the ground and sitting you back on his lap. your ass was grinding right up against his leaking hard on, making him suck in a breath and look back at mingi. the blonde haired man had his cock in his hand, stroking softly as he stared at the both of you. “go on, let her sit on it.” he commanded the black haired man, making him nod his head and grip your hips with enough tightness to have them bruise in the morning.

you looked back at san, since your back was against his chest. “please sannie, use me,” you begged oh so sweetly, you were too much for them both. that was all the black haired man needed to hear before he shoved you all the way his thick cock, hearing your sweet voice cry out with pleasure and shock. he let out a breathy moan at the feeling of your tightness around him so suddenly. you smirked down at him, grabbing his chin softly and rubbing his lip with your thumb. “you feel s’good around me sannie… such a big boy fuckin’ me,” you groaned out, making his cock twitch up inside you.

mingi watched you two with hungry eyes, he wanted in on the action but watching you start to grind your hips down on san and seeing his eyes roll back with pleasure had his attention more than his cock did, you were so sexy. your lashes fluttering with each movement, big plump lips glossy and covered with everyone’s spit as sweet moans escaped your throat. the sweet sound of your moans made the two men go absolutely insane, san’s cock was twitching madly inside of you because of how sweet you were.

mingi got an idea. he crawled over to the both of you, stopping your hips with a hard grip of your hips, tapping san’s shoulder and making him turn his head. he then whispered something in his ear, making san nod his dazed head and lay down. mingi grabbed your face and opened your mouth, spitting into it and making you swallow. you looked so dazed and you loved the messiness, it was so hot how a switch would flip inside them every time you three had sex.

the blonde was hovering over san’s face, his shaved hole right over the man’s mouth. the tallest had made sure to wash himself good too, since he didn’t want his friend and lover to taste something disgusting inside him. san’s little black eyes were hazed and filled with desire, his hands reaching up to grab mingi’s hips. he then forcefully pulled the man down to his face, basically suffocating himself with mingi’s ass. the blonde gasped and moaned softly, while his hands still holding your face guided it down to where his cock was. “fuck— suck it baby, know you can,” he grunted, you not needing to be twice before your whole mouth wrapped around his tip, your hand grabbing the parts that weren’t inside your mouth.

mingi’s eyes rolled back with pleasure, the overwhelming sensation of his boyfriend eating him out while his girlfriend sucked his dick made him lose his mind, and he loved it. san was enjoying this as well, because he was getting harder inside you and you weren’t even moving. you were getting wetter around him from hearing them both groan and whimper because of how good the sex was, you needed another orgasm.

you were on your knees and san’s hips were completely on the bed, not moving until he noticed how much your hole clenched and unclenched around him. he decided to start moving his hips, thrusting up into you and forcing your head to fly back in a frenzy. you moaned so loudly, mingi whining from the loss of contact and eyes begging you to continue. you of course didn’t see them so he grabbed your face and pushed you back onto his cock, moaning because of how good your wet mouth felt. your braids were all over the place now, sticking to your skin as sweat glistened over your chocolate body.

mingi’s eyes couldn’t believe himself, the two hottest people in the world were eating him out and sucking his dick. from watching you and san break underneath him he came in just a few minutes, filling your mouth up with his hot and tasty seed. you swallowed all you could, trying to get every last drop to savor the flavor. he rolled his eyes back and laid his head back, hands accidentally landing on san’s shoulders and pressing his whole weight onto them. san softly smacked mingi’s ass to tell him to let up, but all that elicited out of him was a moan. so, san did it again, this time harder, and the man got the message.

he let up on san, moving his ass up from his face and letting the man breathe. the black haired man’s face was covered in saliva, but he looked pleased with himself. he was still so close to orgasm, he needed something more to help him get there though. your pussy was more than enough but, he just needed more. so, mingi leaned down and kissed those thin yet cherry red lips of his, and that made him cum. you were riding him the whole time, moaning as he filled you up.

you came soon after, clamping around his sensitive cock and moaning alongside him. after a minute or so you got off of his cock, mingi staring at your creamy brown pussy ooze of you mixed contents. “c’mere honey, lemme eat you,” he panted, grabbing you softly and pulling you towards him. he laid down and sat you on his face, you rolling your eyes back as he devoured you. san was back up and kissing your lips, you whimpering into his mouth as mingi cleaned you up. after a good few minutes you came into his mouth, him cleaning up that substance as well.

after another minute or so you tapped his thigh, moving your hips away to signal your overstimulation. he let you do so, since he knew that you had work in the morning and he didn’t want you to be too late. however, he smack your ass a few times before letting you come up, you gasping at the smacks and rolling your eyes back.

san watched and bit his lip, his cock twitching but not coming back to life. mingi’s surprisingly hadn’t come back to life either, but that was because it took all his power not to get hard. you looked up at the both of them, your lashes almost falling off your face due to the sweat making the adhesive wear away, you were panting and shaking because of how good you had just felt.

your boys laid down with you, smiling and giggling because of how sweet you looked. you were so fucked out, and they knew how good they made you feel. they hugged you as you slowly drifted off, not before mumbling a sweet “good night”, to which they responded with in-unison “good night babe!” before you were out like a light. the other two stayed up to watch you, giggling and laughing while they watched you sleep. however, they did go to sleep after a few hours, and you all looked so peaceful together.

you loved your himbo boys, and they loved you. they may be air headed and think with their muscles half the time, but they knew exactly how to make you feel better and how to fuck you good. they were your world, and you were theirs. it was mutually a really great relationship.

© gg 2023. dividers were made by me. do not steal, use, or repost my work without my consent. reblogging/interaction is welcomed.

#female reader #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez san #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez #ateez mingi #mingi x black reader #mingi x reader #mingi smut #mingi fluff #san x you #san x y/n #san x black reader #san x reader #san smut #san fluff #kpop smut #kpop fluff

[jacaerysgf]

So i was thinking about enemies to lovers jacaerys x ftm!reader like they know each other since they were kids but they're always fighting/competing with each other and then someone from their school throw a party and they got very drunk and ended up fucking (ofc jace teases the hell out of him)

a.n: literally pure filth, enjoy ! can be read as gn! but it is intended to be m! just a little drabble

w.c: 800+

c.w under cut

masterlist - requests open

c.w: bottom!also kinda mean but sub!reader, mean? dom!top!jace, college au, barely any plot, teasing, slut shaming, anal (implied), anal fingering, anal eating (implied), male masturbation (kinda?),slight breeding kink i guess ? rivals to lovers(?)/fwb? can be interpreted either way, not proofread

“Always knew you were a fucking slut.”

You don’t even remember how you ended up here. You and jace have always had a sort of rivalry. Ever since you met you two never really got along, you were civil when you needed to be, but any chance you would get you two would exchange insults.

“When are the two of you gonna fuck already?” You remember looking at your friend with confusion, “What are you talking about?”

“Are you kidding me? The hate fucking you guys would have is insane.”

“You say that like you didn't just have your tongue up my ass.” You feel a harsh slap against your ass cheeks and you whimper. “Shut the fuck up slut.”

“Make me you piece of shit.” He says nothing in return. You don’t see what he’s doing, laying on your stomach makes it near impossible to look at him, you hear some wet sounds before you suddenly feel a finger slip into your hole and moan.

“You were too fucking ready for that, what a fucking whore.” No sounds leave your mouth other than hushed moans as he begins to pump his finger in and out. “Now you wanna be quiet huh? you were running your mouth earlier what happened?” You can hear the fake concerned voice and you can even imagine the pout on his face as he mocks you.

“Please.” He shoves a second finger in and moves so his face is right next to your ear, managing to catch your teary eyes, “Awe,” He wipes a tear from you face but the look he gives you shows he doesn't care, “Look at you, so cute.”

“Fuck you.” You manage to cry out and you watch his jaw clench and he tsks at you. “Seems like nobody taught you how to show some respect.” Suddenly his fingers are ripped out of you and you whine, wiggling your ass in his direction to get him to put them back in.

He slaps your ass, “Stop fucking whining,” He flips you around and he’s suddenly straddling you, holding his cock in his hands, “you need to be punished so you’re gonna sit there and watch.”

You stare at him, trying to keep your eyes off his dick as he begins to stroke himself, his eyes closing as he begins to moan. “Fuck.” No matter how much squirming and whining you do he does not let up, continuing to force you watch him pleasure himself while you’re withering in pain from how turned on you are.

“jace,,,” “shut up, im fucking close.”

He has you laying on your hands so you can’t even reach up and grab him. “I’m sorry jace please.” He just laughs and shakes his head, continuing to jerk himself off. “Now you wanna be sorry right? right as im about to cum, awe are you upset im not cumming in you?”

He grabs your jaw with one hand and forces you to look him, “What you want that? You want me to stuff you full?” You nod as best you can and you try to see his facial expression through your blurry teary eyes.

You see him come closer into view until his lips press against yours, unlike how he has been treating you he kissed you softly. Both of his hands move to cup your cheeks, you can feel him smiling against your lips and as he pulls back he wipes some of the tears off your face.

“You good?” His voice is softer than it had been before, clearly checking in on you. Your heart swells at his actions and you nod. “Yes, i promise, im good.” He hums and pecks your lips one more time before he gets off you and harshly turns you over and pulls your hips up and a hand comes down to force your chest against the bed.

You can’t help but feel slightly humiliated at the position but you can think about that right as his fingers rub around your hole. “You’re so cute.”

“Saying that to my ass?” “What? She’s cute, look at her puckering at my fingers.” “My ass is a she?” “To make you feel better ill say my dick is also a she.” “Fuck you.”

Apparently in that time you were chatting he had lubed up his dick and began to stick the head of his dick inside you, “I'm fucking trying to.”

perm jacaerys taglist <3

@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @aegonswife

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd imagine #jacaerys targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys strong #prince jacaerys #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #hotd jacaerys #jacaerys x reader #jace x you #jace velaryon #jace targaryen #jace x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #hotd x y/n #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #house targaryen #jacaerys #jacaerys x male reader

[gejo333]

Perfect Picture

Miguel O’Hara x fem! Reader

Pt.2

Summary: Your job was to take the perfect photo of Spider-Man, however, your constant presence starts to annoy Miguel. After his final straw he teaches you a lesson.

18+ Warning!!! This one-shot has smut.

I wanted to post sooner! But I was away for the weekend and there was no service🥲. But here is a long one-shot as an apology!

Word Count: 2.3k

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You quickly ducked down as a piece of flying debris came towards you. When it was clear you ran to get slightly closer. Kneeling down behind a trash can you take your camera out of its bag. Being an investigative/photojournalist was your dream career. You worked your ass off through school to now say you work as a writer for the Nueva York Times. As if your dream career couldn’t get better, you were assigned to find out Spiderman’s identity. And of course to take photos of him in action.

Quickly moving from one hiding spot to another, you take a photo of Spiderman defeating one of his regular villains. Of course getting the shot made the spider aware of you.

“What are you doing here?” Spiderman groans in annoyance as he spotted a certain female photojournalist hiding behind some rubble. Leaving your hiding spot, you slowly walk up to him.

“What do you think?” You sass him back, further irritating him.

He walks over to you suddenly, which slightly flusters you, taking a step back until you're pinned against a wall. Cheeks slightly flushed, as he towers over you. Despite being a semi-tall woman, you felt small as he hovered over you. His body was less than an inch away from yours. He leans down masked-face in front of yours.

He was so close you could smell his cologne, which bothered you in a way you wish it didn’t.

“Stop following me.You’re going to get in my way.” His voice was low and threatening.

Though you couldn’t visibly see his eyes, you felt his intense gaze looking at your face, your body. His presence intimidated yout, yet you gathered the courage to place your hand on his cheek.

“Awww, you poor Príncipe. Is my presence bothering you?” A fake pout graces your lips. You let out a light chuckle. You were surprised that he didn’t swat your hand away from his face, but it gave you the courage to place your other hand on his chest.

“You know I can’t stop until I get the perfect picture of Nueva York’s Spiderman.” You place both hands on his chest as you gently move them up his torso. “And I think I know what that picture is.”

You were about to grasp a hold of his mask to lift it off his face, but he quickly caught your wrists and pulled them over your head against the wall. He leans his face to your ear. Your cheeks turn pink as you feel his hot breath against your skin.

“Keep acting naughty Princesa…I might just have to punish you.” His words sent a chill up your body. But before you could breathe another word, he was gone.

…

The TV flashed bright against the darkness of your apartment. However, you were distracted by the photos displayed on your computer. A loud groan escaped from your lips as none of the photos you took were good enough to send to your boss. Although there were more than 100 shots taken, all of them either appeared blurry or Spiderman was barely in it. There was one that entirely captured him, but the photo was slightly too blurry for your nit-picky boss.

You hope to get a better shot before the deadline in two days, but your hopes were nowhere near your ceiling. Thoughts of Spiderman from earlier today flooded your mind. Out of all the times you encountered him, he never acted like that before. Your face feels hot as you remember his hot breath against your skin, the sweet scent of his cologne, and the way he let you touch him. What made you feel hotter was his last words. Though your thoughts wandered to certain answers, you still weren’t exactly sure what he meant by punishing you if he caught you following him again.

The news playing in front of you peaked your interest as breaking news of another villain wreaking havoc in the city was being reported. Your eyes widened as the reporter said that monster was only a couple of blocks from your apartment.

Standing up, you rush to put your shoes on and grab your camera, phone and keys before dashing down the stairs and out into the warm night. As you ran towards the scene playing out, you received weird glances from people running in the opposite direction of you. You waved it off as you continued your trek into the chaos.

Arriving at the scene, you saw Spiderman had arrived and was fighting it out with his foe. Running past the other journalists and amateurs, ducking under police tape you sprinted away from the cops who tried to catch you.

The angle was perfect. You took your position and started capturing the moments happening on your semi-reliable device. There it was the perfect shot. You heard noise from above you as you stared wide eyed. A car was thrown in your direction, losing your chance at the photo. Your body failed to move, frozen from fear. Closing your eyes, you hunched over waiting for the impact. But it never came as you were snatched away by large muscular blue and red arms.

“¿por qué estás aquí?!” He yelled at you which made you roll your eyes.

“Why do you always ask me that? I would think you would know that answer by now.” You were set down. He glared at you through his mask as he went back to fighting the monster.

“Why do you never listen to me? Eres un idiota por venir aquí!” He said while punching out the villain.

“Well if you let me know who you are then I’ll be on my way!” You yelled back.

“¡Estás empezando a cabrearme!”

“Should I leave you two to talk?” Said the Villain.

“Shut up!” You say in unison. Spiderman made his final blow, knocking the villain out. You begin to make your way through the crowd, feeling defeated. Another failed mission to capture an even decent photo. As soon as you get away from the crowd, you yell out when you're grabbed by surprise and now in the air.

“Put me-”

“Cállate!” His low tone made you silent for the rest of the way before you recognized the window to your apartment.

Both standing down now on the fire exit stairs, you bend down to open your window. To your relief it was unlocked as you stepped through into your bedroom. You were about to close it when he stepped through.

“What are you doing?” You take a few steps as he nears closer to you.

“You seem surprised, Princesa. I said you would be punished if I caught you following me again.” He inched closer to you.

The end of the bed stopped you, falling back on it. You steadily inched back, but were pulled back by your ankles towards him. So close, you felt his hidden erection against your thigh. He grabbed you by the waist walking towards the bathroom.

Turning on the light he stops right in front of the sink. He sets you on top of the counter before moving your skirt up. You felt a claw brush against your sensitive lips as you felt your panties tearing. He lifts part of his mask to reveal his neck all the way to his plush lips. He inserted two fingers inside you, making you moan as he began a steady pace of thrusting into you. He leans in, capturing your lips with his. You feel his tongue against your lips, and with the curl of his fingers inside you, your mouth opens, letting him in.

The heated makeout session continues as you feel a knot build up in your stomach. The clenching around his fingers to suck him in further indicated you were close to climaxing. You felt his fingers leave your heated center right as you were about to finish.

“Y-you bastard.”

“Last time I checked this was a punishment. ” He backed away slightly, lowering his lower half of his suite revealing his large shaft. The sight of cock dripping with precum made your heat grow tenfold.

“Come here.” You obliged as you removed yourself from the counter, standing right infront of him. “Turn around.” He whispered. You were never the woman to let a man command you around, but his sultry low voice made your legs weak.

He guided you to spread your legs. He leaned down and pressed his soft lips against your neck as you felt him slowly enter inside of you. He was too big. Though you hadn’t been a virgin in a while, the size of his cock made you feel like one again. He was fully inside you which you thought was impossible.

You felt his lips against your ear. “Relax hermosa. Let me know when I can move.” The soft change in his voice made your heart pound out your chest. If only you could see his full face as he fucks you from behind.

You let out a moan, when you felt him move inside you. He took that as your sign to let him continue as he lifted one of your legs, lifting you slightly from the ground. Only your toes touching the tile. His other hand held your waist in place as he would almost remove himself except the tip and then slam his shaft back inside you, constantly hitting your sweet spot.

“You're such a slut for how your pussy sucks in my cock and clenches around it.”

“S-shut u-up.” Words could barely leave your lips as moans constantly got in the way as he kept his fast and rough pace. You cried out when you felt him come to a stop.

“W-what are you doing?”

“If you want me to fuck you till you see the stars. Beg for it.” He growled in your ear.

“Please..”

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me Spiderman.”

“As you wish, princessa.” He began to thrust himself back into you harder than before. No other man has been able to fuck you so fast with such endurance. Maybe it was because he wasn’t a normal man. He was Spiderman afterall. You felt his claws digging into your waist and thigh, yet the sting didn’t bother you. It made you more aroused. His next thrust made you arch your back, eyes rolling behind your head. You clenched tight around his shaft, which made a moan escape his lips.

When was the last time you came like that during sex? Definitely not from your last boyfriend.

Your cheeks become red as you look ahead, eyes wide. For a moment you had forgotten that you were in your bathroom. He let out another moan as you clenched around him again, becoming aroused as you watched yourself being pounded by spiderman in the mirror. The way his balls slapped against your ass when he was fully inside you. How your bouncing breasts matched the rhythm of his thrusts. You could see your pleasure dripping down his shaft every time he removed himself before quickly thrusting back into you.

Another moan escaped your lips as you felt the knot in your stomach for the third time tonight. You saw his lips sucking at your neck, leaving bruises in his trail. Your gaze moved to the rest of his masked face. As your arm was around his neck to keep your back against his chest you could only feel his suit. You wished you could feel his hair against your fingers as you looked into his gaze from the mirror. But you knew he wouldn’t give up his identity that easily to you despite the position you were both in.

The knot exploded inside you as your moans grew louder from your high. Your pussy clenched so tight around him as he thrusted, spilling himself deep inside of you. You felt a sting in your neck when he unloaded into you.

Looking in the mirror he had sunk his fangs into you, drawing slight blood. He had made sure not to pour his venom into you as he removed his fangs from your neck, slowly licking the wound before kissing it. His thrusts became more inconsistent as he came down from his high before removing himself. He put you on the counter again before grabbing a washcloth. He turned on the faucet to make it wet, before turning it off and coming to you. He then gently cleaned your thighs from the mess oozing out of you. After cleaning you off he picked you up bridal style, leaving the bedroom and tucking you into bed.

As soon as your body touched the soft sheets, your lids started to close as fatigue washed over you.

“Buenas noches, mi amor.” He gave you a kiss on the head before slipping through your window. He gave one more look at your sleeping form, smiling under his mask before jumping off the fire escape and swinging to the next building.

…

You woke up the next morning feeling sore everywhere. Cheeks turning red as memories from last night came flooding into your mind.

Spiderman had fucked you in your bathroom last night. Your closest encounter with him. You groaned in frustration. That bastard knew you wouldn't be able to say anything from last night, unless you wanted all of Nueva York to know about your personal business. You turned to grab your water from the nightstand. However, your eyes glance towards a white piece of paper. Grabbing it you realized it was a photo. Before turning it over it said, ‘Here’s your Perfect Picture. Until next time, Princessa.’

Curious you then turned it over. Eyes wide and cheeks read as you dropped the photo on your lap.

When did he take this? How did he get your camera?

The photo was of him fucking you in the bathroom from last night. And of course, it was the clearest photo of Spiderman you have ever seen. And he knew damn well you would never be able to use it. Next time you saw him, he was going to get an ear full.

If only you knew his name.

————————————————————————

Translations

Principe= Prince

Princessa= Princess

por qué estás aquí?! = why are you here?

Eres un idiota por venir aquí= Your an idiot for coming here.

Estás empezando a cabrearme!= You’re starting to piss me off!

Cállate= Quiet

Hermosa= Beautiful

Buenas noches, mi amor= Goodnight, my love.

Hope you enjoyed it😉.

Chapter one of my Miguel x fem! reader fic will be posted tomorrow! Maybe I’ll post a sneak peak later today.🤭

If you have any one-shot requests, comment below!

#miguel o'hara #spider man 2099 #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel x reader #oneshot #oneshot requests #smut

[ragepuff]

Ominis’ Congenital Blindness

I have a hot take/head canon for Ominis’ being blind. And I’ve been dying to share this out and see what y’all think.

I grew up with a blind teacher throughout elementary school. He was born with congenital blindness, which is what Ominis has because he was born blind. He described that he could see very blurry figures of people when they moved and some color depending on how bright his surround was . I remember he said the only way he would see nothing but black/nothing at all is if he had no eyes. Because the eye balls are made to sense light and the brain translates that light to images and color.

So I’m just saying it would be nice to see more detail’s like that within the fandom because blindness doesn’t always mean they can’t sense the shifting of light or if it’s day or night time.

I could also be completely crazy or way too invested in details for no reason…

#ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy #Hogwarts Legacy Ominis #head cannon #hot take #Ominis fanfic

[shion-yu]

Day 6: Doctor turned patient

Ryo/Alex drabble for @medwhumpmay. Ryo’s a veterinarian, but that’s a doctor right? Also this is a two parter, with the second part tomorrow!

Ryo’s graduation is one of the most significant days of his life. He’s been in veterinary school for what feels like insanely long. His relationship has survived two US and one global tour where Alex was hundreds, even thousands of miles away while he studied and stayed right in place in New York. And yet the years have gone faster than Ryo expected, even if some days felt like they would never end.

Everybody who’s important to him is there: Alex, of course. Ryo’s parents and Shu, who are all proud for good reason because this would’ve been impossible at times without them. Elliot and Cliff sit behind them, their new baby fastened to Cliff’s chest in a cloth carrier. And then all of his closest friends are here too, graduating alongside him. It’s a really happy day. At least, it should be. Except Ryo woke up in the middle of the night with a 103 fever and his teeth chattering so hard that it woke Alex up.

It’s definitely the flu, and Ryo realizes then that he forgot to get his flu shot that past winter. It’s ridiculous and maybe a little ironic: the day he finally becomes a doctor and he’s sick as a dog. Still, he’s not missing this ceremony for the world and Alex knows better than to try and persuade him otherwise. This only happens once, it’s Ryo’s crown achievement in his life thus far, and he is not going to let a little flu keep him from enjoying it.

By the end of the first hour of maudlin speeches and a painfully dull keynote speaker, Ryo’s wondering if he should’ve stayed home. Damien, his best friend, keeps nudging him to remember to sit up. It’s getting increasingly difficult to heed this advice. His head is killing him, he’s freezing even in a vinyl black gown in June, and he’s starting to see little black dots in his vision.

He’s totally, absolutely going to pass out. How he’s going to walk across that stage in front of this huge crowd is anyone’s guess. When they call his name, Damien literally shoves him out of his chair to stand up. Just one more push. He’s done this for eight long, incredible, difficult years and this is the last push.

Somehow, with blurry vision and a forced, dizzy smile, Ryo stumbles up to the stage. He shakes people’s hands, is handed his diploma, and takes a staged picture with the president of his school. And then when he walks off stage, instead of returning to his seat like he’s supposed to, he makes a beeline for the bathrooms where he knows he can finally stop pretending that he’s okay.

“Sir, you can’t go this way,” someone says.

Ryo doesn’t even look at them and just mumbles, “I’m literally gonna puke,” and pushes past them. It seems like a better excuse than ‘I need to pass out.’

He makes it down one hall inside the building, stumbles into a wall, and then things go dark.

Part 2

#medwhump may #shionwrites #oc: Ryo #oc: Alex #sickfic #illness whump #flu whump

[mybelovednick]

Crimson and Clover, Honey (Chapter 2)

Main Page

Previously

Nick Sturniolo x Male!character

Summary: Nick Sturniolo is a Bookstore owner in a small town in Northern Italy. Vayu Arora is an elementary school teacher who is a frequent customer at Nick's Store. Both of them meet and they are suppose to fall in love like faith intended. But what happens when one of them is unable to let go of their past selves?

Nick x male!character Angst Fluff/comfort Hurt/comfort

TW: Too corny ig, smoking (don't do it kids. it is not cool)

******

2

“I have no news. I live quietly, I love you and I wait.”

This quote has always been a mystery to me. I wouldn’t remember where I first read it, or from whom I had heard it. But it stuck with me, forever. Yearning makes a person susceptible to the madness of love. If you yearn for something or someone, the line between love and obsession becomes blurry.

It was a lovely Friday evening. The breeze was just right as the clouds swiftly danced across the violet sky. The sun was about to set but the moon was already up. Tara invited us to her family restaurant to celebrate her grandpa’s seventy-second birthday.

Nate rode my red Vespa, with me on the back while holding onto his waist for dear life; because to him, my vehicle was a race car and the world was a Drag race. We reached Tara’s restaurant an hour late, regardless of the death race.

“You bitches were supposed to be here half an hour prior to the party and you reached in hour late. Explain, now” Tara was fuming.

“Yell at Vayu, if he had dressed up a little quicker we would be here so much earlier.”

“What? You were the one throwing a tantrum like fucking baby after seeing me wear the same coral shirt that you are wearing now! Of course I had to change into a boring black one.” I tried to defend myself.

“Not my fault I look better in coral.”

“Nathan I swear to God-“

“Okay fine, Jesus!” Tara yelled at us again. (We deserved it), “Let’s go inside and hurry up, Grandpa is waiting for you guys.”

“Awe I missed you Jeremy.” Nate cooed from behind as we entered the room and everyone cheered.

The restaurant was not a very fancy one. But it did feel like home. I’ve always loved Tara and her grandparents, Jeremy and Lizzy. Frank Sinatra was playing in the background because Jeremy loved Sinatra, “Play his songs in my funeral” he’d say every time.

Tara, Nathan and I were the only ones who were not above the age of fifty-five. We all wished Jeremy ‘Happy Birthday’ and Lizzy kissed him, to which all of us cheered like monkeys in a zoo. I loved watching people smile. I loved watching people enjoy their time. Tara was in charge of the food and overall party. I was on tea duty, i.e. ensuring that every single person had their tea cups filled up to the brim. It wasn’t a difficult task considering there were barely over twenty people in the party. Yes, tea in Italy is a bizarre concept but apparently Lizzy can’t stand the smell of coffee and ever since she visited Darjeeling with her husband, she has been addicted to this beverage.

Nathan? Well he was busy impressing Lizzy’s friends. Those sixty-year old ladies loved him for some reason. “Oh you look ravishing today, Demi. And you too! Rebecca, that hair is flawless, Jim is a lucky guy.”  Who am I kidding? Everyone loved Nate.

I was simply observing them, holding the warm tea kettle close to my chest; almost zoning out in the process.

Perhaps this is what love is after all; watching people you love fall in love with other people you love.

Being in love on the other hand, will always be strange, no matter how many times you’ve experienced it in your life. It is like falling in love with the moon. It looks beautiful from afar and even more tempting in theory. But no matter how many songs or poems you write about it, it will remain absurd in practicality to be in love with the moon. And you feel like the ocean, reflecting the image of your beloved moon in your turbulent waves just to get a glimpse of it. Even during the most intense storms in your life, you strive to keep your water as still as possible to catch your beloved in the reflection. It is the madness, and obsession that we humans love to bask in. This madness is love; and this love is strange.

“Yoohoo! Vayu! Tea boy, fill this up please.” Lizzy called for me raising her cup. I quickly nodded and rushed towards her. But as I was about to pour her up, she held me by my wrist and sat me down beside her. She was one strong woman for someone claiming to be suffering from arthritis.

“So, who’s the boy?” Lizzy asked in a sing-song tone.

“What? Tara told you?” I panicked.

“Oh dear, no. I just noticed that you seemed pretty distracted there and you have a glow to your face.” Lizzy said and I had to smile, how could I not? “See? You are so giggly and smiley like that. You should smile more often, you look even more handsome.” Lizzy winked.

“Well, I’d have to be a psychopath to be able to resist smiling when you say stuff like that.” I knew my face lit up like a Christmas tree at that point.

“Well, I mean it baby boy.” She held my hand carefully, “Now tell me about this man.”

I raised my eyebrow when she scooted herself closer to pay attention. She was determined to get me married to a nice man because…Honestly? I don’t know.

“Well he works at the bookstore. The one near the Marylyn street.”

“Oh I go there sometimes, I think. Is it the Libreria del Sentiero ?”

“Yes! That’s the one! Wait, do you know the guy who works there?”

“I think I have met that gentleman quite often. He comes here to get a cup of black coffee and abrownie. He is such a sweet man, and he sure does love my brownies.”

“No one could ever not like your brownies, Lizzy.” I smiled at her and she smiled back, “So, uhm… is he here often?”

I could feel her grin growing on her face. “Yes, Nick does come here on Wednesdays and Fridays.”

Nick.

Short for Nicolas, maybe. It does suit him. I remembered thinking that immediately.

Just then Lizzy’s eyes lit up. “Oh goodness, Look at that! He is standing right there, near his motorbike just along the parking. This is a sign! Vayu. Go now!” She was practically jumping in her seat while shoving my shoulders to push me out of the chair.

“But the party-“

“Fuck this party.”

Goddamn, this old lady was not playing.

She touched my cheek and kissed it quickly, “Look, V. You deserve to be happy, it is not a crime. Stop being so kind to the world and so harsh to yourself. Love doesn’t show up at your doorstep, you know? You need to chase it. Even if it doesn’t work out, you don’t get stuck in a world of what ifs. Nick is a good man. He is worth taking a chance.”

I hugged her and bid her goodbye. “Thank you.” I whispered mostly to myself. I made an excuse to get out of the party and pushed the door open.

He was standing a few meters away. I felt like I was in a romcom movie. Maybe it was because of the stars in the sky or the warm fairy lights right outside the restaurant window. Or it could be because I was willing to take a chance again.

Nick was wearing a bright red vest and a black leather jacket with black jeans. His shades were tucked on top of his messy blonde hair. And he had a pack of Marlboro in his hand. I walked towards him, still unsure of my footsteps.

God, he is beautiful.

“Need some help with the lighter?” I tried to be casual.

“Yeah, sure.”

He was so nonchalant that it was almost infuriating. He handed me his green lighter and I helped him light up his cigarette.

I watched him take a deep drag out of that cigarette. He closed his eyes and let out the smoke through his mouth and nose. He was leaning against his bike with his arms crossed. He watched the cigarette getting eaten up by the reddish-orange flame, firmly placed between his fingers.

Nick quickly bit into his own cigarette lightly with his lips and held the pack of Marlboro towards me while raising his eyebrows, gesturing if I needed one too.

“I am good, thank you.” I instantly replied.

He rolled his eyes.

Cocky bastard.

A few moments passed. It was really awkward too. I felt like pushing myself off a cliff. But I noticed a few things; he was just a few centimetres shorter than I was. However, nobody could deny that he was built. I actually felt like a twig beside him.

“Vayu, right?”

I thought I was going to combust with joy. “You remember me?”

“Of course I do. Who else would buy one of Shakespeare’s best classics with a fucking Porn magazine?”

If it were someone else, I would have knocked their teeth out (breaking my knuckles in the process.). But I saw a beautiful smile starting form in his face. He was really proud of what he said.

And I was glad I met him once again.

"You should smile more often." I blurted out. Nick looked at me with furrowed eyebrows. But soon his expressions relaxed a bit.

"Then make me." he said

*******

Next Chapter

A/N: I promise there will be more nick in the upcoming chapters

p.S. I love Lizzy

Tag: @ohmtoff @freshloveforthefit @miloisdone1 @nicksfavhoe @heyitsmemia @neo404 @matty-bear2 @thenickgirl @loud-sturniolos @maria4mari @solarsturniolo @darl1ngdr1sta @tkhzs @soursturniolo @certifiednatelover

#nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicksturniolo #fanfiction #nick sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo imagine #nick sturniolo x male reader #headcanon #nick sturniolo fanfiction #fanart #sketch #nate doe #tara yummy

[vulpixsworld]

A snippet of my hellcheer WW2 au.

IDK when I will get this one finished. May take a while. But I thought I would show a little snippet of my new au. The title of it is called, Carry You (Home).

He moaned. His eyes were sealed shut. His head ached. It hurts like hell to open his eyes. The familiar heavy pounding he gets whenever he wakes up early in the morning with a huge hangover. Mostly from his uncle's liquor. He turned his head around, blindly grabbing something to hold onto. Ah, shit, he thought to himself. Shit. W-what the hell? What happened?

He moved his legs and immediately a sharp pain zaps down his right leg. He groaned, too weak and in pain to reach his leg. He slowly opened his eyes, but all he could see was nothing but blurry vision.

“Oh, shh, shh, shh, it’s okay. It’s okay. Don’t move.” Speaks an angelic voice.

He turned to find the voice. “W-what…”

“It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re alright. You’re safe. You’re safe.” She speaks again. Her soothing soft voice comforted him.

He tried to readjust his eyesight. He wants to see the woman. “W-who said that? Where am I?” He asked eagerly.

“Shh, shh. It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re safe back in London.”

“London?” The hell? The last thing he remembered, he was leaving London with his friends Steve and Billy and heading to France. Or was it Italy? Or, outside of Great Britain? He can’t remember shit. Not after the last couple of days of shooting, dodging, running, jumping, and crying. Fucking had one hell of a run. He ran more than he ever did back in high school. “W-why am I in London?” He asked as he continued looking around.

A soft giggle comes out of the unknown woman. He turned toward the direction of the voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be entertained by your confusion, it’s just that…” She sighs, “…You’re a lot better than the other soldiers I’ve treated.” Her voice at the end sounded sad. Trembled even.

His eyes soon focus on a blurry figure. So far, he sees a skinny figure with golden outline hair and a white and light blue cloud around her. Holy Shit, am I in heaven? He thought to himself. The angelic figure lightly touched his shoulder. He willingly lies back down on his back. He doesn’t take his blurry eyes off of the figure. “A-are you—”

“Shh, shh, try not to talk or move too much. You’re not dead, I promise.” Just then, his vision gets clear. Within seconds, he comes face-to-face with a beautiful young woman with strawberry blonde hair pulled in a high ponytail and a nurse outfit. Her hat nearly swallowed her upper head. Her cheeks were rosy red, and her blue eyes hypnotized him. He nearly gasped at the sight of her. His jaw dropped.

She giggled at him. Almost covered her crooked teeth. And just like that, Eddie recognized something about this girl. Holy shit. It can’t be. “C-Ch-Chrissy?”

#hellcheer #eddie x chrissy #edissy #fanfic #my fantasy #true love #hellcheer WW2 au #WW2 #stranger things #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #nurse chrissy #Soldier Eddie

[addictedtoking]

Snippet of something. Steve and El both came from the lab, season 3 canon divergence thing, kinda angsty. Idk. I tried.

———

“We wrote to each other.”

Billy looks over at El from the third rewind of Grease, waiting for her to continue. “When we were learning, we would write to each other. As practice. He would tell me to have a good day. Or what he was doing.”

She paused, sniffled. Billy offered no comfort; he didn’t know how and she wouldn’t want it. “And I would tell him what was on my mind-“ this time she swallowed and when she spoke again it was wet “and when we were apart we would write letters to read when we got back together and-“ the sob was nasally and so so heart wrenching that Billy wanted her to stop. But she needed to get this out. “And I know he can’t read them but I need to… I need to” she finally looked at him and Billy felt his own eyes turn moist. “I need to tell someone how I feel.”

Billy, yet in the face of such emotion, didn’t let the tears fall down his cheeks. “You could-“ he took a breath “-you could write to me.”

El swallowed and wiped her tears. “You can write to me too.” She looked at the tv again. “It’s good to get it out. That’s what he said.”

Billy nodded, even tho she couldn’t see it. Wiping cheeks from absent tears, he said, “I’ll add that to the list.”

…

It was rough, in the beginning. He was angry and this town was shitty and dad was shitty and Max-

Anyways. The plate. The fight. The drugs. When he woke up the next morning groggy and with Neil yelling down the hall, he had no regrets. Max was home and in fine condition. His face hurt a little, but that’s fine. It’s all fine. Except for when Neil took whatever was bothering him out on him. But that’s fine. It’s not max- the little shit head who doesn’t listen.

He spent the rest of the weekend working out and drinking. By Monday, he was somewhat prepared for high school again. So he sprayed his cologne, gathered the shitbird, and sped off to school.

He had no regrets when he walked into first period. Nor when he skipped second to smoke behind the bleachers. Nor third period. Lunch. Fourth. Fifth. Sixth. Seven-

There, he saw the fallen king, sporting a bruised face and cuts bandaged by pink bandaids with butterflies. The coach was telling him to take the period off. Obviously he had a recovering concussion and needed the break. After all, there’s a black ring around his left eye and his cheek is purple and his lips are split but no less plump-

Billy scored four fouls.

He refused to regret it.

Billy refused to regret a lot of things.

Billy will think he should have regretted more to prepare him for this.

It was bad in the beginning. Now it might be worse.

…

Billy wasn’t all there. He remembered going to work. He remembered driving around in his car. He remembered the warehouse.

Then it’s blurry. There are images. And the beach. And a girl. And Steve-

And then he wakes up in a hospital bed. Max is at his side. Her face is all blotchy and an ugly red from crying, but they’re not close enough for it to be over him.

“Who was it?” He croaks. He wants water.

Max startles, finally noticing him. She blinks like she doesn’t know what he said. He’ll need something to drink before he says it again.

Max gives him water from the cup, eye tearing up again while he sips. A single tear rolls down her cheek and she furiously wipes it away. He would normally sneer at her tears, wrinkled face and spotty flush, but he needs to know who, who died, who did he kill-

“Steve’s gone.”

…

Robin-before-the-Russians thought the worst day of her life was when Tammy Thompson blew her off to try snuggling up to Steve Harrington. Robin-after-the-Russians has had a far worse day.

It’s also Steve Harringtons fault, but not because he stole a girl. No. That would be a concern for Robin-before-the-Russians. This Robin, the one walking up to a bunch of kids, knows this will be the worst day ever. This day will surpass the day her parents discover she’s a lesbian and it will surpass the day she dies.

This terrible day is Steve harringtons fault. Because apparently he’s more than pretty hair and pompous clothing. Because he’s actually a badass that takes down evil monsters with his mind. Because he’s dead.

The kids see her coming towards them, and they look behind her where Steve would be. But he’s not there, so they look back at her. The curly haired one, Dustin, Steve’s best friend, Steve’s brother- sees it in her eyes first. His face crumples and he falls, a tiny “no” leaving his lips.

The red one follows after, going down on a knee beside dustin. One by one, Robin watches them realize. One by one, the shock and grief overtakes their innocent faces.

Robin doesn’t notice she’s not walking anymore when another girl runs past her towards to group. Seeing their distress, she turns back and faces Robin and oh-

Robin sees Steve in her brown eyes, in her clothing, in the blood dripping from her nose.

Maybe she can see the sadness on Robin like Steve, because look is all it takes. The girl let’s out the harshest, most gut-wrenching scream. She realizes he’s gone.

He’s gone.

The children grab her as she falls into them, a pile of misery if she’s ever seen one.

Robin takes another step before her legs give out. It might have been from the drugs, from the lack of food, from the torture. It doesn’t matter. The kids just lost their protector and nothing she can do will bring him back. Their image blurs as Robin succumbs to the tears as well.

Yes. It’s all Steve Harringtons fault. She just wishes he were here so she could tell him that.

…

The days after are bad, with the grief and the recovery. The town has lost so much in one night, so many lives stripped away in one single building.

The nights are worse. For those in the fire, it’s a long, dark time filled with torture devices, enclosed spaces, and monsters wearing people as masks.

Dustin doesn’t sleep much. Usually, after this happens, he has someone there to wake him up from nightmares. The first time, the party had slept in wills room and he could wake up and see his friend sleeping in his bed. The second time, he spent the night at Steve’s house, who hadn’t minded when he crawled into bed with him and El.

It was not the beginning of their friendship, already too far past that, but it was somewhere about midway. As the months passed, dustin will joined Steve’s and El’s little family in the backseat of a beemer, in the yellow kitchen, in the last dredges of milkshakes. He and Steve and el became Dustin-Steve-and-El then just Dustin-and-Steve as summer began and everyone flourishes out. He’d thought this summer would be the best with his science camp and new girlfriend and Steve and ice cream and secret Russian messages-

So. This time, afterward, there’s no one. Lucas and Erica are stuck at their parents, max at the hospital with Billy, Mike and will hidding in the formers basement, and El-

Dustin hesitates less than he should’ve before shakily getting out of bed. The walkie sits on his desk, where it has been just in case he needed Steve. But Steve’s not here, so it sits there uselessly.

But know he picks it up and dials into channel 4, “you there? Over.”

There is a long pause before another voice gives a quiet “yeah. Over.”

The device is quiet again while they wait for the other to say something. El relents first.

“I miss him. Over.”

Dustin backs up until his thighs touch his bed, then he kind of falls back onto his sheets. He stares at the ceiling as he replies “me too. Over.”

Silence again. El is probably looking at the ceiling too. He can picture her looking up. It’s not her ceiling, covered in posters and stars and paint splatters. Instead, it’s probably the Byers, the ceiling above wills bed: wood planks and dark swirls. She hasn’t gone back into their house since he-

“Do you want to have a sleepover? Over.”

He waits for her reply, clutching the walkie to his chest. For a minute, he thinks she’s not going to respond until she croaks “yeah” a pause, her voice is clearer “I’ll be there in 10. Over.”

“Copy. Over and out.”

Dustin sits up and unlocks his window.

…

Max helps Billy get from the hospital to the car, then from the car to the house. Then, later that night, she helps him to the bathroom.

She doesn’t talk to him. Doesn’t mention Neil’s silent neglect. Doesn’t mention Susan’s air headed absence. Doesn’t mention the mall. Doesn’t mention what he did.

Still.

It’s a little too much. He’s not weak. He doesn’t esnt need his 14 year old sister to take care of him. But every time Max is there to do something for him and he feels a rush of anger and it’s so big it might explode out of him and jab at her-

It just.

Goes away.

Steve - Seven - Harrington had mind powers. He’s heard the kids talk about it over the walkie talkie Max keeps locked in her room. He heard about the nudges and pulls and keeping it there.

Now he knows what Harrington did to Neil. The lack of care. Absence of anger or annoyance. Just a mellow man living his days in a mellow town. No wonder the abuse stopped.

Now he thinks Harrington did something to him.

He’s on bed rest for almost three weeks. He has a lot of time to think.

And every time Max brings him water without asking or adjusts his pillows, and the anger and annoyance rise up and release just as fast to leave him cooler and more rational-

He thinks he’s kinda ok with it.

…

Max doesn’t sleep.

Her eyes are dry and crusty. There’s bags upon bags under them, black and sunken. Her mind is slow and she can barely tell what anyone’s saying to her the first time. She’s so tired it’s all she thinks about.

The nightmares are worse than the tiredness.

Steve’s bleeding from his nose and mouth, and some’s coming from his ears too.

It’s okay, he says.

It’s gonna be okay, he tells her.

He kisses her forehead. It does not distract her from the lie.

Go with Billy, he said.

Billy will protect you, he told her.

Billy carried El and Mike from the mall, but in this dream he’s carrying her instead.

She watches Steve get smaller, and smaller, and smaller.

He does not go to her no matter how much she screams.

…

Billy doesn’t remember what happened.

But the kids do.

Robin’s the one to tell him though, bundled up in blankets and sitting in a room with all the lights on. It’s the end of August. She shivers despite the heat.

“You- it had found the kids - Mike, Max, and El - and Mike was down and Max almost was, and y- it was toting off El over your shoulder. Steve found you- it.”

He doesn’t get mad at her mistakes. His body carried a monster. (was the mind flayer the only monster though? Was it not just you? Billy- BILLY).

“What did I do?”

Robin blinked her eyes a few times. She looked into his, though his baby blues didn’t hold as many tears. “You hit him.”

He tries to hold in his confusion - a hit wouldn’t have taken him down - but she sees it anyways. She swallows and holds up a hand.

A moment.

Two.

“The Russians banged him up pretty bad. There were too many of them for him to use his mind powers - manipulation thing - good enough, so he just distracted them from me,” she swallows again and sips from the water she clutches like a life line, “But he was fine- not with the drugs of course - but he wasn’t keeling over yet-“

She sobs again. Billy’s eyes remain dry. It’s awkward.

“But he tried to stop it and it hit him again and again until he could get to you-“ another sob, “and when I found him again after he sent you off there was blood coming from his mouth and I had to help him walk to the elevator and he wouldn’t sit because I don’t think he could get back up if he did and it was too much on top of closing the gate and I couldn’t carry him-“

She’s full on sobbing now, and for a second he regrets sharing the pot. He didn’t want to deal with this. He was not the person to deal with their emotions. He did not belong in this family.

He shouldn’t after what happened. What he did.

Still, he pats her shoulder and lets her curl up next to him until she falls asleep. Then, he lays her down and wraps the blankets around her.

He is not a good caretaker. So he leaves after that. But he leaves the lights on for her so she doesn’t wake up in the dark.

…

Here’s what happened:

Russians opened gate under mall.

Mind flayer started possessing people.

Billy got possessed and then helped mind flayer possess other people.

Russians attack ice cream scoopers.

Mind flayer attacks children.

Adults kidnap and commit grand theft auto with a Russian man to help stop both of the above.

Russian man dies.

Children distract mind flayer from its prey.

Possessed Billy finds prey, takes it, and then is intercepted by prey’s brother.

Possessed Billy beats up Prey’s brother.

Brother has another nearly fatal concussion. He undoes possession on Billy, brainwashes him into taking and protecting kids, then escapes down to Russian base with his ice cream scooping friend. Superboy closes gate, liquifies his brain because he had too many traumatic brain injuries, and is near death as mall starts collapsing around him.

Ice cream scooping friend has to abandon him to make it out alive.

No-longer-possessed Billy protects kids until mind flayer is killed. Promptly passes out from previous injuries.

That’s all he could get out of Chief Hopper.

Chief Hopper was shitfaced and mourning his child.

Chief hopper still doesn’t blame Billy.

Billy wishes he did.

#stranger things #billy hargrove #steve harrington #el hopper #jim hopper #robin buckley #dustin henderson #max mayfield #angst #harringrove #kinda

[brokenjere]

bad in the bones (c.f) part 5

a/n: hey guys, sorry about the long wait i know I’ve been inactive lately I just moved states so I’ve been busy and trying to get back into the swing of my normal life so I haven’t been writing so much lately but i will continue to update dont worry! Hope you enjoy💛💛💛 id love to know your thoughts!

catch up here

Mallory’s name flashes on the screen over a picture of her smiling, red-faced and blurry. Her hair is plastered to her face with sweat and she was holding up a beer. I remember taking the photo our sophomore year. It was our first high school party and she went a little overboard but I remember thinking how pretty she looked, even as completely wasted as she was. “Hello?” I pick up. Mallory always texted me before she called, mostly because she hated being on the phone and tried to avoid it and I know something is wrong as soon as she speaks.

“Hey,” she sings softly. “How’s it going?” 

“Hey,” she sings softly. “How’s it going?” 

“What’s wrong?” I sit up, scooting my butt all the way to the back of the lounge chair. Belly, who was absent-mindedly watching the boys in the water is now fully alert to me. I can feel her eyes watching me.  

“Oh nothing,” she dismisses. I can almost see her waving me off like she always did. “Just wondering if you found your new summer beau yet.” 

“Why?” I ask cautiously. Mallory laughs and I can hear some people chatting in the background, although I can’t really make it out. “Where are you?” 

“I’m at the pool with the girls,” she says. The girls meaning Victoria and Betty who we have been friends with since middle school. It has always been Mallory and I, but the girls were always good to have around but if Tori and Betty were around that means Josh and his friends were around and that made my stomach drop. 

“Is Josh there?” I ask. Now, Belly’s eyebrows shot up and she mouths Josh? I nod my head as Mallory confirms over the phone. “What happened? Why are you calling?” 

She’s silent on the other side and I wait for her to speak. I hear Josh’s laugh in the background and I want to throw up. I could recognize that laugh anywhere. It could wake me out of the deepest sleep. I could almost see him - head thrown back as a laugh escapes through his teeth. How his curly hair falls back against his forehead. I shut my eyes to try and get rid of the image. “He’s been seeing someone,” she finally whispers. “Her name is-”

“I don’t want to know her name,” I snap at her without meaning to. Belly’s eyes widen even more if that’s possible and the boys stop throwing their volleyball around and they’re all staring at me. Everything is quiet except for my heavy breathing. “How long?” 

“I don’t know,” she says. “Since you left, I think.” 

“Well, you can tell Josh that I’ve been seeing someone, too.” I don’t know why I lie. I never lie to Mallory and everyone sitting around me knows it’s not true but I still say it. I still confirm it when Mallory asks me really? 

“Who are you hooking up with?” Belly whispers next to me, her hands are already on the arm rest of my chair and she’s ready to shake the answer out of me. I shake my head at her with narrow eyes and she seems disappointed as she leans back in her own chair, arms crossed over her chest like a little kid pouting. 

“I gotta go, okay?” I tell Mallory as she’s blabbering on about Josh’s new girlfriend and how he’s only with her to make me jealous and not to worry. She says there’s no way she compares to you. I tell her thanks for letting me know and hang up the phone. “What are you all staring at?” I say to the boys as the door to the house slides closed. I didn’t even hear it open. 

“Nothing,” Steven says, shaking his head vigorously. He throws the ball in the air and hits it to Jeremiah. “Nothing at all, yn.” The ball hitting the water next to Jeremiah knocks his attention away from me and he grabs it. “Come on, Jere.” I look down at my lap and start to hear the ball bouncing back and forth again. I no longer feel a bunch of eyes on me. 

“What’s gotten into you?” Conrad asks from behind me. His hands are on the back of my chair and he’s leaning forward toward me with a smirk on his face. His voice is teasing but the energy in the air is tense. I can’t speak and I don’t know why. 

“She just found out that Josh has a new girlfriend so she lied about having a new boyfriend just to seem even,” Belly says. I snap my head to her with widened eyes and she recoils in her chair. “Sorry, that’s what happened.” 

“He’s an ass. Don’t let him get to you,” Conrad says. He’s trying to be nice and supportive and I can see that when I look at him but it just pisses me off so I stand up and push past him into the house. I can hear them all talking through the shut glass door but I ignore it. I ignore Laurel and Susannah calling after me in the kitchen and I ignore Laurel as she follows me to the base of the stairs. I shut the door to my bedroom and throw myself on the bed. 

I stay in my room until it gets dark out. No one bothered me except Laurel asking me if I want dinner. When I told her no she said, “I heard about what happened today. Do you want to talk about it?” I told her no again and she sighed on the other side of the door but then disappeared for the rest of the night. When the sun goes down and the house gets quiet, I tip-toe out of my bedroom. All of the doors are shut and there’s not a single sound in the house. I turn on the lights in the kitchen and start raiding the kitchen. I could leave. Take Laurel’s car and go to the corner store that we stopped at on our way in and buy a bottle of vodka and drink the entire thing in the car but I don’t want to leave the house so I open all the bottom cabinets until I find some. The bottle feels heavy and expensive and I start to feel guilty but I unscrew the top anyway and drink from the mouth. 

“Susannah would kill you if she found you.” I startle and the mouth misses my lips just a little bit getting a little vodka on my chin. I wipe it away as I turn around. Steven is standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk on his face. He’s probably reveling in the fact that he’s not the most fucked up Conklin in the house. I can see him picturing my demise in his eyes as I look at him. 

“Good thing she’s asleep, right?” I say. He shrugs and holds out his hand and I give him what he wants. “No plans tonight?” 

He shakes his head before taking a drink from the bottle. “No one was really in the mood, I guess. Plus you’ve been MIA all day.”

“Wasn’t in the mood either.” I push myself up on the countertop, taking the bottle back when Steven hands it to me. 

“Listen to me, yn. Josh is an idiot, you know? I’ve known him for years. I told Belly when you first started dating it was a bad idea but-” 

“You did?” My heart rate picks up and Steven looks at me wide-eyed. “She never told me you said that.” 

“She probably didn’t want to hurt your feelings. He’s just an asshole, okay? Always has been.” He’s being quiet, I assume so he doesn’t wake up the rest of the house but there’s also a hint of something else in his voice. Sadness, regret, pity. It makes my stomach churn. 

“Why didn’t you say something to me? Instead of Belly? You let me get into a relationship with him for years and never said anything.” Steven shushes me and steps closer to where I’m sitting. “Don’t tell me to be uiet.”

“I didn’t tell you to be quiet but people are sleeping. Why are you so mad?” I shake my head and my hands tighten around the edge of the counter so hard my knuckles turn white. Steven looks at them and then looks away. “It’s not like he’s a serial cheater or something, he’s just a shitty guy sometimes. Always has been but he was good to you, at least he seemed to be from where I was standing.” 

“He was good to me,” I state. I’m not sure how much I believe that. Deep down, I think I do but the memories of the last few months with Josh taint the bigger picture. All I see are his furious eyes as we fight about what to wear to senior prom instead of when they’re soft and he’s loving me. I hear his voice strained with guilt when he tells me that he wants to see other people instead of how he sounds when he first wakes up. I thought he was just being a teenage boy. Trying to get out of being tied down in his early twenties. Maybe he was telling me the truth. He wanted to see someone else. Whoever he has his arm around at the pool this summer. I hope she gets him to wear sunscreen because I never did. “He just didn’t want to go to Columbia, okay? It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

“So you broke up  because of college?” Steven sounds skeptical and I nod despite knowing he doesn’t believe me. “Then why is he already seeing someone else?”

“Do you have to bring that up?” 

“It’s relevant, isn’t it?” We stare at each other. I can hear my own heart beating in my throat and I tell her to shut up but it doesn’t work. 

“Was my whole relationship just a lie?” I whisper, my voice cracking. “Did he ever love me at all?” Before I start to cry, Steven closes the gap between us and he hugs me so tight that the sound of my heart gets muffled with the sound of his. He whispers in my ear telling me yes he did, I know he did but I don’t believe him. He tells me it’s okay. It’ll get better. I will find someone new. I think I’m really about to start crying when my phone rings. I reach for it and see his name on the caller ID. Steven sees it too and I try to ask him what to do with my eyes but he doesn’t know me like Belly does, so he doesn’t answer me. 

“I’ll let you deal with that,” he says and leaves me alone in the kitchen. I grab the bottle of vodka and slide open my phone as I start up the stairs. Steven’s door closes just as I reach the top and I whisper a hello as I walk down the hall. 

“Yn.” His voice verberates through my entire body. I feel like I’m watching myself instead of being inside of my own body. He always had that effect on me. “I heard Mallory called you.” 

“She did.” The words didn’t seem to come out right at all. They get caught in my throat and come out all mangled but Josh doesn’t seem to react. 

“She told me you were seeing someone.” There’s no noise in the background wherever he’s at and I picture him in his room with the curtains drawn and the only light coming from his gaming keyboard he spent way too much money on for the amount he uses it. I can see him laying on his bed, legs crossed and outstretched in front of him. I used to lay next to him, my head by his feet, as I read. He’d be on his phone or playing video games and his toes would tap my shoulder making me look back at him and he would blow me a kiss. I’d pretend to catch it and throw it in the pages. “To keep forever,” I would say. That memory aches at me now. 

“She told me you were.” He clears his throat and I keep going. “Who is she? Do I know her?” I have to know her, right? She had to have went to school with us. Maybe it was Holly Eaton from our history class. She was always looking at him. 

“It’s not important.” 

“Is she going to community college with you?” The spite in my voice is hard to hide and I think Josh picks up on it because he lets out a breathy laugh. 

“Who said I’m going to community college?”

“Well you’re not going to Columbia, are you?” 

“And you are?” He snaps. “I heard you got wait-listed.” My heart stops like I’m riding in a car that comes to a sudden stop too close to the intersection and your entire body is jerked in and out of reality. 

“Who told you that?” I say through my teeth. I only told one person that so that question seems irrelevant but I want him to say it. But he won’t. He just sighs. 

“Yn, I didn’t call to fight.” 

“Then why did you call?” I ask. 

“Because if it’s true, if you’re really seeing someone-” I scoff. If it’s true. He pretends not to notice. “I just want him to treat you right, okay? I really did love you. I do love you. More than you know, I think. And if things had ended better, I would hope that we’d have found our way back to each other one day.” If things had ended better? I’m uiet. He ended things. He made them bad, didn’t he? Wasn’t it his fault? “I still think we might, you know? It was always you and me. I never doubted that. There’s just so much out there, yn. So much. You’ll thank me one day for this, I think.” 

“Thank you? For what? Breaking my heart?” I want to be mad. I want to sound mad. I want to spit so much fire though the phone that it burns the beard he’d been trying to grow all year right off. But I don’t sound mad. I’m quiet and I realize I’m crying. 

“No. For forcing you to get out of your comfort zone. I know you pretend to be big and tough and wild like your mom but you like to be safe in your bubble and that bubble was me. You deserve to know more.” He’s being sincere. I can hear it in his voice. I want to crawl in his bed under his covers and inhale his scent. I want him to love me again because I don’t know if I can ever stop loving him. “Her name is Kennedy and it’s not real. I lied. I was pretending in front of Mal.” 

“You lied?” 

“Mhm,” he hums. I can hear his smile. “Goodnight, yn. Have a good summer.” The line dies and starts to beep in my ear. I leave it there, the lingering of his voice in my ear because it’s all I have left besides my anger. But the anger is gone, isn’t it? I don’t feel it so heavy in my chest anymore. It’s more like a dull roar that’s leaving it’s mark in my body. In a deep hibernation. Until next time. But then I remember Columbia and Mallory and the beans being spilled so I remove the phone from the side of my head and I text her. Did you tell Josh about Columbia??? 

Being sad about Josh had been getting old. I spent too many nights in bed, crying. Mallory told me to just move on already but she didn’t know I had got rejected by Columbia that same week. She didn’t know the rejection letter was in the waste basket under my desk, rotting just like me. So I told her and her face softened once more and she let me wallow for a few more weeks until I started to look too rough maybe you should get up and shower and leave the house.

She’s the only person I ever told. Not my mother, not Laurel, not Belly. I would have to tell them eventually but right now everything was already too dark there was no reason to shut the curtains, too. 

No! Her reply text reads. And then another one: I told Betty tho :/

I don’t bother replying. I lock my phone and throw it on the bed. Betty, who had the biggest mouth out of anyone in our class. Betty, who thrived off of other people’s misery. Betty, who ran and told Josh that my life was crumbling down around me in the wake of him. I want to scream but I shut my eyes instead and picture her head inflating with all the gossip she eats and popping off of her neck. When I open them, blood is splattered on the walls and there’s a knock at the door. I go to open the door and the walls are white again. 

Conrad stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame similarly to how Steven stood only a few minutes ago in the kitchen. He looks like he was asleep. He has bags under his eyes and his hair was messy and he’s looking down at me in a way that makes me feel uneasy. “What are you doing here?” I ask quietly. 

“I heard you come up and then I heard you talking on the phone. Are you okay? It’s late.” He doesn’t give any indication that he heard what was being said but he was living next door, so he may have. I just nod my head and pull the door open a little more, inviting him inside. He doesn’t speak but accepts my offer by walking inside and I close the door behind him. “I don’t know what happened earlier, at the pool,” he starts, “but I’m sorry. He’s a jerk.” 

I nod my head again even though I’m not so sure I believe that anymore. “I’m fine.” 

Conrad spins around the room. His eyes search for any changes that I’ve made, which aren’t really any. I left everything the way that it was except for my small collection of books on the dresser and my clothes on my floor. “What are you reading right now?” He asks, nodding toward the stack. 

“Moby Dick,” I tell him. “Cliche, I know.”

“Just a little pretentious,” he teases and I actually laugh. “I’ve read it a few times myself,” he admits. He uses his finger to flip open the front cover and he traces the lines of the title page before finding my bookmark and opening it up. I’m a little over halfway through, but truth be told, I hadn’t paid attention to the last hundred words. It’s hard to really focus on anything these days. “Do you want to go on our boat tomorrow morning, maybe?” 

He’s still looking at the book and I watch his back move up and down as he breathes. He doesn’t turn around to look at me until I say, “yeah. I’d love to.” His mouth stretches across his face in a smile. 

“You won’t be too afraid?” His eyes narrow and I laugh, shaking my head. “Okay, good. I’ll knock around 5? Watch the sunset?” His words turn up in question and I tell him that’s perfect and he smiles wider and steps toward me. He leans down, his breath hitting my ear. “Get some sleep.” When he walks past me, his shoulders brush mine gently and I can’t stop myself from reaching down and catching his wrist before he gets too far away. His body spins around to face me and we crash together harder than I anticipated. It knocks the wind out of me but Conrad’s hands steady me. They grab my waist and hold me stable even when my entire body shivers as we make eye contact. “What?” 

I let out a shaky breath and I think about Josh. About how it felt the first time we kissed: exhilarating, powerful, real, and hot. Every atom of my body felt like it was on fire but right now I feel calm. Like a cloud that’s swimming through the sky slowly but too fast all at the same time. As I lean in now, I don’t feel a fire in my bones. They feel like jello. They feel like they’re floating. “Are you sure?” He asks me and I nod without thinking and instead of pulling away like I should have, I kiss him. I kiss him long and hard with my fingers in his hair and his pressed into my hips and when he pulls away again, to ask me one more time, I have to stop myself.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m so fucking sorry.” My shaky hands go to my lips as I stagger away from him. The look on his face is hard to decipher but it’s painful, nonetheless. “I don’t know why I did that. It wasn’t fair.” What I meant was it wasn’t fair to him because I still loved Josh. It wasn’t fair to me because I still loved Josh. It wasn’t fair to Belly because she still loved Conrad, didn’t she? The guilt is what pushed him away. 

“It’s okay,” he says. He’s trying to find an answer in my face that he won’t be able to find and he reaches for my hand. I let him grab it. “It’s okay. I’ll come to get you in the morning, alright?” He squeezes my hand and I nod and watch him leave. I stare at the back of the door until his bedroom door closes behind him.

taglist: @marajillana@liltimmyst@angelayse @nani-2305 @drikawinchester

#tsitp #conrad fisher #the summer i turned pretty #conrad fisher x reader #tsitp imagine #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher rec #conrad fisher fluff #conrad fisher one shot #conrad fisher fic #tsip conrad #chris briney #belly conklin #jenny han

[hannuhbee]

𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗽𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗹𝗲𝘀

childhood best friends, things only you know, and secrets.

pairing; steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings; steve is sorta mean for a little bit, childhood bestfriends to lovers (almost), neighbors <3, swearing, best friend robin, mutual pining (but its secret...), not edited,  lmk if i need to add anything :)

wc; 4k

memories were a tough thing. on one hand, they were nice, they were a place you could escape to when things got hard. on the other, they could open up a hole in your chest and bring you the most pain you’ve ever felt.

needless to say, you were iffy on remembering things, especially when they came to a certain someone with big hair.

you put your mother’s photo album in your lap and skimmed through. polaroids decorated the carefully thought-out pages. you came across a page full of firsts, and touched one of them. it read;

FIRST BIKE RIDE.

“stevie!” you dragged out. “you’re too fast!”

steve looked back at you, not hearing what you said. he waved. “catch up!”

steve learned how to ride a bike faster than you, and took the liberty of teaching you. he was just kind like that.

it was a hot day in hawkins, and steve had noticed your garage was open. he had an extra bike, although it was too big, even for him. he had just learned how to ride a bike, and you, being his best friend,  just had to learn too.

“you’re getting it! kind of wobbly, but you’re staying up!” he praised.

it was fun, though you were behind him most of the time. you ended up a couple blocks away. you both were sweaty.

steve, even though you two were nine, was already so touchy. it was just how he was programmed. he had an arm slung around your shoulder, holding you close. “you ready to head back now?”

you laughed and joked, “no.” you mounted the bike anyway.

it was hard to relive the memories as you looked at the pictures.

moving onto the next, it was a blurry photo titled;

DIVING CONTEST.

you were on the edge of the pool, steve was in the water under you.

“you can do it, just dive over me!” he pressured you.

it was something he learned recently, diving. he made you stand in the deep end while he dived over you. it was scary, the thought of him landing on you.

he looked up to you with puppy dog eyes, begging you to try and dive.

“oh, i really hate you!” and with that, you dove. you didn’t want to brag, but you felt as if you dove better than steve.

as you surfaced, steve was clapping. “you did it! what’d i tell you?”

he hugged you for your bravery.

summers were mostly spent at steve’s, since he had a pool. his parents were gone most of the time too, so you didn’t have any eyes on you, telling you what you can and can’t do.

you two were fourteen.

the next photos were taken when you and steve had turned sixteen, and he had just gotten his car, a beautiful maroon BMW. he took you everywhere in it. there were pictures of you and steve on the hood with ice cream, you and steve headbanging to music you wouldn’t normally think of headbanging to, and one of you and steve off to your first day of high school.

highschool was scary for you, you knew that steve was going to do his own thing and leave you to do yours. that was okay, that’s how life worked.

in the year leading up to freshman year, you noticed that steve was changing. he was going out more, mostly late at night. you knew this because you could see him getting ready in his room, as his window was right across from yours. he didn’t bring you with him.

you two were young, and people grew apart. you knew that.

however, if you closed your eyes and tried hard enough to visualize it, you could picture him slipping from you. he was dangling over a black abyss, gripping onto your wrist. you were trying so hard to keep a hold on him, but he was slipping ever so slightly.

“hey babe, you’re doing it again.” a familiar voice pulled you out of your daydream.

you shake your head. “sorry, robin. it’s just... hard.” you say, pushing the photo album out of your lap. you gave a weak smile.

robin sat next to you on the floor, eyes skimming over the photos. “it’s alright, i understand how it feels to lose people.” she looked at you, then corrected herself, “or feeling like you’re going to lose someone.”

“am i going to lose you?”

she laughed, “you are such an idiot! you’ll never lose me, dingus.”

robin made it all better.

it was sophomore year, and your grip on steve had loosened even more. it scared you to no end.

you had found robin and immediately hit it off. you two were inseparable during freshman year. you still talked to steve of course, but rarely. he would avoid your eyes in the halls if he was with his friends, and would give you a small wave and smile if he was alone.

it was different outside of school though. he would also have his window open so you could hear his music playing. he would invite you over to swim, even if it was too cold to swim, but his pool was heated for christ’s sake.

when he invited you over to swim, you would always end the night in his room, on his bed. it was more intimate than it had been when you were kids. you sat and talked for hours, still damp from swimming.

you learned that he had his first kiss, and almost made it to second base but the girls parents walked in. you laughed at that. “you’re so stupid.” you would say.

steve was going to parties, but you knew that. you could see his headlights turn on every night he left.

he seemed so happy to have his group of friends, but you knew that they weren’t good people. they were awful, and would only continue to get worse.

when steve asked how you had been, you had to refrain from saying, “i’m awful steve. nothing is enjoyable anymore, because you aren’t with me.”

you settled for “i’m decent, getting good grades.”

steve’s music taste hadn’t changed much. he still put on shitty pop music only you liked. that was a secret he would kill you for if you ever let it out. he would die if his cool new high school friends ever knew he enjoyed shitty pop.

“hey, what do you say we go make some milkshakes?”

“milkshakes?”

robin jumped up. “yeah! how hard can it be? you have ice cream and milk right? just blend ‘em together and you’ve got a milkshake!”

you laughed. you loved robin.

your milkshakes turned out bad. they were too milky and not as frozen as normal milkshakes. you were eating them in your backyard. the grass was making your legs itch. the sun was setting.

“is that-?” robin asked. a car was pulling into the driveway of the house beside you.

“yup. let’s go in, yeah?” you ask and she nodded.

it was a blessing and a curse that you could look directly into his window from yours.

“oh my god! my eyes! they burn!” robin exclaims. as usual, steve had a girl over.

“god, why can’t he buy curtains?”

“his ego’s too big for that.” robin joked, and you laughed. hard. it was true, steve’s ego had grown bigger than his hair.

you sighed and flopped onto your bed. “what do you say we watch some awful movies?”

“i thought you’d never ask.”

junior year came around and steve had grown even more distant. he didn’t invite you inside anymore. you could see his room had changed, it wasn’t as childish as before. his walls were bare and weird. he shut you out of that part of his life.

he invited you over to swim once, then kicked you out when he remembered he had a girl coming over.

“why are you being like this?” you ask. your voice was small. you didn’t think it would come to this.

he scoffed. “what are you talking about?”

“you’re not... you anymore. not the steve i used to know.”

“i’m the same, it’s you that changed.” he spit. it was out of character for him, even then.

you did change, you could admit that, but you didn’t change nearly as much as him. he got mean. he wasn’t the little boy you would share popsicles with anymore.

after being pushed out of his yard, you sulked into your house and into your room. you were still dripping water. you wiped your eyes, confusing the wetness for water. it was tears. steve harrington had made you cry.

you dried off and went to call robin. “robs?”

“what’s up?” she said unusually chipper. “something wrong?”

“i don’t know. i’m so confused.”

“i’ll be over in a few, i’ve got red vines.” and she hung up.

you laughed through tears. you didn’t even like red vines.

robin slept over and left in the early morning, before you woke up. robin ate all of the red vines while you vented about steve. it was then that you admitted you loved him. something you thought you’d keep hidden away, somewhere where no one could find it.

“i get that, loving someone who doesn’t love you back.” she said. you didn’t know what she meant, but you appreciated it.

you got dressed, rubbing your face aggressively before walking out the door. a part of you wondered if steve felt bad for last night, if he would offer you a ride to school. he hadn’t driven you anywhere in years, though. it’s alright, you had your bike. the one steve had given to you when he taught you how to ride.

the air was getting colder, a sign of fall. it reminded you of the days you spent in steve’s bed watching movies, of when he would make you hot chocolate and get mad if you joked about spilling it in his bed.

when you arrived to school, you saw steve and a girl sitting on his hood. she was a different girl than the numerous others you had seen with him. perfectly permed blonde hair and bright pink lips. did he even really like her?

you didn’t want to watch, but you couldn’t pull your eyes off them. she was laughing loudly about something he said, putting a hand on his chest and leaning in.

it aggravated you for some reason. she wouldn’t know him like you did. none of the girls would know him like you did. no one would know about the scar on his right knee, and they wouldn’t know that he got it from a parkour mishap. they wouldn’t know that the large freckle on his right shoulder was used as the center for a flower, one that you drew on him. they wouldn’t even know that he tolerated shitty pop music. he tolerated it for you.

they didn’t know steve like you knew steve.

as you were remembering little details about him, you heard laughing. they were laughing at you. you felt your face heat up, and your feet moved faster than your brain could even process that they were laughing at you.

“oh my god.” you whispered. “what was i just doing, oh god!”

“hey, are you o-” robin said as you passed her.

you ran into the bathroom and slid down the wall. normally, you would dread even coming into the bathroom, especially sitting on the floor.

robin was close to follow. “what’s going on? did someone say something? i’ll beat them up.”

you laughed. robin would definitely not beat someone up, but the thought was nice. “no, it’s me. i don’t know what’s wrong with me. he’s... he’s slipping from me.”

“steve? why’s he slipping?”

you explained to her what you visualize, him slipping from your grasp every waking hour, and how bad it hurt.

robin was, rarely, lost for words. she resorted to hugging you, though the position was awkward.

“fuck him.”

you laughed, ignoring the tears coming out of your eyes. “yeah, fuck him.”

robin had lifted you up off the ground and walked you to your class. first period was the only hour you didn’t have with steve, thank god. you could feel the day already passing by as slow as it possibly could.

by the time third period had rolled around, you couldn’t ignore steve’s presence anymore. it seemed as if he was trying even harder to be obnoxious.

you raised your hand. “can i use the bathroom?” the teacher began to shake his head before you spoke up again. “girl problems.”

as if “girl problems” was something to never be spoken about ever, everyone got silent and turned to look at you, including steve. you fought the urge to look back, but could feel his eyes burning into your back. it was almost too bad. the teacher nodded and you grabbed your bag and left.

you wouldn’t be going back to that classroom today.

once in the bathroom, you were relieved to see it was empty.

if someone asked you to describe how you were feeling, you would say a leaf. a leaf that someone burned using a magnifying glass, something could easily be blown away and forgotten. in a way, you had been easily blown away and forgotten. you never thought this would happen.

soon, the bell rang and it was time for lunch. you and robin sat at a designated picnic table outside. she was usually late, and this day was no different.

one thing you hated was how steve’s group had gravitated towards the outside. it’s stupid, you thought. why would people just now begin to eat outside if the weather was getting colder?

while waiting for robin, your brain had flipped a switch. you needed to confront steve, you were done running away.

he wasn’t far away from you, another thing you hated.

“steve, can i talk to you?” you were shaking, oh god how you hated that.

steve just looked around and laughed, “any of you know her?” and everyone said “nope”.

you finally lost your grip on him.

and that was it. you were running. you cursed yourself for not just sitting and waiting for robin.

you cursed high school, for the way it took your best friend from you, or maybe it wasn’t high school. maybe it was steve himself. maybe you two just weren’t made to be friends for that long. maybe your friendship had an expiration date, and it had run out.

you didn’t want to be at school anymore, and you were okay with getting shit for ditching. you just couldn’t handle it anymore - the embarrassment. no one knew you, no one knew that you and steve are friends. were friends.

grabbing your bike and unlocking it, you rode away from school. people were looking, you knew that.

getting home, you didn’t bother to use the kickstand on the bike, you just let it fall to the ground. steve would’ve hated seeing that. good, you thought.

you had a box under your bed that you hated getting out, it hurt too bad. it was full of notes that steve had written you, notes in your locker in freshman year, notes in your lunches from second grade. you had matching mood rings in there, including his. he said “i’m getting too old to wear this, you can have it. y’know, for memories.” god how that hurt.

you wanted so badly to throw it away. you wanted to chuck the whole box out of the window and light it on fire. “no, god, no.” you said to yourself. you were being irrational. you would regret it if you destroyed it. what if steve wanted to talk again? but, you thought, that’ll never happen.

senior year was both fun and hard. fun because it was your last year in that god forsaken high school, and hard because steve had gotten even more popular. he was the king of hawkins high. he forgot you even more.

he didn’t invite you over anymore, and he finally got curtains.

he started dating nancy wheeler, a junior. you liked her, she was always nice to you. she was so smart too. you hated to think it, but you couldn’t stop wondering why they got together. she seemed too good for him.

you and robin had grown closer over the year. so close that you two had your own box. steves box was shoved haphazardly into your closet, forgotten.

school was strange, steve seemed to look at you more, but you didn’t know if he wanted to. you could feel his gaze on you, and when you turned back he immediately looked away. he was blushing almost, but you pushed that out of your mind.

“hey, you listening?”

you shook your head. it was a regular occurrence that you would daydream. “yeah, sorry. what were you saying?”

“there’s a party tonight, at tina’s.” robin mentioned.

“oh right. no way am i going to that.” you laughed. you weren’t a fan of parties, but you weren’t opposed to going to one. the only thing keeping you from this one was steve. he would undoubtedly be there.

robin sighed, “look, i know it’s about steve.” you looked at her. “which is fine by the way! i just think that this would be an opportunity to talk to him, y’know?”

you groaned loudly. “i love you robin, but you are so stupid sometimes.”

she laughed, “i know. but seriously, i think going to this party will be good for you, get your minds off things. who knows, maybe steve will come to you.”

you ran your hands down your face. “i don’t even have a costume.”

she shrugged. “so what? i’m sure people will be too excited to get drunk and forget to wear costumes.”

robin said she couldn’t come because her parents were expecting her home. you understood, but your hands were sweating from nerves as you opened the door to the house alone. robin was wrong for the most part, people were in costumes, with the majority wearing them.

the floor was sticky and stained, and it smelled like sweat. the living room was filled with teens dancing. it was shoulder-to-shoulder. loud music blasted throughout the house.

it seemed that you got there at the right time, as you saw steve stumbled down the stairs and out of the house. he looked angry, and sad almost.

though you had no alcohol in your system, you felt drunk, not in your right mind. you would never do this sober.

you tried to follow steve out of the house, but kept getting pushed around. it was all too hot in there, and you felt sticky. something definitely spilled on you.

by the time you got outside, steve was sitting on the porch. very few people were sat outside, and the few who were outside were smoking.

you exhaled, you didn’t even know you were holding your breath. you sat down next to steve.

“hi.”

he looked at you strange, as if he was trying to remember who you were. you felt your heart break into a million tiny pieces. “hi.” he finally said.

“i’m sorry if this is weird-” you began.

he cut you off. “no, it’s alright. i should be sorry.”

you should be, you thought. “why?”

he laughed. “i was an asshole, i am an asshole.”

“yeah.” you agreed. he was an asshole. “what did i do to make you so... mean to me?”

he shook his head and looked you in the eyes. you were almost too close. he still smelled the same. “you didn’t do anything. i was so closed off from everyone that i forgot everything i knew. i forgot that you were a human.”

you laughed as you felt your eyes welling up with tears. “i get that. do you wanna, i don’t know, take a walk?”

he nodded his head and stood up. “sure.”

as you walked inside the house again, you felt everyone’s eyes on you. why were you, a nobody, walking with steve harrington, and leading him somewhere no less.

steve took a deep breath when you got out of the cramped house, like he had been holding his breath the whole time. you wouldn’t blame him though, you almost couldn’t breathe at all in there.

“i’m sorry to pry, but did something happen in there? you seemed all... upset.”

he nodded. his voice was small, like he was a child again. “yeah, nancy uh, she said it’s all bullshit. i’m bullshit.”

“why?”

he shrugged and kicked a rock on the sidewalk. “she said, ‘like we’re in love’. i just walked out, i didn’t know what to do.”

“i’m sorry.” you said. you were sincere, knowing how much that must’ve hurt.

“it’s alright, i think it’s over. me and nance.”

“high school’s a bitch.” you said simply. he laughed. you loved his laugh. you missed his laugh.

“i missed you.”

you almost didn’t hear it. it took you a couple seconds to respond. “i missed you too.”

“what do you say we go back to mine and share a popsicle? like the old times.”

if you had time to visualize it, you would’ve seen steve standing under you, ready to catch you. you were the one falling this time.

“yeah, i’d like that.”

steve’s house was the same as you remembered it. it was bare, no real use for a decorated house if there was only really one resident.

he pulled a popsicle out of the freezer and broke it in half. “for you.” he kneeled down and presented it like a ring, like he would when you were kids.

“thank you, kind sir.”

he laughed. it still felt weird, talking to him. it felt too natural, but you guessed it was natural.

he led you outside, to the loungers next to the pool. it was too cold to be outside, but it felt warmer with steve there.

he was staring at you, you felt it. it was silent for a few minutes. “you still have it?”

“what?” you said. he pointed to your wrist. “oh yeah, i forgot about it.”

“i still have mine.” he said. he was talking about the matching friendship bracelets you had made. they were around five years old and they definitely showed it. yours had lost it’s bright color and had turned a nasty gray. “i didn’t like, willingly take it off if that means anything. it fell off in the shower. it’s in my wallet.”

“that means a lot, steve.” you said, genuinely. “it took me hours to make that shit.”

you both laughed. deep down, you hoped a part of him felt the same way you did, happy, relieved.

“i know a shitty popsicle doesn’t make anything better, it doesn’t excuse my actions,” he looked at you in the eyes again. “but if you’d let me, i’d like to make it up to you. drive you around, take you to the movies, everything we said we’d do but never got to.”

“are you asking me on a date, harrington?” you laughed. your face felt hot, too hot for the temperature outside.

he shrugged, “nah, i would never go on a date with you.” you could tell he was being sarcastic. he’s back, you thought. you missed his sarcasm. “but would you like that? to be friends again?”

you smiled. “yeah, i would.”

and you fell into a comfortable silence again. “did you know i had like, the biggest crush on you?”

you blinked. “what?”

“when we were kids, i was crushing on you, hard.” he laughed. “that’s sorta why i left you hanging. you didn’t feel the same way and i couldn’t handle that sort of rejection.”

“you’re an idiot, steve.”

you both laughed.

“what does that mean?”

“it means i liked you too, and if i’m being completely honest here, and don’t you dare make fun of me, i don’t think that crush went away.”

he smiled at you. “yeah, it’s kinda obvious. you’re very obvious.”

“i am not!” you leaned over to hit his shoulder.

again, you two just laughed. it felt good. it felt right.

something in his eyes and the way he looked at you told you his crush hadn’t gone away either.

steve had caught you.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fluff #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you

[ayarsi]

Good Omentober + Fictober (2)

Good Omentober Day 2 - stars

Fictober Prompt #7 - “Do you recognize this?

Fanfiction - Good Omens

Rating - G

Wordcount - 751

(A REALLY late post but school requirements are so draining and stressful. I already wrote this beforehand but didn't have time to post. Since I can't seem to squish in some writing in between school and other things, I guess I'll just have to post the fics on the weekends.)

Novalunosis

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

Aziraphale gasped loud enough for Crowley to hear from across the hall. It wouldn’t be surprising though, as she was used to Aziraphale’s dramatic reactions. This time, however, Crowley felt something was off. Something happened. She mumbled a few complaints but soon got up from her perch on the sofa and strutted over to the bookshelves to find the angel.

“Crowley! There you are,” said Aziraphale, a giddy smile plastered on his face. “I found something that you might find delightful. Hold on, I lost the page.”

He was holding quite a thick book and frantically flipping through the musty pages to find whatever he gasped about. Crowley simply stood there leaning against a shelf, possibly muttering the same comments she made earlier.

Another gasp of excitement. Aziraphale held the book up to Crowley’s face, pointing at a colorful illustration. “Ah yes, here it is! Do you recognize this?”

Crowley squinted. “What is.. that.”

A moment of confusion. A second of realization.

“Oh! Oh. Right.”

--

One angel, busy admiring the splendour of her work. Her companion was also busy admiring, not the flashes of light or the formation of celestial objects in front of him, but of her. He was fascinated with how the colors reflected in her eyes, of her wide grin as she watched what she called a nebula form--there were too many reasons to list.

Sure, he had only just met her a while ago. Maybe he saw her around in the halls of heaven but didn’t really notice. But there’s this something about her that sparks curiosity in Aziraphale, a curiosity to know more about her.

…

“Oh,” the starmaker angel marvelled. “Look at you, you’re gorgeous.”

Aziraphale blushed. “Why, thank-”

Oh. It wasn’t him. She wasn’t talking about him. She was still watching the nebula. Oh. It was a good thing Aziraphale’s voice was wasn’t too loud, was it? Oh, the embarrassment.

Crowley loved the stars. She loved them too much. That’s why God must have thought the best way to punish her, by removing the most important thing Crowley fought for. By not allowing her to see. All those billions and trillions of stars and nebulae and other celestial objects created by Crowley, she would never be able to see clearly again.

--

“I’m sorry. It slipped out of my mind, Crowley.”

“Ngkk It’s nothing. Well, there is something there but I just can’t see it. I mean I can see it but not what it really is- Get what I mean?”

Aziraphale’s smile slowly morphed into that of a guilty frown.

“Angel. Angel, it’s fine” Crowley snatched the book (carefully, of course; she wouldn’t risk damaging Aziraphale’s precious book) from Aziraphale’s hands and studied the illustration inches away from her face. To her, it wasn’t comprehensible and all the colors were a blurry mess. But she tried. She tried to remember.

Crowley hated it when Aziraphale was guilty of anything trivial. It’s not just because she didn’t want her angel to fuss and apologize, it’s because his apology means he’ll do anything and everything to make Crowley feel better. And the silence that was happening after Crowley’s statement meant that Aziraphale was going to do just that: make up for it.

“Crowley.”

“Er, shh. Quiet down, I’m trying to-”

“Yes, I know, and I’m awfully sorry to-”

“Nah.”

“What do you mean ‘nah’?”

“You’re saying sorry, why? You can’t do anything about it and it’s not even your fault.”

Another thing Aziraphale does that Crowley absolutely ‘despises’ is when Aziraphale goes all soft and rather gentle and-

“No.”

“I haven’t even said a word yet.”

“Exactly. I’m stopping you so you don’t have to say anything.”

“Crowley.”

“Let’s go stargazing. Well, I’ll gaze at the stars and I’ll describe them to you. You do know that I am excellent at describing things.” (He isn’t. Crowley just loves to listen to anything he has to say.)

“Ehh-”

“Come on now. May I tempt you for a walk around St. James’s Park? And perhaps some laying on the grass and-”

“Fine. I should be the one doing the tempting, angel.”

Aziraphale simply smiled. Crowley held back hers. Instead, she looked directly into Aziraphale’s eyes. Even if she couldn’t see the stars in the books and the stars above, she could still see one at least. She can’t remember when or how Aziraphale got stars in his eyes, but Crowley doesn’t care. She’s content; she can stare at Aziraphale’s eyes for as long as she liked.

#fictober23 #good omentober #my fic #gomens #gomens2 #good omens #crowley #angel crowley #prefall crowley #starmaker #starmaker crowley #stars #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale #stargazing

[listerbirdloml]

ANOTHER ONE WORD PROMPT but this one is SHORT and kinda SAD idk.

content warning is lister contemplating why he's currently lying in a ditch bleeding out and what he did to piss the sky off. only 554 words. I think this legit took ten minutes.

ty @thediamondarcher for the word!!

Sky

He can’t see the sky.

He’s lying partially on his side, and he can’t see the sky.

He doubts that even if he wasn’t stuck in this position, in the freezing cold river as the pain slowly seeps through past the edge of alchol, he'd be able to see the sky anyway. It’s so dark. It’s almost pitch black, and the heavy rain and thick trees above him do nothing to aid his vision.

Sometimes, without any prompting or accompanying message, his mum will send him photos of the sky back home. Rose dusks, cerise dawns, cerulean days. Anything she thought pretty enough to maybe improve her estranged son's day. Anything to remind him that she existed. Anything to catch his attention. Anything to say, please, please respond to this. As always, his only response was the money he sent every month.

When he was younger, around 5 or 6, he remembers going to see his dad in Glasgow. He had stayed for three weeks, and on the final night, he had snuck out to the small back garden. He and his mum didn’t have a garden. At the time, they didn’t even have their own flat. All they had was a spare room at his maternal grandparents flat. He had just wanted to see the stars from a garden he might be able to call home.

He could see the sky that night. But he couldn’t see stars. He knew as he grew up that it was the light pollution. Glasgow was much bigger than Chatham, after all. At the time, however, he thought it was the sky's punishment for him not going to bed at the time he was supposed to. punishing him for wanting more than it could provide. punishing him for being so bad.

He wasn’t sure what this was punishment for. There were too many faults to pin only one to this. Was it for assaulting Jimmy in that bathroom? for leaking that god-forsaken picture of Jimmy and Rowan? Maybe distancing himself from his mum. Maybe this was the sky punishing him again. It had punished him for sneaking out with no stars, and it had now punished him for leaving by taking away the sky entirely. His eyes close, and he pictures the sunset and how it would rise over Kent in the winter mornings as he walked to school.

When he wakes up next, he still can’t see the sky. But what he can see is the blurry outline of Jimmy Kaga-Ricci. He’s crying, maybe. He thinks he can feel Jimmy shake from where his head rests in his lap. Or maybe it's himself. The river is getting colder, but Jimmy provides phantom heat. The sky may have left him, but Jimmy had not. That girl is with him. Angel. an angel sent from the sky. They’re arguing about taking the knife out. He doesn’t know what knife they’re talking about. He closes his eyes and imagines the dusk falling over London from their flat window.

The final time he wakes up, he’s in a hospital bed. He’s loopy; he can’t think straight, but he doesn’t feel any pain. Rowan and Jimmy are asleep on chairs next to his bed, and the curtains are open.

Lister watches the sun rise and thanks it for ending his punishment.

#i was born for this #iwbft #alice oseman #osemanverse #lister bird #jimmy kaga ricci #rowan omondi #one word prompt

[artsybelle1015]

Not Safe Here Pt. 2

“See?” Kalim uttered to the Prefect. “He’s out of it!”

“I am not,” Jamil disagreed, he was fine, there was no reason for him to be there; he began to remember how Kalim kicked him out and forced him the ramshackle dorm. There was a glare boring into Kalim, his breath quickening from the hatred he was feeling.

Part One || Part Two

Warnings(!!!): gore, death, panic attacks, aggressiveness, SPOILERS FOR BOOK 4!!!

•••

A slow blink came about, nothing was quiet anymore, nothing was blurry anymore. He heard voices discussing. What he saw down below was a wooden ground on the verge of breaking.

Snapping his head up, Jamil eyes laid upon Kalim and the Prefect.

For some reason, he was holding a bag and so was Kalim. Everything around him had an evening glow, strange, last time he checked it was bright as day out.

Wait, how much time has passed?

A snap of fingers quickly flashed over his face, it was very loud too that it made Jamil jump, backing away. He furrowed his brows and hunched over, glaring at Kalim for scaring him like that.

“See?” Kalim uttered to the Prefect. “He’s out of it!”

“I am not,” Jamil disagreed, he was fine, there was no reason for him to be there; he began to remember how Kalim kicked him out and forced him the ramshackle dorm. There was a glare boring into Kalim, his breath quickening from the hatred he was feeling.

Kalim backed away, seeming to be a little frightened, even the Prefect backed away.

Jamil face distorted back to numb. He did it again, he isn’t any better. Now everyone is scared of him, he will be alone forever. All he will ever be is Kalim’s servant. There’s no way he should go out into the real world anymore, all he would do is get angry and crave to abuse. He would overblot again and may never be pulled out.

Everything is unfair, he was still a complete failure. He could never look at his parents and sister again. What was the point in all of this? What was the point in his life? He can’t even serve.

Life was suppose to be him out of the spotlight, an average student, an average person.

His thoughts went silent for some time.

___

You quietly stared at Jamil sleeping on your couch.

The three ghosts and Grim were examining him as well. Grim shouting protests about him being here whilst the ghosts were thinking of activities to do as he stayed in this busted up house.

Sitting down at the table, your head began to pound, regretting the choice of bringing him in here. He wasn’t your problem, yet Kalim made you feel responsible for him even though he didn’t mean to. He kept begging and pleading, on the verge of tears for his friend. You felt obligated for sure.

When you saw Jamil about to lose it on your porch, that’s when you realized how hard this will be. He was mentally unstable.

Goddamn Crowley for not putting counselors or therapists on this god forsaken school. It wasn’t fair you were the one stuck being a therapist and caring for everyone while you were already about to break down too.

“Henchman!” hollered Grim, jumping up on the kitchen table at which you sat. “Let’s just send him to another dorm, I’m sure Azul would love to have him.”

Your nose scrunched, disgusted by that idea. Sure, they may be getting along better, but Jamil barely has in interest in Azul and was terribly annoyed with his existence, that would make Jamil lose it more. And you had already promised Kalim to take care of him, how could you break Kalim’s heart? He was a good guy towards all of you, he deserved some help especially after all he went through with the manipulation and hypnosis.

“No Grim, that’s a horrible idea,” you sighed.

“Is not?” he hissed. “That guys psycho!”

Thinking of a solution to get Grim to shut up, you decided to just bargain with the stubborn cat. “I will buy you that tuna you really wanted everyday for dinner if you suck this up.”

Grim paused, thinking on it. “Well, henchman, you think you can just bribe with me on this, how stupid you are, but I will take you up on it.” He was refusing to admit that he wanted to do it, of course. That’s how he always was.

“Okay.”

___

No. No.

He was staring down at Kalim and the Prefect. Kalim was facing down, face hidden by the ground. The Prefect was breathing heavily, bleeding out.

Staring down at his hands, they were covered in blood, their blood specifically.

The Prefect kept a whimper, tryna stand a bit to get away, but their body couldn’t budge. There was a small crack, indicating many broken bones in their body. He did this to them.

Slowly turning to Kalim, he took some shaky steps. Crouching down, he saw no movements within Kalim’s body. His heart froze.

Without much of a choice, his arm reached out and turned Kalim’s face towards him.

Still movements, time froze. What stared back at him made the world stop. Now he could feel his heart, it was pounding, trying to break free of him, probably disgusted at the monster it kept alive.

Kalim, dulls eyes stared at him; his mouth ajar, spilling blood. Pale and cold, that’s how he felt, yet the blood covering the top of his head was warm and fresh.

Backing away, Jamil saw the world speed up. Everything spun but Kalim’s body, his dead eyes staring at him.

He saw people now, staring at him in horror. Glancing to the side, he saw Azul, Jade, and Floyd broadcasting this scene, laughing their heads off. It wasn’t funny, Kalim was dead, why wouldn’t anyone do anything?

Even though everyone was a blur, their eyes weren’t, they were boring into him.

The Prefect slowly stood up, like their bones weren’t broken and had no reaction to anything. Instead, there was an exhausted yet numb look. Mimicking the one he saw in the mirror. All the Prefect did was walk to the students of Octavinelle, Jade coaxing them into a hug as they all walked away.

Soon enough, everyone walked away, like they never saw a thing. Yet, Kalim body remained there, still dead.

The world fades to black, yet him and Kalim still remained.

He killed Kalim, he killed Kalim and overblotted. How could he do this—he was a monster. Looking back down at his hands, he finally saw behind the blood how different and dried up they were, he was in overblot. How did he not see that before?

Tears began to pool in his eyes, he hated Kalim yet was grieving his death. This was unexpected yet made sense.

He was thinking maybe it was because he swore to his family he would protect the eldest son of the Asim. But no, it wasn’t that. He wasn’t upset because of his family right now, he was upset because Kalim was dead and he was dead because of Jamil, not an assassin.

Covering his face, he let out a cry.

“Jamil.” a hasty voice rang out.

Lowering his hands, his pupils shrunk in horror as he watched Kalim stand up. He still looked like a corpse, but held a smile.

Walking over to Jamil, he hugged him, nuzzling into his shoulder. He killed Kalim- but Kalim was forgiving him.

“Are you stupid?” Jamil sobbed. “I killed you.”

Kalim only looked up and smiled to him, suddenly pushing him to the ground, but instead of a thump, Jamil fell through the floor.

He couldn’t see, when he tried to open his eyes, but it was all black and stung. This was ink, ink like from his overblot.

Throat now pooled up. He started to choke, to drown. Drown in the mess he made.

If only he had stayed quiet, this wouldn’t be his fate, it wouldn’t be Kalim’s fate. Things would’ve been okay and normal. Doesn’t matter how upset Jamil was, how much he hated his life, that past was better than what was happening now.

When he felt like he was about to be dragged to hell, he suddenly landed on solid ground.

Jamil eyes shot open, quickly he sat up and coughed up ink. He was covered from head to toe with the black substance, but he noticed he was in his school uniform and warm again. He was himself.

There was standing room, the ceiling about being flowing ink that stayed in place, refusing to drip down.

He decided to get up and looks around, the ink slowly fading off his body. Everything in his body calmed down, now wanting to explore this new place. He had always wanted to explore, it was one of his dreams, but he didn’t expect a blank gray space.

Maybe this was limbo, or possibly hell. Hell was associated with being hot and burning, yet this place was cold and empty. Was it a personal hell?

Well, he thought it was empty, but the sound of wailing proved otherwise. Quickly whipping around into that direction, Jamil almost tripped from the speed.

His eyes widened. It was Kalim’s mother who was wailing like her life depended on it. She was dressed in all black and being consoled by her husband.

Next to her stood all of Kalim’s younger siblings, some crying, some staring.

But the worst sight to see, was Jamil sister and parents there too, a pained and sorrow look on their faces.

Not only had he hurt Kalim, he hurt two whole families.

Guilt wallowed up, filling him to the core. He slowly walked over, steps heavy and loud, like there was a weight trying to stop him. No, he needed to apologize to Kalim, but his body was trying to refuse.

With each step the force made it harder until Jamil crashed under it. Smacking his face against the ground and his groan in pained caught attention.

His parents specifically, looked at him while everyone else seemed to have not noticed. There faces filled with hatred, hatred for their own child. Yet, there was pity and disappointment mixed in.

Slowly, everyone faded away. And Jamil sat there, helpless, unable to move even an inch. His eyes slowly shut in exhaustion.

___

Something was vibrating against his legs, the thing felt quite soft.

He didn’t want to open his eyes, he didn’t want to see this world again, yet he had to, he had to face hell and his punishment. But he had to… he needed to know what was against his leg.

When Jamil opened his eyes, all he saw was a normal ceiling. No ink, no gray, it was a warm brown and dusty. There was a hue of orange coming from his right, he glanced over to investigate and it was a fire.

The thing against his legs was the Prefect’s friend, Grim. Strange, Grim didn’t seem like the type to do this cat—like sort of thing, he was normally aggressive.

Looking back up at the ceiling, he realized it was just a dream. A nightmare actually.

He noticed too looking around with his eyes this was most likely the ramshackle dorm, considering that Grim was next to him and the place was worn down. The couch even felt scratchy.

Despite how disgusting this environment felt, he stayed glued to the couch, forced to lay down by his own body. Just like how it was in the dream but more comfy, it had a pillow and blanket at least, and was warm.

The ramshackle, why was he here? Did Kalim actually kick him out? Stupid question to ask, obviously. Yet he doesn’t remember entering or falling asleep. In fact, he couldn’t remember much, everything would go blank and then suddenly he would appear from place to place, his mind bombarding him about his failures and how worthless and pathetic he was. He kept thinking about ending up as overblot again, he didn’t want that to happen so he would force his body to numb the emotion.

Clearly, that didn’t work in his favor, because now the days were shortened.

Creaks from floorboards could he heard. Jamil’s heart races, he wanted to get up and leave, run away, but couldn’t. He really was stuck.

The footsteps creeped closer.

He shut his eyes, not wanting to see who is there. Fearing for his life now, fearing of the look he would get. Heart was pounding the same way as the dream, wanting to escape, wanting him dead.

There was a long pause, long yet quick.

Then, all he felt was the blanket being slightly lifted and pulled up more.

He was okay?

Finally drooping his eyes open, he saw the Prefect walking away.

•••

Authors Note: I want to cry- tried to generalize the reader by going off what I felt as if most people felt playing the game plus some realism in how a person would feel in this situation, I promise the character you’re written as won’t be boring!

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst jamil #twst jamil viper #twst kamil #twst kalim al asim #twst grim #twst prefect #twst azul #jamil viper #kalim al asim #azul ashengrotto #grim #jamil x reader #second pov #angst fanfic #twst fanfiction #twst fan fiction #twisted wonderland fanfic #twisted wonderland fanfiction #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #yuu #twst mc #twst yuu #twst y/n #twst wonderland #fanfic #fanfiction #small artist

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Three (Part 4)

My face feels very warm and I want to go outside for air. I ask Liam if he will get me a glass of icy water at the bar, and I go down the steps into the back entrance of the pub. My ears are ringing from all the noise inside, but the quiet and the cool air outside is nice. I go around to the side of the building where I know there are picnic benches and I sit on one of them and wait for Liam. My body is still vibrating with adrenaline. 

I’m not alone outside, as a couple of the other picnic benches are occupied by people using this area as a beer garden, merrily chatting and drinking from pint glasses from the pub. There is a nice atmosphere and I am peacefully enjoying it until I see something that makes me seize up with anxiety. 

It’s the girl with the red hair from that house. She’s not very close to me, but she’s distinctive looking so I know for sure that it’s her. She’s chatting and laughing at a bench with a group of her friends. I haven’t thought about the house in the dunes since I found it almost a week ago. It feels like a dream now, some blurry vision or something from my imagination, but seeing her again makes it all real. I feel a horrible pit in my stomach, remembering guiltily that I stood in a patch of long grass and spied on her for reasons that were beyond explanation. 

Moments later I spot him too; the boy who got her the lighter. He’s telling a story I think. I can’t hear what he’s saying, only that his voice is deep, and everyone finds him very funny. I wonder in horror if any of those people had been inside the pub when Liam and I were doing our duet. The thought of that makes me want to vomit. I will the earth to tear open a gaping chasm and swallow me into it, for being gone from this world would be better than the humiliation I would feel if that boy had seen me sing Elton John into a karaoke microphone. 

The boy who is sitting next to him turns his head and says something, and I’m hit with a wave of recognition and confusion. Hang on, Is that Shane?

“Here’s your water.” Liam is back. I tear my eyes away from the group of friends and thank him. I am thrown. Are these the friends Shane said he was staying with? I wonder. Did I somehow spy on the one house on this beach where I know somebody who’s staying there?  The feeling of the cold glass against my palm seems to ground me though, and I think about how a glass of water has never looked so good in that moment. I take a long refreshing drink from it. 

“How are you feeling after that?” Liam wants to know, gesturing towards the pub behind us. 

“Yeah, good.” I say, even though I don’t anymore. “It was so fun.”

“My dad does karaoke night twice a week for the whole holiday season, you know, so if you ever feel like doing it again..”

“Yeah I’ll definitely think about it.”

I try to forget about the other table and look at Liam. He’s actually pretty easy to talk to. We chat about music and our favourite films, he tells me that he played football while he was at school, and I talk about the tennis club I go to. I can’t help but glance over at the other table again though. What is it about those people? Why am I so enthralled by them? I want to shake myself out of it. I force myself to look away, turning my back to them all the way and focus all my attention on Liam. 

 He’s friendly and nice company, and despite myself, eventually I start enjoying spending time with him. As he’s telling me a story about a time he went sailing around Ireland with his dad, I examine his face and decide that he’s very cute. He touches his hair a lot while he talks, and his eyes are so expressive, he seems excited and passionate about the things he’s telling me. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if we liked each other. 

“Where is your scar from?” I ask him, and I reach out without thinking and touch the little mark above his eyebrow. 

“A fight at school.” He says seriously. “I had to wrestle a knife out of this lad’s hand and it knicked my eyebrow.”

“Wait, what?” I say, astonished. 

“No, I’m joking. I fell off my bicycle when I was nine. I pulled the front brakes too hard and I flew right over the handlebars. Scraped my face on the curb.”

I gasp “I really believed you for a second about the knife! But still, I’m sorry that you had a bike accident, it sounds really bad.”

“Nobody bothered to send me to the hospital either.” He continues “I didn’t get stitches so that’s why the scar is still so obvious… Sorry Evie, I wish I had a better war story for you.”

“Yeah I would keep telling people the first one instead, it sounds way better.”

“Way more exciting, isn’t it?” He laughs, and then suddenly his face softens and I feel conscious of him watching me. “You’re so pretty.” 

I’m stunned. “Huh?”

“Has nobody told you before? I think you’re really really pretty.”

I blush. “Thank you.” It feels very out of the blue to me, but I suppose I’m  flattered. 

“You don’t have a boyfriend or anything, do you?” Usually I will lie and tell boys that I do, but for some reason this time I decide to be honest and I shake my head no. 

He smiles nervously. “Ah.. good. I was just thinking I’d ask.” I can see his hands are trembling slightly and I feel a surge of empathy. He looks down at them. “I was wondering if you’d want to like, go for a walk on the beach with me? Like maybe get away from the crowds here?”

I swallow hard and wipe my sweaty palms on my shorts, understanding what he’s asking. He doesn’t want to walk, he wants to go somewhere quiet so he can kiss me. Habit forces me to open my mouth and ready myself to say no; I’m too scared. Then I think about what Kelly would say if she found out about this and I know that I can’t turn him down. I don’t answer him, but I nod my head, and then he takes my hand and we walk out into the darkness together. 

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#sims #sims 4 #ts4 #simlit #sims 4 story #sims story #writing #fiction #romance #sims4 storytelling #sims 4 storytelling #sims storytelling #lucky girl part 1

[laundrybiscuits]

Omg okay that ask list is so much fun I'm overwhelmed with choices. This isn't small enough to count as "for want of a nail" but if you ever wanted to write palm split where Eddie gets the cut ... I'd love to read. Otherwise, purify our misfit ways - time after time - Eddie or Steve noticing the other at any point before the story begins ?

I do already have a snippet with that first premise here, but I wrote a little more:

Hey, idiot. You fucked up.

Eddie can kind of remember writing those words, but it’s blurry and remote, like he’s remembering a scene from a book he read years ago.

Docs say I’ll remember most stuff but not the emotions. Something like that. We never were too good at paying attention when it really matters. So this is me, telling me to listen the fuck up: DO NOT FALL IN LOVE WITH STEVE HARRINGTON AGAIN. He’s just a guy.

There’s something else written after that, but it’s scribbled out so heavily, the paper’s a little bit torn. Eddie searches his memory for what it might be, but he’s coming up blank.

Probably for the best if you stay away from him until you get a real boyfriend or something, if that ever happens. You’re just being lonely and pathetic  No. That stays in. You’re just being lonely and pathetic, so get a fucking grip. Stay away from him like he’s the plague, because he is, for you.  Also this is REALLY IMPORTANT so pay attention numbnuts: he doesn’t know you have a thing for him. HAD a thing, by the time you read this, I guess. If you don’t die on the slab. 

There’s a little doodle underneath of zombie-Eddie going “BLAH.” It’s pretty good, if Eddie does say so himself. 

Guard this secret WITH. YOUR. LIFE. Munson. If he figures it out, you might as well be dead. 

Huh. 

It goes on for a while, laying out some key facts about how Eddie got here like one of his campaign journals. It feels like getting a briefing from some super-secret headquarters on a spy mission, except his handler is also Eddie and therefore kind of a dick. 

The guy who gave him the notebook in the first place is gone by the time Eddie puts two and two together to deduce that he must be the fabled Steve. Eddie doesn’t see what’s so fucking great about him that Eddie had to get a whole actual surgery to stop mooning over him, but—he did pay for the surgery, so. Yeah. He’s probably a little different from how Eddie vaguely remembers him in high school. 

Still, it can’t be that hard to keep from falling in love with Steve Harrington again. He just has to get through the drive home, and everything can go back to normal.

palm split with a flower with a flame on AO3

Fic-specific asks

#askbox #ask games #hanahaki au #if I have time I'll write the other prompt too! #I guess underscore formatting doesn't show up even if I put it in the html? weird