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randombush3 · 13 days

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you're not sorry to go

ona batlle x reader

summary: ona and you are best friends, but it's a bit more complicated than that

words: 4.5k

notes: this one is based on true events x

also let's ignore the result of my poll because i want the next part to have smut and it wasn't fitting with the vibe of this part

oh and the title is a quote from 'this side of paradise' by f. scott fitzgerald

January, nine years ago.

Nothing about today has been out of the ordinary.

The weekend is starting, winter drags on, and Ona is all set to train later on in the evening, provided you confirm whether or not you are willing to accompany her to the local pitch.

Barcelona B usually allows for Fridays off, but Ona isn’t stupid. No one becomes the greatest footballer of all time by not playing more. School is beginning to bore Ona to death, and she knows that she wants what she always has: to go professional.

“I have a plan,” she tells you confidently, glad you don’t mind sitting on the uneven, grassy sideline as she sets up her cones with determination. You hold the ball between your hands, though Ona is amused by how foreign it looks to you, and you seem to be holding her prized possession hostage so that she spills. “It sounds simple and obvious out loud, but it’s that I am going to play for Barça while you go to the university. You can introduce me to your smart friends so I can meet my wife, and you’ll have all the boys after you anyway so–”

“Ona.” Her monologue has led her eyes to the ground, but your voice makes her head jerk upwards, not needing much authority to get her to look at you. “I’ve actually had a… realisation, of sorts,” you say with a bashful grin, chin jutting out the way it does when you are gearing up to tell her something that no one else will get to know. “Your cousin is really pretty.”

“I’ll tell her you said that.” It’s a nice thing to say, and you are partly aware that Ona’s cousin knows who you are because she doesn’t shut up about you ever, but you can’t help the frustration that begins to bubble up inside of you.

“No, Ona,” you try again, “she’s really pretty. Like, I would kiss her.”

Ona frowns, then. “Don’t be one of those.” She means the girls who experiment, who toe the line of liking girls but don’t, not really. She has been warned about them by her older teammates, the ones who go out for drinks and kiss girls in clubs. The budding footballer really admires them, because their advice is always good and she gets to explore her sexuality without feeling like a creep. No one in Vilassar de Mar cares much that Ona does like girls, but it doesn’t stop her from feeling judged all the same.

You are one of her best friends, but Ona isn’t sure she can forgive you if you become someone like that.

“I’m not! I wouldn’t do that.” Your offence is suspicious, and you have been so caught up in destroying her worries that the ball has been dropped and is now rolling towards Ona’s feet, where it is instinctively flicked upwards and caught. “I wouldn’t, Oni, because I know it’s unfair to you guys.”

“But you want to kiss my cousin? That makes you interested in girls in general too, you know.”

You bite your lip.

“Ona, I think I’m gay.”

The ball is dropped, along with her jaw, and you shift uncomfortably in your seated position, not enjoying how big of a deal she is making this out to be.

People realise that they’re gay all the time! Why should it be any different for you?

“Oh,” is all Ona can manage to breathe out, wondering what to do next. Although your friendship cracks the padlocks of most secrets, there is one that hasn’t ever been shared. One that now means substantially more than it did five minutes ago.

“Say something, please,” you groan in mock annoyance, moving aside your textbooks so that you can grab Ona’s hand and pull her down on top of you. She is much stronger – she trains every day – but something about your skin touching hers injects a surge of patheticness into her well-earned muscles, and she falls, of course she does, because she always falls for you.

…

A year passes.

You kiss Ona’s cousin, as intended, and Ona knows the breakup is going to be rough but nothing prepares her for when it comes.

She’s conflicted, and she’s older now. No longer left behind by her teammates, Ona gets to go out with them when they don’t have football; she gets to talk to the girls about their sex lives, she gets to be involved in it all. She has met Alexia Putellas and been treated like an equal, and she made out with her fourth ever girl last week, this time progressing past tongues and confidently letting her hands roam.

Ona would say that she has learnt a lot since you dropped your nuclear missile, and she has managed to forget the initial hope she had felt. The secret had been near-faded.

Until you are calling her, sending her a text when she doesn’t reach her phone quick enough.

‘Ona, I really need you.’

She hears nothing from her cousin – they were closer when they were younger – and that, she reasons, is why she is by your side in an instant, meeting you at the windy beach you go to when you are sad, hair damp from running and eyes a little wide as she tries to wake herself up.

“She said she can’t do it anymore,” you whisper, voice cracking under the strain your sobs had put on it. “She said that she really likes me but that it’s not enough, and she doesn’t want to break my heart but she knows she has to.”

Ona doesn’t get a chance to respond, because you have flung yourself into her chest before she can think of the right words to say.

Your shoulders shake as you cry, devastating howling joining the whistles of the wind and the thrash of the waves. The sand is unsteady beneath your feet and you stumble, but Ona holds you firmly, as though she has only ever trained to hold you up. Though you feel her biceps, hard and significantly larger than the last time she had held you this way, you are too caught up in your first heartbreak to acknowledge the tiny, tiny spark between you.

As you cry and cry and cry, Ona can’t help but feel a little bitter towards her cousin. Clearly, your affection wasn’t false and, though it was working towards the severance of your friendship, you actually cared quite a lot for her.

Ona chooses to abstain from her jealousy because she is embarrassed that it is possible.

She is there for you the next day, ensuring you have eaten and allowing you to sleep, but the sun soon sets and Ona vows one thing to herself: she will not take advantage of it.

“I’m going home,” you mumble when you wake from your restless nap, rolling over into the empty space in your best friend’s bed. The sheets there are cold and unused. Ona must not have moved a muscle since you fell asleep. “My parents must be a little confused, and we have people coming over for dinner. Thank you for looking after me.”

“No problem.” Ona nods and you awkwardly stand up. “I think I’m going out with the team tonight, but don’t hesitate to call me if… Well, if you feel sad again.”

“It’s going to feel shit with or without you.”

You are trying to distance her, to tell her that she can have fun. It might be an issue that your friendship only seems to work when the two of you discuss your recent conquests or latest flings, but it is not one that either of you wants to address for now.

“I’m just making sure you know I’m here,” she defends indignantly, rolling her eyes at the glimpse of your happier self making its return.

“Are you going to be drunk?” Your question is pointed and you should really cross your arms and tap your foot impatiently to match your tone. “Don’t you have training tomorrow?”

“Maybe, and not tomorrow, no. I’ve been asked to join the first team the day after so they’ve given me an alternative rest day.”

“Ona, if you get drunk, you won’t be there for me at all. You’ll have your tongue down some poor, poor girl’s throat and your phone will be dead.” You laugh from experience, having grown accustomed to how she behaves under the influence. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I swear that alcohol is what fuels your hormones. I’m not going to burden you with my fucking pathetic crying, and, well, you know me, I’ll just find a boy to talk to. I am going to be fine.”

No one in the room is convinced.

You swat the air between you two, telling her to get on with getting ready. “Now, enjoy your night, and tell me all about it tomorrow morning!”

Ona wonders if you are over-compensating by insisting to hear about whoever she has gotten off with, but you are practically flying out the door the minute you have said goodbye to her family and she is stumbling around her room trying to find a clean bra. Life goes on.

If time did not tick on its own, one of you would task yourselves with turning the hands of the clock manually.

You try to recover from how much it fucking kills to have a girl break your heart by reminding yourself of your worth in the best way possible: male attention. They hound you, but you enjoy it. You crave it, most of the time, even if the feelings are never quite believably reciprocated.

It annoys Ona to no end, the way you play with the boys chasing after you. She hates the push and pull, fed-up with the constant complaining from your end. Often, because Ona speaks her mind when she can, she tells you that it’s not fair on the ones who hand their hearts to you only to watch you pierce through them with sharp, I-was-never-a-lesbian nails.

You don’t talk about her cousin. At least, not to Ona because you have been informed by some other friend that blood is thicker than water.

Or maybe it’s because Ona begins to avoid you, begins to spend more time with her teammates, who don’t hide their sexuality and who like the things she likes. (Once, in a hateful frenzy, Ona thinks to herself that the only thing the two of you have in common nowadays is that she likes you and you like you too.)

“What happened to your best friend?” Laia Aleixandri asks thoughtfully once after training. Ona is helping her collect the water bottles the other girls had left lying around on the pitch. There have been more injuries than what’s comfortable within the first team, and maybe some of the reserves have forgotten that they are not yet professionals. “You’ve stopped talking about her.”

“We’ve fallen out,” Ona answers, settling on that because she doesn’t know how else to describe the shift in your relationship.

“Over what?” comes Laia’s obvious sequential question, more a due dalliance than genuine interest. Laia is one of those girls who plays to play and can sometimes be too busy to spend time with the team outside of training. Because of this, she is largely unaware of Ona’s growing reputation within the squad. As Ona has grown up, her confidence has increased. Girls like that, and they are in plentiful supply to her. She no longer needs to be drunk, but something almost certainly occurs if she is.

“She dated my cousin and, I don’t know, the way she acted in the fall-out was horrible. She likes girls, I know she likes girls, but I think she has been scarred and her ego has been bruised. No boy has ever made her cry like that, and I think she’s traumatised. And it’s valid! I understand, completely and totally, but she is acting as though she never had a thing with my cousin and it’s annoying. It’s as if being gay is a joke to her.”

Laia senses that Ona’s not done, and she is correct to think so.

The next wave is this: “Laia, I really don’t agree with it, and it is hurting me. It hurts to see my cousin be messed around by a straight girl, it hurts to see my best friend hate part of herself, and it hurts me because, well, it just– it just does! I can’t explain it.” She can; she doesn’t want to. Her secret is still heavily guarded and it is going to take more than Laia asking about you to get her to confess. “I just want peace for everyone involved,” she says after taking a deep, diplomatic breath.

“Peace,” Laia repeats with a giggle. “Ona, the things I have heard about you are the opposite of ‘peace’. Aita’s been keeping me in the loop, and she says that–”

“Okay, Laia, I don’t need a lecture.”

What probably would have been very helpful for Ona to know is lost to the devastating final blow of her eye-roll as she jogs to the water cooler to return the bottles and head home.

…

The reconciliation of a decade-old friendship is fast and natural. Things do not quite go back to normal, and the two of you are not as close as before, but your group of friends at school breathe out a collective sigh of relief when the ice thaws and Ona starts to turn up to their gatherings instead of the ones held by her beloved blaugranas.

It’s a camping trip.

Their first year of bach has ended, and someone – Ona doesn’t know who – has suggested a camping trip because her grandfather’s brother owns a farm and the farm has a field and the field is far-removed enough for the smell of cigarettes and red-label whiskey to dissolve before reaching the house.

“Are we really going?” Ona asks, making you all laugh as you haul your bags and tents along the tractor path.

“I do think we should’ve gotten in the tractor,” you agree. Ona nods at you, thanking you for your support.

Everyone else says it’s good fitness, and then hurls insults at Ona for the remainder of the trek because she should be the last to complain if she is going to become a professional athlete.

It’s not as far as it seems, and the tents are set up quickly, along with some chairs, a foldable table, and a hefty stash of various bottles of alcohol.

You start smoking the minute someone flashes their lighter, and Ona uses that as a reason to stay on the other side of the small campsite for a good hour or so.

She stays away from you no matter how much you stare, but you watch her all the same.

The boys you talk to are not satisfying. Some may have innocent intentions but the majority don’t, and you know that you are pretty but you are not shallow like that. You don’t even meet the boys half the time unless they corner you at school and demand a slot of your in-person attention.

The boys you talk to explain football and the gym and why they have to play FIFA until the sun rises because it will definitely help Barcelona win on the weekend. They take you for an idiot, and they hardly acknowledge that your best friend (sort of) plays for their darling club so of course you know the rules and the positions. You know that Ona is a defender, and that she is good at it. You don’t want to be patronised and you don’t care about this kind of thing unless it involves Ona.

Therein lies the issue, actually.

You don’t care about much unless it involves Ona. Ona, who sways to the music bursting out from the speakers just as stiffly as she always has, not exactly blessed with dancing talent but not for lack of trying. Ona, who declines alcohol tonight because she is following a summer strength and conditioning programme with the hopes of playing in the first team’s preseason matches. Ona, who looks beautiful. Always.

Smoke billows from your cigarette, right towards the point of your focus, and, suddenly, doe-like eyes are staring back at you with a small, small smirk. She waves, as if to say that she has caught you, and you lean back on the camping chair you are slouched in, pretending to laugh at whatever your friend has just said beside you.

Later, when everyone else is knocked out from the bad quality of the whiskey, snoring comfortably in the other tents, Ona and you kiss. And once you start kissing, you don’t stop.

Ona is good at this, you assume, because she knows exactly what to do. Contrary to popular belief, you are far more active in theory than in practice, and she surprises you a little bit. Or maybe she doesn’t, because it’s Ona and Ona is good at everything.

You strive to match her, and you do by the time you finish school.

Sporadic, non-committal, and in complete disregard for your friendship, the arrangement of hooking up when you feel like it sees you out of Catalonia, with Ona naturally in tow.

Madrid CFF is happy to have her, and you quite enjoy the challenge of the Spanish capital. It’s not Barcelona, it’s not ideal, but change is good and you need space to explore who you are without watchful eyes and nosy gossipers.

Homophobia isn’t quite a thing in your family. Your parents are not radically against gay people. In fact, you’d say they are relatively supportive. However, that doesn’t stop you from feeling some discomfort. You lived through Ona’s struggle to come out, and her parents are ever more care-free than yours.

Madrid is a brand-new place, and word about how you are doing is easily controlled. Updates come from either you or Ona, and that means there is a filter easily applied to all anecdotes.

Your friends know about the sex, more or less. They know, they don’t approve, but they let you guys sort it out yourselves because everyone agrees that that is just how you and Ona are. They won’t understand it and they have given up on trying to.

Both of you make half-hearted efforts to separate the arrangement from your friendship. You don’t talk much afterwards until the other has left the realm of I-am-in-love-with-you. It’s nice to be in Madrid together, but you find different social circles soon enough and then you are reaching out more for sex than friendly activities and… You stop sleeping with each other upon the footballer’s request. She wants to focus on her career, on her success. She tells you over the phone because she cannot bring herself to end whatever occurred over the last two years in person, knowing that she’d take back her decision in a heartbeat. Ona really, really likes football, and she knows that she has to become obsessed with it to get to the top; more obsessed than she is now. How can she do that if you are distracting her?

You’re disappointed, but you respect her wishes.

Girls in Madrid stop seeming as shiny. The world is a bit duller, because although there had been no exclusivity between you and your best friend, there had always been that guarantee that the other would be ready and waiting. Your growing misery makes studying boring, and you find answers for your emotions in a science textbook, desperately running away from the obvious truth. Less sex means that you are unhappier. It’s biology.

It’s not a crush.

Not on Ona.

No.

And it’s certainly not this not-realisation that flies you to Milan the minute a modelling agency inquires about whether you have ever thought of, well, modelling. They scout you someplace random, and your mother claims that she could have helped you start your career earlier if only you’d have been interested.

When you explain to your best friend what you are moving for, she is oddly unsurprised and uncaring. Her reaction is sickening, because you’d have rathered her get an ego boost from having slept with a model than be so fucking apathetic.

“I’m going to Milan, Ona,” you repeat, just in case she has not heard you. “I’m moving. We did the trial shoots last week, and they loved me. They want me to update my social media and work on building up a following, and they said that I should start learning English because I might end up in New York.”

“That’s good. I’m happy for you.” She doesn’t sound like she means it, and you grow annoyed about how she is not even trying to sound enthusiastic.

“Can’t you be happy for me? Or is it only acceptable for you to have dreams?”

“I am happy for you, I just said that.”

“The words left your mouth, but they definitely did not come from your heart.”

“You’re being dramatic.” Ona rolls her eyes and the pent-up sexual tension builds and builds until the bottle it has been shoved into can no longer withstand the pressure. You haven’t argued since you moved to Madrid, which makes no sense considering you literally broke up – even if it absolutely wasn’t dating. Neither of you has processed your broken heart, and you’re pretty sure you are still too traumatised from the first girl you fell in love with to be capable of revisiting those kinds of emotions.

Ona hasn’t had sex in weeks, and it is affecting her performance. She can’t sleep if she has the energy she does, and she can’t get through her workouts because not sleeping makes her lose her appetite and then she does not have the energy to complete them. Her coaches are worried, but they know that she is young and though almost idiotic, they mostly assume that she is repulsed by the idea of playing for a club in Madrid. They get that a lot with the Catalans that come over from La Masia, whose dreams have been delayed because the first team had thought it necessary that they gained more experience elsewhere.

Ona has wanted to shout and scream every minute of every day, and so have you. Therefore, everything explodes.

…

You inhale deeply, exhaling when it feels as though some of the stress has dissipated. This casting is one of the more important ones of the week. It’s odd to be judged on your appearance, to be paid for it, but it has been almost a year since you moved to Milan and you are enjoying yourself.

You don’t miss university, and you don’t miss your parents. Your friends visit you lots, loving the idea of your career, loving the excuse to escape their dreary weekends in where they have always been.

Milan is great. You make friends with a few other models, though they come and go depending on work, and the more experience you get, the more your following count goes up. Brands send you things, nice things, and events start extending invites to lure you into the glamour of the industry.

Milan is great, you tell yourself on repeat.

Milan is great, but it would be better if Ona were here.

Milan is great, but you regret the way you left things and want to take it all back.

Milan is great but–

“Your fitting is tomorrow,” says the assistant, reading off her iPad. You suppress your wandering thoughts, nodding. You need this job, you need the money to pay for a flight. The agency has given you some advancements – an impressive thing, apparently – but not enough to cover the cost of the ticket to New York for the start of Fashion Week. This show will fluff out your experience, and increase your chances of walking at one of the bigger shows.

You’ve been told that you are quite a good model; attractive, funny, with just the right amount of personality to be both a mannequin and an interesting figure.

The lifestyle is different but good, and you realise that you’d never wanted the mundanity of studying and then working and selling your soul to some kind of tall office building. Not everyone gets the concept of living away from home, especially not those from your tight-knit community who think the city is stretching the distance slightly (the train works, you can live with your parents and have a good job – you’ve been told that a few times), but you don’t mind. You can explain it as much as you want and they would still be confused.

You stay in touch, but you don’t stay present.

As your career snowballs over the next two years, you pull away from your home, always on a flight, always busy. You go to LA and Paris and London, and you rent your flat in Milan out as an Airbnb whenever you’re not there. You love the city, you start to think of it as yours, and slowly but surely, everything else fades into the background.

Apart from Ona, of course. Your friends still visit, or you meet up with them if you ever find yourself in Barcelona, and they continue to affirm just how proud they are of you. They talk about her a lot, too; about where she’s playing now, about injuries and fame and representing Spain. They know you are too stubborn to search it up for yourself, but these are the people who have grown up with you: they know you would like to be informed.

When you hear that Ona has moved to Manchester, you don’t quite think your actions through.

You have had enough. You miss her terribly.

Her number has changed, but someone passes it onto you.

You: I saw that you’re playing Arsenal next week. I’ll be in London then. Do you want to get a coffee?

Ona takes her time replying, but that is only because she wants to delay the inevitable.

Her eyes shine and her hair is damp, but the kick-off had been early and you don’t have anything to do today. You meet her in the carpark, picking her up in a black BMW that’s sleek and shiny and 100% not yours. Her laugh is light and free as she knocks on the driver’s window and juts her thumb out, instructing you to swap.

“I’m not getting in a car that you’re driving,” she declares seriously, though you know she has forgiven you because she would not have agreed to meet if she hadn’t. “Come on, I checked on Maps and there’s a place not too far from here that looks nice. And it’s empty, so don’t worry about the paparazzi.”

“The paparazzi are not after me,” you shut down quickly, not wanting her to think you are a bigger deal than what you are. Successful, yes. Famous? Not so much. “One day it’ll be you worrying about them, when you’re all grown up.”

“I’m twenty-one!”

It comes out so whiny and childish that you burst into a fit of giggles. Ona is proud to have made you laugh.

You don’t kiss her, but you’d like to. Then again, maybe it’s better to just be friends.

#woso x reader #woso #woso imagines #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle #barca femeni #randombush3 #pretend it's not all build up #but it is

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eddiezpaghetti · 3 months

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It has come to my attention that SOME OF YOU who read my last Byler post remain UNCONVINCED. So I'm gonna tack onto it this:

I'm older than fucking God and air, and I've been out and proud since 2007. Yes, I know what homophobia is, and yes, I know what queerbaiting is. I know about Supernatural and Teen Wolf and Sherlock and blahdyblahdyblah. No new ground is being covered here. I thought I made that clear in the original post, but, clearly, I did not.

I am aware of queerbaiting and homophobia, and I'm still wholeheartedly certain in Byler being canon anyway.

Okay, so there are three types of relationship I want to discuss when it comes to queerbaiting. They're all, like, "queer relationships that could have happened, but didn't".

First off, queer-coding. This isn't really a thing so much anymore, but it still crops up every once in a while. I'd argue it probably happens most with male-male relationships in family shows these days. First example that comes to mind is Mr. Smiley and Mr. Frowny from Steven Universe. You can't make a relationship canon because some shitty overhead bastard overhead said no, so you get as close as you can without compromising the show. Can't make someone gay? Well, now their comedy routine is a blatant allegory for a romantic relationship. Boom-shaka-laka. This is something I don't see being a problem with regards to Stranger Things, but I want it to be there as contrast, a demonstration of one of many things queerbaiting is not. However, one could argue that, thus far, Will Byers is, canonically, queer-coded. It's pretty fucking heavily implied in the show, and the creators have confirmed it, and you're gonna be able to see it if you're not FUCKING BLIND, but word of god is not technically canon which means that interviews don't technically make something canon, blahdyblahdyblahdyblah, technicalities, Robin has been explicitly stated in the text to be queer while Will has, thus far, not, outside of good ol' Show-Don't-Tell. Of course, anyone with two brain cells to rub together can tell that that's going to change by the end of Season 5, but, hey, for what it's worth, I'm throwing this out there.

Alrighty, Thingamajingama Number Two: "Oops, I accidentally made the greatest love story known to man." AKA, a genuine, honest-to-goodness mistake. Unfortunately, we do live in a heteronormative society. Sometimes people who don't think about being gay much write a friendship that's incredibly compelling and don't even consider the possibility that it could have been read as romantic. Something something Top Gun something. This is, again, not queerbaiting. This is Steddie, this is Ronance, this is Elmax, this is your favorite flavor of non-canon ship this week, this is not Byler. The creators know DAMN well what they're doing. They've talked about it. We know this. Nothing new here.

Which brings us to the topic of discussion here. Actual queerbaiting. This usually starts out as an "accidental greatest love story", and then reacts to fan response. And when I say "reacts", I mean like a goddamn chemical reaction. Like bleach and ammonia, bitch. It's noxious and it's gonna kick your fucking ass without mercy. This is when a creator is like, "Hey, let's get our queer audience invested, but we're not actually going to give them what they want because our straight audience isn't here for that/we personally think it's gross/we don't give enough of a shit to want to research a goddamn thing to write a real gay character," blah blah blah whatever excuse they want to come up with this time.

And when you think "queerbaiting", I want you to think "bullying". Because that's what it is. It's lucrative bullying, like beating us up and taking our lunch money, but it's bullying all the same. And it's a real goddamn thing, even if people misuse the word a lot, often when they mean one of the two above, sometimes when they mean "bury your gays", which is another homophobic thing entirely that I'm not going to get into here. Queerbaiting is the thing we're focused on, and it's real, and it's bullying. And here's the reason I want you to think of it as bullying:

They

Think

It's

Funny.

They are actively making fun of us.

That's why Dean had the "Cas, get out of my ass," line in Supernatural. It's why the "Do you like boys?" line happened in Teen Wolf. It's why "Lie with me, Watson," happened in the RDJ Sherlock Holmes movies. Because "It's just a joke, mate." "It was just a prank, bro." "You didn't really think it would happen, did you?" "You should see your face."

So here's probably the biggest reason I don't think it's specifically queerbaiting in this specific instance of Will Byers and Mike Wheeler.

Stranger Things has never, not once, made a gay joke. Ever.

Every single time queerness comes up, it's dead serious.

Lonnie calls Will a fag, and the show is not at all reluctant to show what a goddamn horrible person he is. And when Hopper latches onto that, it's not as "Hahah, is he gay, though?" It's because he's trying to determine a potential motive for Will's disappearance, and even if someone had interpreted it as a joke, Joyce immediately has a line that functions as snapping her fingers in front of the audience's face and yelling "FOCUS" when she says "He's MISSING." Basically outright saying "This isn't funny!"

Troy calls him a fairy, along with targeting Lucas and Dustin for their skin color and disability respectively, and Mike gets damn near murderous. Troy is portrayed as a goddamn monster and the show portrays it as justice when El makes him piss his pants and later breaks his arm.

Steve calls Jonathan "queer" as a slur and gets the shit beat out of him for it.

Billy's father is revealed to be homophobic and abusive in the same breath.

Mike says "It's not my fault you don't like girls!" and we're shown how devastated Will is and Mike immediately follows him to beg for forgiveness.

There is a joke in Robin's coming-out scene, but it's not at Robin's expense. It's at Steve's. Specifically for being heteronormative.

Jonathan has multiple scenes where he's trying so hard to tell Will that he's always going to love him as he is, whether he's gay or not, without pressuring him to come out before he's ready.

Even when there's a little bit of ribbing at Robin's expense, it's always because she's an awkward nerd who's nervous around pretty girls, just the same as Lucas and Dustin are teased when they both first develop crushes on Max, and even then, even then, it always comes as a package deal where they make fun of Steve's girl problems at the same time.

Stranger Things is an emphatically pro-gay show. It may not be the core point of the show the way it is in, say, Our Flag Means Death, but there is nothing less than respect for its queer characters. Its queer characters are always taken completely seriously. No one is making fun of us. They never have. That's why I have serious doubts that this is queerbaiting. It would come completely out of left field for the bullying to start in Stranger Things' final season.

So it's not at all likely to be queerbaiting because queerness is taken completely seriously. The creators have talked about Will's queerness, at least, so it's not an accident. And queer-coding would be silly to expect from this show when it's already on its final season. Like, what is Netflix gonna do? Cancel it? Not to mention all the explicit queerness that's in there already. And no one's gonna "What about the children?" a show that's had sex scenes in it since the first season.

There's no fakeout here. It's gonna happen. Breathe.

#byler #Part 2 I fucking guess.#Wasn't planning on making a Part 2 but here we are.#I seriously just want you guys to feel safe.#I'm not naive. I do not say any of this shit lightly.#But I've been around the block long enough to know what queerbaiting looks like and this ain't it. Promise.#Will's already been confirmed as in love with Mike for fuck's sake. You don't think the other half of the equation's gonna follow through?#There has only ever been one other situation where I've gone 'Okay this is going in gay places' with no doubt whatsoever without being told #And that was with Daja in Tamora Pierce's 'Will of the Empress' when I read it at like sixteen or whatever #and she wound up having whole-ass fuckin' gay sex.#I was right then and I'm right now. I swear.

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meanbossart · 3 months

Note

I appreciate how you write Astarion so, SO much. I feel like way too many fic writers infantilize him to a point where I honestly start wondering if I'm the one who misinterpreted him so badly.

I'd love to know more about what you think of his character and his arc. Personally I saw him and immediately went "oh god this guy is gonna be the irritating tumblr sexyman of the year🙄" and it took me until Araj basically to warm up to him. What were your initial thoughts and did they change much while playing the game?

OH thank you so much!!! That's a shame if it's the case, and a little surprising to me, to be honest! While he's definitely written be an aloof jerk a lot of the time, I always found him to be surprisingly mature and introspective whenever he's not dishing out witty remarks. He comes off to me as the kind of person who learned to benefit from seeming dumber than he actually is, overall.

HAHA I had a VERY similar experience, not just towards Astarion but all the characters, really (I really disliked Shadowheart at the beginning, too). I had only seen pictures of him and pretty much expected a vapid character that was being carried to stardom because of a talented VA - and because people go nuts for anne rice style vampires lol.

While I was definitely enjoying his voice lines from the start (Again kudos to Neil) I definitely wasn't expecting much else. He piqued my interest after so devastatingly turning my character down at the tiefling party without me even having inquired, and that's when I, the gamer, was like "well, alright, I GOTTA fuck this guy now" (this is also where DU drow's personality began to come out as you can probably guess)

Obviously, if you have two neurons to rub together you can gather pretty quickly that he's not trying to woo you because you're so interesting and wonderful, so I started getting curious! With that dynamic being so different from what you usually expect of romances in these types of games, plus the charming way in which he is written, I started being won over.

I think what really did it was how gradually his attitude changed when responding to new, mostly trivial dialogue options and doing his greetings as you earned his trust, and ESPECIALLY with how he responds to your tav when you express any kind of fear or insecurity during his romance - which was with a lot of sincerity and confidence in his resolve to support you, and in you as a person, a complete 180 from his usual front - Which, again, makes me all the more surprised to hear that he's often painted with such an immature brush.

And obviously he has a DEEPLY ugly side to him (if you've read ANE, hopefully it's clear that I know this, and that I like to explore it just as much as anything else lmao) but it's very interesting to me how it seem to always come in the form of outbursts, rather than a constant evil-streak, usually followed by a glimpse of self-awareness. It feels very much in line with someone who's actually making a great deal of effort to manage their RAMPANT emotions and going through a lot of internal conflict in the process.

GAH. Yeah if you can't tell by this friggin' thesis I just wrote, I love the way they wrote this character a lot and I was definitely proven PROFOUNDLY wrong in my first impression of him - which, if that's not irony at it's finest I don't know what is.

And as an aside! I also very much appreciate that he's a "queer" coded character who's effeminate (in the Old Homo kind of way, but I digress) and flamboyant, but taken Dead Fucking Seriously. With as much progress as we've made in LGBT rep in media, I still often feel like gay men will only get that kind of treatment for as long as they "Aren't That Gay" (I know Astarion doesn't have a set sexuality - But lets not mince words: stereotypes exist, and he fits into most of them) and as a thin-wristed gay guy who's a little too found of linen shirts, I can honestly say that experiencing a character like that helped me with my own confidence.

#ask #astarion #bg3 spoilers

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kodamaghost00 · 1 month

Text

30 Lucifer Headcanons

———————————————————

[Disclaimer!!]

This post will contain: NSFW,Sfw, Fluff, Smut

It's also Genderless for the girls,gays and theys!You're a new resident at the Hotel in this scenario.

———————————————————

Let’s begin!

Calls his partner “Angel” or “Love”. But will come up with outrageous names to annoy you too.

Makes his loved ones custom ducks. And he gets really nervous showing you the finished product.

“So uhhh… I made this one for you.” He said quite nervously as he gave you your duck. “Oh it’s lovely Lucifer… thank you so much.”.

He looked at you flabbergasted “Wait really?! You like it…?”. You just chuckled “Of course I do!”

You were there for him when Lilith left him. He was so down but you cheered him up.

When Lucifer and Alastor had their little sing session he was so happy that you sided with him and not that red deer guy.

He thinks it’s adorable that you get along with Charlie. He loves the way you care about her, and believe in her dreams.

Besides his “calm” personality he gets quite protective over time. When he notices you get hurt by something/someone he is immediately there you care for you.

He makes unhinged comments and jokes without even noticing that they’re out of place sometimes.

Ever since angel called him a “Short king” the term has stuck with him. He casually calls himself that as well.

He tries to learn more slang from the other residents and tries them out on you… “You serve *snaps fingers*… the outfit slaps ngl.” You just laughed your ass off due to his stiff voice and lack of feeling.

He enjoys basin and cooking a lot. He prefers to have you as a helper.

He’s a ambivert who’s pretty good at masking. Not many people notice when he’s exhausted.

Definitely a hopeless romantic. He WILL take you on a date with roses and jazz in the background. And if everything goes well he maybe even take you to his place?

He likes to get dominated but he also loves to dominate. Whatever you’re up to actually, he’ll just go along with it.

Groans overall but whimpers and whines when he’s close.

When you ride on top of him he digs his fingers into your sides and it gets firmer and stronger as he finishes.

He is definitely very weak in the way that he can’t hold in for long. You do one right move and he’s cumming fast.

He also enjoys bondage very much. He’d fuck you while you hand from the roof with a gag in your mouth. In combo with a blindfold? Seeing you drool? He finishes faster than you can say “Bow chika bow bow.”

GREAT IN AFTERCARE!!! He will spoil you with sweet words and cuddles. “You did so great love… thank you.”

He bathed with his rubber duck. His favorite is probably an apple themed one.

He also wears a little make-up. Like going out without a little eyeliner? Nuh uh.

He made his cane himself. The apple on top is exchangeable with a Rubber duck, skull and a snake. He’s making new ones as well.

He is already autistic coded with a special interest in ducks. But imagine he invented them. Like imagine he said ”Hey God… I have this little idea, do you think you can make it work?”

He gets nervous if you two make eye contact for too long. He’d laugh it off though saying it’s no big deal for him.

So so done with life sometimes he just drinks 3 black coffees in the span of 3 hours.

He easily gets distracted by literally anything and everything. Also procrastinates a lot.

He loves hugs from the back. And hugs in general make him feel so loved by you.

His love languages are Physical Touch and Acts of Service. You making him breakfast and cuddles afterwards? He’s straight up in love.

“You made this all for me love…? Wow that’s so amazing thank you so so much…” he gets stressed easily so seeing how much you care for him makes him tear up.

———————————————————

Thank you all so much for reading my silly headcanons [And also 20 followers]! I wanted to say “Loves Eskimo kisses” but I remembered he doesn’t rlly have a nose (πーπ). But yeah anyways… if you have requests don’t be shy and ask! I’d be happy to work on requests! Have a great day/night!

- Your Ghost ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ

#lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer magne #lucifer x reader #lucifer headcanons #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin headcanons #hazbin hotel #headcanon #lucifer my beloved #Lucifer Morningstar headcanons

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hp-hcs · 2 months

Note

Can maybe request some slytherin boys with gay awakeing trope? Maybe headcanons or shorts

gay awakening headcanons — mlm! slytherin boys x male! reader

hella short cause of some ✨personal stuff✨ going on, but i just wanted to get something out 🤷‍♂️

me? blame my shitty writing skills on my current health problems? what no never

❕not proofread❕

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

mattheo

immediately has a mental breakdown

identity crisis anyone?

i feel like he would have that panicky gay moment where he realizes that his friend is actually his More Than Friend, ykwim?

like, you just do something innocuous like sling your arm over his shoulders while walking to class and babyboy just FREEZES

the second that happens, he immediately drops out of your life while he freaks out gets his shit together

like, homeboy just deadass vanishes

doesn’t show up to any of his classes

doesn't show up to quidditch practice (draco threatens to kill him for that, cousin or not)

meanwhile you’re just there like 🧍 “what did i do?”

because my lil darlin mattheo cannot healthily express any emotion ever, he would “solve” his problem by just like, purposefully running into you in the halls and kissing your cheek, then just full-on 🏃💨 SPRINTING 🏃💨 away without a word

theo

also has an identity crisis, he’s just better at hiding it

gotta save face, amirite?

but anyways-

you weren’t even doing anything out of the ordinary, you were just hanging out with him in his room and ended up lighting his cigarette for him

that’s it. homeboy is already whipped for ya.

like, straight up simp.

i feel like theo’s a “i’m definitely going to have a panic attack over this at two in the morning, but for now i’m just going to not think and enjoy 😌💅” kind of mentality

just flat out says it

“you know, you look really hot today.”

y/n: 😳😏………..💏💋😘

draco

have you ever had a friend that was so clearly Not Straight but they just kept denying it for years before finally coming out?

well that’s draco <3

you were at a party and agreed to join some kind of kissing game

like, spin the bottle, seven minutes in heaven, post office…

(does anybody actually still play post office?)

and obviously, you both end up having to kiss each other duh

homeboy is not doing well

but not in a “what?? i don’t know what’s going on!!” kind of way

in a “ah shit my friends were right every time they called me gay, fuck” kind of way <3

immediately start dating after the party and everyone’s like 🤨👀

blaise

i feel like blaise already knew/suspected, but just didn’t have the vocabulary to describe his sexuality, ykwim?

i’m getting pansexual vibes frfr

could not give less of a fuck

is just like “shit alright, d'you wanna make out then?”

i mean……..it’s not like you’re gonna say no

this man. tHIS MAN. he’d be such a gentleman omfg

also i’m not gonna say sugar daddy but sugar daddy

would absolutely buy you anything you even looked at. you looked at a ten thousand galleon wristwatch in a luxury store? it’ll be on your bed waiting for you by the time you get home

if anyone was homophobic or wtv, he wouldn’t beat them up per se, but he would do something unnecessarily extra, like wear a dress and makeup just to be like “wdym? we’re a straight couple, obviously”

(he would tell his friends about the homophobe though, and they wouldn’t be quite as composed and respectful as him 👊😠🩸😵😵‍💫)

enzo

this man seriously does not care

like, he’s just like “oh i’m queer? hahah that’s crazy”

this man has no qualms about asking you out in the middle of class in front of everyone

like, in the middle of potions or smth he’d just be like “y/n, wanna go get dinner sometime?”

and you’re like “…aren’t you straight?” 🧍

enzo: “who knows? not me! does saturday at eight work?”

he’s so silly goofy i just love him sm

this boy would be a hella fine kisser, i just know it

WOULD ASK YOU TO THE YULE BALL 🕺🕺

AND WOULD GET YOU GUYS MATCHING BOUTONNIÈRES 💐

regulus

“ah shit i owe the boys twenty galleons, fuck”

resigned, more than anything

he can’t even come out, either cause like, what would that even be?

“guys, i have to tell you something……i’m gay”

“yep. what do you have to tell us??”

you asked him out cause you thought he was gay

and he was just like 😳🤨🤷‍♂️🙂👍

you guys went to fortescue’s!!! 🍦🍨🍧

(he’s def a mint chocolate chip kind of guy i’m just saying)

y’all end up being like, the it couple at hogwarts i don’t make the rules

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moti-otp · 1 month

Note

You asked for recap, I'll try to give you the shortest version I could come up with

First egg day

Not much, but gives signs of potential. 100% platonic, met literally yesterday

Tho can be the great example for how much their relationship has changed. Gay jokes, "come to the bed, partner", first pet names (still just jokes), but immediately clicked with each other and assured eachother in loyalty

Missa's first return (June~July)

Giving signs from Missa's side. Finding out that there's somebody that is after Phil and feeling jealous, tho understanding why ("ye, he's a kind of a man, you know?" - to Chayanne), admitting Phil as the only person who protecting and helping him from a heart. Probably this's the start of Missa's crush

The Four Months™

Phil used to be really patient person, he always been ready to wait for people as long as needed. But at one moment, he started missing Missa, he started yearning for Missa

Rambling about how everyone is okay with being a single parent and how Missa is never there, actually giving up on him and taking off the armour he made for Missa months ago, getting jealous over Guapoduo (only romantic, married and really affectionate couple on the server at the moment), whimpering over the random skull he found in the dungeon and even collecting every single skull he found in one of the dungeons for no reason

Missa's return

Everything is back to normal! But something definitely changed...

Phil and Missa were really affectionate from the start, Phil always was protective over Missa and tried to help him and Missa always was a bit shy around Phil and flustered by his help

But this time it's all stronger

For the whole journey to find new members (the frozen ones) they haven't left each other's side, even walked off from everyone else just to be alone together.

And this time Phil was even more protective of Missa. Usually the very paranoid man, who was scared of a single little light in the darkness started noticing only those mobs that were attacking Missa, who couldn't not to look at him or leave alone for even a moment, just to check if he was safe. And for a long time everyone saw Phil actually relaxed after so many months of paranoia and fear. Something started changing

And Missa, he was even more shy around Phil, tried not to say a wrong word or anything that could disappoint him, was apologising for everything he ever could do wrong. And something new started happening with him. Flirting. But not just jokes, more of an admiring thoughts that accidentally were slipping out of Missa's mouth without him wanting it. And first time when Missa started rambling™ so Phil couldn't understand him and first time when he actually confessed by saying "te amo"

And then matching backpacks, Missa being very normal with wanting to put Phil's head on his backpack and other members noticing something between them

Missa trying to run away from Chayanne, but confessing something important

Skipping the whole looney tunes episode with the deep trauma under it and getting to the most interesting part

Tallulah and Chayanne telling Missa that Phil was talking about him a lot and Roier, seeing Missa's reaction asking him if he likes Philza (in "te gusta" way) and Missa saying that he's very handsome, but he wouldn't tell him about that because he wants to respect him (plus being afraid of losing him and that they have now)

And then writing a sign with confession that he LOVES Philza (and Tallulah noticing it, but pretends that she hadn't seen anything)

The Mexican independence day

(Oh god, oh boy, i have a lot to say)

The Missa's return was Missa's simping day, well, now it's Phil's turn

Phil was trying not to leave Missa for the whole day, keep him around, but not to interrupt when he was talking with him friends or wanted to go somewhere with them, even if he wanted to spend time with Missa. Only with Missa.

Sneaking photos, [Missa yelling "te amo" in front of everyone to him], trying to drag out of the crowd by lassoing (same that did Roier with Cellbit and Fit with Pac), focusing in the dance only on him, gazing at him in the Order, proposing to leave if he felt overwhelmed, trying to keep next to him in the dungeon, [Missa calling Phil handsome], wanting to stay only with Missa when everyone was going to the Hot Girls' beach, [Missa wanting to go on a date with Phil], gazing at Missa when going to the said beach with a goofy smile, [Missa confessing that Phil makes him nervous], Phil noticing Missa's confession but not saying anything just giggling, [Missa wanting to hug Phil as his last thing he wants to do before he dies (he was okay)]

And then the "see you soon" without seeing eachother after that

Missa's capybara journey

Missa returning without knowing if his son and (not fully back then) daughter were okay, if Phil was okay and feeling guilty about everything he missed. Meeting with Luismi and going to the Capybara village with them

And then- calling himself a parasite, that he doesn't deserve his family, calling Phil "the person of a justice, the best islander on the whole island", capybaras getting Missa to return home and write a sign for Phil

[Few days after Phil finding that sign and trying to find if Missa left anything else for him and getting sad when he realises that he didn't]

The Aquarium(I'm getting really sleepy, help)

Bad meeting Missa at one of the days and starting to gaslight him that he has no home, that nobody cares about him

So he requests to live under Phil's basement in the aquarium that built without Phil's agreement

Missa, again, isolating himself and thinking that he's not enough for his family and that he doesn't deserve to be anywhere near Phil

The Purgatory

The good start with separating middle and awesome end

Everything starting with Phil, after noticing that Missa is on, immediately started to perch everywhere and trying to find Missa. Looking around everytime he heard the noise of waystone

And then, after finally finding him on the ground with everyone else. He first wanted to just glide down, but decided to do water drop (to show off in front of Missa). Then Missa started acting surprisingly clingy and bold- asking Phil to hug him, staring at his chest when he was shaking it for fun (actually was checking if he was alive, but from Phil's side it looked like he was looking at boobs)

And then they got separated

It wasn't much for Missa because he more was thinking about how he will help his team, but Phil was DEVASTATED. The little "noooooo" in despair when finding that Missa is in another team, sadly waving when Missa was standing with his back turned to him, and giving last little glances to Missa (maybe considering if he can go to Missa's team for him) before living

And then Missa, on his own, with only violence around him, realises that he needs Philza. He doesn't just loves how he looks and acts with him, he NEEDS him. He needs his comfort, his power, his protection. And he decides to leave Purgatory just so he wouldn't have a chance to hurt Phil even if his team will win

Meanwhile, somewhere on a dusty floor of a museum crying and sobbing Phil, crawling into a drawing of Soulfire with Missa on it, sadly cooing and totally not needing him as much as he needs him

The Prison

KISS. Missa realises that not only he needs Phil and his family, but that they also need him. KISS ON A LIPS. Phil, again, feeling fully relaxed after long time just with Missa, even sometimes forgetting that they should escape. PHIL ASKED MISSA TO KISS HIM ON A LIPS. And Tallulah finally officially becoming Missa's daughter. THE PISSA KISS HOLY FUCK EVEN CROWS DON'T THINK IT'S PLATONIC ANYMORE

The new start

Missa returning home once again. But everything is new, it's time to start with the white list. But this time he's sure in his feelings and wants to be with his family, wants to protect them and love Phil even if he won't get that back

Meanwhile Phil getting even more possesive over Missa with wanting to kill the villager just because he was sleeping on Missa's bed. He's very normal over his husband, yap

Missa made it canon that he's immortal just like Phil. Giving him even more pet names like "The immortal", "the man of my dreams"(heard that he called him a term that used by boyfriends about their girlfriends) and saying "I hope we'll see eachother soon, handsome" before logging out

Other notes (finally done for now

(FINALLY IT'S OVER AAA, IT TOOK ME AN HOUR, MAYBE MORE)

- Missa also called Phil "daddy" when saw an art of him on a Purgatory loading screen

- Phil, looking at the art of Fooligetta and Leo said: "the family, all together, yaaaay" in the most jealous tone ever

- Phil, looking at art of Guapoduo (again) with fucked up Cellbit said: "Cellbit is a little but fucked up, but Roier will help him, right? Roier will save him". And with what tone he was saying that he was hoping that somebody would come to him and save him too

- when Phil found Missa's "house" in aquarium he was saying "he doesn't- he thinks- he thinks I don't- he thinks he doesn't deserve me"

- in Prison Missa said that apapacho(hug) is that he does to Phil when he doesn't look

- there's like 7 times Phil was gazing at Missa from the side while he was talking with his friends or just was by himself, Phil really likes to look at him

- Fit actually thinks those two are romantic couple because he said "it's none if my business that other couples do" when found Missa's aquarium house (refering to him and Pac even before they got together)

- Cellbit told Missa that Phil is in love with him, but just scared if his feelings and can't accept them yet, but "he sees something really strong here" (quote)

- Chayanne had a backpack called "Phissa"

- Dapper called them lovebirds and promised to protect Missa from anyone if they want to get between him and Phil

- qPhil probably thinks that "platonic" just means "no sex" (he was answering to Cellbit's question about what platonic husbands mean ages ago and Phil couldn't answer normally, but Foolish yelled "no sex" and Phil said "ye, kinda like that")

It's finally finished yippee, hope it'll give you some recap and image on how insane we are here about these two

Words can´t express how I´m feeling rn, the happiness in my body is boiling and i'll explode in million pieces, thanks for this amazing food I'll always be grateful for this awesome work. It took you time to write everything here, Thank you. You're a legend. A great warrior o7

My respects for you comrade

#pissa #qsmp pissa #this is awesome #I adore you now

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thefatedthoughtofyou · 10 months

Text

Saw this meme and iiiiii did a thing... a steddie thing... obviously

( Eddie has a small dick in this if you don't like it don't read it. We support small dick supremacy in this house thank you for your time. 😊 )

😅😅😅

I'm picturing them at a bar. I wanna say maybe Steve is the bar tender, and he's been seeing Eddie around. He comes in. Talks a little, he's kinda quiet. Like he's stuck in his head, like he comes there to think. He's always scribbling things on napkins. Steve thinks they might be song lyrics, the way Eddie hums and taps his fingers as he writes.

But Steve obviously sees him looking at him sometimes. It's a gay bar, it happens, but Eddie doesn't leer at him, or chat him up in that way. It's always just friendly conversation.

Steve kind of loves it. Loves being able to just chat and not worry about getting stalked out to his car by a creep. And then one day some drunk dude is hitting on Eddie HARD. Leaning into him and grabbing at his arm and just when Steve is about to say something the guy actually says the words,

"how big is that dick?" Like... in real life. Out loud. And grabs for Eddie's thigh, and Steve watches Eddie catch his wrist, easy, watches him shove the guys hand back at him, saying,

"small. Leave me alone." Without even looking at him. And Steve fucking barks a laugh because that was... fucking hilarious. But also... kinda hot. Like, he's known he likes Eddie for awhile but seeing someone come on to him had sealed the deal, jealousy crawling over his skin, but then seeing Eddie shut it down, in the funniest fucking way Steve had ever seen, had just slammed it into place.

The guy scowls, says something rude, and stalks off. But Eddie is looking at Steve cuz he's still chuckling. Doing that cough thing like he's trying to cover it up but the laugh is still extremely prominent through the coughing. And Eddie watches him with raised eyebrows cuz like... damn okay. Cute bar tender thinks he's funny. And Steve is like,

"Sorry man. That was just, fuckin hilarious. Not the guy grabbing you, obviously, just, how you delt with it. Like that was... the best thing I've seen in awhile. Just... just sayin." He shakes his head to stop himself rambling more, he needs more friends to hangout with besides Robin, she's rubbing off on him. So he just reaches into the cooler and grabs Eddie his usual beer, slides it over the bartop to him, tells him it's on the house.

"Thanks." Is all Eddie says, but he looks happy, small smile still on his face.

And when the bar's closing, and Eddie is still there, just idly talking to Steve all night. Steve takes a chance. Says some cheesey line about letting Eddie walk him home. And Eddie flushes red to his ears but nods, takes the last sip of his beer and helps Steve flip the chairs onto the tables so he can do a quick sweep. Steve's locking the door when he hears Eddie clear his throat awkwardly, like he wants to say something. Steve looks at him, waits.

"I uh... look I know you thought I was being funny... earlier." Eddie scratches his head, nods into the bar. Steve nods, lets him continue.

"But I uh- I was also being serious?" He grimaces, eyes on the ground.

"So if that's like... a deal breaker? That's- that's totally okay. I just uh... I dont know. Thought I should maybe warn you before- before anything...happens?" His eyes widen and he takes a step back.

"Not that anything was gonna happen! Like I wasn't expecting... THAT. I just... oh my god I don't know. People can be assholes about small dicks so I just wanted to be up-front about it in case you thought I was kidding when I told that guy that. Cuz I was being serious and I'm gonna stop talking. Jesus christ." He breathes the last part, shaking his head at himself, his face twisted in what looks like pain. Steve thinks he's fucking adorable.

He steps closer, puts his hands on Eddie's hips and pushes him gently against the brickwall of the bar. Rests his head against Eddie's as he laughs a little, Steve's fingers pressing into his hips tickling a bit.

"I don't care. Honestly I uh..." he pauses, pulls back to look at Eddie, his eyes are wide, his cheeks are a deep pink now.

"I was kinda hopin you weren't kidding." Steve tilts his head, smirks at Eddie, just a little. A light smirk. Not the full thing, doesn't wanna overwhelme him. Yet. Eddie sucks in air, blinks at him.

"Oh. Yeah?" He asks, his voice breathy, pitched higher than usual. Steve nods, sinks his teeth into his lip, and brushes his nose against Eddie's.

"Yeah. Still wanna walk me home?" Steve asks, staying close. Eddie nods, his hands moving to Steve's shoulders.

"Yeah. Yes absolutely. I'd love that. I'd love too." He rambles, swallowing hard.

And Steve can't help himself anymore, ducks forward and presses a soft kiss to his lips. Eddie makes a little sound in his throat and Steve fucking adores it. Already in so deep for this guy. But it's been months. Eddie's not a new thing in his life. Just, this part of it is new.

Eddie blinks at him when he pulls back, steps away from Eddie but holds out his hand. Eddie smiles, reaches out and takes it, lets Steve drag him away from the wall and down the sidewalk. Their fingers laced together, hands swaying between them as they walk through the dark.

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #eddie munson has a small dick #and steve fucking loves it i cant hear you over their love #my writing #mine #Fates Endless Inkwell #fei #steddie blurb #steddie ficlet

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kzuhasgf · 9 months

Text

encounters

pairing — jang wonyoung x itzy!reader

after meeting wonyoung at a cafe, you just happen to come across her everywhere. you both decide to befriend each other. (at least, that's what's supposed to happen)

tags — f!reader (ethnicity friendly), idol!au genre — pure fluff, romance word count — 2,420

notes — reader is ’03 (born in august), is the same height as wony, not proofread, this photo is so 🔛🔝, I'm gay

after two long months of promotions, you and the other girls of ITZY could finally rest. you were looking forward to relaxing for a while because you've needed it for a long time, but you were disappointed to learn you'd only have a week off due to your solo schedule.

you were already halfway into your week, much to your dismay. your company has recently overworked you and the girls, and knowing that you only have so much time for yourself, you decided to stay put at home.

that is until yuna forcibly brought you out of your room.

"yah, what do you want?"

"don't be so cold! I need you to come with me." yuna grinned.

"what is it…" you grumbled.

yuna often clung to you and talked about different things since you were both part of the maknae line and were born the same year as her. you both acted more like siblings than anything, always arguing but not having the heart to hate each other.

you both had your differences, and times like this highlighted them.

unfortunately for you, she dragged you to yeji and chaeryong's room, where you were forced to face the fierce eyes of your leader. your eyes widened, and you looked at yuna, already fearing for the worst.

"you actually got her out of her room?" yeji raised her brow and crossed her arms.

"yep, I know. no need to mention it. so does that mean I can go now?!"

"you need to ask her permission first." she pointed at you.

"what permission?" you looked between them in confusion.

"so you didn't even tell her yet?! shin yuna." yeji sighed and closed her eyes.

"okay, so yuna here agreed to meet up with an yujin tomorrow afternoon at a cafe, which is fine with me, but, the problem is, she has no one to accompany her."

"lia and I will be at the grocery store with our manager, ryu and chaery will have a dancing session, and you will be at home. I told her she is not allowed to go without supervision.""

"but that's just no fun, unnie! I have our driver! why can't I bring our bodyguard?" yuna whined.

"our driver is just there to drive you. and you're not supposed to be obvious! isn't this all private?" your leader said with slight frustration.

"you're right... but that's why y/n's here! you'll come with me, right n/n?" she asked, pouting and looking at you with puppy eyes.

talk about the devil. "so that's why you brought me here?" you groaned with faux annoyance.

"do I even have a say in this??"

"maybe…"

"no, you don't. you have to go, or else our maknae might keep on whining." yeji babied her and squished her cheeks.

you facepalmed. "oh my god. you guys planned this to get me out of the house, didn't you?

a few more bickerings later, you agreed. after all, she was your best friend. you didn't have much of a choice. you couldn't really say no to her. and who in itzy could resist that face?

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you and yuna walked into a cozy cafe and kept your heads low so you couldn't be recognized. you both went to a more private area, where yujin, the puppy leader of IVE, perked up and waved you two over.

yuna squealed with excitement when she stood up, embracing yujin and swaying her around.

you bowed and removed your mask, smiling at her until you noticed she was standing next to someone you didn't know.

I thought it was just yujin with us?

the girl, who appeared to be lost in thought, made yujin tap her shoulder, causing her to exclaim in surprise and stand up to bow back at you and yuna.

your jaw almost dropped in shock.

you took it back. you had no way of not knowing who was greeting you right now. she's the talk of, well, everywhere, and anyone would know her. there are posters and billboards of her all over town,

in front of you was the jang wonyoung.

the it girl of the fourth generation, and the girl everyone adores and envies.

"y/n, right? I heard you were also born in 2003. we should make an ’03 line group chat together!"

"oh, also, this is my bandmate, wonyoung. you've probably heard of her."

"it's nice to meet you." She took off her mask and sat down, smiling at you.

"it's also a pleasure to meet you, wonyoung."

you sat next to yuna and in front of wonyoung. no one noticed, but you were dazed by the beauty who is wonyoung. you couldn't focus when yujin spoke to you, her saying something about "feeling comfortable" and that she and yuna would just be catching up on things, and you smiling in response, trying to act normal.

the leader nodded to the girl next to her, and the younger girl nods back in acknowledgment.

minutes pass, and you can't help but stare. you tried not to be obvious, scrolling on your phone while the other two talked about whatever they were talking about. you weren't paying attention. instead, you were focused on her. if yuna ever noticed your predicament, she would definitely tease you later.

wonyoung put down her phone, tucked her hands beneath her chin, and leaned toward you, interrupting your train of thought.

"hi, y/n. do you want to talk with me? to pass the time."

you lifted your head and fiddled with your fingers beneath the table. you notice yuna smirking at you from the corner of your eye before turning back to yujin.

you ignored her and smiled at wonyoung.

"sure, wonyoung. I think we'll be here for quite some time." you barely glanced at the other two conversing, off in their own world, before returning your attention to the girl—

who you openly declared was much more beautiful in person than in photos.

she giggled sweetly.

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for your solo schedule, you had to attend a collaborative event consisting of different brands, where they would showcase their newest items and products. you were an ambassador for one of them, so you had no choice but to leave.

it was good for publicity, they said.

you found it bearable cause you were alongside other k-pop idols, so you wouldn't have to watch the showcase in distress and could instead make conversations or meet acquaintances.

another good thing about events like this was that there was always food. good food.

after posing for photos, waving to your fans, and being interviewed, you entered the venue and went to the food section, where you saw familiar and unfamiliar faces.

you also saw a bunch of random influencers who were ecstatic to see all of the celebrities with whom they could interact.

on an entirely different note, you were satisfied with the amount of servings they had. you couldn't eat much of the snacks presented though, since your management team put you on a diet.

while walking around, you saw various designer items on display, and you grimaced because they were more expensive than the previous sets they released. the prices only continue to rise.

when you came across the sponsored products, such as makeup, skincare, and so on, you noticed a crowd forming, and your curiosity got the best of you, so you came closer only to hear such loud commotion.

you stood on the sidelines and your eyes widened when you saw wonyoung, an ambassador for multiple featured brands such as innisfree, miumiu, and kirsh, standing there, looking as elegant as ever.

you never expected to see her again, but you still happen to come across her here.

"wonyoung-ah, can I get a picture with you!"

"wonyoung, look here!"

"wonyoung, can I get your autograph?!"

you couldn't show it, but hearing this almost made you frown. as an idol, you knew the troubles of constantly being in public, always under the watchful eye of society and netizens, and you couldn't bear how this girl felt about being bombarded every second, left and right for every reason. you wanted to feel sympathy for her.

"step aside, everyone! someone's coming!"

when a booming voice caught everyone's attention, wonyoung breathed a sigh of relief and managed to slip away from the group of fans.

she didn't realize you were watching the entire thing unfold, and you were still in a dilemma, so she accidentally ran into you.

"oh, y/n! I'm so sorry. I didn't see you there."

"wonyoung, hey! how are you doing?"

"I'm doing great. fancy seeing you here, I wasn't expecting you."

"well, I'm here now." you chuckled.

"you look... gorgeous, by the way," you added, your eyes roaming her lovely dress.

"o-oh. thank you, thank you. I appreciate it, so much." you didn't know it but wonyoung cursed at herself for stuttering.

"so, where are you planning to go?" she asked, hoping to cover her slip-up.

"I'm planning to get a drink and lounge around. would you like to come with me?"

her heart beat faster and her jaw slightly slackened at the idea of getting a drink with you. she welcomed the feeling of being friends with you after that meetup at the cafe, but she never knew how to contact you, since she forgot to ask for your number.

"we can hang out after, like, you know, ignore these showcases if you want."

...if she knew her cheeks would heat up so much, she wouldn't have put on any blush.

"am I... am I reading this right?" she asked timidly.

you smiled and nodded at her. "yes, yes you are." you extended your hand, giving her the option of holding it or not.

"okay... okay then. sure. let's go get a drink together, y/n." she smiled confidently and took your hand, linking your arm with hers.

you both exchanged numbers before the event ended, her with a bashful smile on her face.

"I had a great time, y/n. call me." she winked.

that night, "wonyoung and y/n" trended on twitter.

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you were in line at a bakery, getting pastries and desserts for your members. you just finished your day's activities, which included going to the studio to write some songs and filling in as a temporary MC for one of the music shows.

exhausted from your solo schedule, you wanted to get home so you could collapse face down on your fluffy bed. it was almost sunset, so dinner would be served in a few hours. you didn't want to arrive late because you didn't want to hear another scold from your cat leader.

walking out of the bakery with a plastic bag of your goods in hand, you chose a pastry you wanted to try, intending to eat it on your way to your dorm. you took a bite after unwrapping it and looked around at the scenery.

you walked down the street, peering into the shops you passed, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw a large poster of wonyoung modeling for fashion.

I see her everywhere, huh?

you smiled as you remembered the conversations you'd had with her over the past month. when you and wonyoung had free time, you would text each other.

you didn't realize it, but you spoke your thoughts aloud while looking at the poster and were startled to hear a voice beside you.

"y/n?"

you would know that voice anywhere.

"oh, my god wonyoung! you scared me." you put your hand on your chest.

she giggled and covered her mouth, apologizing.

"you know, I'm starting to think you're stalking me," you jokingly stated.

"oh? and what makes you think that?" she asked, her gaze playful.

every interaction you have with her simply replenishes your energy.

"let's not forget that I caught you staring at my banner…" she walked closer to you and said it quietly enough to make your breath hitch.

"speechless now?"

"I..."

"I thought so."

you shook your head in slight disbelief as you looked at the woman in front of you. the amount of power she has.

"what brings you here, wonyoung?"

"I was going to buy something at my favorite bakery. I see you just bought from there." she pointed to the bag you were carrying.

"I didn't know you liked cherry. I like that flavor, too. besides that, I'll get going now." she began to walk away, and before you could think, you turned around and called her.

"wait, wait!"

you ran up to her, trying to catch up, but she continued on her confident strides.

"wony, do you want to go on a date with me!"

she came to a halt, her eyes widening in surprise.

she turned around, grabbed your arm, and led you back to the bakery you had just left. once you were both inside, she smacked you and dragged you to a seat.

"yah! what if someone had seen that? pabo." she smacked you again, immediately feeling bad, and massaged the spot she hit twice.

"I'm sorry... I just thought... it would get your attention," you said dejectedly.

"well, you certainly have my attention now. hah. you look like a kicked puppy right now." she burst out laughing, throwing her head back and clapping her hands. you made a silly smile and held her hand.

"so, wonyoung. would you go on a date with me?"

"aren't we already on one?" she asked, her eyebrows raised, a smile on her face.

she just always felt like bringing her guard down around you.

you brightened up and hugged her, giving all your "thank you's". she giggles and tries to swat your hands away, eventually giving up and settling for you and your warm embrace.

"thank you."

"you're welcome. I'm happy I keep on seeing you."

"me too. even if it's everywhere I go."

she laughed and smacked your shoulder before calling the waiter and placing her order.

whatever you felt at that moment, you knew you wanted to feel it more as time passed. one of the best things that ever happened to you was spending time with wonyoung, even if it was all unexpected encounters.

when you looked at the time, you told wonyoung in advance that you would bring her to her dorm so she could be safe. once she finishes eating, you swore you'd pay the bill because it's what she deserves.

when you saw her smile radiantly for you, you suddenly didn't mind getting home late or being scolded by yeji anymore.

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ending notes — yayy first fic done!! ofc it had to be my lovely wonyoung<3 not sure if it was messy, but I hope you enjoyed it!

#wonyoung x reader #jang wonyoung x reader #wonyoung imagines #ive x reader #ive fluff #ive imagines #izone x reader #wonyoung #jang wonyoung #🍃kachi's works

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gayofthefae · 2 months

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Do you ever think about how these are the only times he's allowed himself to take up space. One of them got many people including Bob killed and almost got him killed, only one is joy and it immediately caused conflict, and both times he allowed himself to be angry he later either dropped it completely or apologized himself, saying he "deserved it".

It's no wonder he doesn't take up space. Like Jonathan said, he's good at hiding. That isn't just physical; it means making yourself small too. Lonnie says "that boy never was very good at taking care of himself" so we know he didn't ever stand up to him.

No wonder he doesn't allow himself to want and enjoy things, look what happened last time.

No wonder he doesn't stand up for himself, look what happened last time.

That's the thing about how trauma symptoms develop and are reinforced: they make. sense. They are successful and the correct response to the situation to get you as safe as possible, they just spill over into situations they aren't needed in and it can be hard to decipher. Will was right to make himself small with his father. And he was right to run away from the mind flayer. But what happened with Mike and Lucas was a momentary lapse in their judgment, not a reinforcement of him taking up space being a bad thing.

Will needs to be with Mike next season because he doesn't just need to admit that he wants things, he needs to allow himself to actually want them. For a conceptual "gay character" story arc, coming out might be the ending, so I understand why it makes sense to you surface level. But he isn't conceptual; he is a person whose nuanced life experience and trauma and personality outside his queerness impact how he reacts to said queerness. In many ways, him being gay is just a narrative opportunity to demonstrate his arc onto of allowing himself to take up space. To love LOUDLY and without shame - because acceptance is still quiet -, to get ANGRY and stand by it, to take. up. space. As a queer person, as a boy who deep down still hears those words shouted in his ears every time he picks up a crayon, and as a boy whose body was stolen from him. He deserves for that body to take up space.

#fight vs flight #trauma representation #lgbtq healing #queer trauma #will byers analysis #stranger things #byler #will byers

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celerydays · 3 months

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Hi! I have been following you for some time and I notice you draw more and more Sebastian and Ominis doing stuff that makes me... uncomfortable.....

Sebastian and Ominis are best friends, why people are obsessed with drawing them into weird gay stuff? Seriously.... Why can't be friends.... without all Sebinis... Just stop it...

Normally I would delete messages or simply ignore the things that make me feel uncomfortable–

But, you're on anon and this is my ask inbox, so I can only assume you want an actual, public response. So alright. Fine.

Like I said: normally I would just remove odd, uncomfortable, or even outright rude messages without making a whole thing of it. I curate my own online experience and I try my best to live by that rule.

However, I've now gotten multiple unsolicited DMs over the course of a couple of months expressing the exact same sentiment (and nearly word-for-word as this ask, so I highly suspect I already know who you are). I have duly ignored or glossed over them hoping that the person/people would take the hint to simply stop engaging with the same message over and over again. But an anon ask is my last straw, I guess.

So if you are the same person as in my DMs, I'm finally giving you a response (and if you're not the same person – which I highly doubt – then I'm speaking to both of you).

Firstly, I want to say that I am sorry that your worldview is so limited that this is your stance and feelings on gay/queer ship content for Sebastian and Ominis.

Next, I ask that you please:

Don't make your homophobia anyone else's issue but your own. Don't come into DMs/ask inboxes/comments to make your discomfort with the content I create my problem. I don't know what you hoped to accomplish by sending this message but it's unlikely that you'll find the same feelings or sympathy from the person who is actively creating queer/sebinis content.

Curate your own online experience. Once again, do not make your content consumption anyone else's problem but your own. The "unfollow" button is there. Tumblr has a tag filtering system and I try to tag my art and content as accurately as possible. If you do not like something/it makes you uncomfortable, then do not continue to consume it. And if you still decide to stick around for whatever reason, then please keep your thoughts/opinions on this matter to yourself because I can promise that I don't actually care why you would continue to be here and looking at my art if it makes you unhappy.

Widen your worldview and try to reframe your perspective. Consider that Sebastian x Ominis is just as canon as Sebastian x f!MC or Ominis x f!MC. As much as we like to ship our various MCs with the canon characters, MC never actually amounts to canonically being confirmed as anything but being just friends with everyone. Using the "they are just best friends" / "why can't they just be portrayed only as friends" could literally be applied to just about any other non-canon/non-confirmed ship between friends regardless of gender. If even one of them, Ominis or Sebastian, was portrayed as cis female in canon, I would suspect that you would better "understand" why a ship between these two "friends" may exist. Then also consider a cis male MC; it's possible you may suddenly reframe all the interactions between Ominis x m!MC or Sebastian x m!MC in your head to be "totally platonic/friendly". Your issue is certainly not with their canon relationship vs. fandom portrayal (but I think we both know that).

Educate yourself. Go outside and meet and talk to people, I dunno. It is 2024 my dude. I don't even know how you're on Tumblr – the most queer-friendly social media site – with those kind of narrowed views and stigma.

I would like to finish by saying: I don't wish you the best. What I do wish is for you to learn, grow, and be better than this.

And also please stop sending me messages of this nature, because the next ask or DM I get like this, we're moving on to blocking at this point. And if your purpose was to get me to stop, I can tell you that these messages have only fueled the explicit sebinis smut maker in me. 😤

#I'm sorry for anyone who sees this and did not want a rant on their feed today #ask #anon #sebinis #hl

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xiaq · 1 year

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AO3 Pt. 1 Pt. 2

Pt. 3 I combined the prompts: Outsider POV, Steve Harrington is an Idiot (affectionate), Everyone is Queer Because I Said So, and @c0olness's hyper-specific Wayne's Boyfriend Owns a Gay Bar in Indianapolis and Introduces Steve to a Drag Queen. :)

Angel Reyes has loved Wayne Munson about as long as he’s loved himself. The timing is not coincidental.

Which is why he’s willing to wait for him, even when Angel’s patience is worn thin like the shirt he stole from Wayne three years ago and wears like a prayer to bed.

Some nights, when Wayne calls at the end of his shift and Angel is wiping down his own bar at closing, he’s tempted to say: we might not have much time left—shouldn’t we spend what we do have together?

But he doesn’t.

Because he already knows the answer.

Because the same reason he fell in love with Wayne is the reason Wayne won’t move to Indy. The man is loyal to a fault and when he gives himself to people he gives all of himself and there’s no force in the world that would convince Wayne to leave Hawkins if he thought Eddie still needed him there. Because Wayne loves Angel. But Wayne loved Eddie first. And Angel can hardly begrudge him of that.

So he repeats a well-worn mantra, only slightly comforting: not today, but someday. And he hangs up the phone and he checks the calendar and he looks forward to the time he is allowed. If there’s one thing he learned over the years, it’s that he can’t get greedy when he already has a good thing.

Wayne is worth the quiet agony of patience.

So when he’s locking up for the night and the phone rings, he expects the conversation to take a familiar path.

“Evening, handsome,” he says, canting his hip against the counter. “You tell him yet?”

It’s been his standard greeting for close to a year. Why the man won’t just tell his gay nephew that he is, conveniently, also gay, is beyond Angel. But then, listening has always been Wayne’s strong suit. Talking, not so much.

“Well,” Wayne says. And that’s new.

“Well?”

“I did, actually. After I walked in on him and Steve kissin’ last night—“

“Finally!” Angel crows. The saga of Eddie and Steve and their will-they-won’t-they relationship had quickly surpassed even his favorite telenovela’s dramatic storylines. The pretty jock with hidden depths and the nerdy metalhead falling in love? Hospital vigils? Protracted pining while sharing a bed? Impeccable.

“They’re together now,” Wayne finishes.

“Darling,” Angel says, not for the first time, “I’d like to remind you that you are not paying per word for this call.”

Wayne huffs at him, also not for the first time.

“Steve didn’t know liking both boys and girls meant he was bisexual. He thought there was some sort of…threshold he needed to pass to be queer enough to date a man. I suppose Robin set him straight––or, not so straight as the case may be––” he chuckles a little at his own joke, “And he came over to declare his love as soon as his shift ended.”

Angel takes a moment to digest that. “...Maybe they use Eddie as the sperm donor if they want kids,” he suggests.

“Ease up, it’s not like they teach this shit in school. Bet I’d been a lot more confused too if I had the luxury of liking both.”

“Alright, I won’t pick on your future son-in-law, promise.”

“ Speaking of school,” Wayne says, sidestepping his implication. “Eddie got his diploma in the mail yesterday.”

“You going to do something to celebrate?”

“Actually, we thought we’d take a trip to Indy this weekend.”

Angel twists the phone’s cord around his finger. “…you’re supposed to come next weekend.”

“So you’d have to see me two weeks in a row, if you can bear it.”

“A trial, to be sure. When you say…” he pauses, trying to figure out how to clarify without breaking his own heart. “When you come this weekend. Would you want us—would you want me. To meet them?”

He closes his eyes and bangs a fist against his forehead because that is not the safe way to ask that question.

“It'd be pretty weird if they didn’t meet the person hosting them.”

“Oh, I see. You’re just using me for my five star accommodations,” he says, because he’s apparently determined to dig his own grave.

“No. Wayne says, “those are nice. But mostly I just want to introduce them to my boyfriend.”

“Ah.”

“And saying shit like that makes me think you’re trying to compete with Steve in the stupid Olympics.”

Angel makes an outraged noise but Wayne talks over him which is unique enough an occurrence that Angel lets him get away with it.

“See,” Wayne says. “The boys have decided they don’t want to stay in Hawkins long-term. They figure they’ll stay another year. Save some money. Make sure the kids are settled. And then Eddie’s set on New York or California and I think Steve’s just set on Eddie, wherever he is. I thought we could at least make a case for Indy, though. ‘Cause if Eddie isn’t staying in Hawkins, I’ve got no reason to.”

“Ah,” Angel says again. “And you don’t have any interest in New York or California?”

“I sure don’t,” Wayne says levelly.

“Well,” he clears his throat. “I’ll mop the floors and clean the windows. Give them the best showing I can. Should we plan to take them to one of the…heavier… music venues? I can probably have Frank cover for me, I’d just need to ask him now.”

“Nah. I figure I’ll help you out Saturday night and let them explore on their own. Eddie’s already making a list of options. But Friday is drag night at your place, right?”

“It is.”

“We should start them with that, I think.”

Angel grins. “Their debut in queer society shall be heralded by Dolly Parton and glitter.”

“Mm.”

Angel is familiar enough with Wayne’s thoughtful noises to know that he’s smiling.

“Enough about my boys,” Wayne says. “Tell me about your day.”

Angel does.

When Angel hangs up ten minutes later, for once, he’s grinning. He thinks, as usual, not today but someday. Only ‘someday’ suddenly feels tangible in a way it never has before.

***

Eddie Munson is exactly what Angel expected him to be when he comes tumbling out the driver’s side door of the van parked half on Angel’s driveway and half on his lawn. Angel has been hearing about him through the rosy lens of Wayne’s affection for close to five years and as a result, Angel loves him immediately upon first sight.

Then again, he’d be difficult not to love. Eddie is a bright, frenetic, presence, all hair and chains and affected airs, who shares Wayne's smile, though he dispenses smiles much more freely than his uncle. He is unashamedly himself as he shakes Angel’s hand, tells his uncle he approves, and then asks for a tour of the house.

Steve Harrington is somehow simultaneously exactly and nothing like Angel expected.

Exactly, because he looks the part: a cropped Hawkins Varsity Basketball sweatshirt, tiny athletic shorts, and the well-built frame of someone who regularly works out. His hair is verging on ridiculous. His face is…well-suited to the body, he’ll say.

But the kid also has a hyper-awareness to him, a quick-eyed, assessing, vigilant posture, that Angel has only ever seen in war vets twice the kid’s age. He puts his back to a room’s farthest corner. He keeps doorways in sight. And he constantly, constantly, orbits Eddie like the world's most unsubtle protective detail.

There are also the scars. Terrible, still-healing, scars. On one exposed thigh, the side of his neck, and his right forearm. On the slice of skin between his waistband and the frayed cut-off hem of his sweater. He wears them unapologetically, with the composure of someone who is neither proud nor embarrassed by them.

Angel suspects, only a few minutes into their first meeting, that Eddie may have similar scars beneath his torn jeans and bleach-speckled band shirt. One of his arms has some sort of medical sleeve on it—the pale fabric covered in black bleed-fuzzy Sharpie drawings of bats. Angel considers the mangled half-moon-shaped lines decorating Steve’s thigh. Unless earthquakes have suddenly developed teeth, Wayne has clearly been editing his stories.

But despite their significant aesthetic differences, the two boys are well-suited, if painfully young and unpracticed in the art of subtlety. They touch each other constantly; unthinkingly. Hands. Hips. Shoulders. Elbows. And the way they look at each other—well. They’ll need to work on that if they don’t want to accumulate more scars. Granted, they hardly have to hide their relationship in the sanctuary of his home, but he gets the feeling they don’t know how to be any other way with each other.

It’s both sweet and more than a little heartbreaking.

“So,” he says, “ I need to get back to the bar before the opening act at 8. It’s drag night.”

“Robin is going to be furious she didn’t come,” Steve says.

“We’ll bring her next time,” Eddie says.

They go.

***

Angel’s bar is called Innuendo.

He can’t take credit for the name, but he can take credit for the atmosphere. It’d been a dark, sticky, hole-in-the-wall when he started working there at 21. When he’d bought it from the former owner a decade later, he’d cleaned it up, regulated the jukebox hours, and started live music, drag, and deejay nights. A few years after that, in 1984, when the mayor issued a proclamation declaring the new city policy to no longer discriminate against queers, he’d taken the boards down from all the windows.

It’s still dark in the back where the stage and dance floor are tucked away, but the front windows with a clear view of the street are big and unashamed. He keeps the windows clean.

There’s a copy of the proclamation framed above them, along with pictures of Angel and noteworthy patrons of the establishment over the years: Wakefield Poole; Tom Higgins; Bayard Rustin; Freddie Mercury, and Jim Hutton.

A lot has changed in the last two decades that he’s worked there, but some things, like the old oak-wood bar where all the pictures were taken, stay the same.

He brings Wayne and the boys in through the back to scattered shouts of hello from regulars. He and Wayne slide behind the bar to start helping Frank, and the boys sit on stools with wide eyes.

It’s nice, to see the place from their perspective. The magic of it is never lost on him, but sometimes he does forget exactly how magic it is: a bar that looks like most other bars but where men look and touch and kiss without concern, where there’s art and magazines and conversations that wouldn’t be permitted by common society a scant few feet outside the door.

After fifteen minutes, they get brave enough to explore—admiring the posters on the opposite wall: Bijou and Boys in the Sand; Passing Strangers, Forbidden Letters, and A Night at the Adonis.

They play a round of darts near the front windows, the boards covered in shitty black-and-white copies of Anita Bryant’s face.

They sit at a table near the stage when the show starts. They pull their chairs together. They hold hands on the tabletop. They laugh and shout and sing along and kiss when invited.

After, when they’re back at the bar, flushed with alcohol and the subtle worldview shift that Angel remembers well from his first visit to a gay bar, a few of the queens come over to introduce themselves. Leslie, currently in her Cher era, steps up to the bar, accepts her drink from Wayne with a wink, and gives Steve a clear once-over.

“Aren't you out a little late for a school night, baby?" she says in her customary baritone.

“Uh, no ma’am. I graduated last year. Sorry. Sir?”

"Sugar, do I look like a ‘sir’ to you?"

“Take it easy on him, Les,” Angel calls. “He’s new.”

“No kidding.” She purses her lips at him. “Ma’am is fine unless you meet me on the street. But here I’d prefer ‘honey. Or ‘darling.”

Steve swallows. “I promised I’d reserve pet names for my boyfriend. So. I’ll stick with Ma’am.”

“Well aren’t you a charmer. And where is this boyfriend?”

“Hi,” Eddie says.

She gives him an equally critical once-over.

“Do you know what that color bandana means in that pocket?”

Eddie glances down at his back left pocket; at the black bandana hanging against his thigh.

“Ah...that I’m into S&M but that I like to be the submission one? Like the one getting tied up?”

“You what?” Steve says.

Angel notices that Wayne has made a hasty exit to the bathroom, which is probably for the best.

“Oh my sweet summer child,” Leslie says, “it means the opposite on that side, so maybe switch pockets.” She considers Steve’s pink face. “And also maybe talk to your boyfriend. The whole point of flagging is to find someone to meet your needs and you've got a pretty one right here who seems like he’s awfully willing.”

Steve pulls the bandana out of Eddie’s pocket and, using his teeth, tidily rips it into two. He tucks one half in Eddie’s right back pocket. He tucks the other in his left. He crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow like he's expecting Eddie to argue. Eddie does not argue. Eddie doesn't do much of anything except stare at him with wide, hungry eyes.

“Well,” Leslie says, sounding pleased, “My work here is done. Honestly, kids these days.”

She gives Steve a little pat on the shoulder as she pushes back into the crowd. “I’d dance while you have the chance, boys. Life is short and sometimes so is love. Capitalize on that shit!”

“Do you want to dance?” Steve asks.

Eddie is still watching Leslie with a bemused smile. “I don’t know how to dance to this music.”

“Well I won’t know how to dance to yours tomorrow, but I’m planning to let you show me.”

“Fair enough, King Steve." Eddie affects a curtsy, offering Steve his hand. “I suppose I can allow you to take me for a turn about the dance floor, good sir.”

Steve bows low over Eddie’s hand, pressing his lips to his knuckles, looking up at him with a grin. “An honor,” he says solemnly, and then drags Eddie, laughing, into the throng of moving bodies.

***

The next morning, Angel wakes up early for no reason he can determine. He’s not good at sitting idle, and he doesn’t want his fidgeting to wake Wayne, so he elects to take his book to the garden. Only, as he slips into the hall, careful with the door behind him, he can hear the quiet, indistinct lull of voices in the kitchen.

Angel moves down the hall on sock feet, avoiding the creaky bit of flooring where the original foundation meets the master addition he added four years back.

The boys have opened the double doors to the patio and Steve is leaning against the jam on one side, coffee cup in hand, looking out at the garden. He’s shirtless, wearing only the shorts from the day before. Warm, tree-diluted, sunrise rays cast him in sepia, making the scars that traverse his flank to his thigh look less gruesome and more artistic. Poetic. He knows more than one photographer who would kill for a shot like this. Something about the coexistence of beauty and pain. Something about a commentary on perceptions of strength; the allure of imperfection resulting from battles survived.

Eddie joins Steve, sliding under his open arm like a habit, dragging a hand down Steve’s side to cup the puckered line of recently-stitched skin at Steve’s hip.

Eddie is also shirtless—wearing jeans and a riot of bed head that Steve presses his face into, murmuring something low and clearly funny by the stifled laughter it produces.

Angel wasn't wrong with his initial assumption: Eddie’s back is littered with shallow scars as well, but he also has a fair amount of tattoos, which makes the other marks less incongruous. There’s something about Steve’s otherwise flawless skin and sculpted muscles that make his injuries feel more visceral.

Or, at least, that’s what he thinks until Steve suddenly looks behind him, like he has a preternatural awareness that he’s being watched.

“Oh,” he says, “Good morning.”

Both boys turn to face him.

And Angel realizes that Steve’s injuries pale in comparison to Eddie’s.

Because Eddie’s chest and belly is a brutal mess of scar tissue.

It looks like something tried to gut him.

It looks like whatever it was probably succeeded.

He knows he’s staring but he can’t seem to stop himself until Steve slides a proprietary hand over the worst of it, spread fingers against what has to still be an agony of healing skin.

He meets Angel's eyes and all but dares him to say anything.

“I think,” Angel says, turning abruptly to enter the kitchen, “the occasion calls for french toast. Thoughts?”

“The occasion?” Eddie asks.

His hand covers Steve’s and presses, not a dismissal but an invitation to linger.

“Your diploma,” Angel says, “Steve’s first time making a fool of himself in front of a drag queen. Whatever excuse is sufficient for the making of said french toast.”

“See, we’re sort of trying out this new thing lately,” Eddie murmurs, looking at Steve, “where we don’t need excuses for things that make us happy.”

“No guilt in our pleasures,” Steve agrees, voice soft, expression reverent. He tucks an errant curl behind Eddie’s ear.

Angel resists the urge to sigh at them. Instead, he toasts them with a carton of eggs. “French toast for the pleasure of french toast, then. You two go sit on the bench in the garden. The sun should be hitting it right about now and that is surely a pleasurable experience. I’ll let you know when breakfast is ready.”

Steve meets his eyes again, this time less challenging, more thankful.

His hand slides from Eddie’s belly to the small of his back, pushing him out onto the patio.

“That sounds nice,” he says.

And they go.

When Wayne shuffles out to join Angel at the stove ten minutes later, the bread is sizzling in the skillet.

They take their time washing the egg bowl and whisk in the sink, elbow to elbow, two men sharing space for a one-man job.

They lean into each other, considering Eddie and Steve, similarly leaned into each other, on the bench under the oak tree outside.

“You think I should talk to them?” Wayne murmurs. “About the way they look at each other. And touch each other. And how they need to cut that shit out if they’re in public?”

“Probably,” Angel sighs. “But not today.”

“No,” Wayne agrees after a moment of silence. He presses a kiss to Angel’s temple. “Not today.”

Pt. 4 (Will's POV)

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve/eddie #myfic #outsider pov #prompt fill #mywriting #listen this was mostly an excuse to cram in a bunch of references to the research I did for my PhD exams in queer theory/history

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bountycancelled · 5 months

Text

LOST CAUSE

bada x reader (part 4)

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

warnings: none I believe (besides subpar writing because I'm burnt out)

content: mentions of sex (but no one's actually fucking) sad gays, but some happy gays too, bada being hypothetically, reader lowkey slaying???

lusher wished that you could see yourself the way she sees you.

sure, it was cliché, but that didn't mean that she didn't believe it. you were much better than you gave yourself credit for, better than the things you put yourself through just to call bada a friend.

"what?"

lusher blinked rapidly, her heartbeat matching the pace set by her eyelashes. you had caught her staring, again. she scrambled for something, anything to say. something to diffuse this strange tension that she had caused. "I just... you look good."

real smooth lusher, you're a certified flirting expert.

you simply let out an airy laugh, waving away the compliment with your hand. "I'm literally wearing your shirt, narcissistic much?"

lusher sputtered, shaking her hands rapidly as she tried explain herself to you. "I'm kidding lusher! you're always so on edge around me, i swear."

lusher laughed with you, hoping that you didn't catch the look in her eyes that confirmed what you had just said. on edge, not exactly the term that she would use to describe how she felt around you. about you.

maybe giddy? nervous? wanting to impress? she wasn't sure, and right now, with you in her apartment instead of in badas' like you always were she wasn't worried about anything but you.

"it's actually because... im in love with you, and I always have been." lusher stated in an overdramatised manner, her hand on her chest.

"get in line." you replied back, giggling at her mock confession. lusher joined in on your laughing, ending it with a sigh. it felt so strange to say those words out loud to you, even though you didn't believe them to be true.

it was cathartic, in a weird way. she got the relief of confessing, but without the consequences. this had to some kidn of self sabotage, but she didn't mind it, anything to hear your laugh.

your moment together was interrupted when you checked your phone momentarily, only to be met by a flood of messages and missed calls. all from bada.

you let out a sigh, realising that your absence had probably worried her. you started typing a response, assuring her that you were okay at lushers, when the woman in question entered through lusher's front door.

"I have no idea where she is, lusher. she wasn't at my place, so I went to hers and nothing. I'm starting to thin- oh." she paused her rant mid way through when she saw you, obviously surprised that you were here.

she rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly, her lips pressed into a thin line. "... can we talk?"

you looked at her, before turning your gaze back to lusher, silently asking if you could go speak with bada privately. she was disappointed, you could tell. hell, anyone with eyes could tell that she didn't want you to go, not now, not for bada.

nevertheless, she nodded, trying and failing to hide her displeased expression.

"I went back to my place looking for you, I didn't know you were at lushers." bada was the first to speak once you both entered her car, facing forward with her hands on the steering wheel out of habit. her tone was... strange. for lack of a better word. there was some semblance of anger, you think? you couldn't place it, and that just made it all the more confusing.

"I was." your reply was curt. to the point. no cushioning bada from your anger, no more fake smiles and laughs, just you and how your real feelings being expressed to her fully.

she physically flinched just a bit at your coldness, but it was almost refreshing. like a run early in the morning, or the blazing, bitter first sip of coffee when all you want to do is go back to bed. a wake up call.

another awkward silence stretched over the car, with only the feint song on the radio and the nervous drumming of bada's fingers on the steering wheel to break the uncomfortable quiet.

"I'm sorry." bada said softly, effectively breaking the silence. "for not taking as much care of our friendship as you were. i know it may not seem like it because of my actions, but you are my whole world, and when I showed up to my apartment and you weren't there anymore I–"

was she crying? you didn't know, you weren't looking at her, you couldn't bear the sadness in her voice. you simply faced forward, letting her say her piece.

"I realised that losing you would be the end of my life as I know it, and I know that it's shitty of me to only realise it when you have one foot out the door but I hope that you... will allow me to prove or redeem myself to you or... just please. please, give me a chance."

you took it all in, her words. they seemed... sincere, and you wanted so desperately to immediately put a smile on your face, jokingly mock her for being so dramatic and assure her that you weren't going anywhere.

but, you didn't.

you nodded, turning to face her so that you could acknowledge her apology verbally. "you're my best friend, bada. I haven't given up on you." those words, however curt they were, lifted the heavy weight on her shoulders instantaneously.

she was relieved that she hadn't lost you yet, and she was going to do everything in her power to ensure that it wouldn't come to that.

she wrapped her arms around you from where she sat in the drivers seat, squeezing you tightly, as if she was afraid that you would disappear. she let you go, wearing a giddy expression on her face. "you are too good for me, my love. okay, okay, what do you wanna do now? we could go to the arcade and as a treat I'll finally let you beat me at that stupid dancing game."

you grimaced, feeling a lump from in your throat. "although I'd absolutely love to‐" bada's heart sank into her stomach. she knew she wasn't going to be forgiven immediately, but knowing didn't make your rejection any less heartbreaking.

"-but lusher actually wanted to have a game night kinda thing, and I couldn't ditch her in good conscious. it would be a little hypothetical of me. but, I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?" you concluded, already opening the passenger door.

as you walked back to lusher's front door, you couldn't help but feel a little proud of yourself. usually, you would've jumped at the opportunity to even be in bada's presence, cherishing every speck of attention she'd give you.

but as you walked back into her apartment, the look on lusher's face made any doubts about your decision to stay vanish in her eyes.

"I thought you were gonna leave with bada." lusher spoke, unable to hide the smile creeping on her face. you had chosen her. by some miracle, you'd chosen her.

"and miss our impromptu game night? not a chance. now, prepare to lose at every game we play." you smiled back, feeling a small amount of guilt at leaving bada, but not enough to sour being with lusher.

☆

so this was what it was like.

to be rejected in favour of someone else.

bada could now understand your qualms perfectly, and the feeling she was experiencing left her wondering why you had even given her another chance.

it was a special kind of rejection, made up of a range of emotions. she was angry, not at you but rather, at herself. how many times had you felt this way because of her?

she was jealous. of lusher, she wanted to be the one that you were spending the night, she wanted to do game night with you. she wanted you to be in her shirt, not lushers. not anyone else's.

god, that fucking shirt. if she ever got her hands on it, she would burn it, or shred it, because maybe if it were destroyed, bada could live the rest of her days pretending that you had never put on your body in the first place.

did you let lusher see you out of the shirt as you were changing? were you going to let her take it off of you at the end of the night? were you and lusher a thing?

she couldn't stomach the thought. of you, sweet, gorgeous, sexy you being touched by someone else. the thought of your back arching, your mouth falling open, sweet noises escaping from between your lips because of lusher.

the thought ate her up from the inside as the hours of the night turned to morning. she had no reason to be so opposed to you receiving pleasure, lusher wasn't a bad person by any means, she would treat you well.

but bada could treat you even better, she was sure of it. she had spent years with you, and she was confident that she knew your body better than anyone else, even though you had never slept together.

bada stared at her phone. the time read 2:47 am. no new messages from you.

having thoughts about sleeping with her best friend was not something that bada had expected to do. maybe it was sleep deprivation making her delirious or something, maybe this was her brains attempt at conceptualising just why she felt so abrasive when confronted either the thought of you with someone else.

or maybe... this was the beginning of the eventual self reflection that bada would have to do to conceptualise how she felt about you.

whatever it was, she needed to sleep. she needed to sleep to forget that you were mostly likely, too busy with lusher to even remember her.

wow, she was such a hypocrite.

a/n: who are you guys rooting for? do you think there's still hope for bada and reader?

#bada lee #bada lee x reader #bada lee fanfiction #bada #bada x reader #bada x oc #bada lee fluff #bada lee fanfic #bada lee fic #bada lee x y/n #swf2 x reader #smau masterlist #smau #lusher x reader #lusher

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male-fictioner · 6 months

Text

Boyfriends

Pairing: DomTop!Liam Payne x Bottom!male reader x SoftTop!Niall Horan

Category: SMUT

Warnings: Gay sex, anal, blowjobs, smut, marking, overstimulation, multiple rounds, possessiveness, jealousy, DP, idk i'm probably missing something.

A/n: I hope I did just to the request. I got distracted and hence the backstory is more drawn out that the smut. I'm sorry 😭😭.

Word Count: 2.8k words

Read at your own discretion.

"Will you be our boyfriend?" were not the words you were expecting to hear from the two people standing in front of you.

You were just surprised that these two hot guys want to be with you. You did not even realise when that happened or how that happened but you knew somehow you made them fall in love with you.

But all this started when you got famous. I mean how else would Liam Payne and Niall Horan even come to know about your existence.

You still vividly remember the first time you met them. Anyone who says that they are into guys and have never had a crush on one of the One Direction members then they are probably lying because how could you not. There is a whole variety to choose from.

And you certainly had your crushes on the guys in front of you. Asking you the question you always wanted to hear and hence you said, “YES! I would love to be your boyfriend.”

**********************************************

You always loved singing and always loved music. Being a musician, a singer has always been your dream. A dream you were ready to follow no matter what. So you started to write and record music at a very early age. You submitted it to various record houses.

Once you had graduated high school, you music journey began with a call that went like,

“Hello, am I talking to Mr. Y/n L/n?” said a guy with a low deep voice.

“Yes, who am I talking to?” you asked

“Mr. L/n, I am Robert Matthews from a2z record label. You have submitted your music to us, we would like to set up a meeting with you. We really think you have potential”

You couldn’t believe your ears, someone liked your music?

That meeting which you attended was the best thing that had ever happened to you. They had really liked your music and they were interested to sign you. You almost signed the contract that very moment but thought it was better if you actually consulted some people who had more knowledge than you.

You were barely an adult and this was a huge step to take. So after some careful consideration you decided to sign on with them.

But you didn't get the instant gratification you were hoping for when you worked vigorously for a whole year just to get an album. It took time to figure out what your sound will be. How you want your music to be. You also needed a lot of help to write your lyrics and everything.

But after this year, your debut album was released. Save for some singles released by you over the course of the year to introduce you to your audience, this was really a big step for you.

And this is where your life turns upside down. After the release of your album, a lot of people got to know you. Of Course you were no chart- breaking success but your album did well to get you invited to music events and also get you nominated for awards.

You had Niall Horan to thank for some of your success too. On your post about releasing your album, there was a like by NIALL FREAKING HORAN and you were literally screaming when you got a COMMENT by him that went like,

Congratulations on your debut. You sound amazing.’

And this literally got you the free promotion you could have never even asked for.

After wondering what to reply, you just sent a ‘Thank you so much.’ But not without sending him a quick dm.

And this is how you can say their friendship flourished and your old crush that he had stuffed somewhere deep inside reignited. After this, you and Niall talked a lot. Niall was a great mentor to you and helped you a lot with the journey.

A few weeks later you were attending the Brits as you were nominated and supposed to perform. Niall was gonna be there and you both met each other at the show. You were a nervous wreck thinking thoughts of ruining your performance, not winning the show etc.

This is when Niall introduced you to Liam Payne. You could not believe your eyes that he was actually in front of you. You wouldn’t be lying if you said that he was hotter in real life. All those muscles looked delectable. And what you had only thought about in your dreams, was actually happening. You were sitting across your crushes and having a conversation with them. It is actually surprising how you were calmly talking with them without choking on your tongue.

The whole night, they kept you company and talked about all sorts of things to calm your nerves. They told you about their first experience and how they felt. That helped you somehow. Even though you did not win the award, your performance was amazing. And you received some applause for it too.

This meeting led you, Niall and Liam getting closer than before. You even decided to invite them to the opening show of your tour. While it was a small tour, it was very good for a budding artist. After the show, they took you out for dinner as a celebration.

This led to you feeling comfortable with them and so did they. And hence they told you that they were dating each other for the past 4 years. You were surprised to say the least but very supportive of them. You told them that you are gay too and they were extremely supportive too.

You guys had dinner with each other often and the media thought this was a mentor- mentee relationship. Which it was but you had wanted more. After finding out that they were together, you did not want to ruin their relationship and so you decided to distance yourself. Not directly but emotionally.

With this, he started to flirt with other people, hookup with them just trying to get himself over a relationship he never even had.

What he didn't know was that Niall and Liam also wanted him as much as he wanted them if not more.

Oblivious to your want being matched, you continued flirting with other people. When you went to an album release party of some famous singer, whose name you couldn't remember, you were flirting with someone you really didn’t care about. That’s when you spotted Liam and Niall talking at the other side.

“I’ll be back in 5 minutes.” you told the guy you were with and went to talk to the guys.

“Heyy I did not know you were going to be here. It’s such a good surprise.” you said hugging them.

You had some small talk and parted to go back to your hookup for the night.

Little did you know, they had been looking at you all this time. Seeing how you were talking to some guy who wasn’t them. Getting close to him, hardly any space between you. Bodies pressed together, slow and sensual movements, whispers in each other's ears, those chaste kisses and how you laughed at his jokes. They were seeing everything and the only thought in their mind was, that should be us.

Your fingers grazed his bicep and other on his neck, while his being on your waist inching lower and lower as time passed. That is when Liam and Niall decided that this is it. You were theirs and they will show you today.

When they stalked towards you, you and the guy were already making out with each other. After feeling a presence, you turn around and see Liam and Niall standing there. The look in their eyes was something you had never seen in the past almost year you had known them. It was something raw, anger, jealousy, lust? You couldn’t figure it out.

“Lets go Y/n” Liam said with an authoritative voice that sent a chill down your spine.

Without any question, you followed them despite the protests from your partner for that night. You shot him a ‘I’ll call you later look’ and left.

After going out, you finally managed to find your voice and asked in a low voice, “Where are we going?”

“To our hotel room.” Niall replied.

Liam did not say anything and after this neither did Niall. The ride to their hotel room was quiet and awkward. The sexual tension thick in the air. They let you enter the room first and before you could say anything, you were backed up against the wall by two taller guys and somehow they felt extra tall.

“What do you think you were doing?” Liam asked, staring in my eyes.

You gulped and replied, “What did I do?”

“Hooking up with other people when you want us and we want you. Teasing us like this. That is what you did.” Liam answered your question leaving you in complete shock to know that they want you. You looked at Niall for confirmation and his eyes said it all. He did not verbally reply but a slight nod made it clear.

You must have been blind to not see their interest in you. Lost deep in your thought, you did not realise when you ended up on the edge of the bed. When your legs felt the bed, it brought you out of your thoughts. You ended up with your back to the mattress. Liam and Niall looked at you like hungry predators who had just found their prey for the night. You gulped nervously wondering what is gonna happen to you.

Noticing this shift in your behaviour, Niall being the sweet man he is, asked, “You want this too right?”

“Yes, yes I want it. I want you guys. Please.” You replied hurriedly looking at both of them. Niall smiled and inched closer to you.

“Look at him Niall, we haven’t even touched him and he is already hungry for our cocks. What a slut.” Liam said with a mocking smirk. His dirty talk led to an involuntary moan coming from your mouth to which he only seemed to be more pleased.

“What do you want, baby boy? Tell us exactly what you want so we can give it to you.” He continued making you more and more flustered.

“I want you to fuck me.” You tried to reply as plainly as possible but your reddened face was betraying you.

“Come on Liam, don't tease him that much.” Niall laughed, turning to kiss you, giving you the first intimate moment of the night. His kiss was soft and inviting. It was teasing your lips making you want more. It felt different than any other kiss you hav had yet. Soft but equally dominating. Passionate but filled with love. His tongue licked your lips and you parted them to give him entrance. Both your tongues lapping each other and he let you win the game of dominance.

All this while, Liam was busy making quick work of the three of your clothes. He undressed himself and Niall first after which he moved on to you leaving all three of you in underwear. You felt a shiver once he was done with your clothes.

You and Niall broke the kiss to catch your breath. Liam got next to you, took your face in his hands and said ,”My turn.”

His kiss was much different than Nialls. It was rough, passionate and dominating. It was hard. He kissed you like you were his source of oxygen. You moaned when you felt lips on your neck. The source of them was Niall. This gave Liam the perfect time to enter your mouth. Your tongues fought for dominance but it was no fight at all. He had already won.

After kissing for a while and Niall covering you in marks, you ended up with puffed lips and red spots covering your neck. You probably looked ruined already and this was only the start.

“Whose a better kisser Y/n us or the guy you were with ?” Liam asked, still being jealous about the night.

“You both. I can’t even remember his kiss. I only remember your lips.” You said lustfully.

The answer seemed to satisfy him as he turned to Niall and asked, “How do you want to do this Niall?” He ignored your presence as he asked this like you had no input on how the night goes.

“Whatever you decide.” Niall replied.

“I’ll take his ass, you take his mouth.” Liam said nonchalantly.

And this is how you ended up on your hands and knees with Liam prepping your ass and eating you out while Niall takes your mouth.

Liam starts by licking a long stripe from your balls to your hole. He slowly pushed his tongue in the tight heat of your hole and you let out a moan at the intrusion. He pushes his tongue deeper at your sounds. Niall settles near the headboard taking off his underwear and bringing his cock to a semi hard state. He puts a finger in your mouth and you suck at it expertly.

Once Liam is done with eating you out, he lubes his fingers up and enters one finger in the tight ring of muscles. Seeing the discomfort on your face, Niall tries comforting you.

“Relax for us baby, let us take care of you. We’ll make you feel good.” he said running his fingers through your hair and kissing you softly.

Liam enters another finger and soon another opening you up for their big nice cocks.

Once he feels that you are loose enough, he and Niall enter you at the same time leaving you perplexed. Niall’s 6.5 inch dick making its way to the back of your throat is met with vibrations from your moans while Liam’s 8 inch dick enters your tight hole slowly but surely.

After both of them have stuffed you up, they start moving. Niall keeps hitting the back of your throat while Liam keeps hammering you from behind making you choke more on Niall's length. Niall has a hand in your hair holding you firmly. And Liam has gripped your hips tight enough that they’ll leave bruises. He marks your back while drilling your hole making you moan and all the sensations go to Niall's dick.

There are praises being thrown at you often enough. You can hardly process most of them your mind being too hazy with all the sex.

You heard Niall say, "Such a good boy, taking us so well."

"He really knows how to suck a cock."

"He is so tight for us. I bet no one has fucked him like this." Liam had added.

Some other compliments that you cannot remember.

Soon enough your weeping cock comes in spurts completely untouched leaving ropes and ropes of cum on the sheets beneath you. This makes your grip on Liam’s cock tighter making his thrusts faster and sloppier. Niall's cock is close by the way he is thrusting and as if on the thought of it, he comes in your mouth filling you with copious amounts of cum which you are left to swallow. He is followed by Liam who comes in you ass and fucks you through the orgasm making you moan and wince from oversensitivity.

After this, they took turns with Niall fucking your ass and Liam your mouth. For the last round, your tight little ass (which wasn’t nearly as tight now) was filled to the brim with both the cocks. You cannot remember how many times you came that night but it was more than you ever have in a night.

At this point, you did not have one coherent thought. You were too exhausted. You could not make out the words Niall and Liam said and neither could you say anything. All you had on your mind was dicks and sex.

After being stuffed by two big and thick cocks, you came one last time which was just watery at this point and passed out from pleasure and exhaustion.

When you woke up, you were clean on clean sheets with Niall on your right, your face against his chest and Liam on your left with your back to his chest. You drift off to sleep again and when you finally wake up, Liam and Niall were awake too.

“Hey there, Y/n. You must be exhausted.” Niall said softly. You just hummed in response not wanting to talk.

“I’m sorry if we were too hard on you.” Liam said rubbing circles in your back. You shook your head and nuzzled closer to Niall’s chest.

Soon enough the three of you woke up and had breakfast from the room service. During this time, you guys talked like you always used to and it felt like nothing had changed.

"Will you be our boyfriend? I know it must be weird for you but we just feel like it would be right since we like you so much." They said leaving you speechless for a second.

But of course you wanted this, how could you not.

“I would love nothing more in the world.” You answered honestly.

They smiled and you gave each of them a kiss. After this, you would need no one else.

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I hope you liked this fic. Like and comment to let me know if you did. Constructive criticism is appreciated. Hate is not. Thankss.

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