#there’s so much left to deal with but in that moment they’re the only two people in the world | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fans4wga · 9 months

Text

"The studios thought they could handle a strike. They might end up sparking a revolution"

by Mary McNamara

"If you want to start a revolution, tell your workers you’d rather see them lose their homes than offer them fair wages. Then lecture them about how their “unrealistic” demands are “disruptive” to the industry, not to mention disturbing your revels at Versailles, er, Sun Valley.

Honestly, watching the studios turn one strike into two makes you wonder whether any of their executives have ever seen a movie or watched a television show. Scenes of rich overlords sipping Champagne and acting irritated while the crowd howls for bread rarely end well for the Champagne sippers.

This spring, it sometimes seemed like the Hollywood studios represented by the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers were actively itching for a writers’ strike. Speculations about why, exactly, ran the gamut: Perhaps it would save a little money in the short run and show the Writers Guild of America (perceived as cocky after its recent ability to force agents out of the packaging business) who’s boss.

More obviously, it might secure the least costly compromise on issues like residuals payments and transparency about viewership.

But the 20,000 members of the WGA are not the only people who, having had their lives and livelihoods upended by the streaming model, want fair pay and assurances about the use of artificial intelligence, among other sticking points. The 160,000 members of the Screen Actors Guild-American Federation of Television and Radio Artists share many of the writers’ concerns. And recent unforced errors by studio executives, named and anonymous, have suddenly transformed a fight the studios were spoiling for into a public relations war they cannot win.

Even as SAG-AFTRA representatives were seeing a majority of their demands rejected despite a nearly unanimous strike vote, a Deadline story quoted unnamed executives detailing a strategy to bleed striking writers until they come crawling back.

Days later, when an actors’ strike seemed imminent, Disney Chief Executive Bob Iger took time away from the Sun Valley Conference in Idaho not to offer compromise but to lecture. He told CNBC’s David Faber that the unions’ refusal to help out the studios by taking a lesser deal is “very disturbing to me.”

“There’s a level of expectation that they have that is just not realistic,” Iger said. “And they are adding to the set of the challenges that this business is already facing that is, quite frankly, very disruptive.”

If Iger thought his attempt to exec-splain the situation would make actors think twice about walking out, he was very much mistaken. Instead, he handed SAG-AFTRA President Fran Drescher the perfect opportunity for the kind of speech usually shouted atop the barricades.

“We are the victims here,” she said Thursday, marking the start of the actors’ strike. “We are being victimized by a very greedy entity. I am shocked by the way the people that we have been in business with are treating us. I cannot believe it, quite frankly: How far apart we are on so many things. How they plead poverty, that they’re losing money left and right, when giving hundreds of millions of dollars to their CEOs. It is disgusting. Shame on them. They stand on the wrong side of history at this very moment.”

Cue the cascading strings of “Les Mis,” bolstered by images of the most famous people on the planet walking out in solidarity: the cast of “Oppenheimer” leaving the film’s London premiere; the writers and cast of “The X-Files” reuniting on the picket line.

A few days later, Barry Diller, chairman and senior executive of IAC and Expedia Group and a former Hollywood studio chief, suggested that studio executives and top-earning actors take a 25% pay cut to bring a quick end to the strikes and help prevent “the collapse of the entire industry.”

When Diller is telling executives to take a pay cut to avoid destroying their industry, it is no longer a strike, or even two strikes. It is a last-ditch attempt to prevent le déluge.

Yes, during the 2007-08 writers’ strike, picketers yelled noncomplimentary things at executives as they entered their respective lots. (“What you earnin’, Chernin?” was popular at Fox, where Peter Chernin was chairman and chief executive.) But that was before social media made everything more immediate, incendiary and personal. (Even if they have never seen a movie or TV show, one would think that people heading up media companies would understand how media actually work.)

Even at the most heated moments of the last writers’ strike, executives like Chernin and Iger were seen as people who could be reasoned with — in part because most of the executives were running studios, not conglomerations, but mostly because the pay gap between executives and workers, in Hollywood and across the country, had not yet widened to the reprehensible chasm it has since.

Now, the massive eight- and nine-figure salaries of studio heads alongside photos of pitiably small residual checks are paraded across legacy and social media like historical illustrations of monarchs growing fat as their people starve. Proof that, no matter how loudly the studios claim otherwise, there is plenty of money to go around.

Topping that list is Warner Bros. Discovery Chief Executive Davd Zaslav. Having re-named HBO Max just Max and made cuts to the beloved Turner Classic Movies, among other unpopular moves, Zaslav has become a symbol of the cold-hearted, highly compensated executive that the writers and actors are railing against.

The ferocious criticism of individual executives’ salaries has placed Hollywood’s labor conflict at the center of the conversation about growing wealth disparities in the U.S., which stokes, if not causes, much of this country’s political divisions. It also strengthens the solidarity among the WGA and SAG-AFTRA and with other groups, from hotel workers to UPS employees, in the midst of disputes during what’s been called a “hot labor summer.”

Unfortunately, the heightened antagonism between studio executives and union members also appears to leave little room for the kind of one-on-one negotiation that helped end the 2007-08 writers’ strike. Iger’s provocative statement, and the backlash it provoked, would seem to eliminate him as a potential elder statesman who could work with both sides to help broker a deal.

Absent Diller and his “cut your damn salaries” plan, there are few Hollywood figures with the kind of experience, reputation and relationships to fill the vacuum.

At this point, the only real solution has been offered by actor Mark Ruffalo, who recently suggested that workers seize the means of production by getting back into the indie business, which is difficult to imagine and not much help for those working in television.

It’s the AMPTP that needs to heed Iger’s admonishment. At a time when the entertainment industry is going through so much disruption, two strikes is the last thing anyone needs, especially when the solution is so simple. If the studios don’t want a full-blown revolution on their hands, they’d be smart to give members of the WGA and SAG-AFTRA contracts they can live with."

#sag-aftra strike #sag strike #fans4wga #writers guild strike #actors guild strike #union solidarity #wga strong #i stand with the wga #wga strike #writers strike

7K notes · View notes

steddiealltheway · 4 months

Text

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays :) This is way longer than I thought it would be, but it's been a while since I've written, so I think I needed it. I hope you all have a wonderful end to your year <3

Steve thought it was fate when he reached into Dustin’s old Santa hat and picked up a crumpled piece of paper with Eddie’s name scribbled on it. He had a gift stored away for Eddie that he bought weeks ago, and he was hoping there would be some way to get it to him without making it a big deal or something. Miraculously, the tiny slip of paper gave him that chance.

Now, two weeks later, Steve feels like his nerves are on fire as everyone gathers around in his living room, waiting to receive their gifts.

He goes off to the guest bedroom where the party had dropped off their gifts under the bed with the promise of not peaking - per Steve's request. Mike complained that the system was a little bit much, and Steve couldn’t argue with him. He just didn’t want to give away that he was Eddie’s secret Santa.

And now that he has pulled all the gifts out from under the bed, his stomach churns and his heart races. He just hopes his gift doesn’t cross a line or bring up unwanted memories, especially since he and Eddie aren’t exactly best friends.

Well, okay, they’re close. Considering the number of times Dustin has insisted they all hang out now that they’ve all been trauma-bonded, Steve has spent a lot of time with Eddie. But he hasn’t gotten a lot of alone time with him.

Sure, there have been a few times when Eddie has stopped by work, but Robin was always close by - not that Steve minded at all, except he got tired of the looks she would give him after Eddie left as if she was expecting Steve to say something. He doesn’t know what exactly he would say, but he will admit that it was always sad watching Eddie go. Maybe he should tell Robin he wishes he could stay a little longer, maybe even after hours.

The thought reminds him of the one moment they spent alone that Steve can't help but recall often. Even his present to Eddie is based around that moment which resulted in him purchasing something definitely higher than the price limit, but none of the kids would know that so it’s fine.

There’s a light knock on the door behind him, and Steve turns around. “Hey,” Eddie says with a small smile. “Everything okay?”

Steve smiles back, willing his heartbeat to slow down a bit. “Yeah, just trying to figure out how to get them all at once.”

“Let me help,” Eddie says, already bending over to grab half the stack that Steve had pushed out from under the bed. “You don’t happen to have a Santa suit do you?”

Steve’s eyebrows furrow. “No?”

“Damn. Next year, okay? And I want to be Santa.”

The corner of Steve’s lip quirks up and Eddie's eyes light up, looking awfully proud of himself. The two hold the gaze for a few moments longer than they should, but it’s not like that's new to them.

“Guys! What’s the holdup?!” Dustin yells.

Steve sighs and offers Eddie a now irritated smile before leading the way to the living room, glancing down at the names on each present before handing them out. He and Eddie finish around the same time, and Steve notices there are two clear spots for them in the small circle on either side of Dustin. He almost makes a snarky comment to Dustin, but he holds his tongue, knowing Max and El will shoot them irritated glares if they start bickering.

"El, why don't you go first?" Steve suggests as he sits down, not giving the rest of the kids a chance to argue about it. After all, no one is going to protest after all that El did for them.

El smiles and carefully opens her gift, but Steve spaces out a bit, lost in thought about his gift and questioning if it will be an appropriate thing to bring up in front of the kids. Eddie had shared the moment only with Steve and even hesitated in doing so, so maybe he doesn't want it to be broadcast to the kids. Shit.

Steve snaps back to reality when El knee-scoots over to Dustin, pulling him into a tight hug and thanking him for her present. Dustin flushes an interesting shade of red that Steve is definitely going to bring up later when he himself isn't panicking. For now, he moves the game along. "Alright, Dustin gets to open his gift now since he was the Secret Santa," Steve announces, nervously glancing at Eddie, hoping the excited look doesn't mean the gift is from him. He's not sure if he's ready for Eddie to open his gift yet.

Luckily, the gift is from Lucas, and Steve breathes a sigh of relief. But as the game continues and more people unwrap their gifts, Steve finds himself getting a bit impatient as he waits for someone to get their gift from Eddie. It's only when Max is last to open her gift that Steve realizes that he and Eddie are the only two remaining which means...

"No way," Eddie says with a big grin. "We're the only two who got each other."

Steve slowly looks down at the gift in his hand, neatly wrapped with a beautifully done bow that seems so unlike Eddie who always seems to be in a rush, doing everything with an almost frantic energy that Steve kind of adores. He wonders what he must've been like sitting still, carefully folding each curve of newspaper and taping it all together before neatly tying the red ribbon around the box into a beautiful bow. "You did this?" Steve can't help but ask, hoping he didn't just stick his foot in his mouth.

"Yeah," Eddie says somewhat bashfully as he pulls his hair in front of his face. "You do the honors." Eddie gestures to Steve's present and nervously rambles, "It isn't much really..."

Steve carefully undoes each fold, seeing the care Eddie took in wrapping a small box that Steve pulls the lid off of. He stares down at a small metal-looking thing and picks it up off the paper it's on top of. He presses it and startles a bit as it buzzes.

"A hand buzzer," Dustin laughs in disbelief.

"Maybe you two need to hang out more," El suggests innocently.

Eddie clears his throat. "There's a note in there, too, but you don't have to read it out loud in front of the kids or anything."

Steve keeps ahold of the little buzzer and picks up the note, staring at a few numbers in confusion before following an arrow that elaborates 24/7 Walkie Channel - especially at night. Steve flushes a bit red at the joke, but as he reads further, he realizes it's not a joke at all. In fact, he knows exactly what this is referring to.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Eddie walks up to the counter of Family Video and raps his knuckles on the counter. "Now tell me, what exactly is behind that restricted section with the red curtains?"

Steve rubs his temples and gives Eddie an unimpressed look. "You know exactly what's behind there."

"Well, maybe I want to hear it from my favorite employee. After all, you're supposed to help me with all my needs."

"Alright," Robin announces loudly, "I'm taking my break."

Steve hears the break room door shut behind him, and he drops his head in his hands with a slight groan.

"That embarrassed, Harrington? I thought you were like the expert here. Especially since Robin isn't allowed back there, but..." Eddie trails off but suddenly his voice gets much closer yet softer. "Hey, sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Sometimes I push too far without realizing and-"

Steve cuts him off with a short wave of his hand. "It's not that. You're fine really. Just didn't really sleep last night."

"Company or..." Eddie goes for a joke to lighten the second half of what he's implying.

Steve sighs and glances up at him. "It the 'or' option."

Eddie gives him a sympathetic look and glances around at the empty store before leaning on the counter, right into Steve's space, but it's comforting rather than intrusive. Eddie softly says, "I get it, man. The night terrors are... they're intense. I still see Chrissy when she..." He looks away, swallows hard, and takes a deep breath. "I get it."

Steve glances up and sees a matching haunted look in Eddie's eyes that Steve catches in the mirror from time to time. "It's harder late at night. I get this urge to reach out to everyone and make sure they're okay and..." Steve sighs and lowers his voice, "still alive." He shudders slightly and laughs humorlessly, "But it's not like I can just call everyone's house at night and wake up them and their family. I usually just wait for the urge to pass but it's harder for me with some people." Steve swallows hard, knowing what Eddie will ask next.

"Like who?"

Steve glances up at Eddie and says, "Robin of course because she's my best friend. Max is tough too because of how close she was to dying and you just never know if that thing will come back or not."

"He's gone for good this time. You know what Owens said," Eddie presses gently.

"Yeah, but I've heard it before," Steve argues. But he can't deny that things definitely feel more final now. Like maybe they're finally over. Still, he can't just let his guard down on the off chance that his gut isn't right for once.

Eddie shifts and nudges Steve's elbow with his own. "Anyone else though?"

Steve holds Eddie's gaze for a moment, and he sees the exact moment Eddie knows exactly what he's thinking as the memories of Eddie's lifeless body in Steve's arms flood in his head. "You were... gone there for a little while. And sometimes I wake up, and I think that you didn't make it. That the nightmare I keep having is actually reality."

Eddie gives him a pained look and places his hand over Steve's. "You can call me at any time. Day or night. I'll try my best to answer, especially at night."

"Eddie, I don't want to make you lose sleep any more than you already are."

"But I'm probably already awake. And I don't care if I lose sleep for you, okay?"

Steve glances up at him and flushes a bit as his eyes flicker down to Eddie's lips. For a moment, he thinks he might understand what Robin's looks mean, but he glances away before he can truly think about it. "That's not the only problem though," Steve confesses quietly.

Eddie just squeezes his hand, waiting for him to elaborate.

With a deep breath, Steve hooks his thumb on top of Eddie's pinky and squeezes back for some support. "I hate speaking in that empty house. My voice seems to echo, and it makes me feel more alone than I already am. And sometimes it feels impossible to speak about things. Like my voice doesn't work or something. I don't know."

"I get it," Eddie says simply, squeezing his hand again. "But really, if you ever need to call or stop by or anything. I'll be there." Steve holds Eddie's gaze, thinking maybe the upcoming night won't be so bad.

Before Steve can really say anything else, the bell on the front door dings loudly and he and Eddie practically jump apart. The customer doesn't even so much as glance at them, but they both still keep their distance, recognizing that the moment is over.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Steve stares at the little list in the note.

One Buzz: Checking in. I will buzz back so you know I'm okay. Two Buzzes: If you need to hear my voice. I will respond over the walkie and talk for as long as you like. Buzz multiple times, and I'll stop. And trust me, I will talk your ear off, so I won't get offended when you buzz. Three Buzzes: If you need me to call ever. Don't be afraid to use this one. Wayne is still working night shifts, so you're really no bother if you want to call first. But this way, I can be the one calling you so you don't have to worry about waking me up or anything. Really. The buzzes aren't too loud, so they shouldn't wake me up. Let me know if you want to add anything to this list. I have an identical list with my hand buzzer at home that I would be happy to add to at any time. Merry Christmas Love, Your Secret Santa

Steve stares at the note in his hand almost too stunned to speak. He doesn't think he's ever received a more thoughtful gift in his life. He pinches at his nose and tries to shut his emotions down a bit, and Eddie must catch on because he loudly announces, "My turn!"

Steve takes a deep breath, forgetting entirely about the gift he got Eddie. He watches as Eddie tears the wrapping paper off the small box then dramatically and very slowly opens it up with a big smile, knowing he has the kids' impatient attention practically in the palm of his hand. But when he finally sees the gift, his smile and whole act drop as a look of realization crosses over his face.

Steve's heart pounds in his chest.

Eddie slowly removes the little glass bottle filled with brown liquid and silently stares at it.

"What is that? Some type of fancy bourbon?" Max asks with a scoff.

Steve watches Eddie's eyes get slightly glassy, and he's quick to announce, "Something like that. But alright, we have to move on before your families start coming to pick you up. Was a snowball fight next on your cheesy list or something?"

Dustin is quick to defend the list the group came up with, but Steve is quicker in pushing them all toward the front door. "I'll be there in a bit. Eddie and I have to clean up."

The kids all rush to put on their coats and shoes, not wanting to be a part of any type of cleanup. Once they run outside, Steve closes the door and rushes back to the living room where Eddie's still staring at the bottle, a single tear going down his face. "You... you remembered... and you... you got... how?"

"Of course, I remembered," Steve says, thinking of what Eddie told him months ago.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Steve sighs and stuffs more things into a box from Eddie's closet. Dr. Owen's people had finally given the trailer the all-clear, so they were finally able to get the remainder of Eddie's and Wayne's things out of there. Of course, the kids had spent about an hour helping with the living room before taking a very very long break at Max's place. Steve assumes it will be lasting until the rest of the trailer is cleared out.

"They're great help, aren't they?" Eddie jokes as he brings another box into the room.

"Absolutely. Always willing to lend a hand. That is until they decide that the adults can just slave away for them."

"Someone needs to give them a lecture," Eddie sighs, pulling out a pile of clothes from his closet.

Steve scoots the box over and asks, "And why does that person always seem to be me? Especially when they don't listen to me."

"You're just so motherly," Eddie says with a big smile, dimples on full display.

Steve can't help but smile at the sight. And luckily he's staring his way when Eddie picks up another stack of clothes and suddenly hurdles something Steve's way. And even luckier, Steve's reflexes are quick, so he's able to easily catch the smaller glass bottle.

Eddie's eyes widen and he quickly grabs at the bottle, wrapping his hands around Steve's in the process. "Jesus H. Christ." Eddie's grip tightens as he stares at the bottle and breathes a sigh of relief, dropping his head to Steve's shoulder. "Have I ever told you that I'm so glad you're a jock?"

Steve snorts. "No, but whatever in this bottle must be important enough for you to admit it. So, tell me, what's in it? Alcohol? Some type of weird liquid drug?"

Eddie pulls back and looks away, still cradling the bottle and Steve's hands. "It's nothing. Just, hold it gently while I find another shirt to wrap it in."

Steve gently grasps the bottle and brings it closer, inspecting what it could be when he's hit with a bit of deja vu. He tests his suspicions and carefully removes the cap. "Eddie, why do you have an almost empty bottle of perfume in your closet?"

Eddie turns to him and asks, "Please, don't tell me you sprayed it."

"I didn't. The cap just gave it away."

Eddie quickly takes the bottle from his hand and puts the cap back on. "It's nothing. Like I said." He rolls it carefully in a t-shirt and places it in the box.

Steve slowly approaches and looks down at the box, frowning when he sees it start to blend in with the other pile of clothes in there. "I'll be right back," Steve announces before running out to his car. He opens the trunk and sighs, grabbing a shoe box and carefully placing his emergency date shoes in the corner of the trunk before taking the box inside.

When he gets back to the room, he reaches into the bigger box, fishes the shirt-wrapped perfume out, and places it gently into the shoe box before setting it aside. Steve glances up and notices Eddie staring at him. "Is that the emergency date shoe box?"

Steve is going to give the kids or Robin a lecture later about giving away people's personal information. "Yes," he admits.

"So, where are the shoes?"

"In my trunk," Steve says, moving onto Eddie closet to grab the last of the clothes.

Eddie pauses before asking, "You put your emergency date shoes the kids told me to never touch in your trunk to give me a box for my perfume?"

Steve shrugs. "Yeah." He stuffs everything down and closes the box, pushing it toward the door. But he's stopped by Eddie's hand on his arm.

"Why?" Eddie asks.

Steve straightens up and puts his hands on his hips. "It's clearly important to you, and I wasn't going to let you forget about it and accidentally throw it again when I'm not there to catch it."

Eddie holds his gaze for a few moments and Steve almost breaks the eye contact, not used to having Eddie's attention directly solely at him. But he feels like that will change in the future.

Eddie shifts and places a hand on Steve's back, leading him to where he placed the box. He picks it up and opens it, slowly unraveling the perfume and staring at it as if debating if he wants to share the story with Steve.

Steve just waits, not wanting to pressure him. Instead, he lets the moment play out.

Eddie breathes out, "It was my mom's."

It hits Steve all at once the implication of the phrase.

"She would wear it all the time. I remember she would put it on once in the morning, once in the afternoon, and once before going to bed. I told her it was silly to do that before bed, but she told me it was only silly if I let it be." Eddie smiles at the memory before growing distant in his expression. "When she got sick, she started forgetting the time more and more. So, I would remind her. And toward the end, I started putting it on her when she felt too weak to spray it."

Steve shifts and lightly rests his hand on Eddie's back as he continues, "I told my dad that she should be buried with it. That she would want to have it with her and wear it all the time." Eddie's voice cracks a bit and he clears his throat. "He told me that was silly."

Steve shifts closer to Eddie so their sides are pressing together, trying to give him physical support because he's unsure of what to say.

Eddie shakes his head and smiles sadly. "I kept it since then. And I used to spray it all the time, and god, the guys at school would make fun of me for smelling like girl's perfume, but I didn't care. But maybe I should've listened to them because now I only have this much left." He holds up the bottle to emphasize his point, the perfume so low that it seems to barely cover the bottom of the glass.

"One time, I brought it to a perfume store to ask what brand it was. I thought maybe I could save up and buy another one." Eddie shakes his head again. "But the lady accused me of stealing it. She said there was no way I would've been able to afford it in the first place. That there was no reason for me to even have it unless I was looking for a cheap buck to make."

Steve's grip on Eddie's back presses a little firmer as he feels anger and disgust toward the woman overflood his system. "That's fucked up."

"A bit, yeah," Eddie agrees. He glances at Steve, and Steve realizes how close they are, but he doesn't try to move away. "Do you want to smell it?"

Steve's brows furrow. "Eddie, there's barely any left in there, don't waste it on me."

Eddie smiles somewhat bashfully. "No, it's alright. I haven't used it in a long time, and after everything we went through, I need the reminder."

"If you're sure, then yes. I would love that."

Eddie holds out his wrist and lightly sprays the perfume. He uses his other wrist to rub it in before he holds it up to Steve's nose. Steve takes a deep breath and is suddenly taken back to a vague memory from a Christmas years and years ago when Steve was too young to succumb to the disappointment from his parents who were still around. But it's a happy memory nonetheless.

"What do you think?" Eddie asks.

Steve smiles softly. "I think your mom had great taste. And it smells really beautiful. I wish I could've met her."

"Me too," Eddie replies softly, staring at the bottle.

-:-:-:-:-:-

"My mom had the same one. Years ago it was gifted to her. I ended up finding the bottle in one of the drawers in her bathroom. It was still in the box, so it wasn't too difficult to find at the store," Steve admits. He holds out his hand and says, "Here. I have to show you something."

Eddie carefully places the perfume back in the box and takes Steve's hand, following him up the stairs and into his room. Steve regrettably lets go of Eddie's hand to pull out a box from under his own bed. He holds it up to Eddie who gasps, "Steve, this must have cost you a fortune."

Steve glances down at the five boxes of perfume and shrugs. "There was a Christmas sale. Plus, I was able to use my Harrington charm a bit."

Eddie grabs the box and carefully sets it on Steve's bed before quickly wrapping his arms around Steve and pulling him in close. "Thank you. God, this is the best gift I've ever gotten."

Steve squeezes him tight. "Same with yours."

They remain in each other's arms for a few moments, not rushing the embrace or questioning how long they're allowed to linger. Only, when Steve starts pulling away, he starts questioning his next move. Because more than anything he wants to kiss Eddie.

The realization hits him hard. He knows exactly now what Robin's glances mean and what she's been expecting him to say. Of course, deep down he knew, but he just hadn't had to face it head-on yet. But here he is and... "Eddie," Steve says softly, lingering in his space.

"Steve," Eddie replies quietly, eyes flickering down to Steve's lips, already knowing what he means.

Steve takes a deep breath, feeling his heart pound in his chest as he asks, "Can I?"

"Hell yes," Eddie replies.

They both move together at the same time, meeting each other in a gentle kiss which they linger in. Steve moves away to breathe and shifts to cup Eddie's face with his hands and bring him in again. He kisses him with all he has, filled with the awe of the thoughtful gift he received, joy of the gift well received, and the overwhelming feeling that this is right.

Steve breaks the kiss with a smile and whispers, "Merry Christmas, Eddie."

"Merry Christmas, Steve," Eddie says breathlessly before kissing him again.

And it really is a merry Christmas.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #merry christmas #steddie christmas

2K notes · View notes

steddieas-shegoes · 4 months

Text

AU where Steve has decent parents. They aren’t great, but they’re not bad. They show up for major things and tell him they love him, but they don’t understand him. They don’t get that he needs more than that.

So Steve’s nanny keeps in contact with him even after she’s let go because “Steve doesn’t need looking after” at the age of 10. She checks in with him all the time.

Ms. Munson is always bringing him a dish from her own dinner with her brother and son, making sure he has someone at the awards days at school, makes sure he has gifts at Christmas that he’ll actually like.

But she never invites him to her home and it doesn’t hit him until his senior year of high school that she’s Eddie Munson’s mom, that they live in the trailer park that he was never allowed to go to, that her brother must be Wayne, who took him fishing once when he got his heart broken by his first girlfriend.

He’s a different person now, but not to Eddie.

As time goes on, and he experiences more trauma than any single person should, and he gets Robin as a platonic soulmate, he realizes that Ms. Munson still shows up. His parents don’t bother much anymore, but she does.

And two days before spring break of ‘86, she sends Eddie to Steve’s house with a care package.

When Steve shuffles through the items, he nearly chokes on his own spit when he finds a bag of pre-rolled joints.

Eddie comes up with excuses, brushes it off as just a friendly gesture for someone his mom cares so much about.

But Steve won’t hear it. He asks him to stay and smoke one with him, take the edge off since he’s been dealing with midterms.

They get high on his back patio, talking and laughing late into the night, so late that Eddie almost worries he’ll have to go to school in his clothes from the day before.

Steve won’t hear it, offers his shower and his “most metal” clothes- his only black jeans and a plain white t-shirt with the sleeves cut off- and says he can sleep there for the couple of hours left before school.

Eddie wakes up to Steve making coffee and toast, using the jam his mom had included in the care package and a smile that made Eddie’s cynical heart flop in his chest.

Eddie didn’t think the next time he saw Steve would be when he was holding a broken bottle to his neck, terrified of everything and everyone, but the moment they had a second alone, Steve hugged him close.

“It’s a shit way to be welcomed into the group officially, but I’m glad you’re not alone.”

Steve and Eddie were inseparable while fighting Vecna, both of them insistent on protecting the kids.

When Steve managed to get Eddie to the motel the Munsons were staying in after El managed to get rid of Vecna, Ms. Munson was standing at the door with tears in her eyes.

“My boys.”

She patched them up, better than any doctor probably would have, giving them small kisses on the head when they winced in pain.

And eventually, she tucked them into one of the beds in the room, ignoring how they hadn’t stopped holding hands for the entire night.

She’d been hesitant to introduce them; Eddie, for all his talk of accepting people for who they are, struggled to accept how much she did for Steve, not understanding why he may need it.

But it seemed like she didn’t need to force anything. They found their way together in the end.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #idk idk idk I just think life has a lot of weird intricacies and sometimes we are connected in ways we don’t know until one tiny thing #happens and suddenly we realize #and I think in any universe Steve and Eddie would find a way #headcanon

1K notes · View notes

euphoricfilter · 1 year

Text

Stardust || JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x F. Reader

Genre: Fluff || Smut || Friends to Lovers au

Summary: If Jungkook would have known an unintentional orgasm would have led to this, then he would have begged you to work out with him sooner.

Word Count: 5.5k

Tags/ warnings: himbo-ish jk, so much fluff idk where it came from, smut in the forms of: unintentional masturbation turned coregasm, oral (f. receiving), fingering, protected sex (because that’s really cool), mirror sex, doggy style, technically multiple orgasms, they’re both giggly and in love it’s kinda gross, jk is a tits man, he’s obsessed with boobs, it’s all very tame and kinda soft ig

Notes: yay first fic of 2023. this was way harder to write than i’d anticipated, hopefully i pulled through. and if there’s mistakes, no there aren’t!

<3 thank you to my prettiest baby @4amj3zz for reading this atrocity before i posted it

my full masterlist

✯ ✯ ✯

If every living being’s foundation is made of stardust, scattered when born, then Jungkook thinks the two of you were made from the same star.

A friendship that’s near impossible to come by, crafted by the hands of a higher being— delicate fingertips moulding fickle personalities and emotions that seem incomplete when not together. Two angels sent to earth to be each others’ number one in another life they’ll spend together.

Precious, like naturally formed diamonds.

And maybe that’s what your friendship was, one of the world’s little treasures. One everyone yearns for, though only a select few have.

Sure, diamonds can be replicated, graphite turned jewelry, simply there for show. A statement piece if you must.

Fake diamonds and fake friendships that seem to be more common than the real deal. Hard to crack, though not impossible— splitting the two of you up into pitiful shards and lost pieces; where even the most skilled hands have trouble putting it back together.

Jungkook doesn’t remember life before you. Though he thinks it must have been dull, flimsy smiles, and friends that hadn’t bothered to call once they moved away.

His existence so easily forgotten, that the gnawing sadness didn’t seem to last as long as he’d anticipated. Simply walking the path of life alone, though he often thought solitude wasn’t all that bad.

Until your worlds had collided. The big bang of your friendship, a new world, a new start, everything so fresh and untampered with.

He’d thought about what life would be like if one day the two of you were to ever part ways, the very thought of you not being by his side like a harsh punch the gut.

And maybe he had gotten a little teary eyed on those evenings he felt a little softer, a little sadder at the thought of you ever leaving. His hands fumbling around his sheets for his phone, your voice his only remedy for his growing anxiety, where promises were whispered and sleepy smiles remained on your faces as you rested.

Jungkook doubts that day will ever come. And maybe that’s all just wishful thinking, a juvenile dream that the promise you’d made to one another would hold strong for the rest of time, until the two of you lay six feet under. Resting side by side until your bodies rot, flesh becoming one with the earth, what is left of your existence blossoming into something beautiful; perhaps a tree, a flower, truly anything, as long as you were together.

“Together?” you blink up at Jungkook through your lashes, eyebrows creasing in distaste.

Jungkook thinks you look pretty in that moment, even if you are pulling a face at him. The two of you sat at a bench in the park, your head haloed by the setting sun, last of the days warmth kissing both your skin in a gentle goodbye before the moon watches over the two of you.

Littles galaxies reflected in both your eyes, where Jungkook thinks each star in his represents one thing he loves about you; hidden behind the moonlight because he doubt yours represent the same.

“Yes” he nods, hair flopping a little over his forehead, and you push the stray strands out of his eyes. Fingers delicate as they brush over his skin, always so gentle with him that his heart flutters like the delicate wings of a butterfly.

“Kook, I love you— you know I do” and he nods, lips quirking up a little, “But working out just, isn’t for me” you conclude, tone firm and his shoulders deflate. Because he knows it’ll take more than glossy puppy eyes and a pout for you to give in.

“First off, I love you too—“

“Thank you” you nod. But Jungkook doesn’t think you understand the weight behind those words.

“And look, how do you know it’s not for you, if you’ve never tried?”

“You put me off” and Jungkook would have thought you were joking if you didn’t have that deadpan look on your face. One he was all too familiar with.

“Huh” he gawks, “How?”

“You always complain about sore muscles, and the thought of being sweaty grosses me out” your head tips forward dramatically, cushioned by your arms from the table.

“It’s a good ache” he watches you turn your head, lips moulded into an unconvinced pout as you stare up at him through your lashes.

“There is no such thing as a good ache, Jungkook”

“Is too”

“When?” you flail, unbothered as Jungkook’s hands wrap around your wrists.

“Sex ache”

You pause, “Excuse me?”

“You know?” he cocks his head to the side.

“No” you shake your head in utter disbelief.

Jungkook’s mouth falls open, “You’re a little pillow princess aren’t you, I bet you don’t do any of the work”

“Do too, besides—“ you swallow, “It’s none of your business” you pull your hands free of his grasp.

“Come on, I feel like we’re at a point in this relationship we can share these things” his cheek rests atop of your head, each syllable pulled out into a whine.

“I don’t wanna hear about your sex life, Jungkook” you huff.

You watch him sit up ramrod straight, brain whirring behind his eyes. You think that if he thought any harder you’d be able to hear the echo of his voice.

“Actually, I don’t really wanna hear about yours either” his nose scrunches up, melting your resolve.

A secret charm of his that he didn’t know he had; and you’d never tell him either, no way in hell would you let him weaponize your weakness against you when your heart could barely stand being sat so close to him.

“Best friends don’t always share everything” you quip, only it leaves a tangy taste on your tongue.

“I suppose” Jungkook nods, evidently less enthusiasm radiating off him.

Best friends. It always wet your mood. Like sour candy that’s too sour, or a cute dog that’s breath smells like a rotting carcass.

But that’s what you were, introductions to new classmates or new lovers; it was always best friends. Two simple words that felt like utter shit to say, tumbling past your lips like vomit and then you had to rawdog the aftertaste because you don’t have any toothpaste or mints nearby.

Never anything less, even though there was definitely a lot more going on between the two of you. (Not that either of you had any idea about that.)

It’s a wonder as to how neither of you had grasped the fact that every previous relationship the two of you had, had ended because of the other. Nothing ever seeming to fit in place, the click never being there when it came to someone else.

Communication is key in upholding a relationship of any kind, issues easily resolved with hours of conversation turned mutual understanding, and progression made with a mix of both actions and words. As two people whose love languages were physical touch, the former is just as important as the latter.

One of the only reasons your friendship has lasted this long, is that you both value each other enough to communicate when necessary.

Apart from when you could probably really use it, unidentifiable emotions weaving into your hearts, mixed with a dose of denial can really set you back when you’re near infatuated with your closest friend.

It’s not that either of you had never considered a relationship with one another, others outside your little bubble had brought it up enough times that the meager possibility of it actually happening had been cemented into your thick skulls.

Something nice tickling both your brains at the fact so many people thought you were together together; like, in love together.

Long gone were the days where you’d blurt out your denial to dating accusations with rose dusted cheeks, simply believing the world had a thing against opposite sex friendships. Now, the two of you just laughed off whoever liked to comment on how good you looked as a couple. (Which had brought more than a few of Jungkook’s relationships to turmoil)

It’s just that neither of you believed the other wanted anything more than friendship. A rookie mistake on both your parts, especially when you’d both establish that every and all emotions were to be discussed with one another, no matter what you felt.

“One time” you break the silence, any way to ease the growing tension between the two of you “I’ll work out with you one time. And never again”

You watch the smile as it pulls at the corner of his lips, the prettiest smile, your favorite smile, enough of a reward for whatever pain you’re about to put yourself through. Because as long as Jungkook was happy, then you’d crawl to the ends of the earth if it meant you got to see this smile one more time.

“I love you” he bends down, sloppy kiss pressed to your cheek and you can’t help your own smile, heated cheeks covered as you swat him away from your face. Wiping his saliva from your skin with the back of your hand.

“Whatever” you tut, though Jungkook sees through your faux annoyance.

“We can use my at-home gym as well, so we won’t even be in public”

“Wonderful. Let’s go back now, I’m gonna freeze my tits off if we stay any later”

You don’t catch Jungkook’s gaze flickering down to your chest, lingering a little longer than proper before he’s slinging his zip-up hoodie around your shoulders. Eyes flickering down to his hands briefly before he’s knocking shoulders with you.

“Chivalry isn’t dead” you utter, falling into Jungkook’s side when his arm falls over your shoulder.

✯ ✯ ✯

Jeon Jungkook was sex on legs when he worked out.

You were no stranger to him training, countless vacations together, where the morning was spent with him doing press-up on the balcony or the occasional few times he’d bench-press you for a laugh.

You’d never found it funny though, pussy throbbing between your thighs as he’d grab onto you, arms flexing deliciously. And he never seemed to question why you’d lock yourself up in your room after, purely a coincidence that you’d disappear for an hour after his little stunt.

You were no stranger to a half naked Jungkook either.

Nor were you a juvenile teenager whose panties got in a twist when she saw a toned stomach.

However, this wasn’t just any toned stomach.

Jeon Jungkook was built like Adonis. Carved where every crevice had meaning and every flaw only enhanced his beauty. And it’s hard to think the bushy haired, acne prone teen boy you’d first befriended had turned into this.

If puberty had benefited anyone, it was Jungkook.

“We’ll do something easy today, okay?” he claps and you nod, watching as he saunters over to a basket.

“Pink or blue” he holds up two yoga mats.

“I didn’t think you were into rhinestones” you snort, sun catching on the bedazzled rim of the pink mat— streaks of pink painting the wall.

Jungkook drops said mat, chucking you the blue one before he’s dropping to his knees on the floor.

“It’s one of my exes” he tells you, motioning for you to sit.

If people were flowers, then this is the moment you would have wilted. Deflating in on yourself; it’s not that you were jealous per-say. It’s not like him and his ex were dating at all but still. The very mention of her was enough for you to roll your eyes.

“And you didn’t throw it out?” the words hurdle out your mouth before you can even think about what you’re saying.

“No?” his eyes meet your own, “I’m not throwing away good gym equipment”

You sigh, somehow expecting no less from him. Jungkook was a man of many skills, and he’d hounded you to try hobby after hobby with him— but nothing got him going like a good work out. If all other passion in life disappeared then he would still have working out as his escape.

You sigh, “I have somewhere to be later, so let’s hurry this up” a little white lie, but that never hurt anyone.

“You’re not going on another one of those shitty blind dates, are you?” he groans and you whine.

“I told you, I’m never going on any of those ever again”

“You better not” he unrolls his mat, and you follow.

“Or what?” you turn your nose up at him and Jungkook’s foot collides with your thigh.

“On your back, you brat.”

✯ ✯ ✯

“How much more” you flop against the mat, eyes closing.

“That was only the warm up” Jungkook hums, pushing himself up off the floor.

You hear him walk to the other side of the room, cupboard door creaking open as he rummages around for something.

You peek up at him through your lashes when he throws a towel over your back.

“Roll that up” he motions towards it, coming to sit beside you, “And up onto your back again”

Your eyes widen by a fraction when he gently takes the towel out of your hands, pushing your knees apart before he’s closing them; towel stuffed between your thighs.

Your gaze travels down the length of your body, thighs twitching as Jungkook’s fingers wrap around your ankles.

“All you have to do is raise your legs like this okay?” and he demonstrates, making sure to keep your legs straight as he lifts them to a ninety degree angle from your torso. “Leg raises should be easy, even for you” he hums.

“What’s that supposed to mean” you snap, ready to push yourself up, except Jungkook’s hands press down over your chest.

“Hey! No complaining”

You swallow thickly, aware of Jungkook’s eyes on you as you raise your legs on your own this time.

“Pretty good, remember to tense your core when you do it, okay?”

You nod, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you do as you’re told.

Your eyes squeeze shut, body hyper aware of each small movement the towel has right over your clit. Pussy throbbing inside your panties and you worry your slick had started to soak through your shorts.

Jungkook doesn’t seem to take notice of your growing predicament, hands hovering over your calf to make sure you’re raising your legs all the way. Though that’s the least of your worries as you feel each new wave of unadulterated pleasure pulse through your core.

“Not so bad huh?” he grins.

It’s a strange sensation, pure arousal ebbing up your body, every brush of your panties over your clit, weight of the towel over your slit slowly bringing you to the precipice of an orgasm.

“I don’t think—“ you start, cutting yourself off with an arm covering your face at a particularly intense wave of arousal. Your stomach tightening at the feeling.

“Just a few more, you’re doing great”

“Kook, I really don’t think—“ your hand clamps over your mouth as Jungkook’s fingers take hold of your legs, helping you raise them; and that’s all it takes to tip you over the edge. And you can’t help the surprised moan that drips off your lips.

Your knees bend, nudging against your tits as your hand falls over your sodden pussy, dull wave of your orgasm throbbing throughout your body.

Jungkook looks down at you, eyes wide as you simply lay there with your hands between your legs.

“Did you just piss yourself?” he asks, mouth falling open in awe.

“What the fuck?” you cry, “I just came you idiot”

Jungkook’s cheeks flush red, “Oh” he nods, “Oh. You had a— holy shit”

“Don’t look at me like that” your eyes glaze over with tears, heat prickling up your body in embarrassment, “I didn’t mean to, it just happened”

Your feet fall to the floor, towel falling from between your thighs as you let out a stuttered breath, body still buzzing with the after affects or your surprise orgasm.

“Jungkook?” you peek up at him through hooded eyes, heart pattering so hard in your chest you could feel it in your throat.

Jungkook’s eyes meet your own, “That was so fucking hot” he groans, “Looked so pretty”

You watch as his hand rubs over his shorts, his own arousal hard to hide as his head tips back in a way that extenuates his neck.

“Huh?” your eyes widen, willing yourself to not look at what his hands were doing.

“Should have known something like this would have turned you on”

“I wasn’t even turned on” you exasperate, “I clenched my core like you said and it just happened”

“Mhmm” and you can tell he’s unconvinced.

“Stop rubbing your dick, you horny piece of shit” you clamp a hand over your eyes, thighs clenching when he lets out a deep groan.

“Can’t help it” he lets out a sigh, “I’ve been dreaming of what you’d look like when you came, shame it wasn’t on my cock”

Your hand falls from your eyes, “Dreaming?”

“God, haven’t I made it obvious?” he asks, his own hands falling to his sides, though now you have a full view of his straining erection.

“Made what obvious?” you whisper.

“That I like you” he asks and you gawk at him.

“You, like me? I’ve been trying to hint that I like you” you point at him, mouth falling open in disbelief.

“Huh?” it’s Jungkook’s turn for furrowed brows, “I swear you didn’t like me”

“I could have sworn you didn’t like me”

Jungkook snorts, “When did I ever say that?”

“You’re unbelievable”

“Me? What about you?”

Your body lays flaccid, muscles loose; heart hammering in your ears as Jungkook leans back on his hands.

“How long?” you ask, not daring to look up at him.

“High school”

You push a palm into the socket of your eye, low groan rumbling up your throat, “I’ve liked you since, I don’t know, probably high school as well”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, voice soft and you can feel yourself tearing up— so many emotions plaguing your mind at once you don’t know how to feel.

Jungkook scoots closer to you, “I could say the same thing about you” you huff.

“Why’re you crying” he frowns, thumb gentle as it brushes against your damp cheek.

“We wasted so many years. I seriously thought— you’ve had so many girlfriends”

“Because I thought you didn’t feel the same, I guess I thought my feelings would go away if I gave my heart to someone else. And then you started dating around too and I really thought I’d never have a chance”

“Me too” you sigh, nose scrunching up in distaste for all your failed relationships.

“Guess it didn’t work out for either of us huh?” he hums and you nod.

“I think we’re both stupid” you murmur.

And Jungkook nods, “I agree”

“What do we do now?” you push yourself up onto your elbows, frown on your face.

“Can I kiss you?” Jungkook’s head hovers over your own, the sun meeting the moon at the same point in the sky— your eclipse. The rest of your world suddenly shrouded in darkness, all you can see, think, smell, everything just Jungkook.

You nod, eyes flitting across his face as his arms cage your head. You can see his biceps flexing in your peripherals, thick muscle straining under the weight of his torso.

Jungkook’s lips hover over your own, a breaths width away from touching. You tilt your head up, pillowy lips cushioning your own and that’s when everything falls into place.

There’s nothing desperate about the kiss, ever so gentle and slow, the two of you aware that lost time can be made up in the future as you simply bask in this moment; your worlds aligning, tilting on the same axis, everything just perfect and right, and your hearts beating in sync, and breathing stuttered as you both pull away with hesitance.

Your hands cup Jungkook’s cheeks, eyes searching his own for anything, just something to tell you this wasn’t all a dream— that he really did like you back.

“You’re so pretty, you know?” he whispers, his lips pressing a featherlight kiss to the corner of your lips.

“No” you smile, giggle bubbling up your throat and Jungkook can’t help but grin down at you.

“I’ll tell you every day, all the time. You’ll get sick of me”

“I could never get sick of you, Jungkook” you push yourself up onto your elbows, noses bumping.

He tilts his head, kiss firm, and you moan as his tongue licks at the seam of your lips, a silent plea for access.

You oblige, arms slung over his shoulders as you bring his body closer to your own, heat radiating off the two of you in thick waves.

“You taste so good” he groans, hands wandering down your body, teasing as they pull up the hem of your hoodie, “Want this off”

Your fingers tug at the offending material, dragging it up your body, “Hang on” you pull away from the kiss, and Jungkook feels his cock twitch at the sight of you. Red swollen lips, a sheen of his saliva coating them.

You pull your hoodie over your head, throwing it somewhere, a problem for later. Thighs clenching as Jungkook stares down at you— eyes wandering.

“And this” his fingers skim over the edge of your sports bra, dancing over your skin, mapping you out of every little spot he wants to kiss.

You hesitate.

“We don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable” Jungkook’s smile is gentle, retracting his hands and you want to whine at the loss of contact.

“I want to” you tell him, hoping the shake in your voice didn’t sound too unconvincing. The incessant throbbing between your legs wouldn’t go away unless Jungkook helped you out and your patience was slowly wearing thin.

“But?” he urges.

“I’m nervous” you admit and he smiles; reassuring.

“How can I help?”

You squirm under his gaze, fizzling embarrassment painting your cheeks red, “Can we both—“ you cut yourself off with a whine.

“Come on, gotta use your words, my love”

“Can we both get naked” you splutter, “At the same time?”

Jungkook’s head falls back, fully belly laugh wracking through his body, “Of course”

You tug your shorts off, Jungkook following you; a pile of both your clothes laying forgotten by your head. You’re too distracted tugging your sports bra off to see Jungkook’s length slap against his stomach. Tip of his cock an angry red, his fingers barely touching his shaft as he closes them around the length.

“Oh” he croons, “How pretty. Can I touch you?”

You nod, falling onto your back.

Jungkook’s careful as he touches you, thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples, testing the waters as he tugs at them, eliciting a breathy moan from you.

“Feels good?” his voice low, and you nod; hips involuntarily bucking upwards when you finally cast a glance at his length. Eyes widening a little in awe.

His fingers dig into your flesh, and he bends down, lips closing around one of your nipples. Your back arches, mouth falling open in a silent moan as his teeth nip at the sensitive skin; tugging in a way that sends warm pleasure straight to your core.

He kisses over your chest, lips worshipping your skin, fingers skimming over the underside of your boob.

Each gentle press of his lips are searing as he works down your body. And your breath hitches as his hovers over your pussy, folds glistening with your arousal.

“Oh baby” he groans, and your thighs twitch as his warm breath fans over your core.

Your fingers tangle into his hair, impatient as they tug him closer to where you need him; an embarrassed whine falling past your lips when he kisses over you clit, once, then twice.

“Jungkook” you squeak, legs tensing when he finally wraps his lips around it, tongue flicking at your clit meanly.

He simply hums, vibrations sending a new wave of pleasure straight through your body, another gush of wetness dribbling from your hole. Jungkook wastes no time, fingers scooping up your leaking arousal before he’s pushing them into you.

“Oh” your chest stutters a breath as he pulls his fingers out of you, tongue licking a broad stripe over your cunt before his thumb brushes over your clit.

“You like that?” he asks, though the question was rhetorical as he repeats the motion. Tongue teasing over your hole before he’s lapping up your slick; sucking at your folds, squelching lewd accompanied by each hearty moan.

Your thighs start to shake, clamping around Jungkook’s head though that barely deters him, as he pushes your legs open by your knees.

“Stop. Kook— please” you whimper, “wanna cum around your cock”

That catches his attention, and with one final kiss to your clit he’s pushing himself onto his elbows.

Jungkook looks like the epitome of sin, slick stained chin and swollen red lips, unashamed as he licks your arousal off his face, humming in satisfaction as your chest stutters out a breath.

“Lemme get a condom” he murmurs, lips pressing another kiss over your knee before he’s pushing himself to stand. Your eyes follow his body, heavy cock bobbing against his stomach with every step he takes.

“Hopefully they’re not expired” he calls from the other room, and you giggle at that, “We’re good” he flashes you a grin as he drops back between your legs; foil wrapper held between two fingers.

You watch his fingers run down his length, thumb brushing over his slit and you feel slick dribble out of your hole as a bead of pre-cum coats the head of his cock shiny.

“Please” your head tips back, hands impatient as they tug at your nipples; Jungkook completely entranced by the sight. “Hurry, hurry” you nudge his thigh with your foot, and albeit reluctant, he tears his eyes away from your tits.

He rips the condom open with his teeth, a cheesy attempt at seducing you, and you weren’t about to tell him all he had to do was breathe and you panties would dampen.

He rolls the rubber down his length, fingers wrapping around his cock as he tugs a few times. You choose that moment to flip yourself over, hips raised as your chest lays flat against the floor and Jungkook moans.

“My pretty baby” he croons, hands roaming your ass before he’s pulling your cheeks apart; eyes fixed on your clenching cunt. Ever so enticing, silently begging to be filled and fucked until you can’t think or walk; a perfect excuse for Jungkook to pamper you a little.

You wiggle your hips, giggle muffled in the crook of your elbow has he parts your lips with his thumb, gently dipping into you hole before he’s pulling out.

“Please, Jungkook”

And that’s all it takes for him to line the head of his cock up with you entrance, tip nudging against your clit before he’s pushing into you; every inch stretching you apart deliciously.

“So good” you sigh, walls clenching around him and Jungkook can’t help the stutter of his hips, punching the air out of your lungs at the sudden intrusion.

“Sorry—“ his fingers dig into your hips, “Just feels so good, sucking me in”

You rock back onto his cock, breathy moan tumbling past your lips as your ass meets his pelvis; cock fully tucked into your pussy.

“Give me a moment” you shudder, body thrumming in anticipation.

Jungkook hums, hands wandering your body, fingers dancing over your skin. A surprised moan echoes throughout the room as his hands grab both your tits, squeezing them, fingers rubbing over both your nipples sending hot pleasure straight to your cunt.

He can feel you rhythmically clenching around him, walls sucking him in as you rock forward an inch before you’re sinking back down on his length.

“Okay” you nod, fingers holding onto the edge of the yoga mat.

“You sure?” he asks, pulling out to the tip, hips slow as he plunges back into you.

“Mhmm”

You feel Jungkook’s fingers dig into the meat of your hips, picking up the pace of his thrusts.

You can’t help each near pornographic moan that’s pushed out of you with each harsh slap of Jungkook’s hips meeting your ass, skin smacking wet as your slick coats your thighs.

“So good for me” his head tips back, arms hooking around your bent elbows.

You let out a squeak as he sits you up, and your walls constrict around his length as he pushes deeper inside of you, gush of wetness clinging to his thighs.

“So good” your head tips back onto his shoulder, knees helping you bounce up his length.

Your back arches when the head of cock hits your g-spot, ring of creamy slick gathering at the base of his cock each time you pull up to the tip.

“Look at that” Jungkook murmurs into your ear, one hand tangling into your hair as the other settles over your throat.

He tugs your head up, and you catch your reflection in the full length mirror; insides of your thighs coated in a sheen of your slick, Jungkook’s hips thrusting his cock up into you, both your bodies glistening with sweat.

The red hue of your cheeks flushes down your neck and chest, shade darkening with each wet squelch of your cunt as Jungkook helps you bounce in his lap.

He watches your tits bounce, both his hands wandering to grab them, pulling your back closer to chest as he pounds into you.

“I’m gonna cum” you hiccup, hands scrambling to hold onto his bicep as your other hand travels down your body, fingers gathering up your slick before you’re circling your clit.

You thighs start to shake, crescent moons indented into your skin as Jungkook’s grip on your chest tightens, your walls throbbing around his cock, drawing him closer to his orgasm.

“Yeah?” his hips stutter, “Come for me then, pretty. Let’s come together”

You moan, fingers unrelenting as you thrum at your clit in tight circles. Your orgasm wracks throughout your entire body when it hits, stomach tensing as your cum coats Jungkook cock, which twitches as he thrusts up into you.

He holds you down on his length, deep groan rumbling through his chest as he shoots his seed into the condom, your walls continuing to milk him of everything he’s got.

“Good girl” he soothes, hands falling to your hips as you fall forwards, cheek pressed against the mat as Jungkook pulls out, thrusting back into you gently.

“Thank you” you whimper, thighs tensing as he pulls himself out of your sodden pussy, folds glistening creamy white.

✯ ✯ ✯

Everything feels right. The two of you tucked into Jungkook’s bed after a shower, both your hands roaming one another’s bodies.

You’d clung to Jungkook’s back as he’d cooked you both dinner, work-out long forgotten as you’d both worked up an appetite. Muscles too sore, too achey, to even think of carrying on anything that isn’t wrapping up warm in each others’ arms.

It’s strange how so much, but nothing had changed. You still danced around each other with practiced ease, hands still feathery light, skimming over hips and backs, where legs are tangled under blankets, cold feet on warm skin.

There was something mellow in the air, a film of freedom, hearts on your sleeves for one another to see, where kisses felt softer, deeper in promise and love.

All the ‘I love yous’ holding the right weight, both understanding that the love you feel is the right kind of love.

He’d thought about it a lot, from the day you’d both confessed; messy, but a confession nonetheless. (And he had made sure to ask you to be his girlfriend in a more romantic setting than his spare room turned gym). That maybe the time growing up as just friends wasn’t wasted.

Failed relationships and sticky breakups simply teaching the two of you the right way to love.

Learning the give and take of relationships, what it truly meant to be in love with another person. Where you want nothing more than their happiness, a pure sort of adoration that consumes your entire being until they’re always on your mind. Small, seemingly insignificant parts of life reminding you of them. Trinkets in corner shops or the changes in season, certain smells, textures of clothing.

Learning about what you want for yourselves and how to take care of one another.

So he doesn’t regret all those years spent as just friends. Because maybe the two of you were too young, too eager, too scared about something as precious as true love. Growing up together, as just friends, might have brought the two of you closer than rushed first loves and petty arguments that you’d look back on and regret.

Red string. Stars. Fate. Destiny. Any of it. Jungkook doesn’t know what brought the two of you together, two souls intertwined until you both part ways when your lights flicker out. Though he thinks you’d reignite them wherever the two of you end up later on, new lives, new worlds. New everything, where he gets to learn about you all over again, explore your being, as you explore his, and you’re moulding into one another once more.

He wonders how long you’ve both been laying there, lips pulled up into lazy smiles, kiss swollen; little galaxies reflected in both your eyes.

Where every glistening star is a reason as to why you love each other. Your galaxies shining with a million different reasons, moonlight no longer veiling what lay beneath.

Because Jungkook thinks, if people were made of stardust before they were born. There’s no doubt in his mind, the two of you were made from the same star.

💫 like, reblog, and feedback is encouraged!! thank you so much for reading <3

taglist: @koikooky @fandems @guesswhatimthinking @slut-formattsun @satisfied18 @apollukee @scastro95 @happygolucky7777 @jjkw-7 @taeboludo @fairy-jaykay @jeonjjks @exactlygreatcoffee @itzz-me-duh @jkkkkkay @starstruckfangirls @tornparts @seoqity @straykidsmaxident @bebejungkook @twilight-love-nochu-main @chimmisbae @redeyezbloodymouth

permanent taglist: @m1sss1mp @supernoonanyc

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts smut #bts jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #bts x reader #bts fic #bts #bts x female reader #bts non idol au #bts au fanfic #jungkook friends to lovers #stardust

6K notes · View notes

ma1dita · 2 months

Text

love like a blister

the five stages of loving losing luke

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 4.7k

summary: (post-tlt) set directly after lovers, or partners in crime; The one where you learn to mourn someone even if they're still alive. Loving him and losing him are one and the same; the aftermath of his betrayal. this work references a lot of previous works in the series! (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: yeah… yall been asking for this so buckle up. luke is not present in this one, moreso you/trouble dealing with the after. i let annabeth breakdown a bit since ep 8 was amazing but felt choppy to me. this is not the end of the trouble!verse i promise!!

(posted 2/12/24, betaed by mootie lari @mrsaluado)

—

DENIAL - bursting under pressure

we grew up together, what do you mean you grew into a person i can’t love?

Annabeth and Percy find you standing at the edge of the forest clearing—staring at the space where you let the love of your life vanish into thin air.

You let him leave.

It’s almost harrowing when the three of you make eye contact, not a single weapon in your possession, only your dying lantern and heart bleeding with the confirmation of Luke’s betrayal.

Knees shaking as Annabeth stalks over and her sword still raised with tears in her eyes, she’s no longer Luke’s little sister but a formidable warrior set on protecting camp—on protecting Percy.

And you failed in doing either of those things you promised yourself at the beginning of this summer because you ignored the signs of Luke’s behavior— until this very moment. There’s a pressure in your head that dampens your senses, overtaking the control you have over your being as you deny any knowledge of what happened tonight.

Because in truth, you put the pieces together at the same time they did, just a little too late. She looks at you now with the fury she wasn’t able to project on the real traitor.

“You knew,” she grits her teeth, on the defensive as Percy scrambles up from the ground.

“Annie, I…”

Percy stares at you in horror, a few steps back with Riptide in his injured grasp, and suddenly he understands what it means to see you break. They both feel it instantly as your lantern goes out. Heavy despair drapes over all of you as the madness rips its way through your body, almost breaking through your skin as it emanates through the air. The two children had never felt anything like it before, swords shaking in their hands as they’re filled with the sensation until it bubbles over and they can’t do anything but watch you, their usually poised head counselor lose your grip on reality.

But this can’t be real.

Out of all of the plans you both made, it was never deemed a possibility that Luke wouldn’t be there with you. Now you stand in the darkness of the forest, hands raised in surrender to a crime you didn’t commit.

There’s so much pressure and it hurts holding it all in, hurts so badly—everywhere until you scream.

“DAD!”

You stare at their small faces surrounding you in anguish, both of them talking but not a single word registers in your mind as you keep shaking your head and screaming for your father for the first time in your life. Before the words the words can form between your lips again Dionysus is there, not as an immortal god but carrying the wrath of a protective father, and there are no forces that can fight against that.

It all moves fast from there, black spots blurring your vision brought by the sheer strength of your tears. Though you don’t feel strong right now, instead there’s nothing that can describe the feeling but hurt as you’re frozen in pain.

The kids watch Mr. D check you for any injuries, but what they’ll never understand is that the wounds Luke left behind are on the inside, and you are bleeding. He shushes you, but the words fight their way out of your mouth, almost in disbelief. “Did I do that to him?”

Your father scoops you into his arms, godly strength and fatherly concern surfacing as he cradles you like a little girl like he should have all those years ago.

The haze clears as Mr. D quells the misery that reverberates through the air and it’s quiet again as your eyes fall shut. For a moment, Percy can’t help but wonder if this is another performance of yours, another way to throw him off of the traitor’s scent. But as your hand falls out from under Mr. D’s arm, he grabs onto it anyway. The son of Poseidon remembers how you and Luke always looked at each other like you were equals, and realizes that for once, the actress was outplayed at her own game.

ANGER - words leaking like an abscess

i never knew loving someone so much would be a crime

There isn’t a protocol set in place for when one of your cabin counselors and all-star campers defects with plans to wage war on the gods. There is even less of a precedent set in place for when the head counselor and daughter of the camp director is left to pick up the pieces, hands dirtied by the evidence he left behind. Perhaps your job description was never truly clear anyway.

All you know now is that you’ve been sitting in a rickety wooden chair in your dad’s office for hours now, tied up—for formalities.

This must be your punishment from the gods for every way you were different. Maybe if you were braver, maybe if you didn’t force yourself to only see the good in him, maybe then maybe, he could’ve been saved too. Surely undoing all of that would be considerably less painful than being questioned by everyone you love about the one you love.

For once you didn’t have any good answers.

“Like I said to Chiron. I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t know what? Use your big girl words. Just do the right thing, like you always say!” Clarisse barks in your face. The centaur tuts at the daughter of Ares, making her step back and cross her arms. The boys are more silent but still suspicious, and Lee asks if you really thought Clarisse was the traitor.

“I didn’t. I was the last one to know,” you grit, looking at Percy who surveys you with hesitant eyes, “I just thought Luke was leaving. I didn’t know why.”

“How do we know you’re not working for Kronos too?”

One of them says it, you’re losing track as to who when you blink hard and long, but the words spill out of you like a festering wound— fast, acidic, and painful.

“Do you REALLY think I could turn my back on my home? My friends? Is that how you all think of me? After everything!”

“You’d do anything for that boy and we all know it,” Silena says with a scowl very unlike her, though you suppose everyone’s out of sorts from exhaustion.

“Not that. That’s where him and I are different. I would never be able to do that.”

You think you hear Silena bite back a sob as she turns away from you, not meeting your eyes.

Mr. D was unable to judge you since you were his only daughter. He’s been gone most of the night and you feel so alone even if the room is filled with familiar faces that don’t even want you here. Charles, Percy, Lee, Clarisse, Silena, Katie stand still as they judge you— Annabeth didn’t even come to the Big House, her mind probably already made up.

Chiron says there will be a vote, the procedural way—like how you taught the cabin counselors how to handle disagreements, though they were never expecting to vote on your dismissal from camp. Tensions are high, some rightfully angry at the war looming over your heads, others looking at you with pity from the other corner of the room. All of them, your friends, still, you hope.

6 votes, since you and Luke didn’t count, and Annabeth’s abstention. They did it outside, away from your view and you sit in the silence of the office, angry at what’s become of you. Tainted and tarnished, you don’t bother to find out who voted what, knowing things won’t be the same after this.

Your dad comes back a little before dawn, having asked a favor from Apollo to determine your innocence–to prove that you’re telling the truth. But by then, Charles and Lee are already untying you from your chair and you’re being let go. You wonder what changed once they were able to speak without being in your presence. Remaining seated and staring at all of them with your jaw set in stone-cold wrath, Percy thinks for a moment that you look like Luke.

The first rays of light shine through the window upon your sullen frame— a confirmation from the sun god that your heart was always pure. It still feels like a loss. There’s no medal or award for getting left behind, and winning has always been more of Luke’s thing.

You resign from the position of head counselor by the time sunlight spreads across the campgrounds.

BARGAINING - to make yourself new from the inside out

isn’t home the first place you learn to run from?

You catch Percy at the doorstep of cabin 3 before he leaves and your dad is yelling at all the campers.

“Okay! For those of you who are not staying for the full term… get out! You get out. Pack your bags. You’re going home!” Mr. D screams with a twinkle in his eye as he winks at you, patting you on the head before walking away to drive kids out.

“Didn’t think you’d be up,” he mumbles, adjusting his backpack over his shoulder. You’d been locked up in your room since the interrogation with almost no signs of life. He was worried about you—all of them were. They just didn’t know how to say it, after everything.

You stood in front of him in sweatpants and a shirt he’s sure he’s seen Luke wear to sleep before, exhaustion prominent on your face; usually you’re better at hiding it, but there’s no need for false pretenses anymore.

“Last day of camp. Had to end it on a good note,” you say softly, biting your lip, “I heard about what you did, Perce. You didn’t have to. I was going to quit anyway.”

Sometime in the past few days, Chiron came to your cabin to tell you they didn’t vote at all, which was a surprise to you. Percy convinced them not to, reminding them of your efforts as head counselor, and as a friend—the decision was settled quickly after that.

“I knew you didn’t betray us. I was just scared.”

You watch him shift his weight, not losing eye contact as he produces a half-smile. He seems older now after his quest, as many demigods do–though it’s only been a few weeks, he looks like he’s grown more sure of himself.

“That’s okay. I was too.”

The silence between you is comfortable as both of you listen to the birds in the trees, the distant voices of chattering children, and your heart hurts at the idea of leaving this, even temporarily. As your eyes flicker back to Percy’s, you realize he feels the same way.

“I hope your mom’s okay, especially after all of this. I just wanted to say goodbye.”

His sandy eyebrows furrow and it’s funny how Percy always looks a little confused.

“You’re leaving camp? I thought…”

“Well I’m not joining Kronos, if that’s what you’re worried about,” you laugh dryly, “It’s getting boring here. Gonna have to change it up soon, I think. See you.” you nod, waving a hand as you turn to walk away.

“Wait!”

Percy calls your name, skipping down the steps of his cabin and meeting you halfway down the forest path. He’s digging through his jacket pocket, and pulls out two black clay beads with blue tridents etched on the surface as your body grows cold.

“I don’t know what to do with—” “We…the other counselors, this is what we ended up voting on. And I thought you should get an extra, just in case,” Percy mumbles, his voice edged with hope and your face contorts into something like regret. You can’t cry again, even if you wanted to.

“I wouldn’t pray for something like that,” you whisper shakily.

“I thought you didn’t really pray at all.”

The kid smiles at you and it makes you wonder what souls like him and Luke must’ve done in their previous lives to deserve fates like this—to fight wars that aren’t their own. To be doomed by the narrative is a treacherous thing, and it is so utterly unfair.

“Yeah. That was more his style,” you sniff, taking the beads out of his hand, “but I still find myself with a lot of hope.”

Hope, in a sense, is prayer too. Wishing that things will be better, manifesting and believing that it doesn’t have to end this way. You don’t think Luke will ever come home to you, not really, not all of him, but it’s nice to have something to hang onto. At his core, he was raised to be a soldier, and soldiers don’t always come home.

You decide to drive Percy down the opposite shore to Montauk. It’s a short ride, and he spends the time looking out the window to the sea, thinking of his father— when the car pulls up to the driveway of the beach house, you step out and give him a hug. Soon, he’ll be taller than you.

“Take care of yourself, okay? Need anything and I’m a call away,” you smile, but he sees that it doesn’t reach your eyes.

“Thank you. For being a real friend, even if it hurts you.”

You grab his shoulder to make him look at you, and the distant sound of crashing waves dampens the thoughts running through your head.

“Listen to me. None of this is your fault. I couldn’t save him. Luke’s my biggest failure.”

Your voice wavers and you swallow hard, pushing the tears back down your throat.

“You know, I knew you didn’t know anything about his betrayal because when we were in the forest, I’d never seen you like that before. I couldn’t figure out the feeling, and–”

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that, Perce. I couldn’t hold it in anymore,” you interrupt, but he shakes his head and continues.

“I thought you were sad. It felt like sadness at first, but then I realized it was hatred. And I knew even then that I could never hate you. So I realized that’s how you felt about yourself. I hope someday you don’t feel that way anymore.”

If a few tears slip down your cheeks, Percy doesn’t pay it any mind. He waves at you when he gets to the door.

DEPRESSION - healing takes thick skin

i knew to love would be to lose my mind

After the summer term ended, you spent most of it in bed, hiding away from the world. You wished to be more spontaneous, to up and leave the safe boundaries of the camp you call home, but you’re not quite there yet. The one good thing about this is your father. Dionysus was at your bedside every morning and night between the work him and Chiron had to do to keep camp running in your absence. His powerful fingers made themselves comfortable stroking your hair as you always find yourself staring at nothing. Your father cured you of what he thought was madness over your life being turned upside down by someone you love, but after the fog cleared, you were left feeling nothing. Numb to the touch, hardened by your hurt like a growing callous.

Impenetrable.

He thinks it’s bittersweet, getting to know you better as you chat late into the night when you can’t sleep, but it breaks his own heart to have the power of Olympus on his side and still not be able to fix you. He knows now what you must have been feeling these past few months, to some extent.

“Sometimes, I wonder if I’m dead already,” you mutter as your eyes stare blankly at the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling. Your dad is sitting at your desk as he signs paperwork, and his eyes flicker to a pinned photo on you wall of you kissing Luke’s cheek in a photobooth. One of the pins is missing a memory, torn and stolen away.

“Unfortunately, you’re not that lucky. I carried you out of that forest, I’d know,” he mutters, sipping on his Diet Coke.

“Will it always hurt like this? Losing someone you…” Love.

You can barely even bring yourself to say it, so he sighs and nudges you to move over on the bed, his Hawaiian shirt an eyesore against your bedspread. It makes your lips quirk up to see the god try to fit himself into a full-size as he adjusts to get comfortable.

“Yes. Because if it hurts, it means that it mattered. There is no such thing as love lost if you gave it willingly. You know, your mother and I were never together, but I loved her too.”

He tucks the duvet under your chin like he’s worried you’ll catch a chill. Your form is still unmoving under the covers as he continues.

“Love is a powerful catalyst. The actions humans do after are a product of that; it brings out the best or the worst in people, especially if you think it’s the only way. You love because you want more time with them. You love someone to life, not to death.”

“Silena said something at the Big House. She said that everyone knew I would do anything for him. Where does that leave me? What do I do now?”

Your eyes shut as you feel your dad grab your hand and he chuckles lowly. He knows a thing or two of doing anything for love. He’s gone to the underworld and back—twice, for his mother Semele and his true love, Ariadne. And he’d do it again for you, if he ever had to. “You’re not broken, kid. You’re in love. It’s the purest emotion the gods have bestowed onto humans, and it is a gift, even if it doesn’t work out. Love is insanity. I think you and I know it best.”

“I guess I’m a lot more like you than I like to admit,” you scoff, leaning against his arm.

“Don’t sound so excited, daughter of mine,” he says playfully, and he seems so human now as he laughs. The two of you have a gift of fixing people, but perhaps you were both blind to who needed it the most until this very moment. Sitting there in the quiet a little longer, it doesn’t feel so bad to be the favorite daughter of Dionysus. Maybe when you’re ready to get out of these walls, you’ll be able to say it with pride.

ACCEPTANCE - to be soft again takes strength

in another life, we would’ve mattered more than choosing sides

“He always hated it when you smoked, you know.”

You cough through a puff, boots slightly slipping in the sleet of the gravel driveway as you turn to face Annabeth. Besides the fact that her father’s house is grander than anything you could ever imagine yourself living in, there’s a large distance between the two of you as she stands on the steps, the box you left on the doorstep slowly being dotted with falling snow. You left the car running, thinking she wouldn’t want to see you after everything that’s happened.

“Well he probably hates a lot of things about me now,” you say grimly.

It’s been a growing habit to want to feel something, the rush of nicotine through your bloodstream—even if it’s bound to rip years off your life. It doesn’t really matter as much anymore.

I hate a lot of things about me too, you think, remembering a white house on a hill even if it was a distant dream— these thoughts all go up in smoke as you watch her sit down on the stoop waiting for you to come sit down with her.

Your hands fidget as you find a place next to her, putting out the cigarette on the red brick as the ash falls onto your chipped nail polish. It burns, but Annabeth watches you, the both of you stone-faced.

“What made you drive all the way out here?”

She opens the box and tries to hide a shaky breath at it’s contents but the vapor in the air betrays her. You can still tell a thing or two about people acting, but you’re never too sure anymore.

“I got a few days off from class. Dad Iris messaged me, told me there were new kids in 11 who needed bunks, so… he thought it was time. It was sitting in my room when I got there.” She notices you call Mr. D your dad now, but doesn’t say much of it. She’s also getting used to calling her father that after all these years.

You pull out the quilt you gave Luke the night before you got claimed, a faded pink and purple pattern worn from the years of use and wrap it around her shoulders. It still smells like him, citrus and musk and something darker that hangs over your heads and she sniffles.

“So you’re a college girl now, huh? Never thought you’d do it,” Annabeth mumbles, still not looking at you as her eyes scan through what was hidden underneath the fabric. Luke never had much he held close to his heart, and it’s funny to think his two prized possessions were staring down into a box trying to find the meaning of it all.

“Yeah, me neither,” you sigh. It should’ve been an insult, but you know what she means.

Not without him.

There’s a lot that you promised each other, but you find yourself doing it all alone–because you have to. The world does not wait for for anyone, even if you beg for it to.

“It’s not a big deal, I’m still on the Island, just…not at home. Just trying to keep myself busy.”

Her hand picks up a polaroid of the two of them—he’s smiling as she peers over his shoulder.

“I think it’s great. You’re too hard on yourself sometimes.”

Other memories are scattered in the box including a leather bracelet, a compass, unsent letters to his mom, and photos of happier days back when all of your hearts were softer. There’s not much to split between the two of you.

A black clay bead rolls to the inner corner, indicative of this year’s events and painted with turquoise like the eyes of a certain son of Poseidon that now crosses the both of your minds.

“Percy gave it to me before he left for the city, for him. In case.”

You swallow loudly, and you watch her braid it onto the leather cord and tie it around your wrist. Her fingertips are cold as she nods, “In case.”

“You’ve been looking for him, haven’t you?” The movement your head makes is almost imperceptible—not a nod nor a shake, but the daughter of Athena knows you too well by now. She knows you because Luke did too, once upon a time.

“Think I’m trying to find myself now. If he’s still a part of that I don’t know what that says about me.”

The two of you sit there on the stoop of the Chase mansion catching up on the past 7 months even if the both of you can still feel the wall of his memory between you. She doesn’t invite you in to meet her family despite the weather—hesitant to let her mother’s side of life bleed into the new normal she’s created for herself, and you can’t blame her one bit. The both of you have been at war with each other and with yourselves since the end of the summer, when in reality you both know what it’s like to protect the little you have to hang onto and what it feels like to be left behind. Survival mode, until the end.

“Why do you think he did it? I mean, I know why, but…”

Why weren’t we enough?

Annabeth’s mind has always been so brilliant, but sitting in the dim porchlight, you understand now that she’s growing up so quickly. Gone are her baby-soft cheeks, with her cheekbones more prominent as they frame her wise eyes. She’s a teenager now. But Annabeth looks at you like she did long ago, the only person besides Luke who would patiently answer all of her questions. Even if the answers weren’t always what she wanted, you had a way of telling her what she needed to hear.

“I think I’ll be asking the gods why for the rest of my life. And even if they ignore me like they did him, or give me an answer that’s worth the balance of the world, I’ll still never be able to understand it.”

The snow is falling harder now, but neither of you seem to notice. It’s stuck in your hair, dusting your eyelashes as you sit and stare out at the front lawn. She tells you about school, her family, Percy and Grover, and the things you’ve missed about her so deeply—and for a moment you feel like you can be her older sister again, someone who can keep her secrets. Partially, you left home because everyone either doubted you or thought you as fragile. Annabeth always tells you what she’s truly thinking— it’s a breathe of fresh air to let yourself just be.

“I’ve never not had the last word when it comes to him, y’know? I guess I have nothing more to say though.”

You both huddle together for warmth under the quilt, sharing secrets and memories of him, things others wouldn’t understand.

“You know that’s not true,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes, and her smile is as bright as the snowflakes in her ebony tresses.

“What I do know is that you know too damn much,” and you both start giggling softly, teary eyed and feeling what you’ve been keeping in for months now, from each other and the rest of the world.

“I’m sorry,” she mutters suddenly, and your name falling from Annabeth’s mouth sounds almost as unfamiliar as her apologizing. It shouldn’t have to have been like this. You’re not going to lose the only person who remembers him like you do, who hurts like you.

“Me too.”

She leans her head on your shoulder like how she would when you used to sing her to sleep, and deep down Annabeth knows that she won’t let the only good part of her brother go either. What tore the two of you apart brings you back together, because if you don’t have him you still have each other.

The door to the estate opens up slowly, it’s well-oiled hinges silent like the two sad girls’ whispers. Dr. Chase steps out to see you two illuminated by the light of his home, hand in hand over a box of memories and wrapped in a pink and purple quilt that Annabeth will hold close to her like she does her mother’s hat.

“You two ladies causing trouble?” he smiles, his eyes wild with a thirst to know more and it’s a look you’ve seen his daughter give you one too many times.

You can’t help but chuckle at the irony and though he means well, the all-consuming feeling that comes with the name, Luke’s name for you– ignites in your heart once more. No one will ever call you trouble again, not in the way he did. It burns like alcohol running through your veins almost unendurable and you want to will it away, but Annie’s patting your arm as she tries to stifle the flames with her cold fingers.

“Her?” she says knocking her shoulder against yours, “ Always.”

Annabeth laughs, and that too, reminds you of him but it doesn’t hurt as much anymore, your body still warm in the winter Virginia air. You feel your chest shake and suddenly you’re laughing and it’s crazy and loud and maniacal and so you that you can barely see Annabeth through the tears rolling down your cheeks. It cuts around the dead skin that’s encapsulated your being these past few months, revealing something brand new—much softer, even if it’s still tender to the touch.

It’s still you, still hurting, but choosing to live despite it.

Because you have to.

—

“Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever had to do. Being loved by you is the hardest.“

- Ari B. Cofer

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

#luke castellan x dionysus!reader #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan angst #pjo x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #made by ma1dita ♥︎#trouble!verse #thank you for reading my love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

700 notes · View notes

chironshorseass · 4 months

Text

ok i really really really enjoyed watching the first two episodes and i think the show is already so faithful to the books in ways the movies wished they were BUT i’m gonna be a bitch just because i can and rant about a few insignificant but at the same time very important Things the writers didn’t Understand:

percy is angry.

and i know this is seen with his anger towards poseidon in the show, but i’m talking angry. as in, generally speaking. when he’s with grover and they’re talking about nancy, percy says something along the lines of “we should fight back,” and grover’s like “noooo we can’t stand up to bullies.” and then percy stands up to her and blah blah blah…but in the books percy’s first line is “i’m going to kill her” after she throws a sandwich at grover. grover talks him out of it because he’s already on probation.

with just this scene we know percy stands up to bullies, and that’s partly why he has so much trouble at school! in the show, he stands up to nancy, apparently for the first time, and gets kicked out because of it! sorry but as someone who worked in a school, i know for a fact that kids can get away with so much more before they’re actually kicked out lol. it would’ve made sense, like in tlt, that he’s already at risk of suspension so him “pushing” nancy is the final straw. it’s just very weird, considering it could be only a line of dialogue that makes percy’s anger and the connection between his outburst and him getting kicked out more clear.

consequently, percy arrives at his appartment and gabe is just a general (still admittedly abusive) jerk instead of a drunk, violent (also abusive) man. when we meet gabe, it makes a lot of sense why percy has so much trouble with his anger. it’s easy to see that connection. literal child + alcoholic abusive father figure = there’s bound to be some trouble….that’s not really the case in the show, especially in the way that sally easily stands up to him. people have said a fair bit about this topic already, so i’m not gonna expand on that, but i really wish the writers had focused more on percy’s internal anger, as it’s such an important part of his character and affects the way he reacts to things throughout the books; it just worries me that in the first episode it wasn’t as established. i. e. he hates dionysus on sight because he reminds him of smelly gabe, he hates the gods—is angry at poseidon—because, where was he when my mom and i were suffering at the hands of smelly gabe? ok i’m not gonna talk about more of this or of sally because other people have said it and i could write a four page essay of what the show got wrong plus i want to talk abt other things before this gets too long:

the monster scenes.

the mrs. dodds being a fury reveal felt sooo…weird? even the movie version did it better lol. it felt super rushed and strange how percy’s just standing there and the next he’s on the ground, but he had riptide with him so he just impaled her and then she turned to dust??? in the books, not only does she get percy alone, but grover tries to stand up to her—which is a big deal since he knows what she truly is and shows how much he cares for percy in that moment. percy has time to be genuinely terrified bc he’s alone with a literal monster and he’s about to die…and chiron throws him riptide just in time, but then he too vanishes so percy’s left wondering if he imagined everything. but no, in the show mrs. dodds comes out of nowhere and attacks him, and it’s so fast that percy doesn’t have time to dwell on wtf happened. the situation doesn’t seem as serious as it does in the book; in the book she tries to interrogate percy bc she thinks he’s the lightning thief, and when she doesn’t get her answer, she attacks him. this is another thing: the stakes. they don’t feel as high in the show because there’s no annabeth trying to ask percy what was stolen, no hellhound, no fates cutting a string, and no alecto/mrs. dodds interrogation. there’s not much of a lead up to the quest, really.

theeen the minotaur scene, which also feels super weirdly paced and there’s just not that same sense of urgency. again, other people have talked about this, so i’ll just stick to another main concern of mine: grover’s role in the scene. it was so strange how in the book he’s semi unconscious and in the show he’s fine (so fine that sally does something completely out of character and makes grover swear to keep percy safe? she would never put that much pressure in a child???) ok so he seems fine in the show, but then when they’re running percy’s holding him as if he can’t walk???? they’re not even fully sprinting, given that a monster is chasing them lol. (the problem with the stakes; i mean with the way they run and have an entire talk with sally makes it feel like they’re not in any real danger).

back to grover: he was perfectly fine, and he got percy back safe. not at all like in tlt, where percy has to practically carry him back, after loosing his mom and killing the minotaur. THEN percy passes out and later wakes up at the big house. this is important, bc grover’s entire THING is being percy’s protector, and he couldn’t do that properly bc he was indisposed. he felt awful. of course he did. his character arc is overcoming the guilt and insecurities—that he’s not a proper protector and therefore can’t search for pan; his main character motivation—by successfully completing the quest and helping percy retrieve the master bolt.

these are just little seeds that needed to be planted in the first two episodes of the show…so that the rest of the show feels cohesive and makes sense with what happens in tlt. if these character traits and scenes are looked over and not given proper importance/not replaced with something similar, then the show will have a different tone than it does to the books. i don’t think it’s necessarily bad, but it is disappointing that the details sprinkled in the source material are lost in translation. they may have seemed insignificant to the writers, but not to meeee!!!!!!

#pjo adaptation #percy jackson #grover underwood #they should’ve hired a couple of insane pjo girlies to read and revise the script. just saying!!!!

1K notes · View notes

suhnshinehaos · 9 months

Text

' ACCIDENTALLY IN LOVE ' | c. hansol

synopsis : the one where you get into an arranged marriage with your childhood best friend vernon, but neither of you seem to mind that much pairing : vernon x gn!reader genre/s : mini smau, non-idol au, fluff, little bit of angst

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five (finale!)

walks with hansol aren’t always silent. when they are, they’re almost always comfortable. tonight isn’t one of those nights. you always know when there’s something on his mind. you see it in the way his gaze combs through every inch of the venue grounds, each step cautious and careful. he keeps his hands behind his back as both of you walked past a wooden sign, pointing one way to a quaint little building meant for the ceremony and the reception tent.

you head for the direction of the building.

the small building was mostly empty, except for the rows of chairs and wooden arch decorated with dried and fake flowers at the very end of the room that had been set-up earlier in the day. both of you opted to keep the wedding small. only sending out invites to family, close friends, and — of course — business associates.

you absently run your hand over the backs of each wooden chair as you follow hansol. he’s a few steps ahead, but both of you make your way down the aisle. it’s only then that it finally, truly, sinks in what was going to happen tomorrow.

you’re going to marry your best friend. your hansol. your sol, with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen. with the most comforting voice you’ve ever known. the same kid you’ve known before you could even walk on two feet.

“are you sure you want to go through with this?”

his voice snaps you out of your train of thought. hansol has already reached the end of the aisle and he’s looking at you with expectant eyes. his voice is soft, hesitant, the most worried you had ever heard it.

you don’t hide your confusion as you pick up your pace until you reach him. you raise a brow, standing just a few feet in front of him. “why are you asking me that? of course, i want to go through with it.”

you reach out, grab both of his hands, and give them gentle squeeze. hansol squeezes back, taking a deep breath, and gathering all the courage he has in himself. “you know how when we go on these late night walks, when you can’t sleep, or i get caught up in work?”

“mhmm.”

“you know the phrase i always say?”

“the moon is beautiful.” you let out a quiet exhale, recalling the words he always spoke to you. in a voice that’s tender and yet somewhat distant, as if he doesn’t want you to hear. but you always do.

and he knows that you do.

“to you, this could just be a business deal. a means to an end-”

your eyes widen, voice rising uncharacteristically as you cut him off. “that’s not how i see it at all. you know that.”

“you’re marrying your best friend.” he smiles, albeit sadly, and shakes his head immediately after. hansol lets go of your hands and lets his own fall at his sides, defeated. “it’s different for me… i’m marrying my best friend, and the love of my life.”

you feel tears prick at the corner of your eyes, but you blink them back and you let hansol continue speaking.

“going through with this is fine by me, but i don’t want you to wake up one day and regret it. because i love you. i don’t know why, or how, but i’ve never known a day where i didn’t love you.”

the weight of his words sit heavy on your chest, and you don’t let the silence last more that a few seconds. you reach a hand towards your pockets and pull out a bracelet. “i’ve been meaning to find a way to give this to you, i was hoping to do it before the actual ceremony. this wedding has been so publicized, and i wanted to take a moment that’s just between us two. no cameras, no press, no board members.”

you take his left hand and hansol lets you place the bracelet around his wrist. it’s a simple chained gold bracelet, but threaded through the loops are strands of cotton strings from a friendship bracelet you had made him in your childhood. you smile as his eyes light up in recognition.

“where did you find this?”

“i had some help from wonwoo. it took him a while to find that. i have one with the bracelet you made me, but it’s in my room and i didn’t wear it so i don’t spoil the surprise.” you laugh, shrugging your shoulders. “i know this wedding changes a lot of things, most of which are on the business side of things. it won’t change a lot either. you know, we’re not doing rings or taking each other’s last names. it doesn’t change the fact that we will take care of each other. and it doesn’t change the fact that i’m in love with you.”

his eyes widen in shock. “but wonwoo?”

“well, since he was older, it was kind of expected that i would marry him. and i thought, if i spoke of it enough times, i could will it into existence that he was the one i had feelings for.” you sighed. “but i’m standing here with you tonight, very much in love with you, like i have been the past couple of years. and i will stand with you tomorrow, in front of our friends and family, letting everyone know that this feeling isn’t going to change.”

hansol stands there, completely and utterly speechless. but mostly because he knows mere words would never be enough to express everything that he feels for you. so instead, he pulls you in for a kiss.

from reese, with love <3

and this ends the story of hansolyn !! they are so dear to me, thank you for joining me on this little adventure !! i hope enjoyed this story, and as always, i'd love to know what you think !! reading all your asks/rbs/replies is one of the highlights of writing these little brainrots <3 hope you're all doing well and taking care !!

ps. yes, i used 'the moon is beautiful' (pls look this up if u dont know what it means, it's v sweet hehe) as a plot moment again-- i just cant help it,, it was right there cmon sol like the sun and now we have yn and the moon sdfghjkl

#🔖 — accidentally in love!#seventeen x reader #vernon x reader #svt x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen smau #seventeen sm aus #svt imagines #svt fluff #svt smau #vernon imagines #vernon fluff #vernon smau

2K notes · View notes

halfvalid · 7 months

Note

Hey! Since your requests are open, may I request opla!Zoro x reader (established relationship) where the reader has a lot of self doubt (not only in their looks, but their abilities and their place in the crew) since it’s, unfortunately, been shoved done their throat by pretty much eveyone they knew, even their parents, that they would never be good enough? Maybe Zoro figures out that they have sort of been spiralling lately and they have a talk about the readers past and the problems they’re facing and he comforts them? Maybe it ends sort of spicy or turns out full on spicy, if you’re comfortable with that!

daybreak

ABOUT

alternate title: some fluffy established relationship hurt/comfort to save my soul

rating: teen & up

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k (short; sorry!)

description: zoro notices you've been seeming off recently, and you confide in him your insecure feelings of self-worth. he comforts you.

tags: strawhat!reader, established relationship, fluff, emotional hurt/comfort, kissing, no use of ‘y/n’, soft zoro, ridiculously stupidly absolutely horrifyingly fluffy.

author’s note: thank you so much for the very lovely request! i hope i did your prompt justice; i ended up not writing any spice at the end (just slightly suggestive) since i didn't think it fit the story but i hope you like it anyway ^^

it feels slightly ooc, but i also wrote it in the span of two hours at 1:00 am so can you really blame me.

It was morning on the Going Merry, and you were cleaning up the wreckage that had been scattered along the deck in your last battle. The crew had gone up against some other pirates; it’d been late at night, and the attack had come suddenly, what you’d thought would be a peaceful docking turning combative quickly.

You barely remembered the fight. One moment, the warning bell had sounded, and the next Zoro was rolling out of bed beside you, grabbing his swords and darting out of your bedroom before you could even register what was happening. The fight had gone in the Straw Hats’ favor, thankfully; Zoro, Luffy, and Sanji had fended off most of the threat, and you were back on the open sea, safe from enemies for at least a little while now.

You let out a sigh as you swept shattered glass into a dustpan, shaking out the collected trash into a nearby empty barrel. None of the men usually bothered to start cleaning up—typical—so you’d pulled yourself out of bed as early as possible to get the ship looking a little more like normal.

Zoro had left some corpses on the deck for you to deal with, and you’d had to toss them overboard, a grimace tugging at your lips as blood stained the white of your blouse. No matter. You’d finished sweeping, at least; all you had left to do was mop, right as everyone else was waking up.

You filled a bucket with warm water and soap, and were just grabbing the mop from the closet when you heard footsteps. You glanced up, surprised to see Zoro heading towards you, one hand grasped loosely around his sword handle as always. “You’re up early,” he said, casual as ever. “Woke up and you were gone.”

“Figured I should get a head start on cleaning,” you answered quickly, not meeting Zoro’s eyes as you dunked the mop into the bucket. His brows creased as he watched you start mopping, pushing the handle along the deck to wipe it clear of bloodstains.

“How long have you been doing this?” Zoro asked, after a few seconds of delayed silence. You shrugged, dunking your mop again before going for another few swipes. “We can help clean too, you know.”

“It’s the least I can do,” you protested. You moved past him, trying very hard not to meet his eyes—but Zoro didn’t let you pass, one hand going out to grab the mop rod and stopping you in your tracks. “What?”

“What do you mean, least you could do?” Zoro asked blankly.

“I mean—” you shrugged, muscles limp like your entire body was sagging you down. “You and the others were the ones to deal with the pirates, so I figured I could at least—”

Zoro still looked confused, brows pulled together, forehead taut with a frown. “I distinctly recall you throwing a pirate twice your size overboard. Unless I was imagining things.”

You sighed. “Not what I meant.” You tried to push past Zoro again, but he didn’t let you, hand still tightly grasped around your mop handle.

“Okay, what did you mean, then?”

“Nothing. Will you just let me finish cleaning so there aren't blood stains all over Luffy’s ship?” You sighed again, even as you attempted to keep the sound inside—but you couldn’t help it. It was like there was an anchor stuck inside of you, pulling everything from your feelings to your body down, the weight of gravity tugging at your features.

“Luffy’s ship?”

You shrugged. “The Straw Hats’ ship. Whatever.”

“Our ship,” Zoro said. There was a certain twinge of something in his words; still blankness, but laced with a dawning realization that you weren’t sure you liked. “You’re upset.”

“Nope.” This time you really did manage to get free of Zoro’s grasp, yanking your mop out of his grip and starting back on cleaning the deck. The acrid smell of iron hit your nose as you scrubbed the dried blood off—you’d have to go back in later with a sponge to get all the cracks and crevices, but for now this would be okay.

Zoro followed you, unceasing with his interrogation. “Yes, you are. I know when you’re upset, and you’re upset. What happened.” It was more of a statement than a question—Zoro didn’t often doubt himself, really, which was one of the many things that’d helped make you stumble into falling for him. “Was it about last night? You know the cook's just making fun when he keeps a counter, right? It doesn’t matter if he brought two or five more men down than you.”

“It’s not about that,” you insisted.

“So you admit you are upset.”

You groaned, finally turning to look Zoro in the eye. He’d stopped walking, the dawning sun glinting hazey gold onto his skin in the early hour. There was still an overcast of blue from the night in the sky, and it made the heavens look ethereal, watery and glittering.

“Come on,” he urged. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s really nothing you need to be concerned about,” you attempted, but your voice was weak now. Zoro stepped closer to you, gently pulling the mop out of your hands. Your fingers let go easily. “It’s silly.”

Zoro gave you a look. “Out with it.”

“I don’t know, I just—” your fingers clenched, like your hand was trying to find something to do now that Zoro had rid you of your mop. “Comparatively I just don’t do much. So I want to help out as much as possible.”

“Who said you don’t do much?”

“What?”

“I don’t think I need to repeat myself,” Zoro said. He let the mop fall to the ground, arms crossing over his chest as he watched you. “Who said you don’t do much?”

“I mean, nobody. It’s just true.” You shrugged, distinctly uncomfortable with the way Zoro was looking at you—all attentive, like he was trying to strip you raw with his eyes, uncover whatever secrets might be hiding in the pores of your skin and the gaps of your teeth. “Luffy’s the captain, we wouldn’t be able to do anything without Nami, you and Sanji are the fighters, and Usopp’s everyone’s favorite. I’m just kind of… filler?”

The more you spoke, the worse your words got, your tone turning more desperate as the sentences fumbled out of your mouth. Zoro’s eyebrows raised higher as you went on, and you flushed, red prickling all over your skin.

“First of all,” he started, “Usopp is not my favorite. That’d be you. And—where are you getting this from?”

You shook your head, trying to backtrack. “Nothing. Nowhere. It’s not that import—”

“Yes, it is, and we’re talking about it.” Zoro pulled a nearby barrel by the side of the ship, plopping himself down atop it and gesturing for you to sit. You didn’t, but you did move over to the railing, hands curling around the painted wood. “Speak.”

“I have nothing to say,” you tried. Zoro just shot you an unimpressed look, and you squirmed. “Fine. I don’t know. I joined last, so I just figured… you were all kind of already set without me, right?”

Zoro shook his head. “We’re a crew,” he said, voice strong but somehow still gentle. “You’re part of us for a reason. What, this entire time did you think you were—expendable?”

You fidgeted uncomfortably, weight shifting from one leg to the other. “No.”

“Don’t lie.”

“Yes. No. I don’t know. Last night—I only got, like what, two guys? And you reacted way faster to the situation than I did,” you started, words flailing around on your tongue as they rushed out. It was indelicate, for certain, and you yourself couldn’t make sense of most of the words—but once you started, you couldn’t stop, even as they slurred together. “I was still getting out of bed and grabbing my weapon when you’d already dealt with half the enemy crew.”

“Don’t compare yourself to me,” Zoro said with a shake of his head. “That’s not fair. I’ve been training since I was eight. It’s different.”

You huffed out an exasperated breath, trying not to let your frustration get the best of you. “I can't help it sometimes. It’s a bad habit.” You loosened your grip on the ship railing, staring out at the golden clouds hovering over the sky. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Zoro answered. He didn’t say anything after that—giving you a space to talk, you supposed, in case you wanted to. But his hand did reach up to press against yours, pinky brushing against your finger as he held onto the railing beside you.

“I guess I just always had these standards back at the village,” you managed out eventually. Your island had always been one of the more traditional places in the East Blue, and there were plenty rules and guidelines abound. One of the many reasons you’d left the place in favor for Luffy and the Going Merry, really. “So I just… always want to do more. It’s not that bad.”

“Right.” Zoro’s pinky looped around your finger, now, holding it close in a soft kiss of the hands. You sighed.

“My parents were kind of rough on me, I guess,” you tried, sneaking a glance over at Zoro’s face to see if it satiated his curiosity at all. His expression remained as steel as ever, so you just continued. “They wanted me to be the best I could. But their standards were too high, even when I was little.” You found yourself rubbing circles into the back of Zoro’s hand with your finger, more so to comfort yourself than for any other reason. “Just normal stuff, like being upset about my school grades or my combat training levels being too low. Nothing that terrible.”

“But…?” Zoro asked, tilting his head up to look at you. You smiled, but the action didn’t reach your eyes—it was all mouth and jaw, cheeks lifting but eyes glinting with the same glazed stare.

“It just affected me a lot, I suppose,” you answered. “Always trying to get better. Never satisfied. And I guess now—I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll ever be good enough.”

“For?” Zoro asked. His voice was low, soft, all hollow and empty inside. There was a tinge of roughness lacing it, like he’d forgotten to clear his throat, and the scratch of his vocal chords had surfaced up along with the words.

“Myself. My parents. Luffy. You.” Your lips tightened into a line. Vaguely, you could feel the warm pinpricks of tears starting at your waterline, and you tried to will them back, letting out a little laugh. “Everyone, I guess.”

Zoro’s hand had come to hold yours fully, fingers woven in between yours, thumb pressed firmly against the joint of your thumb. Somehow, that one motion managed to force the last of the words out of you—all wet and soft, eyes glued fiercely to the horizon in fear of seeing what was etched on Zoro’s face.

“We do arranged marriages back at home,” you started, trying very hard to keep your voice from trembling. it worked only marginally—there was a tiny quaver in your tone, but it was soft, not noticeable unless you were really listening hard. “And my mom used to tell me I’d die alone. Because I wasn’t pretty enough, or smart enough, or anything enough for any of the boys there.”

“Oh,” Zoro said. It was quiet; barely a whisper. You tried for a wry smile.

“I like helping, though. I don’t mind cleaning up or whatever. It makes me feel more useful.” You tried to tug your hand out of Zoro’s grip, but his fingers tightened, keeping you in place. A nervous laugh escaped your throat. “And I know I’m part of the crew and all of this is just silly. So it’s really fine—”

Zoro tugged your intertwined hands to his chest, causing you to stumble and glance down at him in surprise. His expression was nearly unreadable. It’d darkened, and there was a contemplative gaze in his eyes, lips parted with invisible words perched on his tongue. “Don’t do that,” he whispered, and your stomach dropped, the nervousness that had gathered inside during the conversation tightening up into a hall. “Don’t say it’s okay or that it’s not important. If it’s making you upset, then it matters.”

“I guess,” you tried, and Zoro’s gaze lifted to fix you with a glare. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, I just…” Zoro shook his head. “Look, whatever your parents used to tell you, whatever you have ingrained in your head—it’s not true. And there’s nothing wrong with wanting to do more, but… you don’t have to do it. You’re enough already.”

Your gaze softened, lips falling open to say something, but Zoro wasn’t finished yet. “You shouldn’t come out here and force yourself to clean up just to make up for your—waste of space, or something. You’re not a servant. And you’re not wasting up any space. I think everyone would agree that you’re a very important and vital part of the crew.”

“Thanks,” you whispered. Zoro’s hand was warm around yours, and you felt the threatening droplets of tears start to rise up at your waterline, ready to fall at any moment now. Zoro just nodded.

“You’re a great fighter, and way smarter than what you give yourself credit for,” he said firmly. He raised your hand to his mouth, then, leaning over to press a feather-light kiss to your knuckles. “And the boys on your island have to be blind, because you’re pretty enough. You’re more than pretty enough.”

He whispered the last words, all soft and sacred on his tongue. “You’re beautiful.”

That was enough to drive your tears over the edge. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to stop the flow as the warm sensation of liquid streaking down your cheeks began. Droplets caught in the crevice of your lips, and at the hinge of your jaw—Zoro brought a hand up to wipe them away. “Are you okay?” he whispered.

“Yeah, I just, um.” You shook your head, sniffing. “Thank you. That… helped. I think.”

Zoro bummed out his response. “Of course,” he said easily. “You’re my girl. It’s my job to cheer you up.” He kissed your knuckles again. “And you can talk to any of us. I’m not really the best at this, but everyone else…” he shrugged.

“You’re doing just fine,” you assured him. Zoro nodded, tugging you down until you finally took a seat on a crate beside him. “I think it’s just been worse lately.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I think you’re better than the waiter,” Zoro said. You just laughed.

“I think you’re biased, but thank you,” you said. “Here, I, um, I promise I’ll let you know if I’m feeling down, I guess. If you don’t mind.”

“Definitely don’t mind,” Zoro answered. This time he placed a gentle kiss on your neck, somewhere at the bottom near the back. “Leave the mopping for someone else. You’ve already done a lot.”

“Okay,” you whispered, eyes fluttering closed as Zoro kissed the rest of the way up the back of your neck. He placed a final one right below your earlobe. With that, Zoro stood up, sweeping one arm under your legs and hoisting you up. You cracked open an eye to regard him with a blank look. “What are you doing?”

“Bringing you back to my room,” Zoro answered. “You didn’t get much sleep tonight. And I doubt anyone wants to watch me kissing you on the main deck anyway.”

That was fair enough reasoning, so you didn’t complain, letting him carry you all the way to his cabin and gently lay you down onto his bed. He leaned over to press a gentle kiss to your lips—you could still taste the saltwater from your tears from before. “Want me to stay?” Zoro asked.

“You don’t have to,” you said automatically, and Zoro raised both his eyebrows. You let out a sigh. “Okay, I get it. Yes. Please stay.”

“All you had to say,” Zoro said, shedding himself of his shoes and swords before leaning over the bed to watch you. He didn’t slip under the covers or anything, just propped an arm up on the mattress, kneeling beside the bed. There was tender silence for a few moments before Zoro spoke again.

“I love you,” he said abruptly, voice rough but somehow still soft. Your heart beat too fast in your chest, ribcage squeezing in on the organ and making it skip. His hand slid along the mattress to find yours, and you took the offer, fingers clasping around his palm.

“I love you too,” you whispered back. Zoe leaned over, then, the hand not intertwined with yours tilting your jaw over just so to allow him better access to your mouth. He kissed you full-on, tender but firm, mouth working against yours in a way that unraveled you entirely. Your grip on his hand tightened as he deepened the kiss, a soft sound emitting from low in your throat. Finally you broke apart, heaving for breath, exhales mixing together midair. An exchange of souls, you’d heard once, somewhere.

“Come on,” you murmured, tugging Zoro closer to the bed so he got the hint. He slipped beside you onto it, turning your head again to meet you in another kiss. His hand drifted down to your waist, holding you securely in place.

“I don’t think anyone should need us for a few more hours, right?” Zoro asked, and you laughed. He swallowed up the sounds with his mouth, tongue licking languidly into you as he rubbed delicate circles into the skin of your waist. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, and then he was kissing you again.

You let him siphon the soul out of your lungs, knowing you were getting his right back.

#opla zoro #opla roronoa zoro #opla #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #reader insert #x reader #one piece live action #one piece netflix #opla zoro x reader #opla fanfiction #opla fanfic #one piece live action x you #one piece live action x reader #kiki writes!

1K notes · View notes

splishsplashyouropinionistrash · 11 months

Text

nobody in this fandom talks enough about andreil’s “you came” “you called” moment and it’s a fucking TRAVESTY

for reference, i’m talking about the 20th of january, right after wymack tells neil he’s going to be vice-captain the next year. neil ends up calling andrew, and andrew drops everything to come and get him.

even at surface level, it’s so sweet. but y’all know me, nothing is EVER just surface deep.

this moment is significant for two reasons. one, because it really showcases the level of trust neil has for andrew. if you remember, neil wasn’t even aware that he was calling andrew until andrew started talking to him. even his subconscious mind, the mind that is so set on survival and safety at any cost, trusted andrew to protect him. he felt threatened and his instinct was to call andrew.

now for my favorite reason why this scene is the best: because andrew didn’t have to go back for neil.

but aster, you might be asking, wasn’t neil going to run if andrew didn’t go get him?

yes, he was. but nowhere in their deal did they agree that andrew would keep neil from running. andrew’s only job was to protect neil, keeping him at PSU was never part of the deal. andrew never had to go back and get neil, even by his own moral code.

and they hadn’t even started their relationship yet! there was literally no reason why andrew, who everyone thinks cares about nothing and nobody, would turn around on the highway to keep one of his teammates from running away. none.

but he still did it. he didn’t have to, he wasn’t obligated because of a deal. he chose to go help neil.

i think it’s one of those moments that really shows just how much andrew cares. when andrew shows up to get him, neil says that andrew doesn’t care about what’s happening in his head, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. if andrew really didn’t care, he wouldn’t have gone back. he would have kept driving and left neil to figure it out for himself. but he didn’t, and that’s so fucking important.

TLDR: they’re in love and i love that they love each other

EDIT: i am now aware that like half of this is wrong. i wrote it at like 3AM and didn’t remember any of it. i’m not deleting it because so many people enjoyed it, but pls be aware that ya boy is a little stupid and didn’t fact check before posting. (ik i’m wrong now pls stop yelling @ me <3 )

#aftg #tfc #all for the game #the foxhole court #andrew minyard #andreil #neil josten #aftg textpost #splishsplash originals

1K notes · View notes

iliketangerines · 2 months

Note

If you're still doing requests, what about Bi-han falling for Madam Bo's granddaughter?

come visit soon

a/n: i gotchu cuties. this turned out much fluffier than i thought.

pairing: bi han x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), praise kink

Kuai Liang had managed to convince Bi Han that they all should go to Madam Bo’s for dinner as a treat for a difficult but successful mission

and so, they all were sitting at Madam Bo’s, drinking the complementary green tea while waiting for the waiter to come and take their order

you walk on over, a pretty smile on your face and sweet voice greeting the three of them and ask for their order, and Bi Han is enraptured by your beauty

his eyes trail over your body, and he notes how there’s clearly some muscle build-up in your arms and legs, especially your ample chest

but he tries to hide his feeling, just grunting out his order as Tomas and Kuai Liang ask for today’s special and anything you would recommend

you smile and laugh at Tomas’s joke, and Bi Han shoots him a dirty glare, but then shakes it off because it’s not like the two of you are dating or anything

you take off with their orders, and Tomas smiles back at Bi Han with a shit-eating smirk, and Bi Han growls at him to not say a single word

Madam Bo comes over soon after you’ve left and asks the three of them how they’re doing, and they all respond cordially

she asks whether her granddaughter is treating all of them well, and Bi Han figures that all the muscle in your body comes from training in martial arts

you come back soon with their drink orders, and Madam Bo introduces the three of them to you and says you should train with them, that they’re some of the best and that Bi Han is the grandmaster of them all

you light up at her words, clearly excited to go and improve your martial arts skills, and Bi Han reluctantly agrees, he respected Madam Bo a great deal and would allow this

after dinner, you tell them to pick you up in one week as you’ve got some unfinished business to take care, and he grunts out an agreement before leaving with his brothers

but he can’t hide the small blush on his face without the mask and hopes you didn’t see it

as agreed, he comes back a week later and picks you up by himself

you’ve packed light, only the essentials and an extra pair of clothes, and he hums approvingly, eyes maybe lingering a bit too long on how the uniform fits your body perfectly

he takes you to the Lin Kuei base, and you unpack and immediately start your training with fighting against some of the lower-level foot soldiers

but you prove to be much more formidable than he had thought

he watches from his own training area as you easily dispatch of the foot ninjas, letting them come at you in groups at a time and taking them down in a flash

you may not have any special power, but you certainly had the hard work and training and muscle to prove your strength

by the end of the day, you’re hardly covered in a scratch, some sweat beads at your hairline but otherwise you look unaffected as you bow and head off to the showers to wash off the day’s grime

Bi Han watches as you walk away and feels his heart stutter in his chest as your hips sway back and forth

Tomas pokes at his arm teasingly, and Bi Han swipes at him with an ice spear, but the assassin disappears into a cloud of smoke, only his laughter echoing in the air

the next day, you ask Tomas to a duel, smiling teasingly, and Tomas agrees

Bi Han stands on the sideline, officiating the spar and calls for the spar to start, and for a moment, nothing happens, the both of you sizing each other up

finally, you strike first, and Tomas retaliates, dodging and disappearing as you go to hit him

but you quickly learn his weak spots and land a few quick strikes on him, and he lands a few hits on you as well

it’s mesmerizing, and Bi Han watches in fascination as you move like water on the ground, moving effortlessly and redirecting your momentum and energy rather than fighting against it

you lose, caught in a moment of weakness when your eyes glance over to Bi Han, and Tomas has you pinned down to the floor

you yield, and he gets off of you, and you two bow towards each other before Tomas engages in a much more friendly conversation with you

he offers to train you, and Bi Han stalks up to the both of you, ordering Tomas to go on some useless errand, and Bi Han tells you he will train you personally

you smile and salute him lazily, asking him when the lessons start

he says now and walks into the training field and beckons you to come

he walks you through the basics, making sure nothing was out of place and only makes minute changes to your stance

he moves through the levels of training slowly, making sure all of your stances and hits are perfect, and you move through them patiently, never once complaining

by the end of the night, you’re sweating but have worked through most of the stances and hits with Bi Han correcting you every so often

he tells you good job, and you smile and blush and Bi Han’s glad his mask hides the flush on his cheeks

he tells you to go and grab dinner and wash off the day, and you hurry off while Bi Han goes to the dining hall and tries to get his thoughts off of you

the next day, he meets you for training and tells you to spar with him

you smile and stay light on your feet as you both circle each other, and Bi Han attacks first

you easily dodge, and the two of you engage with each other in a blur of fists, but soon enough, Bi Han has you pinned down to the ground, wrists pinned above you and chest heaving up and down

Bi Han can’t help but blush at the sight of your breasts raising up, and how you’re so exposed to him right now, but he gets off, shaking off the lewd thoughts

you smile and grin and ask him to go again, and he grunts in agreement

the rest of the day is spent sparring, only a small break for lunch where you regale him with tales of tourists coming to Madam Bo’s and hitting on you with terrible jokes

you tell him about one time how a guy decided to get too handsy, and you flipped him on his back in front of everyone

Bi Han tells you good, that’ exactly what you should’ve done, and you grin widely at him

your days are spent training with Bi Han, sometimes Kuai Liang and Tomas when Bi Han gets too busy, and the two of you get closer and closer

you two always make time to eat lunch with each other and sit closer and closer together until the both of you are squished right next to each other despite the ample space

he can’t help himself from thinking about how soft your thigh is pressed against his, and he has to think clean thoughts as his dick starts taking an interest

after sparring that day, you finally beat him, standing over him proudly with the wooden sword pointed at his throat, and he congratulates you

you smile and help him up, giddy that you had finally beaten the Grandmaster, and throw your arms him, wrapping him in a tight hug

he freezes at the contact, and you realize what you’ve done and let go of him apologizing, but he drags you back into his embrace

he buries his face in your neck and breathes in your sweet scent, and his face heats up at the feeling of your chest pushing into him

he finally pulls back, and you stay in his arms and ask him if you can kiss him

he breathlessly tells you yes, and you reach up to cup his face before kissing him softly

he’s not quite sure of how to kiss you at first, having spent his entire life at the Lin Kuei, but he learns quickly and it has you groaning into his mouth

you both part after a few seconds, both breathless and flushed pink, and he clears his throat and averts his gaze from your wide eyes

he escorts you back to your room, and you grab his hand, asking him what this is

he stands quiet for a moment, contemplating whether or not he wants to tell you he’s wanted you since the second he saw you, he wants to tell you how he wants you all to himself, and how badly he wants to fuck you

he just tells you that he wants to court you properly, and you smile and nod before disappearing in your room

Bi Han’s head spins as he returns to his room, and he can’t help himself from pulling out his half-hard dick and pumping himself, thinking about your soft lips

he comes into his hand quietly and cleans himself up and goes to bed, thinking of how to court you properly

he brings you small gifts throughout the days, fills up your plate for you, walks you to and fro from your room to the training rooms, the dining halls, and everywhere else

on your final day at the Lin Kuei, late at night after he’s finished sparring with you, he gives you a soft kiss goodnight but before he can leave, you hold onto his hand and invite him inside, face burning red

he blushes and enters your room and closes the door behind him softly

you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him softly, he deepens the kiss, prodding at your lips with with his tongue, and you let him in

the two of you make-out for a few moments, grinding against each other slowly, and Bi Han can feel his dick hardening

he walks you backward, still kissing you, until the back of your knees hit the bed, and you fall backward

you look like an angel, lips swollen and hair spread around your head like a halo, and Bi Han groans at the sight

he undresses you slowly, slipping off the training uniform, and he traces your soft skin with his fingers, fingertips dragging along the grooves of your muscles flexing underneath his cool touch

you let him explore your upper body, tracing your body and cupping your breasts and softly squeezing them

he gets rid of his own shirt, and you explore him just the same, sitting up to trace your fingers along his arms and his stomach

Bi Han takes off his pants, dick springing upwards, and you undress yourself similarly, and Bi Han drools at the sight of your bare cunt laid out for him

he gets on top of you, cupping your face and kissing you gently as you wrap your legs around his waist and grind your wet pussy into his dick

the both of you just gently grind against each other, small moans of pleasure escaping Bi Han’s lips and little whimpers coming from your throat

eventually he breaks away from your lips and lines himself up with you and slides in slowly

you whine at the stretch, tears pricking at your eyes, and Bi Han kisses them away softly and gently thrusts in and out of you

you’re so warm and tight around him, and he can feel the way your pussy clenches down on him when your moans turn sinful

words naturally come to him, saying that you’ve been so good for him, that you’re such a good girl him and only him, that you’re so beautiful

he tells you that you’ve been so so good, listening to him without complaint, and that you deserve so much more

you whine at his words and beg him to go faster, and he complies with your pleas

he quickens his pace, and the sound of wet slapping fills the room along with your moans and his grunts

you reach one of your hands down to rub at your clit, and he takes note of how it makes your whines increase in pitch and how your pussy spasms around his dick

he kisses you deeply, intertwining your free hand with his, and you cum on his dick, your whines swallowed by Bi Han

he cums soon after you, leaving his dick buried inside of you as he lets his weight fully settle on his body

you groan and tell him he’s too heavy, but he just hums and keeps you pinned down under his body

after a minute, he pulls out of your warm pussy and lays down next to you, and the two of you cuddle and kiss each other until you fall asleep

when Bi Han drops you off in front of Madam Bo’s, you throw your arms around him and kiss him one more time

he leans into the kiss and your both part from each other, and he pulls something out from his bag

it’s a flower made of ice, and you gasp and hold in gently in your hands, afraid it might break

he tells you it won’t melt, he made sure of it, and you thank him quietly and then look up at him and promise to visit as much as you can

you kiss him one more time before you go off and greet your grandmother

Bi Han watches you for a few more moments, and then disappears to go back to base, hoping your next visit is soon

369 notes · View notes

mikaela-the-slut-expert · 3 months

Note

Can you do more angst scenarios where male reader feels like they’re a third wheel and left out? I’m a sucker for angst despite how much it hurts 😭😭

Don't Leave

Hua Cheng x M!reader x Xie Lian

Sorry it took so long, forgive me 🧍

Will make more sense if you've read the book.

Hope you likeee

Ignore grammar mistakes

____________________________________

"Xie Lian, do you like San Lang?"

You had asked out of nowhere. Xie Lian glances at you for a moment and smiles. "I do"

"Very Much?" You press.

"I suppose" He smiles nervously

It was a random question. You and Xie Lian were in Puqi shrine, the morning after San Lang had left. After San Lang left Xie Lian a ring.

It made you feel strange. You love Xie Lian very much and you like San Lang too. However the ring suddenly made you feel lesser.

Recently you guys have had a third helper and San Lang has kind of taken your job. He protected both of you and was very helpful. Yet, you feel a certain itch because of it.

Because Xie Lian likes San Lang.

You feel selfish. You wouldn't have minded so much if Xie Lian had shown interest in both of you but he seems very caught up in San Lang right now. It feels like San Lang is threatening your spot.

It's always been your job to be by Xie Lian's side. You always have been. Always. You grew up together, you stayed with him after the fall of Xian Le, even afterwards when Xie Lian had done morally wrong things you stayed, even when he wanted you to leave with Feng Xin you stayed.

Xie Lian has always been your person. You've always been his person. Lately you've just been feeling left out. San Lang and Xie Lian had been perfectly fine at Banyue Pass by themselves. You had ignored your feelings of jealousy during that time, but after seeing the ring you can't help but feel it ten times worse.

You chalk it up as overthinking and shove the feelings of jealousy down your throat. You have no right to feel these things. Xie Lian shouldn't have to deal with them either. What right do you have to cling on him when he isn't yours? You guys aren't dating and Xie Lian has never expressed love for you.

You ignore it

♡

The feeling you hate so much comes back again. Xie Lian, you, the wind master, and Lan Qinqao all went to ghost city. There was supposed to be a purpose but you never cared. You only went because Xie Lian went. Obviously he would've been fine because guess who's been watching the whole time?

San Lang

San Lang has been here the whole time, he always is it seems. You had to stand there while San Lang and Xie Lian held hands and played dice. You watched as they smiled at each other and touched hands.

It shouldn't idk you so much but it does. The feeling crawls out of your stomach and claws at your throat until you feel yourself physically choking it down. You're being over dramatic. It's just a dice game.

You ignore the glances they send to each other. You don't see the glances they send to you.

♡

The feeling burns on your tongue and churns in your gut when the strange Waning Moon officer -whatever the hell he is- tells Xie Lian that he's invited to Paradise Manor.

Actually you hadn't minded it all. You had walked side by side with Xie Lian ready to see San Lang. You haven't got the chance to talk to him. You were excited, even.

Until the strange officer makes it clear only Xie Lian can come.

So you were just supposed to stay behind? Stand to the side? It upsets you more when Xie Lian only apologizes and says he'll be back to find you. He left you standing there.

You thought you and San Lang were on good terms so why would he not invite you as well?

You chalk it up as a misunderstanding and roam around ghost city. The wind master eventually finds you and the two of you sneak into Paradise Manor dressed as dancers.

Seeing San Lang and Xie Lian on the bed/ couch together helped nothing. It makes you feel worse. They left you out for what? To spend time alone? Being in Paradise Manor felt like hanging around in a place you obviously didn't belong in.

It's a misunderstanding. It's a misunderstanding. It's a misunderstanding. It's a misunderstanding.

You repeat it in your head like a mantra.

♡

Once the incident at Paradise Manor is over you and Xie Lian are finally side by side again. You and San Lang still haven't had the chance to talk. You're hurting but you're positive that you're overreacting. Honestly Xie Lian would never do that to you. You were going to talk about it with him but he was dragged away into court.

Then Xie Lian, basically gets out under house arrest into the Xian Le palace Jun Wu had made him. When you get there Mu Qing and Feng Xin are already there. If you close your eyes you could imagine it being like old times where all four of you are back at the palace running around.

It doesn't last long. A big group of butterflies fly at you all. They don't dare touch Xie Lian. Mu Qing doesn't give you the chance to find out how the butterflies would react to you because he pulls you behind his make shift shield. It seems they doubt your relationship with San Lang too.

When you see San Lang come out of the black pit behind the doors to grab Xie Lian you take your chance though. You aren't just going to stand there. You leave Mu Qing's side and run towards Xie Lian but the doors close on you. The doors close on you. San Lang and Xie Lian left you? Not possible.

You're standing there staring at the doors. You just couldn't believe that they left you to stand there like a fool. It doesn't feel like a misunderstanding, it doesn't feel like overreacting.

Even Mu Qing, who is usually snarky ass, feels bad. He grabs your shoulder gently trying to break you out of your stupor.

"Y/n you should sit this one out. Me and Feng Xin will find them"

"No I-" you blink up at him, lost. "I have to go find A-Lian. He was taken. . ." You point at the door.

Mu Qing's face scrunches. "Xie Lian wasn't taken, he ran off. It was his choice. It was also his choice to leave you y/n. Just let us deal with it."

Mu Qing's words cause him and Feng Xin to bicker but he isn't really lying.

"That isn't what happened, say it as it is! He was obviously taken. Right y/n?" Feng Xin looks at you for support but you can only stare at him like a fish out of water.

"He. . . Ran off"

While you're focused on the door you fail to remember the butterflies hadn't touched you. You fail to notice the die in your robe.

♡

You took Mu Qing's advice and decided to sit this one out. You had never actually been separated by Xie Lian's side before so you don't exactly know what to do while he's running around with San Lang.

You go back inside of XianLe palace and sit where Xie Lian had been sitting before. You have nothing to do besides stare at the table. When you move to sit down something falls out of your pocket though. The closer you look you see it's a die.

Huh, you hadn't noticed that in your robes before. Lucky you it landed on a six. You wish you had that much luck with Xie Lian and San Lang. You pick up the die and hold it in your hands. Your plan was to just play around with it some more but you're suddenly pulled back into a pit of darkness and someone is holding you.

When you look back at your attacker, you see the familiar face of San Lang- well Hua Cheng but he's always been San Lang to you and Xie Lian. "S-san Lang?!"

Your surroundings get clearer and you see Xie Lian too. Honestly you're so happy you could cry, but you don't. You don't know what to say at all because you don't know what's going on. You just allow yourself to be pulled along by San Lang.

Xie Lian and San Lang take a moment to explain what's going on. To explain everything actually. For a minute San Lang looks like he's going to break down and e-ming is making sad squealing sounds.

Turns out everything was a big misunderstanding. San Lang and Xie Lian hadn't meant to leave you out of anything. San Lang had just wanted to do everything for the two of you, he wasn't thinking that his actions seemed like he was taking your job. He had most definitely invited the both of you, and he was very irritated with his officer. San Lang hadn't meant to leave you when he took Xie Lian. That's why he gave you the die. Since Xie Lian rolled the die he was able to get him. He could only come back to grab you once you rolled the day.

It was just a lot of miscommunication, really. You don't realize your crying until Xie Lian is wiping your eyes with his sleeves. You were crying out of relief. You had genuinely thought Xie Lian and San Lang were leaving you out but they were never doing such a thing.

San Lang and Xie Lian are very close to you after that and apprehensive to leave your side at all.

#tgcf #hualian #tgcf headcanon #hualian x reader #hua cheng x reader #tgcf x male reader #xie lian x reader #tgcf hua cheng #tgcf hualian #tgcf xie lian #mxtx tgcf #tgcf angst #tgcf hurt/comfort #tgcf headcanons

271 notes · View notes

ghostchems · 2 months

Text

bad idea right? - raphael x f!tav (part three)

you set foot into raphael's kingdom without a chaperone to retrieve the hammer he's promised you.

author's note: read part one/two. sorry for taking so long with the next installment. 4.2k words! there's lots in here. haarlep makes an appearance (of course). cunnilingus, face sitting, blowjob, rough sex, overstimulation. ao3 link.

You only caught a glimpse of the House of Hope when Raphael whisked you away during your first meeting but now you’ve nearly been through it top bottom. Yes, he told you to come here and go straight to the boudoir to retrieve the Orphic Hammer but were you really going to give up the opportunity to go through all his stuff? Of course not.

His house floats in the desolate hellscape of Avernus, yet he has no allegiance to Zariel as far as you’re aware. It’s moody and dramatic, two key adjectives for Raphael himself. The archive is overflowing with infernal knowledge, bookshelves from floor to ceiling and his prized possessions on display as if it’s a museum. The dining room is just as grand as you remembered it but with a hint of unease due to the rotting food. He knew he was having company - shouldn’t he have at least cleaned up? You attention is pulled from statues of devils to portraits of himself to the grapes and wine and hookahs seemingly strategically left throughout the house. You fine yourself drawn to the many balconies that oversees the green souls keeping the house afloat. You wonder what would happen if you fell. Will your soul be dammed? Will your bones turn to ash? Will you shed your human body and be stripped down to the delicious soul you are?

You may have learned more about Raphael in the last half hour than all of your other meetings combined. Much to your companions ire, you’ve stopped to speak to every single debtor. They’re broken. Broken souls worn down to the very essence of their being, cursed to toil away in eternity in Raphael’s House of Hope. Something about it… tickles you. He’s been nothing more than “helpful” since you’ve met him, sure the threats have always been there, but seeing what he is actually capable of with your own two eyes makes you remember what he is. A devil. A cambion, specifically. He could turn you inside out with the snap of his finger. But he doesn’t. He’s touched you instead, slithered his way between your legs just as the tadpole has wormed into your brain. Does he see you as a formidable ally? Or another plaything to break down? You wonder if Raphael has already started on you — if this is apart of your deal, scribbled in infernal (a language you can’t read) on your contract.

The thought makes you shiver. It makes you want him all over again. Even if he hasn’t started trying to wear you down… you hope he’ll try.

Speaking of Hope. You didn’t know what to expect when he gave you the order to steer clear but it certainly wasn’t a dwarven cleric being held captive in his basement. She accosted you the moment you set foot into her home, begging you to help her. You smiled and told her you would, the hero that you are. It was a lie, of course. She is desperate and broken but she still clings to her namesake. You can understand why Raphael would keep her — she rebukes his every advance and won’t give up her optimism. She believes she can be saved, and maybe she’s right but your hands are tied. Still, the thought of him having her here to continue to torture when he could be focusing that energy on you. You decide to at least bring it up to him the next time you see him, which has yet to be “scheduled”. Part of you wants him to be waiting for you in the boudoir, hammer and a glass of wine in hand.

“For all the sense of dread and horror seeping through this place I really feel quite at home.” Astarion chirps, tearing you away from your thoughts in an effort to get you back to the task at hand. He’s far more understanding than the others and at this point you’re not sure what you would do without him. You offer him a small smile and start to lead your merry group of companions to the boudoir. A crowd, certainly. But this should be easy — pop in, take the hammer which is the salvation for all of Faerūn and then have a pint at Elfsong (and maybe a visit from a certain devil later that evening).

The boudoir is expansive and you can see why it is held in such high esteem by the debtors. There’s a large, steaming bath surrounded by more grapes and wine. You fight off the urge to dip a toe in. There are several desks with journals, quills, books all stacked on top and large canvas paintings of hellish scenes and dark portraits. If these walls could talk…

You see sparks out of the corner of your eye, your head twisting to see an empty space where you companions once stood behind you. A trap. This is a trap. Your chest tightens and you swear to yourself, you should have known something wasn’t right. Anger boils within you and a readiness rises to swing your blade at the next living, breathing thing that comes into your eye line. You keep your hand firm on the handle of your sword and move deeper into the spacious room. Are you a fool to have fallen for Raphael’s trickery? Or is he really that good? Even in the face of potential betrayal,

“Raphael?!” You are bewildered, mouth agape and eyebrows furrowed. The devil gives a delighted laugh as he slinks to his knees, his wings stretching out behind him. You blink a few times, overwhelmed just by the sight of him — displayed in all his glory in a leather harness, even though you are sure this is some sort of trick. The second he opened his mouth, you knew. You suck in a deep breath, steeling yourself to focus.

“No, no, love… has he not told you about me?” Haarlep bares his fangs in a sinister smile, creeping closer to you at the edge of the bed. His tail slithers back and forth behind him, dangerous yet playful. You open your mouth to respond but he cuts you off — “I’ve heard quite a bit about you, mouse.” Warmth blossoms in your chest. He talks about you? Haarlep swings his legs over the edge of the bed and lifts himself to his feet, his body becoming the only thing you could possibly focus on. He lingers in front of you and eyes you as if you are a delicious meal, his tongue wetting his lips and a low hum rumbling from his chest. “A pretty little toy, aren’t you?”

“I… no, he hasn’t told me about you.” Confusion. Utter confusion. And, is it… is it hot in here? You’re sweating — you can feel it on your brow. “I’m here for the hammer.” Back to business. “We made a deal and he said it would be here.” Your voice strains, a mix of frustration and being so completely lost in the situation.

“A shame.” Haarlep purrs and leans in closer, leering over you with a sharp smile. “I am not too surprised though — how does one bring up having their own personal incubus who takes their form in casual conversation?” A claw runs along your jaw, the tip of his nail giving you goosebumps. From your adventure in Raphael’s house, it was easy to come to the conclusion that he has a plethora of kinks but this — this is something else. “You’re here for the hammer, that is correct, my dear, but you are also here to play.” His tail starts to slink up your leg and warmth starts to pool in your core.

“B-but Raphael —”

“You have his permission, mouse. And, fun fact about me using Raphael’s likeness — he’ll be able to feel everything we do. He’s expecting it, in fact, and I’m sure he’s looking forward to it.” Haarlep’s claw closes around your chin and forces you to gaze into his familiar burning eyes. Black holes. You feel their pull. “Perhaps he is conducting business right now — could you imagine? Him trying to make a deal while being able to taste you on his lips?” A jolt of arousal rushes through you, bringing a blush to your cheeks. Haarlep’s lips twitch into a devilish grin as you fall right into his grasp. The image he’s painted for you is beyond tempting; having Raphael be helpless to your touch while he’s off doing his devilish duties, desperate to conceal his erection. And, well, you have his permission, don’t you?

Haarlep lets go of your chin and swishes by you, his warm bicep brushing your shoulder and his tail flicking against your ankle. Your eyes trail after him, catching a glimpse of his toned back and his wing joints, veins bulging from the taut skin. You wonder if Raphael’s looks the same. It dawns on you that you haven’t seen much of his skin, in fact, you haven’t even seen his cock yet despite him spilling his seed inside you. You swallow thickly and take a step back, the backs of your knees hitting the foot of the bed.

“Cat got your tongue, mouse?” Haarlep moves in closer to you, the heat radiating off his body making your chest flush.

“No.” You answer sharply before slowly sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning back on your palms and spreading your legs wide. His eyes rake over your figure, tilting his head to get a better look at you. You say nothing but Haarlep understands and sinks to his knees in front of you with his head settling at eye level. A hand rests on his chest, coarse hairs underneath your fingertips as you start to wander lower. Haarlep’s arms curl around your back, the tip of his nose just about touching yours as his body makes your legs spread even more. The heat between you is palpable and only continues to grow while you start to stroke at the ridges along his hips. It’s unusual for Haarlep to get this sort of attention, from both guests of the House and Raphael himself.

“You do not deserve to call such a man ‘Master’.” He can’t help it, locking eyes with yours. His words sting but the feeling is quickly washed away by his tongue slipping into your mouth. The breath leaves your lungs, sinking into the hellfire that is Haarlep. Nothing matters but how he tastes you in a deep kiss, his claws pricking at delicate skin beneath your sleeves. You top is gone in a matter of seconds and whether your helped him take it off of you or it disappeared with magic is beyond your at this point. All you want to do is feel. He breaks the kiss and brushes his lips along your jaw, his teeth nipping right where it meets your earlobe. You pull him closer by his harness until he is flush against you. Haarlep trails kisses further down your neck and your collarbone, sucking and biting enough to draw gasps and hums from you. He gently guides you to lay down on your back, his entire body enveloping you until he starts to move his mouth lower and lower.

Each kiss is like an explosion of sensations along your skin, buzzing and burning yet feeling so deliciously blissed out. You’re melting into the mattress, melting into him, each touch of his taking more and more of you. He leaves a trail of goosebumps in his wake, his mouth then closing around your nipple. His tongue flutters around your hardened peak, making you tip your head back as you give a breathy moan. His hands are somehow everywhere all at once; Fingers feather through his hair and then settle at the base of his horns while he continues his descent. You feel him mouth around your navel with light scrapes of his teeth, his hands slinking down to tug at your pants. He takes his time, pulling them down inch by inch, lavishing kisses across your hip bones. You wriggle out of your pants, growing impatient but not wanting to order him.

Haarlep tongue lazily traces your clit and a ragged gasp escapes your lips, a jolt of pleasure rocketing through you. He laps at your slick folds, groaning at the taste of you and presses his face into you, his nose settling just at your clit. Your grip on his hair tightens and you can’t stop yourself from giving it a sharp tug as you squirm and huff. His claws curl around your thighs, the tips of them digging into the tender flesh of your inner thighs. You’re seeing stars, his tongue pressing into you so deeply while he grunts and laps at your juices. Your back arches off the mattress, your mouth hanging open and spilling hoarse moans. It’s devastatingly sensuous, your temperature rising to a comfortable simmer as your mind starts to clear. This could be forever, couldn’t it? You could stay here with Haarlep’s head between your thighs, devouring you until nothing else matters.

Your hands close around two of his horns and your hips start to roll, tugging him with each of your fluid movements. He growls into your cunt, making your thigh and core muscles tense, a deep groan falling from your lips. You’re so far gone yet so close to the edge, his tongue laving at your core as his claws dig even dipper into your thighs. The fire in your abdomen is raging, overwhelming you almost to the point of no return with soft moans turning to deep whines. You hear a rumbling groan, one too deep to be Haarlep’s, just as your dam bursts. Your eyes flutter open and you see him — Raphael — in cambion form with his navy blue doublet and a smug expression on his face. A broken sob heaves from your chest, Haarlep savoring the taste of your cum.

“Enjoying the amenities, are we?” Oh, he sounds so pleased with himself. If you had any energy you would mouth off but all you’re able to muster is a dramatic eye roll. Raphael slinks out of view, the bed dipping behind your from his weight. He had planned for this, the bastard. Your mouth is still slack and your heart is still pounding, trying to come down from an impossible high when Haarlep grips you by the hips and flips you over, your chin nearly landing in Raphael’s lap. He grabs you, his claw nearly clasped around your entire head and lifts you so that you’re looking up at him, though he makes sure you’re able to get a nice view of how hard he is through his trousers. “You taste sweet, little mouse. It’s only fair that you taste me after how wound up you’ve got me. Allow me to assist in getting you started.” His voice is dangerously low, glee in his fiery eyes as he unlaces his trousers, freeing his leaking cock**.**

It renders you speechless, larger than any cock you’ve seen before and it’s ribbed, a pearl of pre-cum already collecting at the top. Your jaw drops and Raphael takes this as an opportunity, forcing your mouth around him and guides you down his length. You groan as soon as you taste him, his cock heavy on your tongue as you run it along the underside, feeling every bulging vein. He’s so large that you drool and gag once he hits the back of your throat, swallowing and trying to breath comfortably. Haarlep is lurking behind you but you’re too focused at the task at hand to notice — until it’s too late. He positions his head between your legs, this time underneath you, his horns flush with your stomach, hands digging into your ass as his tongue savors your folds.

A moan of surprise rumbles up your throat and your head wrenches backward. Raphael’s grip on your head tightens and forces you back down his length with a violent tug. You’re eyes are watering and you struggle to breathe with his pulsing cock shoved down your throat while Haarlep toys with your clit, pinching it between his fangs and flicking his pointed tongue. Raphael bucks his hips into your mouth, fucking your face as he growls with need. You whimper around him, your vision blurring further from the tears in your eyes and the building tension in your core. You feel helpless, used. It’s the first time with Raphael you’ve felt you didn’t have the upper hand, or at least a cool head. The devils have reduced you to a mewling mess, a toy for them to play with. You mindlessly grind you hips against Haarlep’s face and he groans into you, his nose pressing firmly into your clit. A choked sob falls from your lips, your fingers digging into the sheets and your skin buzzing.

“Your lips are so pretty around my cock, mouse.” Raphael croons and tilts your head up so he can see you. Your cheeks are flushed and streaked in tears, your lips swollen and eyes half-lidded. He would paint you if he wasn’t so preoccupied by that mouth of yours. Hmm, perhaps he could paint your face. His claws dig into the sides of your head as he pulls you off of his cock, his other hand giving himself a few strong pumps before spilling his seed on your face. You’re panting, gasping for air as you sink forward, your cheek landing on the soft sheets. Raphael lifts himself off the bed but you’re too tired to lift your head to watch him, instead focusing on steadying your breath.

“You’ve had your fill.” He sneers and pulls Haarlep out from underneath you who gives a frustrated snarl. There’s some bickering but you’re too overstimulated to listen. After a moment Raphael’s claws settle on your waist with a low hum. He says nothing as he drags his cock along your dripping folds and you give a sharp whine, scrambling to adjust yourself. Your hips press back into him, sinking himself deep inside you with a calculated thrust. Primal lust explodes and courses through your body as you give a broken sob, your legs trembling and your core tensing while you ease his size. One large claw rests on the side of your head, nearly covering your eyes with his long fingers, and he clamps down on you, your face smushed against the mattress. His hips buck wildly against your ass, his pace brutal and punishing but you are basking in it, pushing back into each of his thrusts.

You feel his devilish strength, each roll of his hips sending you forward, your face buried in the covers as you cry and whine in twisted pleasure. Raphael has you laid bare. You’re nothing but a hole to him right now, a means to get him off just as he uses Haarlep. But there’s something about it that sends shivers down your spine: the possessiveness of it all. His claw is splayed out over your head, his other one digging harshly into your hip, slicing your flesh and making you bleed. The only thing on his mind is having you, having you in his true form, exerting his strength over you until you’re a quivering mess. He wants to fill you. Raphael hikes your ass up even higher and fucks into you, the new angle making your toes curl. You moan his name and he gives a pleased purr, driving into you quicker and harder.

You body feels as though it splits apart, overcome with your white hot climax. He rest his entire body weight on you now, crushing you beneath him as he buries himself deep inside you, over and over. His hot breath fills your ear, sharp and strained. You’re shivering, tears staining the sheets. Raphael utters one last hiss, teeth grazing your ear as he spills himself inside you, his hips slowing with each pulse of his cock. He’s on top of you until he’s spent, his nose nuzzling into your hair.

You can’t feel your limbs. Your body is trembling, your voice hoarse in your throat as you manage a weak protest. Raphael has you on your back in the blink of an eye, his tail slithering up your hips while he slots himself between your legs, using his knees to spread them further. His board is hard against yours, his clothes having disappeared. Your breath catches in his throat at the pressure of the top of his hard cock against your entrance. Surely you couldn’t take any more of this? You feel like you are about to melt away physically and mentally, your body limp and your brain fogged from the intense overstimulation. Raphael’s massive claws close around both your wrists, pinning them to the bed as his forearms cage you beneath him. The edge in his fiery eyes has softened and his nose drifts along your cheek, taking a deep inhale of your scent.

“A delicate little thing, aren’t you, sweetling?” He growls into your ear, his mouth hot and his sharp teeth pricking your skin. You open your mouth to answer but Raphael shifts his hips forward, the head of his ridged cock easily slipping inside you, the words getting caught in your throat. He hums against your ear and then drags his sharp tongue down the side of your neck. Your eyes roll back, squeezing them shut as he gives a languid thrust and pushes in to the hilt, a loud gasp forcing its way up your throat. Arms slip around his broad shoulders, body arching into his and you feel yourself start to disappear. Raphael lifts his head and hovers his mouth above yours. A groan vibrates up his chest to his throat, his lips parted as he continues at a lazy pace. He can’t get enough of your reactions, your cheeks flushed a delicious shade of pink, your lips swollen from how he fucked your face earlier and those sweet, breathless sounds that are spilling from them.

This is a stark contrast from how he had just taken you, his hips circling in slow, sensual movements that has your core twisting in arousal despite your exhaustion. His own deep moans send current after current through you, reigniting your passion and need for him. You bring your hips up to meet his with each thrust and he bares his teeth as your writhing grows more fluid. Raphael releases your wrists so that he can drag one of his sharp claws down your collarbone and along your side, leaving scratch marks. You move your hand to his hair and you realize this is the first time he’s been comfortably within grasp. Self control out the window, you touch his pointed and then bravely run your fingertips over his horns. Despite looking rugged and razor-sharp they’re smooth beneath your fingers. You wrap your hand around one of them and give it a gentle tug.

“Mouse.” The word is strained, sounding like a warning or potentially a challenge. You take the gamble and pull on his horn again. Raphael shudders, an uncontrolled moan spilling from his lips. His mouth drops open, lips curled into a blissful smile. You hum in response, feeling a deep flush in your chest from his reaction. His eyes sharpen as the feeling passes, slowing his thrusts and silence falling between you. Your breath catches in your throat, tension in your chest, your mind hurdling a million miles an hour suddenly because you feel like you’re in trouble. Raphael slowly moves his claw to curl underneath your chin, eyes locking with his. He groans, his entire body rumbling against you and leans in, capturing your lips. It’s shockingly gentle, passionate that only increases with his need to consume you. His hips jerk, tail wrapping tightly around your leg only to peel you further apart as he picks up his thrusts again. Your tongue runs along his sharp fangs and he purrs into your mouth, biting down on your tongue and lip playfully.

You’re all too aware of the way he throbs inside you, his ridges massaging your walls in a way that makes you see stars. Raphael’s growling grows deeper, vibrating through him as his pace starts to grow ragged, frantic and out of time. He gives a strangled hiss into your mouth, his body shuddering while he empties himself inside you. You’re already so full that it seeps down the insides of your thighs. Raphael breaks the kiss and presses his nose to your flushed cheek, catching his breath.

“I won’t stop. Not ever. Not until I own you completely.” A hot whisper of the clearest words he’s ever spoken to you. You sink further into the mattress, melting away as he rises over you, his red wings ruffling behind him. His obsession with you is written all over his face, his eyes taking in every part of your exhausted body, plotting more ways to keep you in his bed. He cracks his neck and his expression hardens in an effort to get back to the business at hand, though you feel one of his hands stroke at your arm.

“Rest now, mouse.”

Comfortable darkness envelopes you.

#raphael x tav #bg3 raphael x tav #raphael bg3 x tav #bg3 raphael #raphael #what do i even tag this ahahaaa #oo haarlep!#haarlep #haarlep x tav #haarlep x tav x raphael

198 notes · View notes

aph-mable · 9 months

Text

dpxdc; My Uncle is Nuts.

My Uncle Is A Nut

Written by:

Aph-mable

@thegatorsgoose

Having been announced the heir and Co ceo of D.A.L.V co, Danny has gotten used to being dragged to formal events with Vlad against his will. Getting caught up in saving one of the many galas he’s forced to attend, Danny catches the eye of one Lex Luther.

Chapter 1

Danny tries hard not to sigh for the umpteenth time as Vlad drags him towards another group of rich folks and reporters.

When his Godfather had publicly announced Danny as his heir during one of his mayoral speeches he thought he was going to die all over again from sheer embarrassment and frustration, especially when he started calling Danny out of class to work on ‘special’ projects or drag him to Gala’s like this one.

Usually at least one member of team Phantom would come along, usually Sam since her parents often forced her to attend anyway, unfortunately this time everyone was busy.

Sure Danny could have asked, but he didn’t want to take away what little free time they had during spring break, so for now he was going to face this party on his own. After all nothing really interesting happens at these and he’s not going to end up socializing much anyways.

At the moment Vlad had rolled him over to a group of men who were chatting away about their latest technology, a nerdy looking yet buff reporter taking notes on everything.

Danny was only half listening to what was being said when the frootloop budged in, something about wanting to partner up with Wayne tech since DALV co was already partnered with Lex co.

He could only roll his eyes and cringe as his crazy arch nemesis wrapped an arm around the shoulders of the bald ceo who looked just as done as he felt.

Seeing Vlad finally to distracted with his deals Danny took his chance and snuck away, moving his wheelchair as fast as possible to make a break for it, away from the party and to explore the building. maybe even escape if he was lucky.

Unfortunately as he reached one of the doors the pesky security stopped him, saying he needed to stay within the building, so he pulled out the oldest trick in his book.

“I have to go to the bathroom, can you at least point me to it?” He even pulled out his pleading eyes to look as innocent as possible to make the security guards feel uncomfortable.

“It’s through those doors over there, just across from the kitchen… do you want-” before the guard could finish Danny was already zooming to the door and shouting, “No thanks, byye!”

Once out of sight he at least made an effort to head towards where the bathroom was but stopped in front of the kitchen.

First double checking all sides of the hallway, he pushed himself into the kitchen in search of something to tinker with. Danny swears he will drop dead if he doesn't get some kind of technology in his hands.

When he entered the place was completely empty of any staff. makes sense as they had set up a huge buffet in the main hall and had all the kitchen staff stand against the wall to show who cooked what, like it was some kind of grand show.

This left Danny to ‘borrow’ a few appliances, they’re rich they can afford it!

He ends up taking a toaster, a blender, and some kind of cylinder air fryer, stuffing them all into his magic bigger-than-it-looks bag and bolting out of there as fast as his wheels could take him so as to not get caught.

Once he re enters the gala he parks himself in the furthest corner near a window. He starts pulling out his mini tool kit and the items he took, trying his best to hide them by making them semi invisible so it just looked like he was messing with his tools as he gets to building an ecto gun.

Danny tried to stay alert and scan the room on occasion but nothing much was happening, Vlad was still bragging to the group of men, and there were only three other kids around his age hanging out on the opposite side of the room. One looked ready to pass out while the other two stood next to the door arguing over who’s dog was best.

Danny pulled his goggles down over his eyes and rolled up his sleeves so his specialized gloves could start putting power into the ecto gun. He quickly starts to hyper focus as he tinkered with the homemade gun, his mind drifting off to play among stars that were just out of reach.

Even with everyone talking around him it all faded to white noise, finally quiet enough he now focused his power to flow through the machinery as he twisted the screws into the right place.

His very core sang with how peaceful it was as he finished making the home made ecto gun and set it down in his lap.

Just as Danny turns it invisible to put it away, his chair is suddenly jerked as he’s dragged towards the now frightened guests, a group of men dressed in green and purple question marked suits threaten everyone into a corner as they start setting up strange equipment.

Clutching his invisible weapon tightly in his lap one of the goons tries threatening him with a gun, but before Danny could react Vlad steps in front of Danny, letting out an instinctual growl to make them back off.

The goon rolls his eyes before directing them to where he wants them to go, trying hard to not let his hands shake too badly as he thrust more people into the now overcrowded corner, keeping watchful eyes on Vlad who is seconds away from losing his temper and ripping someone's throat out.

Now most people in this situation would just listen to their captors, sit still, be quiet, all that jazz, especially with how many of the goons were now bringing in strange green canisters of gas that gave off the scent of pure fear.

Yet as Danny rams Vlad’s ankles with the wheels of his chair it's pretty clear he wasn’t like most scared civilians. For once he was siding with his godfather as he was very, very angry. Angry that they were targeting innocent people, angry that Vlad was treating him like he was helpless, angry that he had to show up to this stupid gala in the first place… He had noticed some of the other kids giving them the slip earlier, at least there’s that.

Just as they bring in the last canister one of the goons trips and nearly brakes open the container, which got the already annoyed second incharge to yell at them.

“For fucks sake! Be careful with those things, we don’t even know what they’ll do yet!”

The younger looking goon, who looks barely out of their teens, shrinks away as they whimper out an apology. He sets the items down as others around them either stare in frustration or sympathy.

Yeah, no.

“Wow you people are pathetic.”

The second in command turns at Danny’s outburst, taking a step forward and clenching his fists. “What the fuck did you just say?” Danny rolls his eyes before glaring at the goon “I said you’re pathetic, did you get that or do you need me to repeat myself again?”

The crowd looks on in half horror, half shock as the leader walks up to Danny, resting his hands on his arm rests and leaning down to stare at Danny threateningly. Danny leans back in his wheelchair and looks up at him with a bored expression, unphased. Vlad tries to shove his way to Danny, but is held back by several goons. Danny spares a quick glare at his godfather, he has everything under control.

“I may be a criminal, but even I don’t like kicking a kid when they’re already down.” The goon says, moving his eyes down to glance at Danny’s wheelchair and back up again, glaring into his eyes. “So I’m going to give you one last chance to take that back.”

Danny narrows his eyes at the goon as he clutchs the invisible ecto gun in his lap, it’s now or never. With near inhuman speed he quickly reaches for his bag and pretends to pull the weapon out, aiming it right at the goons temple. There’s audible gasps from the crowd as the goon stumbles away with wide eyes before gaining his footing and going right back to glaring.

“And I’m going to give you one last chance to reconsider what you’re doing with your life” Danny smirks at the goon, already reading up the lecture in his head.

“It’s 30 minutes past start time, what is taking you so-“ Danny’s smirk evolves into a full shit eating grin as the Riddler walks in to scold the goons, what perfect timing.

With the crowd distracted Danny uses his other hand to unlock his phone. With a few simple swipes, Danny has the gala on lockdown. With the main asshole inside.

Perfect.

_____________________________________________________________

Damian puts on his Robin suit with trained proficiency once they make it to the cave. Unfortunately he and Jon were the only ones able to leave on time, the rest of the family having been dragged away. Truly, this proved that he had good reason to not mingle with the crowd. It had nothing to do with the noise. Or the lights. Or the small talk.

Truly.

“Who do you think it is this time?” Jon asks, an excited smile on his face. But even while being carried, Damian could see the tension in his frame, the nervous tick in his brow. His friend was worried. “I mean, they have the question mark thing going on, but they also had the gas canisters which I don't think the Riddler does that? And the gas itself kinda smelled like lavender and hazelnuts like fear gas but it was also kinda minty? And not like candy cane minty but like straight mint leaf minty? I don’t know, I only know there’s a difference cus ma tried to make mint tea that one time cus she was super sleep deprived and she read online that mint tea could improve memory or something, that stuff reeked!” Another indication of Jon’s nervousness, rambling. By the time Jon had finished his rant, they had already made it to the gala.

Once he’s put down Damian dusts himself off and turns to Jon. “It is most likely a team up, then.” He pulls out his katanas and readys himself for the fight ahead. “Once you break down the door our job is to stall long enough for the others to get out. We don’t know what the gas can do, so keeping the containers safe is our top priority.” As much as it pains him to admit, just him and Jon won’t be enough to handle it themselves. There’s too many people, and they need some of the bats to disperse around Gotham in case the riddler has set up a larger plan.

Jon smiles at him and nods, hopping from foot to foot in excitement (which he doesn’t find adorable at all). “You ready?” Damian gives a sharp nod before Jon kicks in the door.

“-I mean COME ON, people would PAY you to have a chance at your game show! You could even do your whole “riddle me this!” Thing as it’s own segment! But noOOOOooo, you wanna risk the lives of countless civilians so you can get a fucking furry to answer your stupid riddles, most of which aren’t even original! And NOW you wanna partner up with a fear junky cus why?”

“I-“ a clearly startled Riddler tries to answer before being interrupted.

“Oh yeah, cus your BUDDY, your PAL scarecrow, thought it would be so FUNNY to release an UNTESTED gas in a gala for a fucking THRILL HIGH.”

But instead of a fight they walk into.. this.

A wheelchair bound boy with black hair and blue eyes (who he’s sure his siblings would call “adoption bait”) holding a strange silver and green gun that looked straight out of one of Damian’s sci-fi mangas, at a confused and startled Riddler. It seems the crowd used this as an opportunity, as the rest of the goons were restrained near the walls by a mix of his family, Kent, and various gala attendees, while the middle of the room was occupied by the armed boy.

“Huh?” Jon let his arms rest at his sides as his head tilted to the side in confusion (it does NOT remind him of a confused puppy, absolutely not). However before Damian could say anything, it seems the boy has finally noticed them.

“Oh, you’re here. Took you long enough.” The boy finally puts the gun down and into a bag at his side. “Have fun.” He says in a bored tone as he turns and starts pushing himself in the direction of a man with silver hair, Vlad Masters, who met him in the middle only to start fussing over him, seemingly much to the boy’s annoyance.

Finally shaking off their shock both Damian and Jon rush to detain the Riddler until the police show up, yet Damian’s curiosity keeps bringing his eyes back to Master’s and his ward. outwardly, the concern seemed genuine, but with how the boy was reacting to just being touched by Master’s… made him think otherwise.

Even Lex Luthor was side eyeing the man instead of resuming his chatter with father or Mr. Kent, meaning something was happening and Damain was determined to find it out one way or another.

For now though, they have their hands full because of Riddler and Scarecrow.

Domain knew he should have stayed back with Ace.

____________________________________________________________________________

End of chapter 1

#dyslexia #long reads #batfamily #bruce wayne #clark kent #disabled danny #wheelchair au #jon kent #damian wayne #the riddler #scarecrow #patrol partners event 2023 #mild violence #swearing #dpxdc #autistic writers

646 notes · View notes

catherinnn · 1 year

Text

"Can you kiss me again?"

just a little blurb bc I was bored and I can't get this boy out of my head.

It was late in the afternoon, the sun setting on its sunset hours—or golden hour, as Kie called it—you were all at the château after a day of surfing and swimming in the ocean. The guys with Cleo were playing a game of poker, Sarah with Kie and I weren’t paying much attention since we weren’t really good at it, so we just stick to chatting among ourselves right next to all of them like a happy family—just like JJ always said.

“I’m out” Pope sighed and threw his cards on the table.

“Nah, I’m all in” John B. confirmed moving some of the poker chips on the table. “JJ?”

“I’m in, bro” he did the same.

“I didn’t listen to his new album yet, is it good?” Sarah talked with Kie.

“It’s amazing, one of his bests so far. Did you listen to it?” Kie asked you.

“A few songs, not all of it yet. But I liked it so far”

“I think you win this one, I’m out” Cleo continued with the game.

“But what about SZA’s new album, I’ve only listened to Kill Bill because of tik tok, but I’m kind of obsessed with it” Sarah commented.

“Oh my god, It’s amazing, I’ve had it on repeat since it came out” Cleo ignored the guys while they kept playing and joined our conversation.

“Yeah, me too, especially Kill Bill, like you said, Sarah”

“I know, it’s so good right-“

“Wait! No! That’s cheating!” Sarah was cut off by a screaming JJ, who suddenly started jumping on his seat next to you on the couch.

“That’s not cheating! What are you talking about?” John B. defended his move.

“Pope, check if it is cheating, help me out here” JJ demanded.

“It’s not cheating man, he’s right, he won” Pope confirmed.

“Oh, come on man!” he complained.

“You’re just a sore loser, deal with it JJ” John B. grinned.

“That’s so not true,” JJ started again, leaning back on the couch and resting his head on your shoulder, “They’re cheating”

“What happened, J?” you asked in a sweet voice as if he was a baby.

“My cards were higher than his, they’re just complotting against me ‘cause they don’t like when I win”

“Oh, don’t pout like that!” you were dying ‘cause of how cute he was right now. Your hand started stroking his hair to make him feel better, which was working because he just loved your attention on him.

“I’m not pouting” he lied.

“Yes, you are” you told him. You realized you needed something more to make him feel better again, and the best idea popped into your head. “Come here” he looked at you again and the hand that was on his hair came down to his cheek, you leaned closer—more than you already were—and you left soft kisses on his other cheek, moving closer and closer to his lips. One, two, three, four kisses. Until your lips touched his, not yet kissing, you teased a little, touching them with yours for a moment. As you realized he didn’t complain to this, he just stayed there accepting and enjoying your every touch, you dared—without thinking twice—and started kissing him, very slowly, very softly.

He moved his lips just the way you were doing it, like he was following your moves. You moves away, making it a short kiss—after all, this was your first kiss together. He opened his eyes and looked at you as if you were something magical, he was completely mesmerized.

Suddenly, you were brought back from your own little world when you heard hysterical laughing from the boys sat in front of you. JJ happened to be thinking the same because of the way he looked at them, frowning and the little smile he had before long gone.

“Did you see his face?” Pope managed to say in between all of his laughs.

“Was that your first kiss ever, dude?” John B. mocked him.

“That, or he clearly just fell in love” Kie joined in in the mocking.

“Shut up” JJ said. You smirked. After they calmed down a bit, they asked for a round two.

“You wanna play again?” John B. asked picking the cards up from the table.

“No” he simply answered him, later to move his head towards you. “Can you kiss me again?”

You smiled. “All of the kisses you want”

“Oh, he’s gonna be so whipped now” Pope complained.

“Now? You’ve clearly never noticed before” Sarah commented.

“Yeah, he’s been whipped long before that kiss” Kiara confirmed.

“Could you shut up and continue without me?” JJ shut them up and turned to you again, “Now, where were we?”

The evening continued with Pope and John B. trying to teach the girls how to play while you both ignored them, coming back to your own little world together, sharing more kisses with little comments and laughs between you two.

a/n: idk anything about poker so if you do and you read this, I'm sorry lol.

#jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank drabble #outer banks fanfiction #jj maybank

1K notes · View notes

s-4pphics · 9 months

Text

dial. 3 (e.w.)

wc;cw: 3.4K, fratadjacent!ellie, all ocs r black coded<3, angst😞, oc being an empath, self-esteem issues, mentions anxiety and panic attacks, ellie ain’t shit, alcohol, mentions of smoking

playlist :p

It’s been three days since you’ve heard from Ellie.

She left you on read when you reached out the next morning after the party. You tried to get some information out of Dina on her whereabouts, but she shut you down, practically begging you to let you and Ellie’s disastrous relationship rest for your sake. Niah said that she was ready to jump at any moment, but you didn’t want her— or anyone else— in the middle of your conflict. You made a mistake looking to Ellie for approval and you had to deal with it.

But there was some part of you that couldn’t let this go. You’ve been embarrassed by a good number of people in your lifetime, and you wanted nothing more than to crawl into the deepest hole imaginable and never come out whenever it happened, but you’re an adult now. So why is it hitting harder than ever before?

You never understood why people were so put off by your personality. You always craved companionship and were so giving with your heart, but people just can’t… stand you, you’ve realized. A portion of your heart dies whenever you get blasted for being too much, but you can’t help how you feel. All you wanted to do was make people happy and keep them close, but you’ve only managed to scare them off.

You talk a lot, and I don’t think you realize it.

Are you always this… touchy?

Please. Just stop talking for a second.

It comes off really annoying, not gonna lie.

You’re really nice but… I dunno, you’re just a lot sometimes. Just ease up.

You hated that your mom was wrong; kindness, in fact, doesn’t get you where you need to go.

At least you have your aunt. And Niah. They both accept your clinginess with no grudges.

You’ve kept your head down on campus, only going to the library to study and back to your dorm. You cut your usual Starbucks visits completely; Reading without caffeine was killing you, but it was better than seeing and hearing Ellie. Plus, you couldn’t shake the feeling that everybody was staring at you, waiting for you to fuck up so they could get a good laugh.

It was the last day of finals, and you couldn’t wait to go the fuck home. You were sick of being on campus and your self-esteem was at an all-time low. You needed your auntie’s food for revival.

You were desperate for an awfully long break. Hopefully something positive will come of it.

“Take a break from paaacking. Come eat with me, please, I’m starving!”

Your eyes rolled at Niah’s incessant whines. She knew how tedious you were with your luggage; She couldn’t wait another five minutes? —

“I know you’re cussing me out in your head. Your thoughts are loud, remember that!” She squinted at you while kicking her feet like a child throwing a tantrum.

You groaned and threw the sweatshirt you’d been folding back into the drawer. How the fuck did universities get away with giving students two days to pack all their essentials right after finals. As if you had any remaining brain cells to wash and fold your laundry. They’re going to hell, for sure!

“Whatchu wanna eat?” You stretched your arms over your head and stood from the floor.

Niah smirked at you, “Arby’s.”

“… Go to hell— “

She laughed aloud, rolling on her back in her bed, “I wanna fuckin’ sandwich, bro! I dunno why.”

“This is the worst pre-Christmas goodbye dinner we’ve ever had,” you stared at her blankly.

“Bitch, we’ve only had two, stop,” she flipped you off, “Dee would support me, ask her to come.”

You walked over to your desk to pull your phone off the charger, “If she says yes, I’m not going.”

“Yes the fuck you ar— “

“Shut up, it’s ringing,” the dial tone blared in your ear before Dina answered with a blood curdling scream. You instantly put her on speaker phone.

You and Niah looked at each other in concern before Dina calmly said, “Hi.”

“Are you fucking okay? What the hell was that?” Niah shouted.

“… I can’t be excited that the sem’s over?”

“… Girl, I swear to god— “

You interrupted your best friend, “Wanna come to Arby’s with us, friend?”

“…”

You snickered at her silence and Niah screamed, “Fuck both of y’all! Arby’s is top tier— “

“… Is she fucking serious right now?”

“Just come so I don’t have to suffer the meat alone,” you begged.

She scoffed, “… I never thought your gay ass would say that— “

“Please just come with us!”

“Okay! I’m not buying shit, though.”

“You really think I’m about t’pay for my own meal?! Bring your wallet, suga mama!” Niah beckoned.

And Dina hung up on you. This was the loudest you’ve laughed in days.

“On a scale from one to ten: how much d’you hate yourself right now?”

“Negative forty.”

Niah was tearing up her curly fries and smokehouse brisket sandwich like no tomorrow. She looks happy; That's all that mattered, you suppose.

Dina gave Niah her private time with her sandwich and laid her head on your shoulder, whispering, “How are you doing, hon?”

You shrugged lightly, “I’m alright, I guess. I dunno. I’ll get over it at some point.”

“You know I never wanted to see you upset over something like this. I’ve known her for so long and love her a lot but… she’s awful sometimes,” she nuzzled closer and your heart warmed.

“I’ll be okay! I should’ve just listened when you told me,” She didn’t need to know how many times you’ve cried over this recurring situation.

She sighed and let it go, kissing your clothed shoulder, “Jesse wanted to come but he said fuck arby’s.”

“Y’all are gonna stop talkin’ shit about my fav— “

“ANYWAYS!” Dina spoke over Niah. “He said he wants his goodbye hug before we all head out tomorrow.”

“He knows I’ll give him one! I gotta give him his notebook back anyway,” you peered down at her, “Did you know that he doodles you when he’s notetaking? I wanted to cry; they were so fucking cute!”

She sat up to look at you, “No fucking way!”

“Yes way!” Niah concurred, “He wants to get you preg— “

You kicked Niah under the table, and she exploded into a fit of giggles while Dina blushed and twiddled her thumbs.

“… I’ll give him a baby, I guess,” she whispered sheepishly while her cheeks burned.

You and Niah squealed in excitement. Seeing your friends happy and in love made your heart beam with joy.

Finals were finally fucking over!

This was, by far, the sloppiest you’ve ever packed for anything, but you couldn’t wait to see your auntie. You loved being around your friends every day, but you needed your personal schedule back. It’s been so long since you’ve had a self-care day! Your aunt already purchased foot baths and vanilla-scented exfoliant.

You always get a little teary-eyed whenever you have to say goodbye to Niah even though you were only going to be separated for a month. Being apart from your favorite person is always a bit soul-crushing!

You made sure she got on her train safely before powerwalking back to your dorm building. You quickly snatched your bag that held two of Jesse’s physics notebooks before catching the bus to his apartment building. You hoped you could catch him before you go to the airport; You still want a hug!

When you got to the front of his complex, you caught a glimpse of Abby hauling her luggage out of the door with an older couple. Probably her parents!

Since when did she live here? Why have you never seen her around?

Too busy being a whore!

You wanted to apologize for not reuniting with her at the party, but she most likely didn’t remember you. Everybody was lit, and she seemed eager to mingle—

Your racing thoughts were caught off at the light shout of your name. Abby sat her bags down to wave you over, and a large smile grew on your face. You scurried over to where she was and moved to shake her hand, but she gently pushed it away to pull you in for a hug.

“You were really gonna greet me like a fucking grandma?” she laughed quietly in your ear. You shuddered; Even with her coat on, you could feel how strong she was!

“Sorry! I, uh— “

“S’fine,” she pulled away, smiling just as brightly, her cheeks dusted red and snowflakes dusting her lashes, “Missed you at the party.”

You cringed inwardly, “I’m so sorry! I really didn’t mean to leave you like that; I got caught up with… Dina! With Dina— “

“Mhm,” Her eyes were moving over your face like water. “I was gonna— “

“Abby! Who’s this!”

You gazed at the cheesing couple behind her before waving ecstatically at them. They seemed sweet with their joyous tones! And wealthy; You peeped her father’s Gucci puffer. Abby’s blush deepened and she sighed.

“Aren’t you adorable! We’re Abby’s parents— “

You were pulled into warm hugs and given bright greetings while Abby awkwardly shuffled in the corner. You matched their vibrancy, introducing yourself with a genuine grin. You listened intensely while they bragged about Abby being on the Dean’s List two years in a row and how she was going to enroll in the honor roll program.

But Abby had enough of the boasting, “You guys mind putting this in the car for me?”

She gently pushed her carry-on into her dad’s arms, and they both departed with merry goodbyes.

“Sorry, they’re so… yeah.”

“No, oh my god, they seem so sweet!”

She shook her head with a bashful grin. She looked so pretty in the snow.

“I, um…” You started, putting yourself in the hot seat. “I’m really sorry about flaking at the party. I hope we’re… okay?”

“More than okay,” Her tone quieted. “Just as long as you promise to spark with me next time?”

Butterflies exploded in your chest and tummy. You promised to do so with glossy eyes.

“Good,” she smirked before pointing towards her complex. “Needa be checked in?”

“No, just buzzed, if you don’t mind? I’ll only be a couple minutes.”

“Course, c’mon.”

You tried to ignore the fluttering of your heart at Abby’s hand at the small of your back as you trailed through the snow.

Abby ensured you got her number before seeing you onto the elevator. She made her leave with one last weighted gaze at your appearance. The small space was burning up with you in here!

The second you stepped off the elevator, your ears were filled with booming voices from down the hall. The floor was quiet due to its decreased occupancy, so you could hear Dina’s screaming clearly. What the fuck is going on!

You bustled down the pathway until you reached Jesse and Ellie’s front door, and you instantly regretted coming to return his belongings.

“You’re being a fucking cunt, that’s why!”

“I don’t give a fuck!”

Ellie’s angered timbre made you pause at the entrance of their residence. You could’ve sworn she went home already. Why the hell were they fighting!

“She literally did nothing wrong! Why the fuck did you even pursue her in the fucking first place! I told you how she is and now you’re acting surprised that her feelings are hurt!”

The shaky breath you'd been holding left you with the last bit of your dignity. There was no way they were talking about you.

“That’s not my fucking problem! I was clear about my intentions when we first started fucking just like everyone else. She has to deal with that shit on her own time, I’m not a fucking babysitter.”

“It’s not about babysitting! It’s about being a decent human being! Maybe stop leading her on and making her seem like you— “

“I’m not making her seem like shit! She’s clingy as fuck on her own. She would’ve gotten attached regardless.”

The more their argument pursued, the more upset you got. You didn’t realize how tight your fists were clenched until you felt your nails pierce the skin of your palms, but you hardly cared. Your heart was crumbling to pieces and the shards were slicing you open, and the pain overtook your sadness. And fury. You could almost hear your mother scolding about emotional control.

Your breaths got heavier the more you tried to steady them, tears jerking in your eyes while they went back and forth about you.

You didn’t even have time to register how insane you must’ve looked standing at their front door crying before booking it down the hallway, frantically pressing the elevator button so you could get the fuck out of here. You tried to bring yourself back down on the ride to the first floor, but your techniques weren’t working. Your heaves were erratic and coarse, your lungs burning with each harsh exhale through your nose.

The elevator door opened, and you left in a rush, pushing through all the exit doors of the building until you rushed into a larger frame.

You could hear Jesse calling out your name, asking if you were all right and what happened, but you pushed him off you and bolted for the main entrance. You ignored the calls of his name and shoved the doors open, not even bothering to wait for the last bus pick-up. You need to get home now; Your flight wasn’t for another six hours, but you couldn’t stand to be here a second longer.

The tears on your face frosted over as every ridicule from your past and present came crashing down on you on your way to the dorm. The mockery, the bullying, the lies from people you trusted.

No matter where you go, it all follows you like a shadow.

You turned your phone off the second you arrived at the airport.

Going through TSA was such a hassle; You were so disoriented that the security had begun to get suspicious and asked if you had anything to drink before you arrived. And people were staring. Does the humiliation ever stop!

You shut your phone off when you arrived, ignoring the multiple calls from Dina and Jesse, and sent one last message to your auntie about how you couldn’t wait to see her; Ellie even sent you one before your screen went dark. Fuck her apparent guilt; You swore to block her the second you touched down.

You made yourself as comfortable as you could in the airport chairs since you were going to be here a while, and just cried. Your tears fell from the remaining wait hours until boarding.

You calmed a bit when the plane took off, silently thanking your aunt for booking you a window seat. The clouds were always gorgeous during winter.

You felt a little hand gently tap your forearm, and you turned to see a little boy holding a tissue in his hand for you. You cried harder and accepted, bumping your fist against his smaller one as a thank you.

You didn’t sleep the entire plane ride home.

You hugged your aunt like you hadn’t seen her in years.

Shhh, it’s gonna be okay, baby. I promise.

You sobbed into her shoulder the second she stepped out of her car and just held her. And she held you back.

Until the fucking security complained about her blocking traffic. She gave your head dozens of kisses before grabbing your bags to throw into the back seat.

You both scurried into the car and she pulled out driving onto the nearly empty road and parked her car.

“Talk to me. What happened.”

Your breaths were still trembling, but you made one request.

“C-Can,” you cleared your throat when it cracked, “Can we reschedule our self-care day?”

“Of course we can, baby. When do you wanna do it?” Her brows pulled down as she cooed.

“W-When we get home?”

Your aunt flew down the freeway like a bat out of hell.

“I just don’t understand why this keeps happening to me,” you’re going to cry again.

“People just fucking suck. There doesn’t have to be a reason.”

It was three in the morning, and you were still going on about everything that’s happened: how you met Ellie, what you two did over the past couple of weeks, how she talked about you behind your back. You watched your aunt’s hands as she filed your nails to perfection under the beaming lamp while you babysat your mimosa, recalling all the events that happened twelve hours ago.

“Y’know,” she shook her head as she buffed your nails, “Your parents told me they were scared of this happening to you. You’re too fucking sweet for your own good.”

“Because that’s how they raised me! They always wanted me to be the bigger person when something happens.”

Hold your head high and turn the other cheek. All the benefits of that will come later, even if you don’t think they will.

Your dad’s repeated mantra always made you feel lighter when you were young and needed comfort. But now, it’s starting to make you feel guilty because… frankly, you’re still fucking pissed.

Your aunt paused her work to down the rest of her mimosa, shaking her head when she sat the glass down, her eyes boring into your soul.

“I never wanna steer you in the wrong direction, but at some point, enough is enough. People have shit all over you for years, and you allowed it. Did you not confront them when it happened?”

… You stayed silent. She sighed.

You knew your aunt was insightful, but she was never this serious. You always enjoyed being around her because she was fun and allowed you an outlet: the cool aunt who didn’t have rules, but the burning look in her eyes confirmed that she meant every word.

Everyone makes revenge seem negative, but to me… It got me and mom through a lot of shit. Maybe that’s why she never wanted you to think of it as a problem solver.

You recall your aunt sneaking stories about how she and your mom used to jump bullies at school whenever you came home with tears in your eyes from people messing with you, but you never knew the extent of their retaliations. You remember being in disbelief envisioning your mom hurting somebody, even if they deserved it.

“But you’re an adult… you can make your own decision— “

“What’d you have in mind?”

Your aunt’s eyes met yours with an arched brow, the glasses on her face shifting with every twitch of her nose. You shocked yourself.

The corner of her lips came up into a devilish smile. Her shoulders lifted in a cocky shrug.

“I gotta couple.”

You didn’t touch your phone until after the holidays. You and your aunt were having a ball, going shopping and sipping Moscato while you both schemed, and you didn’t want to disrupt the peace with negativity.

When your screen came back to life, an influx of text and missed call notifications rushed through with alarm alerts. Most were from Niah and Dina begging you to return their calls, but you had one… one text from the only person you didn’t want to talk to.

You made sure to answer Niah first.

And then Dina.

You took a deep before opening Ellie’s message and… what the fuck is this—

…

That’s the apology?

She shouldn’t have said all that? Is she fucking serious? Everyone already knows that; She probably never gave a proper apology in her fucking life!

You finally, after years of being tormented and belittled, allowed anger to overtake the graciousness that your parents instilled ever since you were in second grade. Your fingers tapped the keyboard, expression turned in aggravation.

The second you tried to block her, the text bubble popped up.

You nearly snapped your device in two.

The fucking audacity! Your fingers typed out words that you never even said aloud before you paused.

Why the fuck are you wasting your time? She never cared about anything you had to say, anyway. She would ghost you for days, only reaching out to ask if she could smoke you out. You closed your conversation with her, and sparked one with someone who you knew would be of service.

Your heart pounded in your chest when she answered. You suddenly couldn't wait to get back to campus.

hi yall omg

cant wait 2 write p4 LOOOOOL

squirting contest?

taggie waggies love yall down :3 @dyk3ang3l @iced-metal @sawaagyapong @kittnii @mariefilms @villainousbear @pick-me-up-im-scared @dragonasflowercrown @elsmissingfingers @bugaboodarling @freakumfilm @robinismywifee @ohitsjordynn @womenofarcane @inf3ct3dd @nil-eena @kaispaws @letsreadsomesins-shallwe @yuckyfucky @machetegirl109 @ximtiredx @mattm1964 @liabadoobee @tfuuka

teaser, 1, 2, four, five

#fratadjacent!ellie #ellie williams smut #ellie williams #ellie williams au #ellie tlou #the last of us #ellie williams angst #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x black!oc #black!oc #lesbian #Spotify #works 𖧧࣪

457 notes · View notes