#anyways I was reading a really fun fic this morning that made me have him on the brain

[spotaus]

Went out and did some fun stuff today w/ my family (back in town) and I ended up getting my grubby little hands on a Fidget Clicker Thingy shaped like a paint palette that gave me so many Ink vibes I just had to buy it.

[maysileeewrites]

HEAVENLY

Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!reader || 18+, mdni!

Synopsis: It’s this gentle glow, this steady and strong flame within him that you fell in love with, and continue to fall in love with every day. || Or: a glimpse into married life with Jacaerys.

content & warnings: fluff and smut, smut (piv, oral (f), hair pulling, slight praise kink if you squint), established relationship, arranged marriage, light banter, some tooth-rotting fluff as well

masterlist || word count: 3.9k

AN: yes I totally hopped on the Jace hype train, but my man’s just sooo dreamy. I also saw a post pointing out the similarities between him and Robb Stark, and now my love for Jace totally makes sense 😭😭 I loved writing this and I have sooo many ideas for other Jace fics (Robb as well but idk if anyone is still interested in that). Anyways, have fun reading :)

You wake up to warm sunlight streaming through the window, a gentle morning breeze blowing through the room, birds chirping somewhere in the distance. If you really concentrate, you can also hear the gentle lapping of waves against the shore, can smell a faint, salty breeze in the morning air.

You yawn, trying to stretch and to draw the blankets up a bit higher - only to find yourself unable to. 

Even fast asleep your husband is still curled around you, his head resting on the crook of your shoulder, his dark curls tickling your neck, his warm, even breaths ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck, causing you to shiver. His legs are still entangled with yours, and one of his hands is still splayed possessively over your stomach, the other resting on your waist. 

Your waist - where, if you were able to move and stretch, you’d surely see imprints of his fingers on your skin. 

You can’t help it - even just thinking of the previous night’s activities brings a furious blush to your cheeks. 

Jacaerys has always been an attentive lover, gentle yet passionate, and last night has been no different. 

You bite down hard on your lip, remembering.

The way he’d thrusted up into you while you were sitting in his lap, the fingers of his right hand digging into the skin of your waist, steadying you; while his other hand had been between your thighs, his thumb rubbing soothing circles onto your clit while you moved up and down on his cock. 

That had been your third orgasm of the night, and while you already felt overstimulated and exhausted at that point, Jacaerys had seemed to have made it his own personal mission to bring you to ecstasy at least four times that night. 

After he’d gotten you to your peak, he kissed you passionately, and then, without having finished himself, he lowered his face between your legs, coaxing your fourth orgasm from you. 

By that point, you were a quivering, panting mess. Jacaerys cradled your face lovingly, peppering your skin with gentle kisses. 

„You did so well for me, Princess“, he whispered, kissing the corner of your mouth. You smiled exhaustedly, reaching up your hands to wind them around his neck again, drawing him in for another kiss. He shifted, covering your body with his again and you could feel his painfully hard, throbbing length against your stomach, causing you to whine. And though your clit was still swollen and you could already feel a familiar feeling of soreness settling between your legs, there was a familiar heat pooling between your legs yet again. 

While he’d already driven you to your peak four times, Jacaerys had only finished twice, and you couldn’t have to that. So, removing one hand from his neck, you reached between your bodies, positioning his hard length between your legs.

„Princess, what-„, Jacaery‘s question was cut off by the loud, broken moan that left you when you felt him sliding back into you, filling you to the brim. 

„Fuck, Princess“, Jacaerys moaned, looking down at you. You could see the different emotions he was feeling warring on his face - there was that desire to stay gentle and tender and take care of your needs, but there was something else there as well, something darker, more primal, his own lust, a desire to finally find his pleasure.

And so, you tangled your hands in his hair, tugging and pulling at his dark curls the way you knew always drove him insane. 

„More, please“, was all you needed to moan, before Jace groaned, grabbing your legs and hitching them over his shoulder. The new angle allowed him to thrust even deeper and more intensely into you, and soon his thrusts were becoming more and more erratic. 

One of your hands moved to his back, nails digging into his skin, leaving a reminder of this moment. Just like his handprints on your waist. 

And the permanent imprint he’d left on your heart, the moment you made your vows to each other.

It didn’t take long for either of you to reach your peak.

Afterwards, Jacaerys scooped you up in his arms, leaving gentle kisses on your skin, his fingers stroking over your skin gently, his touch once again feather-light. 

You close your eyes, a small smile on your lips, as slow, gentle kisses on your neck bring you back to the present moment. 

„Morning, Princess“, Jacaerys says, his voice still thick with sleep. 

„You’re tense …“, he comments only a moment later, his hand leaving your waist and reaching up to intertwine with yours. 

You feel a blush creep up on your cheeks, which is ridiculous, considering everything that happened last night. Or the night before. 

Or the night before that. 

Any night since you and Jacaerys have been married, really. It’s only been a few months, but still - you always find yourself looking forward to the nights. And the mornings, and sometimes, if you find the time for it, the afternoons as well. 

Before, when you were younger, you’d never imagined that marriage could be like this. You’d heard the stories whispered between some of the older maids, had seen the cold, distant way your parents always interacted with each other. 

And so, when your parents first told you of your betrothal to Jacaerys Velaryon - the first child and heir of Princess Rhaenyra, a rumored bastard- just a few weeks after your eleventh name day, you’d been terrified. 

You were even more terrified when you first met your betrothed two years later, on the feast that was thrown in honor of your thirteenth name day. 

Later, after you were married, Jace had confessed to you that he’d initially thought that you hated him, because you almost didn’t speak to him for the entire evening. Which was true, but you also told Jace that back then, you’d simply been terrified, anxious. Shy and nervous and about to crack under the pressure your parents had put on you, telling you that it was imperative that you left a perfect impression on the royal family. 

You’d slipped away from the festivities the first chance you got, after an incredibly awkward dance with Jacaerys. You were so caught up in your own thoughts that you didn’t even notice the young prince following you, until he made his presence known. 

„I’m sorry, I know I’m a terrible dancer-“

A loud shriek escaped you and you turned around to face him. There he was, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, looking at you uncertainly and with a tender shyness on his expression. 

„I’m sorry,  I didn’t mean to frighten you - I - I only wanted to make sure that you were alright …“ 

You nodded slowly, tucking a stray strand of hair that had escaped your hairdo behind your ear. 

This conversation wasn’t what you’d been expecting, not at all. You certainly hadn’t counted on him even noticing that something was wrong, yet alone following you to make sure that you were alright. Earlier that day and night, conversation between you two had been stiff and awkward, with neither of you quite knowing what to say to each other, and always someone from either of your families lurking around in the background. 

But this was different and this was the moment you slowly started to realize that maybe Jacaerys Velaroyn wasn’t all that bad. 

So, you found yourself taking a tentative step towards him. „I - I am now, I - thank you, Your Grace.“ 

„Jacaerys - it’s Jace, if you like“, he corrected you gently, also taking a tentative step towards you, before holding out his hand. „Friends?“ 

You nodded, feeling a small smile tug at the corners of your lips. „Friends.“ 

You and Jacaerys hadn’t seen much of each other after your name day celebrations, but only a few days later, you received the first raven he ever sent you. 

Since then, you two had been writing to each other constantly, sometimes sending three or even more ravens during a fortnight. And though you only continued to see him for very few occasions - his or your nameday celebrations, the royal wedding of Prince Aegon and his sister Helaena, the Queen Rhaenyra’s coronation -, you found yourself looking forward to these occasions more and more. He was your best friend, and with the years passing, the space he occupied in your heart only grew more and more. 

And so, when a few weeks after your eighteenth nameday, your wedding was finally held, it was entirely different than what you’d been imagining it to be as a little child. 

You weren’t afraid or terrified, not in the slightest. No, you were excited and happy, and if Jace is to be believed, you were glowing with joy the whole day through. 

„Princess?“, Jacaery’s voice, now sounding concerned, draws you out of your thoughts yet again, and so you turn around, until you’re facing him. 

You squeeze his hand, reaching up with your other hand to touch his cheek, unable to fight the warm smile tugging at the corner of your lips. 

Jacaerys returns your smile and you feel your heart skip a beat. When Jace smiles, really smiles, it’s as if his whole face is lightning up. There’s a gentle glow in his warm brown eyes, calming and reassuring.

It’s this gentle glow, this steady and strong flame in him that you fell in love with, and continue to fall in love with every day. 

„What’re you thinking about, love?“, Jace asks you, his hand squeezing yours, his other hand leaving your waist and reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

You smile, leaning into his touch. You don’t answer his question, not with words, at least. Instead, you just lean forward, gently pressing your lips to his, hoping to convey all the emotions you’re currently feeling through your kiss. 

It seems to be working, because when you break apart a moment later, there’s a soft smile on Jacaerys’ lips and that warm glow in his eyes.

„I love you“, you say, before reaching for him again, connecting your lips again. He sighs, shifting, until his arm is at your waist again. Your hands find their way to his neck, one hand tugging at the curls at his nape. 

For a while, the kiss stays tender and slow and loving. But then you shift, trying to find a position that’s a bit more comfortable for you, completely forgetting that your legs are still entangled with Jacaerys’. You end up drawing him even closer to you, until there’s no space left between you two, his body covering your own. 

His grip on your waist tightens and he uses his other hand to support himself, drawing himself up a bit as to not crush you completely under his weight. This new position allows Jace to bunch up the fabric of your nightgown, slipping his fingers under the thin fabric, until his fingertips are stroking over the bare skin of your waist. 

You sigh contentedly, locking your legs around his waist - and pause, wincing. What before was only a slight feeling of discomfort has now turned into an intense, unpleasant burning between your legs. You feel incredibly sore and you can only imagine how hard it will be today, walking around with this unpleasant soreness between your legs, trying not to wince at every step. 

„Princess?“, Jace who’s noticed that something’s wrong, asks you, concern lacing his voice. His warm brown eyes find yours and in them you see his worry and concern for you. 

You shake your head, trying to smile. „It’s nothing“, you say, trying to wave away his concern. 

„No“, Jace says, shaking his head. His hand leaves your waist, gently cradling your cheek instead. „No, I know it’s not nothing, love.“ 

You sigh. „Well, it’s nothing important.“ 

„Princes“, Jace says, his gaze still holding yours, „please - you can tell me.“ 

You close your eyes briefly, trying to fight of the blush that’s threatening to creep onto your cheeks. Really, all things considered, it’s so stupid to be embarrassed to admit to something like this, when you’ve already shared so much with your husband. 

You sigh, opening your eyes again, finding Jace still looking at you with worry in his expression. „It’s nothing, really, I - I’m just - I’m just a bit sore after last night …“, you say, feeling your cheeks blush a furious red. Great, now you probably look like an overly ripe tomato. 

As if that weren’t already bad enough, Jacaerys’ puzzled expression really has you wishing to die from embarrassment, if only for a short moment. 

„Oh - oh …“, Jacaerys says, a bit sheepishly, his hand leaving your waist, drawing himself up, but you stop him by reaching out a hand and touching his forearm. 

„Jace, it’s fine, really-“

„I didn’t - I didn’t mean to hurt you“, he says, genuine concern in his voice. 

You squeeze his shoulder. „Jace, you didn’t hurt me.“ 

„But-“

„Jace, this happens. It’s normal, really.“ 

„Wait, do you mean - is it always like this for you?“ 

You shake your head. „Not always … last night was - intense …“ 

You don’t even know how that’s possible, but your cheeks seem to be getting even hotter. But when you look up at Jacaerys, you see his cheeks growing rather pink as well, and somehow, that brings a small smile to your lips. 

„I didn’t mean to - I’m sorry, I - is there anything I can do to make it better for you?“, Jace asks you, fingertips softly stroking the skin of your cheek. 

„I-“, you start to say, at the same moment that Jace says: „I have an idea.“ 

You laugh quietly and you’re relieved when you see a shy smile on his lips as well. 

„I - will you let me - do you trust me?“, Jace asks you and you smile. 

„Always.“ 

Jace nods, returning your smile. „Good. Lie back, try to relax. And do tell me if something I do is hurting you at all, please?“ 

You nod, lying back down on the sheets. Jace watches you with a small smile on his face. Then, he lifts himself off of you, and you almost protest when you don’t feel the reassuring weight of his body anymore, but as if he’s sensed the direction of your thoughts, his lips find yours again in a featherlight, tender kiss. 

The kiss is soft and sweet, and for a moment, you find yourself thinking that it’s almost a bit too innocent and gentle, but then Jace slowly deepens the kiss and one of his hands moves to your collarbone, the touch of his fingertips featherlight on your skin. 

As the kiss turns deeper and more sensual, his tongue coaxing your mouth open, his fingertips start exploring your skin, slowly, but surely moving downwards. 

Your collarbone. 

Your sternum. His fingertips stay there for a moment, drawing circles on your skin and you find your heart beating faster in anticipation. Then, as Jace breaks the kiss, only to attach his lips to the spot on your neck that he know always drives you nearly insane, his fingertips finally move lower to the valley between your breasts. 

Your breath hitches and you swear that you can feel Jacaerys smirking. He can be such a tease-

Then, the fabric of your nightgown is shoved aside rather unceremoniously. You shudder, because at the same moment that Jace’s fingertips move to your breasts, cupping the tender skin, his lips start suckling at the spot on your neck and then you can feel his teeth lightly graze over your skin and you’re sure that he’s going to leave a mark, a purple love bite that will be hard to cover up and conceal - joining two other ones that are slowly starting to fade - but you find that you don’t care, not at all. 

All that you can think about is that you want, no need, more. More of Jacaerys. More of his hands and lips on your skin, more of that blissful tension. 

„Jace, please“, you say, your voice breathless. His lips leave your neck then and he looks up at you, desire clear and tangible in his gaze. 

A look passes between you and Jacaerys seems to understand exactly what you need without you having to say a single word. His hands leave your waist and breasts briefly, to take off your nightgown. 

Now, you’re completely bare before him, while he’s still in one of the soft linen shift he always wears in bed. 

„Gods, you’re so beautiful“, he whispers, awe and adoration in his voice. 

Then, he leans in towards you again and you think that he’s going to kiss you, but instead, his head moves between your breasts and he takes one of your nipples in his mouth, while his left hand starts playing with the nipple of your other breast. 

You moan, squirming. 

At that, Jace looks up at you, mouth still attached to your breast and you can’t help but let out another loud moan. You’re so dizzy and driven by desire that you only notice Jace’s other hand start to move lower, when you feel his fingertips lightly brushing over your core. 

„Jace, oh gods-“ Your voice is breathy and full of want, and once again Jace gives you exactly what you need, his fingertips moving lightly over your core, his other hand playing with your breasts, as his lips continue to move lower and lower and lower. 

He leaves soft, featherlight kisses on your breasts, your stomach, the inner sides of your thighs. Your breath hitches and you feel your heart beat faster and faster as Jace peppers more and more kisses, moving closer and closer to where you really need to feel him. 

There’s a burning ache beside you, a fire and his touches are stoking its flames. Feeling his fingertips move lightly over your core isn’t enough, you need more, you need to really, truly feel him. 

Your hands move on their own accord, coming to settle in his dark curls, softly tugging at his hair to get his attention. 

Jace looks up at you then, his dark brown eyes slightly glassy. His lips are red and swollen and his cheeks are red, but he still looks absolutely angelic. Heavenly. 

„Jace, please“, you breathe, you voice shaky and barely more than a whisper. 

You think you see him smirk at your words, but then you can’t think straight anymore, because he lowers his head again and then his lips are right there where you so desperately crave them. His hand has moved and he’s now pressing his thumb against your bundle of nerves, steadily applying pressure while leaves soft, featherlight kisses on your core. 

He’s teasing you again, something he really, really likes to do. And though normally you enjoy him teasing you quite a bit, right now, you’re desperate. And so, you tug at his curls just a bit more stronger, trying to convey your desperate needs to him that way. 

At first, you think that he’s just going to continue teasing you, but then, suddenly, you feel his tongue licking over your slit, before delving between your folds. 

Your unconsciously tighten your grip on his hair, squirming, panting. 

It just feels so good, too good. Jace’s tongue continuing to delve between your folds, nearing that sweet spot that always has your vision go hazy, his thumb continuing to press against your bundle of nerves, his other hand still between your breasts, alternating between rolling your nipples between his fingers and roaming over your tender skin. 

You’re panting now, quivering and moaning, tugging at Jace’s dark curls with abandon. Dimly, you worry about tugging too hard, maybe even hurting him, but the quiet, satisfied noises that leave him tell you a different story. And so, you don’t loosen your grip, steadying yourself with your hands in his hair. 

Then his tongue reaches that sweet spot inside you that has your vision go hazy and you moan loudly. 

Two of his fingers enter you as well then, and he keeps finding that sweet spot repeatedly with his tongue, all the while circling his fingers and keeping pressure on your bundle of nerves with his tongue. 

You’re getting closer, you can feel it. The fire in your is building and building and building. One of your hands leaves his hair, blindly reaching for Jace’s free hands. He meets you halfway, lacing your fingers together and squeezing your hand. Steadying you. 

„Jace, oh gods, I-“, you moan, panting and quivering as Jace’s tongue and fingers continue to move in and out of you. His pace gets faster, the pressure a bit more intense and then, fire consumes you. 

You moan his name loudly, your back arching off the bed. 

An intense, dizzying wave of pleasure crashes over you, threatening to drown you. 

Jacaerys guides you along through it all, taking everything you give him - the desperate tug on his curls, the harsh squeeze of his hand, your legs pressing closer. 

He takes it, takes everything. Your pleasure is his, and his is yours. 

You burn, together. 

You squeeze your eyes shot, drowning in this intense pleasure, breath heavy and panting. 

After a few moments, your breathing has returned to normal, and you blindly reach for Jacaerys, drawing him up towards you. Your hands wind around his neck, and you draw him in for a kiss. It’s messy, a bit of your slick still connected to his lips and you can still taste yourself on his lips, but you don’t care. 

You try to convey everything you feel through your kiss, but it’s not enough and so you break away, still panting heavily. „I love you - gods, I love you so much.“

There’s that glow in Jace’s eyes again and you move one of your hands to cup his cheek. „I love you, Jacaerys Velaryon“, you say, before connecting your lips to his again. 

This kiss is slow and tender, and not rushed at all, instead full of emotion. 

When he breaks away, Jace rests his forehead against yours, his warm breath ghosting over your skin. „I love you, Princess.“ 

You smile, kissing him once again, before snuggling up next to him, resting your head on the crook of his shoulder. He reaches out one arm, splaying it over your stomach, drawing you closer. 

It only occurs to you then, lying so close to him. You look up at him. „What about you, Jace?“ 

He frowns slightly. „What?“ 

You feel yourself blushing. „Do you want me to-“

„No“, he quickly rushes to interrupt you. When he notices your confused expression, one of his hands finds yours, squeezing it. „It’s not that I don’t want to - I do, really, just … I wanted to make you feel good. And besides … I - I … I uh … I already finished …“ The last part is said so quietly that you almost don’t understand it. But then you notice his cheeks growing rather pink and you smile fondly, squeezing his hand. 

You leave a soft kiss on his shoulder, before sitting up, supporting your weight on your elbow. With your free hand, you reach for his face, tucking a stray curl back behind his ear, before leaning in to kiss him again. 

„I love you, Jace.“ 

He smiles, resting his forehead against yours. 

„I love you, Princess.“ 

Thank you so much for reading! <3 my requests for Jace are currently open 🤭

[obbystars]

It’s You!

Synopsis: Despite everything, it’s still you.

Notes: Sebastian Solace x GN!Reader / Established relationship, can be interpreted as either married or not / Sebastian and Reader live together / Connected to my previous fic, Drown in the Deep, but this can be read as a standalone / Cigarettes cause it’s canon Sebastian smokes, up to you if reader also smokes / Fluff + Comfort / Reader has read Sebastian’s document, but nothing too specific is mentioned from it

(UNDERTALE REFERENCE RAHHH anyway another fic where I’m playing/experimenting with Sebastian’s character. I’m trying to find something that clicks, y’know? You’ll probably expect me to be writing him for a bit until my fixation decides to latch onto something else.)

Credit: Dividers by @cafekitsune

The moment you felt the empty space beside you, you felt wide awake. You’re not sure how long he’s been gone for, but that part doesn’t really matter. You threw off the blanket and got up, almost immediately feeling a shiver run down your spine. It’s cold.

You began to search through the house, quietly opening doors and listening if you could hear movement. Not in the bathroom, not in the living room, not in the dining room or the kitchen… You grabbed a snack while in there just in case. You checked everywhere inside the house. He’s definitely outside then, probably smoking. You grabbed a sweater and made your way to the back door.

Hearing the door open, Sebastian turns to you with a cigarette still in his hand.

“Oh, hey,”

You tilted your head with a smile, “Hey. You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he nods, turning away as he said that, “I’m fine, just can’t sleep,”

You hum as you walked to him and gently lay your head on his shoulder. He didn’t react at first, but you feel him lean onto you as well. He eventually relaxes.

“Let me guess. Nightmare?”

“You could say that,”

“You wanna tell me about it?”

He shrugged, “Not really,”

Sebastian wasn’t one to talk about certain things much like this, so you didn’t question it any further. You pulled out the snack you grabbed earlier and held it up to him.

“Care for a trade?” You smirked, shaking the bag.

He smiles a little as you held out your other hand for his cigarette. Once you feel him place it in your hand, you let him have the snack. It was mostly quiet once he started eating. Silent moments like this were nice. It makes you feel sleepy sometimes and you could very much fall asleep right here on his shoulder. Unfortunately, the wind picked up and it started to get a bit cold. Both of you shivered.

You gently patted his arm, “You ready to go back inside?”

There was a brief silence between the two of you before he nods, “Yeah,”

Sebastian leans off of you as you do the same. Just as you turned around to head inside, he tugs on the sweater.

“Wanna return my sweater?”

“You’ll get it back in the morning, it’s mine now,” you smile.

He rolled his eyes as he followed you inside. You kept the swearer on when you two got to bed. You crawled in on your side and held out your arms to Sebastian as he got in. He laid his head over yours while you got yourself comfortable on top of him.

“Hey Seb, you know what we should do?”

Sebastian doesn’t take his eyes off the ceiling, “What?”

“We should go to an aquarium some time,”

“Where’s this coming from?”

“Fish are cool. Plus, I figured it’d be a fun and cool little date, y’know?”

He lets out a laugh, “I’m getting the feeling that’s not all,”

You rolled your eyes with a scoff. He wasn’t wrong about that, so you continued.

“Yeah, cause you didn’t want to come with me back in college because of your business major. The same one you switched out of,”

“Okay, now that’s just unfair!” Sebastian abruptly sits up, pushing you off of him, “It’s not my fault the damn class was boring!”

He pinches your cheek and pulls on it, causing you to wince, “You didn’t even end up going anyway because of your own classes!” He adds.

“Oww! Hey!”

He lets go of you and lays back down, facing you. He closed his eyes for a moment before sighing, “Sooo… Where’s this aquarium?”

You smiled and reached for your phone to check the location. Hopefully that window to go is somewhere in your lives as there’s time and money to worry about. It was a bit expensive and a little far. One day, and maybe if there’s another opportunity, you could invite his brother and sister to come along. You don’t see them much anyway so that could be a great opportunity.

Once you were done talking about it, you put your phone back where it was. You were about to close your eyes, but Sebastian still has something to say.

“It’s funny that you brought up the aquarium, actually. My dream had to do with the ocean,”

You looked at him, “Really?”

“Yeah, it was cold, dark… I don’t remember it hurting. I don’t think I was drowning either,”

“Woahh… That’s kinda cool,” you reached your hand over and started playing with his hair, “Kinda makes me want to go diving now,”

“What’s with you and your sudden interest in the ocean?”

“When you think about it, there’s a bunch of stuff down there we haven’t discovered yet because we don’t have what it takes to go further down. It’d be so cool to see and learn about it. Of course, I’d be happy to see a sea turtle and maybe swim with one,”

“Kinda sounds like you love fish more than me,” he scoffs.

“Not true!” You then paused for a moment, totally not thinking about it, “But if you were a fish, I’d still love you,”

“How reassuring,” the sarcasm in his voice is clear.

You pouted, “Shush. It’s because I’ll know it’s you. Now let me braid your hair until I’m too sleepy,”

He lets out a sigh as he moves closer, “Fine,”

Sebastian ended up falling asleep rather quickly as you worked, and you didn’t take too long to fall asleep afterwards.

Your eyes snapped open with a gasp. You feel cold. You’re not sure what it was, but you remember seeing a dark creature with multiple white eyes staring at you through a locker. It was ramming into the door, trying to get you out. It had human teeth and its face looked like it was melting. That was the last thing you remember as the locker doors finally gave out and you couldn’t hold it shut anymore.

Your heart was pounding against your chest. You feel something move underneath you and quickly remember where you were and who you were with. You pushed yourself to sit up and looked at Sebastian who was still asleep. His tail had coiled around you, almost acting like a bed if it weren’t for the scales. You’re reminded of the current situation you’re stuck in and it doesn’t help to calm your heart. You’re still stuck in this abandoned facility with no way out unless you leave his hideout to retrieve the crystal like Urbanshade requested.

You sighed, lying back down and facing him this time. Your hand reached over to move some of his hair away from his face so that his third eye is visible to you. Perhaps playing with his hair to get you to fall asleep was more of a habit now. You nudged yourself a bit closer to him and started to make a small braid.

Sebastian had quickly woken up due to feeling something gently tugging on his hair, but seeing you so focused, he stayed quiet and watched you. Part of him wanted to know just how long it’ll take for you to notice him watching you. You were being careful as you weren’t aware he wasn’t already awake.

He’s become such a light sleeper ever since his stay here. The smallest noise and movement could wake him up, but it was like a lifesaver as the dangers persisted. It didn’t help that Urbanshade is going to kill him without hesitation the moment they see him.

Your hands are shaking and you’re struggling more than usual. It might be because you’re still shaken up by your nightmare of getting killed mixed with the problem you’re currently in, but it did feel a little too real. It felt like you used all of your strength to hold the locker closed. You can’t exactly feel your legs either, like that was the first thing that monster had consumed. The image of it was still in your head. A million eyes staring at you through the locker from inside its mouth, its face seemingly melting away and the scream it let out once it grabbed you.

Your hands stopped, the shaking becoming more evident. A blue scaled hand takes hold of your small hands. You blinked, snapping yourself out of your thoughts and looked at Sebastian.

“O-Oh, uh…” your voice trembled, “How long were you awake?”

“Long enough,” he says, “You’re shaking. What’s wrong?”

You looked down and tried to pull your hands out of his, but he only held tighter, “Just a nightmare…”

“Well, whatever it was certainly frightened you to this extent. What was it about?”

“I was still here, somewhere in this facility. The lights flickered and I heard a distant voice getting louder, and then it suddenly screamed as it saw me entering a locker,” he lets go of your hands at this point, “It kept ramming into it, trying to open it or knock me out of it. When it finally managed to open it, its face looked so… disturbing. There were so many eyes in its mouth, a-and…”

You’re not sure how to describe it, or maybe the memory of the nightmare is fading at this very moment. But you still feel it.

He props himself up on one of his hands, using his extra limb to pull you closer, “Ohhh, you had a dream about that thing? Yeahh, dying to that isn’t really pleasant. Won’t get into the details, you probably get the idea of it anyway considering what you’ve seen,”

You say nothing in response to that. Is that what the last person you were with felt? You can’t imagine just how painful it would’ve been had it spotted you inside the other room. All that was left was the beat up locker and a pool of blood. You don’t remember hearing them scream either, but perhaps it was drowned out by the sound of the monster. You didn’t want to think about it anymore.

Sebastian lays back down so you can continue with what you were doing, but instead, he feels your hands come back to his and gently holds it. He watches you for a bit, trying to figure out what you’re trying to do now. You traced your fingers against the scales, almost fascinated by it. You were being oh so gentle with him.

“Y’know, any sane person would be cautious whenever they see a tall fish with the features of an angler fish and razor sharp teeth,” he suddenly comments, “But you? Didn’t anyone ever tell you curiosity kills the cat?”

“It’s because I know it’s you, Sebastian,” you held his hand tighter, “Just because you look like this now doesn’t change the way I feel about you. Does it make me upset knowing why now? Of course I’m upset…and angry, too. Had it been me instead, I think I would’ve done the same after everything they did. You must’ve been in so much pain too,”

He doesn’t respond to that and only stares at you. You didn’t seem to mind as you eventually move on to compare your hand sizes, and his is significantly larger. When he was still just a human, your hand sizes weren’t all that different. Now, he can hold both of your hands in one of his. He could crush your head if he so wanted to.

You sighed, continuing, “The day they gave you the death penalty, I… I think I gave up. I knew I was going to lose you so maybe in a sense, I died too. There were so many days and nights where I struggled to even get up and struggled to even go back to sleep. Every single morning was just a painful reminder for me that I wouldn’t be seeing you again,”

You gave up. A part of you had already died.

“I guess this “job” was just another way of me not having to wake up anymore. It’s silly, I know… But isn’t it kind of funny? I came here because I thought this could be my chance to see you again in death, and here you are. You’re still alive, and that’s all I cared about,” you smiled, “Maybe a little different, but… Still alive, and still you,”

His eyes widened slightly. That stupid line again. Sebastian looks away with a hiss and you can feel his tail shift beneath you.

“Go back to sleep, [name],” he sighs, “You’re gonna need the rest,”

By the way, I am aware Sebastian isn’t THAT big when you take away the tail part, but look…

Big hand… Also there was this post that I found while making this so

Also not really proud of this one but oh well

[honeytama]

Make Your Move - Chapter 6

Noah Sebastian x Reader x Matt Dierkes

A/N: She’s back! A little thing; a minimal scene in this chapter may seem similar to a sound deck scene in Unveiled Hearts by @thefallennightmare. I noticed it after I read her story (which I love), but I chose not to rewrite my scene. No copying here, just great minds thinking alike <3

Fic Summary: Find in Fic Masterlist

Content and Warnings for Ch. 6: Lots of fluff and more dating! AHH, some suggestive content, some smut 18+, hands stuff (hand job/fingering etc), almost caught, semi-public

Word Count: 8k

Tag List:

@xxkittenkissesxx @exitwoundsx @jilliemiw86 @abiomens @lma1986

@flowery-mess @doomhands-jr @rain-down-on-me @justdamnpeachy @thatchickwiththecamera @narcissisticbehavior81

@xcllnt @somebodyels3

After Noah and you had your late-night tryst in the showers of the venue, the walk back to the bus felt desolate. You walked alone through the hallways and into the dark, humid night as you exited the venue into its back alleyway.

The grin on your face wanted to stay there; you wanted to be elated that both of the men that you were attracted to wanted you. However, your face falls when you realize that Matt was right: you’re not being fully truthful to him, or Noah.

You feel it’s hard to swallow when you think back to just ten minutes ago. Noah asked what you wanted to speak to him about and you dodged the question. Wanting to believe that your brain was foggy from the sight of Noah’s body, and that kiss, was half of your reasoning for lying, but the other half is that you really couldn’t bear telling Noah the truth.

Outside of the bus, you pace the side of it while listing the options available to you: don’t tell the two men that you kissed both of them the same night and risk their friendship and your relationship with them once they find out, or do tell them and risk it all anyway.

Everything about the situation made you feel gross and at a loss. If only you told Noah about Matt’s confession, then maybe you wouldn’t feel like you’re on track to manipulating them both in the process.

“Why?” You yell out into the night, holding your head in your hands.

You calm your senses and walk to hop onto the bus to head to Nashville, Tennessee. While in bed, you finally decide you should come clean to both of them as soon as possible to save you the heartache. In contrast to your decision, you thought, why not indulge yourself in the fantasy you had never thought possible?

—

A constant buzzing tone from your phone wakes you in the morning; you turn over in your bunk to grab it while noticing the bus isn’t moving. You must be outside of the Nashville venue already.

Without checking the caller ID, you hold the phone close to your ear and mumble, “Hello?”

“Good morning, loser, get out of bed,” Matt's voice is loud in your ear. You pull your phone away from your head and wipe the sleep from your eyes before responding.

“You’re such a bully, let me sleep,” you whine and check the time. Ten AM. It’s a bit later than when you would usually wake up. “Where are you?”

“I’m finishing a run with Noah. I’m on my way back to the venue, but he decided to go the extra mile,” he answers.

“Oh,” you’re lucky the fact that you just woke up can hide the lack of enthusiasm in your voice. You hope with everything in you that they didn't share the things they did with you the night before. They could have been laughing at you. They could’ve been plotting to “dump” you. They could be planning to fire you from the tour. Clenching your eyes closed to push back these intrusive thoughts you finally respond, “Sounds fun.”

“Yeah, it was,” he says, unfazed by your tone. “Anyway, I called because I was wondering if you had plans at, let’s say, noon?”

“Yes, I plan to rot in bed with my phone six inches from my face until they need us to work later,” you explain, matter-of-factly.

“So you’re saying you wouldn't want to go out on a date with me?”

This shocks you awake and you sit up on your bunk. The crown of your head bumps the top of the enclosed space, “Ouch, fuck!”

Matt laughs over the phone, but questions, “You good?”

“Yeah, I just banged my head on the top of my bunk.” You rub the throbbing spot on your head as you return to reality, “You’re asking me out?”

“Yup,” he pops the “P” in the word. Even though he isn’t there with you, you can just see the smug look on his face. “There’s a hot chicken place I’ve been wanting to try since we’re in Nashville and I thought I should finally take you out. You know, just you and me, like we said.”

You never thought that this day would come, but you remember your decision to be open and honest with the two boys. This would be the first time you addressed the elephant in the room, “Does it still bother you that I went out with Noah a few days ago?”

He hums softly. “I’m getting over it. I did give you two permission,” he says. “But, I figured, since I told you how I felt last night… and our kiss,” he pauses again, “you would want to start hanging out with me, too. Just not as friends.”

You bite your lip and sway in your bunk. “You want to date me,” you sing in his ear, teasingly.

“Don’t make me take it back, Y/N,” he grumbles.

“Okay, okay! Yes, I’ll go out with you,” you say quickly. “I’ll be ready at 11:45! Is it close by?”

“Sure is, we can walk there together. Wear something cute,” you can hear the smirk in his voice again.

“I will,” you sing. “Matt?”

“Hm?”

“Are you going to let me hold your hand?” You ask, hopefully.

“Maybe, if you’re good,” he laughs before hanging up the phone.

—

You’re dressed up in your favorite casual date outfit. It’s only a few minutes until you need to meet Matt outside the bus.

Adjusting your hair and accessories, you look into the bus bathroom mirror. The jitters that have shaken your body since the moment he asked out over the phone have not stopped, and really, it’s getting worse. You have to keep your jaw clenched to keep your teeth from chattering. The only thing that can help you is seeing him.

You huff and head down the hallway to the front room. Jolly and Folio sit on the couch on their phones, relaxing.

“Hey, beautiful,” Jolly says. “Where are you going?”

Folio looks up from his phone too, “Yeah? Damn, you look good, I like that outfit.”

Your cheeks flush at their compliments, but you realize you don’t feel comfortable with them knowing that you have been on a date with Noah and are now going on one with his best friend. “I’m going for lunch with Matt,” you tell them a half-truth. Lying seems to be in your repertoire these days.

“Oh, cool. Where are y’all going?” They say in unison.

“It’s a hot chicken restaurant he knows about,” you tell the truth.

“Shit, that sounds good. Could we come with y’all?” Folio asks, excitedly.

Folio, please. “I would love that, but we're going to do some catching up as friends,” you give him a sorry smile and offer to take him there another day while you’re still in town.

“It’s all good,” he shrugs. ‘Y’all have fun.”

You wave them goodbye, “See you later for the show boys.”

“Bye, Y/N!” They sing as you exit the bus onto the concrete of the venue alley.

Matt leans on the brick wall of the venue looking at his sneakers.

“Hey, handsome,” you compliment him. His outfit is different than usual. It’s not that different, however, you could tell he had his idea of a casual date outfit, too. Your chest flutters at the thought of him getting ready for you.

Matt looks up at you at the sound of your voice. A smile slowly creeps on his lips and builds to a toothy, shit-eating grin.

“I see you wore a clean, oversized tee today,” you tease him while looking him up and down. “And, camo cargo pants? That’s so hot.”

“Shut up,” he rolls his eyes. “I think that I look best without clothes, but I dont think Hattie B’s would allow that,” he jokes.

You tend to agree with that statement. He looks like a God when he is down to a pair of fitted boxer briefs. Besides the other features of his physique, below the belt, you’ve only ever taken a good look at his ass. You know that your life would be over if Matt were ever to catch you ogling his bulge, so even after countless sleepovers and pool days, you have no clue what he might be packing.

“Is that the restaurant we’re going to?” You ask as he comes to your side to start your walk.

“Mhm,” he hums. “By the way, you look,” you catch him sneaking a glance over to you, “amazing.”

“Thanks, babe,” you nudge his shoulder.

A ghost of a smile makes his lip curl upwards. He doesn't want you to notice, but you do. “I’m already regretting sharing my feelings with you,” he grunts before taking his hand in yours. His thumb rubs over the top of it softly and you smile to yourself as you walk down the city sidewalk, side by side.

—

“Can you order for me, Matt? I need to use the restroom,” you ask him.

“Yeah, I know what you like,” Matt agrees while staring up at the menu overhead at the ordering counter.

That was something that you loved about him and something you wouldn't get from Noah, not at this point. Matt remembers everything. The second you tell him you love something, your goals, even something you're just remotely interested in it’s like he has a notes app page open about it. Matt tends to order your food for you when you go out back at home, but if you order he’ll speak up for you if you’re too shy to ask for something specific.

“Could I have three chorizo breakfast tacos, please?” You would ask at your two’s favorite taco shop on Sunday mornings. Matt would give you a stare and a subtle head tilt to mention your customization, but when you don't.

“With salsa on the side. Not on top, please. She doesn't like it,” he would say for you before handing over his card.

You haven't realized it until now, looking into the bathroom mirror, but you have been comparing the two men you've been involved with and you don't like it. It’s not like you should have the privilege of comparing either of them anyway. Your choice to have one, for peace, is completely null. You could only hope to enjoy your time with the two of them until everything goes to hell.

Enough, you say to yourself roughly. Enjoy yourself. Enjoy your date. You wash your hands with warm water; the temperature change and the sweet scent from the soap soothes your senses.

You walk back out into the restaurant lobby and spot Matt sitting alone at a booth. His leg bounces up and down as he looks out the building window.

Walking up to sit across from him, he jokes, “You didn’t fall in did you?”

You giggle and get settled in your seat, “No, I was just nervous, I guess. I was taking a second to myself.”

“How do you feel now?” Matt reaches across the table from you and holds his hand in yours.

“Better,” you smile. He continues tracing circles with the pad of his thumb on your hand just like he did on your way here. Just on the soft skin of your palm, this time. “So, what did you order me?”

“I got you the mild spicy sandwich with fries. I think I got us a side of mac and cheese to share,” Matt purses his lips. “I got myself the hot sandwich with fries. You can try mine, but I know you’re not too into spicy stuff,” he shrugs.

You both speak at the same time.

“Thank you–” “Unless, it’s books–

“Matt,” you squeeze his hand in yours while making “What the fuck?” eyes to him. Ducking your head, you look around the restaurant to make sure no one overheard him. “Don't talk about my book.”

“You read it in public,” he says matter of factly. “I can talk about something that you do in public.”

“Reading on the bus isn't in public,” you defend. Heat travels up your neck to your cheeks like it usually did when Matt and you got on to the topic of sex. It happens often, and you hate that you don't mind it.

He shrugs and starts to laugh at himself. “I’ve Googled the title, by the way, I know what you've been reading about, Y/N.”

You decide to play his game. After over a year of dealing with him, you have found that the best way to combat his taunting is to do it right back. “Oh, really,” you tilt your head at him. “What is it about then? Describe it to me.”

Matt lets go of your hand and adjusts his hat. This is his common tell that he would rather change the subject, but in proper Matt fashion, he wants to play with you. “If I remember correctly,” he pauses while looking up at the ceiling, “It’s about a woman who moves into the house next door to this hot guy. Hot guy is a boudoir photographer? She does his marketing in exchange for him to teach her how to fuck. I stole your copy to check for myself and I remember the guy laying her out on top of a counter—”

“Uhm, I have the mild and hot sandwiches with a side of mac and cheese?” The woman delivering your food squeaks out.

“That’s us, thank you,” Matt coughs out.

“Thank you,” you say as they start to dart away from your table.

You and him stare into each other’s eyes with blank faces waiting for the employee to walk far enough away before you can react.

Once they have walked through the swinging door to the kitchen Matt is in hysterics laughing across from you. His keeling over the side of the table just so you can see the pleasure on his face a bit closer.

“Why did you just explain my sex book in front of the employee?” You cover your face with your hands.

“You asked me to! You did this to yourself,” he continues to chuckle while shoving a fry into his mouth.

“Also, I haven't got to the part you’re talking about, so thanks for the spoiler,” you huff before also taking a fry and shoving it in your mouth. “Shit, this is good,” you moan and relax your shoulders.

“Is that how you moan when—”

“Matt, I’m on my knees—,” you glare at him before he can interrupt you. “I’m begging you, could we please talk about something else?”

“Sure,” he calms and starts eating. “I wanted to thank you for saying “yes” to coming out with me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was nervous that you might just want to see how things go with Noah,” he admits.

“Matt, I have had the biggest crush on you since, like, a month into knowing you? There’s no way I would pass up the opportunity for a date. I just—”

“What’s wrong?”

Here we go. “I just don't want everyone to know that I’ve been on a date with Noah and you. I feel sleazy.”

“It’s going out. It’s innocent,” he shrugs and bites into his sandwich. Talking with his mouth full, “You let me know if anyone tries giving you shit for it. I’ll beat their ass.” He swallows his bite. “If it will make you feel better, I don’t mind you saying that we’re doing stuff as friends. I’ll do the same. It’s pretty normal for us to be alone since people know we've known each other for a long time.”

Thank God. “I’m glad you feel that way,” you start. “Something happened with Noah. I need to—,”

“Tell me later?” He interrupts and then shakes his head, “Sorry, I don’t want to talk about him on our date. I just want to hear about you.”

“Okay,” you nod. Fuck, don’t take the out. You need to tell him, you think. “Yeah, sorry.”

“It’s ok,” he smiles. “Here, try this sauce. Shit’s good.”

You and Matt spend the next hour at the restaurant eating and chatting away. He feeds you fries and lets you try his sandwich. Which ultimately, as he predicted, would make you chug your drink down to get another refill.

He asks you to tell him about your aspirations again as your legs are intertwined with his underneath the table. He always listens to you so intently with a furrowed brow. It’s intimidating as all you want to do is impress him. However, Matt has never made you apologize for being yourself: for liking what you like, or for dreaming big dreams.

He reminds you of his goals in life and your chest has that familiar tingle by the way his face glows when he talks about them. He shows you his favorite pictures of his dogs that you have seen time and again. He gives you countless, soft-spoken affirmations and praise about how you look, the jokes you tell him, and your work ethic. He tells you how great you’ve been doing at your job. He’s proud of you and date Matt, romantic Matt… isn’t afraid to show it.

You feel loved. He’s in love with you.

—

Matt invited you to watch the show from the sound deck again tonight.

You agreed, excitedly, the butterflies in your stomach have yet to die down after your first date with him this afternoon. The smile on his face wouldn’t dissipate either.

The crew teased about how sweet he treated them when you two came in to check up on them after returning from getting lunch.

“What’s got you so excited, Dierkes?” Kooter, Bad Omen’s drum tech, teased from behind Matt while massaging his shoulders.

“Fuck off, go help Folio,” Matt said, brushing Kooter off. His tone showed itself to be negative, however, you love the way his lips turned up at the ends as he turned back to face you. His eyes smile too as they meet yours as if to say, “You’re what I’m excited about, Y/N.”

The crew set everything up as organized and as detailed as it would be if you two were there to manage the process, and the gig began as usual.

Later in the night, you stand at Matt’s side in the sound deck to prepare for Bad Omens to begin their set of the night. It would be two whole days since you would return to work after spending some time in Nashville before moving on to the next tour stop. Looking around the room, you take it all in, to save the excitement and fulfillment that your job brings to you every night. Fans line and lean over the railings of the balcony seats at both sides of the room; chatting and patiently waiting for the band’s introduction to the stage.

A group of women, around your age, stand in front of the sound deck barrier. They're laughing and taking pictures and you hear one of them dare another to ask Matt for a photo, too. He doesn't seem to notice, but the women catch your curious stare, they nod and motion for you to tap on his shoulder. You take a step closer to him, “Matt, do you want to take a picture?” You ask while lightly tugging on the sleeve of his shirt to get his attention.

He turns to you, immediately. “Yeah,” He smiles and begins to pull his phone from his jogger’s pocket.

“Oh, sorry, not with me,” you giggle, patting his arm. “Them,” you nod your head the ladies waiting hopefully and excitedly across from you two.

“Oh, sure,” he smile falls a tad, but returns to assure you. “I’ll be right back, okay? Then there’s something I want to show you.” He steps off to the side closer to the metal barrier that separates the crowd and yourselves and you watch as the group’s faces light up at him. They cover their mouths in excitement and mouth to each to “be chill or be calm”. It’s hard to read their lips.

The way they feel right now is how you would be reacting to meeting him or Noah in an alternative universe where Matt and you had never met on that walk that one day. Every time you're invited back to the sound deck, you feel like a fan again.

Matt says, “Have fun!” to the group and returns to your side. “So, I was thinking about something cool you could do if you’re interested?”

“Sure,” you raise an eyebrow at him as he walks a couple of feet over to the lighting board on the table.

“Do you want to control the lights during the Concrete Jungle call and response thing?” He pats the console.

“What? Me?” You say, shocked, yet excited. “Hell yes, but what if I mess it up?”

“It’s super easy, not even you could mess it up,” he teases and you give him an eye roll. “I swear. All you have to do is control these two faders; up for brightening down for dimming, and you just lead the crowd to chant “Jun-gle” using the lights. You’ve seen it almost every night for the past week, you’ll be fine.”

“I’ll do it,” you nod slowly.

“Here, practice,” he grabs your hands to rest them on the correct sliders on the board. He’s soft when he guides your fingers to push the sliders upward, slowly, which gradually brightens the lights overhead the stage. Various groups of fans cheer in the crowd for the lighting, hopeful it’s a sign for their show to begin. Matt guides your fingers back down the board and the lights dim to black again. “Now, do it yourself, just faster,” he leans back on his foot and crosses his arms over his chest watching you experiment with the sliders.

“Ok,” you let out a quick breath. Your heart beats fast in your chest, but you would have time to settle your nerves as you wouldn’t have to do this until Dethrone, their final song of the night. “I think I have the hang of it.”

“Good, because that’s all you,” he says. “Sometimes I forget that you're a fan of all of this. I want you to have more of these experiences,” Matt leans in close to your ear, in hopes only you would hear him. “I know I can be an ass, but you deserve to have the time of your life on this tour. I want this to work out.”

“Yeah, I know,” you squish his cheeks with your fingers. He reels back and swats your hand away, but laughs with you before returning to his soundboard and set up. Once he’s out of earshot, you mumble, “I want all of this to work out too, believe me.”

—

You sang to yourself and danced at a volume that wouldn’t take Matt's or fans' attention from the stage as you stand with him tonight.

While you were still reeling from your day with Matt, you still missed Noah. Your heart yearned for them equally, although it is hard to forget the six words that came out of Matt’s mouth last night. “I’m in love with you, Y/N.” It has been on repeat all day.

The nights you weren’t invited into the sound deck you would stand sidestage and would get hyped up with Folio as he passed you funny looks from his drum throne. Noah would partake in the antics, too, when it wouldn’t take away from his performance. Like: Having dance-offs with you when the audience thinks he’s dancing alone, or giving you eyebrows and a smirk at certain parts of his lyrics, and when he undresses down to a tank top mid-set.

Tonight, you don’t have to hide your gaze on his hands as he lifts his overshirt above his head. The way the muscles in his back and biceps flex involuntarily by the motion makes you shutter.

It was the same feeling you felt the first time watching him live. The bass of his growls coming through the stage monitors vibrate in your chest and makes your thighs clench. Sometimes, you wonder how long he can hold his breath as he holds on to notes and screams. You imagine his tattooed hands spreading and gripping your thighs apart uneager to come up for air as he feasts on your aching cunt.

Matt can’t hear your thoughts even standing a few feet from you, but you feel like he can so you sneak cautious glances over at him when these delicious thoughts pass through your mind to he if he reacts in any way.

The show was coming up to ‘Dethrone’. Noah has nearly finished his first encore of the night and you take your place in front of the lighting board with your fingers touching lightly on the sliders Matt showed you earlier.

While waiting patiently for Noah’s cue to you, he finds your eyes in the sound deck. His dark eyes match yours directly. Surely, he can’t be looking at you? You wonder. You feel like a fan in the crowd who’s just made eye contact with their favorite band member for the first time. He nods at you, and then he begins.

“Concrete,” he growls into the mic before ticking his fore and middle fingers at you twice.

“Jungle!” You slide the light faders in tandem and they glow above the stage with each syllable the crowd screams.

Noah and you go back and forth. His eyes never leave yours, even as he paces back and forth on the stage, and he successfully directs you through his chant. The room is packed as it’s a sold-out show, but you feel as though it’s only you two present.

He tosses you a proud smile as he begins ‘Dethrone’ and it makes your legs melt.

Fuck, he’s so hot. Distracted by him, you hadn’t realized the number of times he had unintentionally made you blush and make the hairs on your neck rise. Let alone let you realize the growing need for him building up fast in your abdomen. You want any part of him, and preferably more than a kiss tonight.

You watch him perform their final song in awe; you can imagine your tongue rolling out of your mouth and drooling onto the pit floor.

—

After fans have fully exited the venue, you’re left with Matt in the sound deck with a couple of other guys from the crew.

You catch Matt yawning and he asks, “Are you sleepy yet?”

“I’ve found I have a lot of energy after each show. I’m gonna stay up for a bit,” you explain. Your lying streak made this fib too easy to tell. While you had a lot of energy, it wasn’t because of the music or the atmosphere, it was because of Noah. Impulsive thoughts appear like demonic ghouls floating around in your head whenever your sexual needs aren’t met. You wanted so badly to throw yourself at Noah the second you saw him next; to re-do your first kiss? To go even further? However, you can’t, if Matt is to be too close tonight. He was learning to be okay with you having gone on a date with Noah, but you’re unsure of his reaction if he were to find out about you doing anything more.

“I want to try to get to the showers first, but I should get all of this down so we don’t have to worry about it in the morning,” he stretches.

“Go and shower, get to bed,” you rub Matt’s shoulder with care. “I’m gonna stay here and help out.”

“M’Kay,” he yawns again. “Goodnight, Y/N. Make sure my stuff gets packed up real nicely. You’re the only one I trust.”

“Yes sir,” you give him a faux salute as he walks off toward the back of the venue. You smile at him, but your stomach lurches. He trusts you. He’s in love with you! I am being manipulative, you think guiltily.

You spend around forty-five minutes tearing down the sound deck making sure to pack Matt’s equipment, cords, wires, and laptops carefully away. You handled his things with care, even though you were half-distracted by the throbbing between your legs.

“Y/N,” a male voice calls from behind you.

It’s a crew member’s voice. Their usual lighting and production tech who helps Matt in the sound deck. “Hm?” You turn around to meet his face.

“Go ahead and wind down for the night. We’ll take care of the rest,” he nods toward the back of house. “Thanks for helping.”

“Of course, anytime. Goodnight everyone,” you set what you’re working on down and start walking toward Bad Omen’s green room with a sense of urgency.

Once inside, you grab your bag, your nighttime relaxation clothes, and the clean towel you pack in case you want to take a late-night shower. Tonight you do, but you doubt you’re going to be doing your wash routine.

Please be in here and alone. Please.

“Noah, are you in here?” You call out his name as you push open the door to the showers. The layout of the room is more like a locker room than the past showers you have used at other venues. One side of the room is lined with sizable shower stalls with floor-length curtains for privacy, while the other side of the room has a wall of lockers and benches. On them, you notice Noah’s backpack and nicely folded clothing. His boots sit together underneath the glossy, wooden bench.

“I’m in the second stall,” he talks over the sound of the steaming water raining down over him. A light mist rises over the top of his curtain and dissipates as it hits the ceiling. You can’t see him the way you could the night before.

You bite your lip anxiously. What are you doing? You ask yourself. Your body feels hot by how turned on you are and it keeps you warm as you strip yourself naked. Pulling your panties down your legs, you notice a prominent wet spot accumulated by the pool of your arousal. You stuff all of your belongings into an empty locker and softly click it closed.

His name falls from your lips before you can catch it, “Noah?”

It wasn’t in your plan for him to poke his head through the curtain, but he does. “Yeah?” His voice is innocent, but his eyes widen once he sees the sight of you. Your arms bravely stick to your sides to allow him to gain you in full. “Shit,” he hisses under his breath while making haste with the outline of your body. You watch his eyes roam you as you stand there in heavy silence before he opens the curtain a little more to invite you inside. “You’re so damn beautiful,” he says as you stand in front of him. Once you’re in the stall, you feel like his eyes will never leave yours. So, if you tried to sneak a peek anywhere but his face, he would most definitely know.

“Thank you,” your cheeks feel hot. “Is it okay if I shower with you?”

“Mhm,” he nods and hums. His low tone reverberates against the walls of the shower stall. “I was hoping you would. You have no idea the thoughts that have been running through my head since last night.”

His admission makes you feel tingly. “I hope I’m not moving too fast. This feels so out of character for me,” you shake your hands out.

“I want to move as slow or as fast as you do,” he confides to you in a low tone. His fingers reach to the crook of your neck and trace down your shoulder, to your bicep, to your forearm, and rest to intertwine with your fingers.

“You looked so good on stage tonight,” you admit as you look up at him with shining eyes. “Every night, I watch you perform, and it—,”

“And what?” Noah steps into your bubble. The tips of your breasts just barely graze his skin.

“I get so turned on,” you’re nearly talking into his clavicle. He slightly shutters as your breath hits his skin. “Noah, I’m so pent up, it hurts.”

“I can help,” he nods and his wet bangs sway. You watch the water from his hair drip onto your chest. The varying temperature makes you shiver. He notices this. “Get yourself wet first,” he instructs while switching places with you for you to stand under the running shower head.

You run your hands through your hair and close your eyes to enjoy the heat. You feel the same tickly feeling on your breasts that you always feel around him, so you open your eyes to catch his gaze from your tits when you admit, “Noah, I swear I’m already wet.”

His laugh and toothy smile make you warm inside, as much as the hot water warms your skin on the outside. He leans in close to press a kiss into your cheek, “I want to feel how wet you are, Y/N. But first, I want you to look at me. I give you permission,” his shoulders shake as he laughs at you trying your best to look at every shiny tile that lines the stall rather than his nude form.

When he backs away, your eyes trail his body. The freckles on his shoulders are the first of what you see. You reach out to touch them, but his hands come to your bare hips to push you slowly until you’re both underneath the warm, running water. The water moves in slow motion and you follow it with your eyes as it hits his chest and drips lower to his stomach. His waistline is spotted with water droplets. You take one last big breath before letting your gaze fall to his groin. He’s half hard and the tattoos around his lower stomper and thighs surround his member like he’s a work of art. Your shoulders shake a tiny bit when you chuckle at the sight of his wet leg hair and impatient toes that are dancing, waiting for you to look back up at his face.

You look up to meet Noah’s eyes, but you can’t help but sneak glances at his lips. “You’re so beautiful,” you whisper to him as you wrap your hands behind his neck and pull him down into your kiss.

He hums against your lips as if to thank you. Noah’s arms wrap around your body as you detach and reattach to his mouth in fervor. He scratches your back with his nails and grips the skin of your back. He tastes so good, so fresh. Your tongues fight each other for dominance and you win.

Noah groans when he feels your hand caress down his stomach and slowly makes its way to wrap around his half-hard cock. He feels so warm in your hand like he’s blushing down there. You open your eyes while making out with him and his cheeks are glowing pink. The sight of his dick on your small hand gives you raging confidence and makes your heart burst.

You begin to stroke him while kissing him. He grows harder in your hands and grows longer, and thicker. You move your lips and teeth and attach them to the side of his neck as he allows heavy breaths to fall from his lips. “I like the way your cock hardens in my hand,” you moan in his ear.

Noah grips your ass and it makes you pull away from his neck to whine. “I like that,” he moans. “So fucking much, you don’t even know. But, I want to help you. You can make me cum another time.”

You bite your lip and nod.

“Spread your legs, just a little bit,” he commands in a low tone. You spread your legs apart and he praises, “Yeah, just like that.”

He dips his head to your left breast and latches on, tongue first, to the nipple while kneading your other breast with his hand fingers. Water splashes off to the sides of the shower as he presses himself into you.

“Ah,” you whine when his dominant hand leaves your chest to snake between your bodies to your core. The pads of his fingers find your clit and give you a firm press before sliding through your folds, curiously.

Your dazed eyes meet Noah’s as he pulls his hand from your cunt to show you the clear, slimy juices that drool down his fingers. “I really do turn you on, huh?” He boasts before sticking his fore and middle fingers between his lips and lapping your arousal away.

“Mhm,” you moan at the sight of him licking his fingers clean.

Noah plays with your nipples with his empty hand while the right one is brought back to your pussy. “Do you remember when I heard you say my name?”

“Hm?” You’re dizzy and can’t fully think of what he’s referring to.

“The second night of the tour. The morning after, I asked you if you needed to ask me a question because I heard you say my name,” he explains while rubbing your clit in expert figure-eights. “Noah.”

Your eyes shoot open and meet his eyes, but they’re attached to your lips. “I was touching myself. Thinking about you,” you admit while whining on his fingers.

Suddenly, his fingers pinch your clit gently, but with enough force to make you cry out, “Noah.” The pain makes you shutter and collapse against his form.

“I’ve been waiting to hear my name come from your perfect lips again,” he chuckles while pinching your nipples at the same time. “Good girl. Now, tell me what you were thinking about.”

“I was thinking about, fuck,” you grind against his hand as he releases your clit to palm your cunt. “I brought my favorite sex toys with me. I was imagining you using them on me.”

“We can do whatever you want,” he speaks low into your ear before kissing your neck. His longest fingers prod your entrance and tease your pussy with quick, shallow pumps. The palm of his hand presses firmly into your clit and you grab his forearm for balance. You feel it flex under your fingers. “Do you want to cum on my fingers?”

“Yes, please, I need you—,” you squeak out.

The sound of the locker room door swinging open causes Noah to turn you around and press your back against his chest. His hard cock rests against your ass and you want to grind on him so badly, to make him feel good too.

“Noah, could I borrow your phone charger? I’ve lost mine already,” you hear Nick call out to Noah from the entrance of the room.

Noah covers your mouth with his hand and you breathe softly through your nose. His other hand cautiously rubs circles on your throbbing, aching clit as he responds, “Yeah, Nick, that’s fine. You can find it in the second pocket of my backpack.”

You start to grind up against Noah feeling his dick harden against your skin, again, and his hand pressing hard into your private region. You need relief.

Nick’s footsteps echo through the room, and you can feel your heartbeat matching the pace of his steps; so quick and to the point.

Noah continues his movements but goes a bit further to test the waters. He uses his weight to hike you up a bit further and you get the sign to stand on your tiptoes and bend your knees just a bit. Noah reaches his fingers between your thighs again and dips them in your slick cunt, slowly.

Your eyes roll back into your head, and you do your best to stay silent. You hope the running shower can hide how your breath hitches as Noah curls his fingers inside of you, stretching you out.

“Nick, when you find it,” Noah’s voice vibrates against you, “you can keep it. I have two others in my bunk.”

“Thanks, man. I got it now. Good night!” Nick says before you hear his steps towards the door and the door closing behind him.

With Nick gone, you moan against Noah’s palm on your mouth freely. His fingers are slim, but they’re so long and reach the best spots inside of you. His thumb rubs your clit as he fucks you with his fingers.

“Such a good girl for staying quiet,” he praises and removes his hand from fully covering your mouth only to prod your lips with his fingers to stuff them between your teeth. “Now, be loud for me.”

His name is broken as you try to say it, “No-ahhhhh, ple—please!” Your eagerness for full relief drives you to grind harder on his fingers, so much, you're bouncing on them and doing the work for him.

Noah supports your hips so you don’t slip on the wet tile. “I know, I know,” he says daringly while kissing the crown of your head. “Go ahead and cum, you deserve it.”

“Fuck, thank you—,” you hiss as you reach up and tangle your fingers up into the back of his hair. You release on his fingers and he hooks them to repeatedly hit your G-spot as you ride through your high.

“That was so hot,” he praises into your ear. “But, let’s try not to get caught again, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you laugh as you stand while holding the wall for support.

“Let me clean you up. We still need to actually take our showers,” he holds your waist and pulls you back into the water.

—

“Are the showers going to start being our new meeting place?” He chuckles as wraps your fresh towel around your shoulders. The one you stuffed into the locker when you came in. You patted yourself on the back for remembering to do it or else Nick would have definitely known you two were hearing together.

“Maybe,” you shrug at him with a smile. While you enjoyed your private meetings, you also wished you could say and do everything you wanted to you with him in front of everyone else. You could feel that keeping things secret was starting to get harder on your mental health. Sex is the main thing you don't mind keeping behind closed doors.

Noah’s head pops up as if he has had an epiphany. “Do you want to go on another date before we go to sleep?”

“Of course!” you match his excitement with your arms loosely wrapped around his waist.

“Good, because I already have an idea of where can go,” Noah reaches into the front pocket of his backpack to retrieve his phone. You peak at his screen as he opens his Yelp account and searches for the best milkshakes nearby.

—

Noah sits across from you in a black hoodie covering his hair. His lips are wrapped around one of the white and red striped bendy straws in your shared cookies and cream milkshake. He giggles as you pull out your phone to take a picture of him and his hand comes to cover your phone camera.

You playfully fight his hand away while snapping a couple of shaky pictures. “I need more pictures of you!” You whine. “You took so many of me when we were in Boston.”

“We can take one together,” he pulls his phone out of his hoodie pocket and angles it towards your faces. You both take a sip from the shake and he takes a picture. He looks at it before showing you, “You’re so cute.”

“Mhm,” you hum, sipping through your straw. This milkshake was definitely in the top three of all you have ever had. Noah knows how to pick good places.

“So, tell me,” he sits up a little higher in his seat before leaning forward. “Everything. Everything about you that you didn't day on our first date.”

“Noah, it’s past midnight,” you chuckle, but he still looks at you with eager eyes. He wants to know you. Everything about you. You mentally note that one day you could reach the level of comfort that Matt and you have, and you want to try to get there with Noah. “We have the next two days to talk, too,” you kick your legs in excitement and he smiles when they brush him. It’s pretty easy to touch him; his long legs take up the majority of the space under the tiny table you’re sitting at. “What should we do with all of our free time?”

“I have one idea of how we can spend a lot of our time together,” he shrugs and gives you a knowing smile.

“What?” You giggle with your tongue on the straw.

“You could share a bed with me at the hotel we get to stay in for the next two nights,” he suggests.

Your eyebrows raise in intrigue, “Mmm.”

“We would have to have one other person to share our room with us for the room costs to be worth it, but I would get to sleep next to you for real, instead of across from you,” he plays with his hands over the table.

“We’ve slept next to each other every night on the bus,” you think out loud. “I would feel comfortable with that, I think.”

Noah moves his fidgeting to the strings of his hoodie. You love to watch how nervous he gets talking to you. It’s charming. “I really like the way we talk to each other across the short space between us when everyone else is asleep,” he admits and you pout your lip at him in awe. “I’ve never told you this, but sometimes I’ll stay up and watch you sleep when you forget to close your curtain.”

You lean forward and rest your hand on your cheek.

“Also, because I stay up,” he sips on his straw. “That’s how I knew about— you know?”

You gulp down the shake in your mouth so as not to choke on it. He’s referencing what he reminded you of earlier in the shower. Noah. “Oh, yeah, that.” Your face heats up.

One of his hands shoots towards your open hand resting on the table. “That didn’t bother me by the way,” he reassures. “I’m flattered, honestly. Feel free to think about me all the time.”

You giggle before watching his fingers interlace with yours.

“You make me really excited, Y/N. I haven’t thought about being in a relationship with anyone for a long time. I feel so preoccupied with so many other things, but when I think about that with you… it feels possible.”

“Noah, that feels so good to know,” you say softly, it’s almost a whisper. You feel vulnerable now. “You have no idea how much of a dream it is to get to know you that way I had when I was just a fan three months ago.”

“I love that you’re a fan, but you’re also my equal. I was pulled into you the second I saw you. I still think back to us sitting on the patio bench at the L.A. studio together,” he squeezes your hand.

“Me too,” you agree. You two sit in comfortable silence for a beat.

“You don’t have to tell me everything I need to know about you, yet,” he chuckles. But, before we go back, can I ask you two questions?”

You push the empty shake glass to the side and hold both of his hands in the center of the table. “I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all I want,” he says. “First, do you say yes to at least rooming with me at the hotel the next two nights?”

“Yes,” you nod with an excited smile. Whether you’ll have to live with the consequences of your answer or not, you’ll see.

“Lucky me,” he smiles. “Second—,” he takes his time to continue, “what are you looking for with your time with me? Is it just fun, a relationship… I want to know.”

[midnightsimpsstuff]

WOMAN IN MY BED

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Includes: established relationships, fluff, changing into woman, suggestive content, a little ooc, written in second person, this fic takes place in third year.

Summary: Bakugou gets turned into a girl because of some random kid that you both had saved the day before. You show him how fun it is to be a girl and in other words your girlfriend.

a/n: Hey! This is my first time writing for Bakugou, so I really hope you enjoy this. By the way, this isn’t proof read and English is not my first language.

Word Count: 1.5k

It was a beautiful Saturday morning, sunlight carefully placed itself through the blinds in your dorm room and landed on the bed in which you and your boyfriend, Katsuki Bakugou lay in.

You were not in the mood to stand up yet, and Katsuki for some weird reason was yet to get up from the bed for his usual early morning run, but you weren’t complaining. With a small smile on your face you snuggled deeper in your boyfriend as you spooned him.

You moved your hand up a little into his chest to pull him in closer, but you realised that the lump that was once his chest had become considerably bigger. Out of pure confusion you squeezed it and your boyfriend woke up, feeling confused. As you sat up and took a good look at him. What was this beautiful woman doing in your bed? And where was your boyfriend?

“Uhm Kats? Is that you?” you said, your voice small from just waking up, you scratched your eyes to get the sleep out of your eyes, you felt like you were still dreaming.

“Of course it’s me, what kind of question is that?” he, well she said but her voice sounded more feminine and to you a little sexy. ‘It’s not fair!’ you thought to yourself. “You might want to take a look at yourself” you said while still mesmerized by her.

He sat up and took a look at the mirror that was opposite of your bed, and he couldn’t help but scream and scurry off your bed.

“Why do I look this way?” he looked at you as he asked as if you know, he was standing now and you could take your time to admire him appropriately, his body had noticeably reduced in size and he was wearing one of his black tank tops that made him look even curvier if you might say, he was in one of his boxer shorts and he looked noticeably shorter.

His hair for some reason no more spiky but sat beautifully on his shoulders and upper back, and he seemed like he had natural mascara, ‘Totally not fair.’ you couldn’t help but think to yourself.

Your boyfriend, was the most beautiful girl you had ever seen, as you were looking at him, well her, his hand began snapping in your face to make you concentrate on him, but you already were so there was no point of that anyways.

“Oh! I think it’s because of that boy we saved yesterday, he told me privately weird things happen when he uses his quirk this might be one of them.” You said shrugging as you continued to look at him.

You were no better than a man the way you watched him.

“Come back to bed, Katsuki. Let me see what we can do with this new body of yours as we still have it.” You said looking at him while licking your lips.

He blushed and although that sounded very promising, he couldn’t help but ask, “We have to find how to change me back first.” He said while looking away from you and going to look for something else for him to wear in your closet.

“He also said you would be fine in 24 hours but your very accepting of this, you know?” you said, shamefully watching him walk away. “Well sorry I also want to see what I could do now that I look like this.” he laughed as he threw his tank top that he had now removed at you.

“Oh, my boobs are bigger than yours.” He said before running into the bathroom to run away from you before you could do anything to him, but for some reason you didn’t you only hummed in agreement and he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. You were whipped but luckily he was to.

Both of you had now changed into your clothes. You wore a red, baggy Hawk’s merch and a pair of sweatpants that dropped from your waist, it was Katsuki’s before he became a woman, and it gave everyone a peak of your Calvin Klein boxers. You felt like the man in the relationship so you wanted to play the part.

He wore one of your black V-necks and a low rise jean to give a beak of the black thong he wore, courtesy of you but he wanted to whether it feels as sexy as it looks.

You two had woken up earlier than the others as usual. Since, you both were too lazy you both decided opt just eat cereal for the time being and then began discussing what you were going to do for the time being.

When everyone else had woken up they were met with a sight they were sure they won’t forget. Todoroki and Kirishima were the first to come to the common room that morning.

Kirishima was planning on making a protein shake he saw online and he wanted to try and make it earlier than usual in case he failed he didn’t want people to see or for everyone to know the reason the kitchen was messed up was his fault and Todoroki happened to know how to make it so he was willing to teach him.

So you could imagine the shock on their face when instead of them meeting an empty common room they found you manspreading on the couch and a really curvy woman straddling you as you looked at her all lovey-dovey as you massaged her waist.

“Y/N, definitely not manly!” Kirishima said after he had taken a picture and sending it to Bakugou. He was at loss for words, well Todoroki was by far worse since he couldn’t even form a sentence. He didn’t take you for a cheater. Definitely not you!

“What would Bakugou say when he comes back from his run and sees you hear partaking in scandalous activities with this stranger?” Todoroki said trying to fan himself so he wouldn’t faint from shock.

Bakugou couldn’t help but smile, his friends won’t let him cheat on you. At least that’s good to know, in case of future, hopefully it won’t happen in the future.

Before he could explain himself, they all heard a ding from his pocket. He took it out to see a picture of what was happening right now but he couldn’t deny, you both looked hot. He saved it and looked behind him and turned to see the look of shock on both of your friend’s faces.

“Bakubro?” Kirishima finally let out making eye contact with the red-eyed female, it was only him and Katsuki’s mother knew that also had the striking red eyes.

“Yes, dumbass?” he said now smiling, this was so funny to him, “Oh my Mother of all things Manly, Bakubro, you make such a beautiful woman.” Kirishima couldn’t help but say, his face was a little red.

“I know.” He said while smirking, he got off your lap then took a seat on the couch, then continued you two’s conversation on who was better, Hawks or Miruko. It’s obvious who was for who.

“This is so cool, do you mind if I write this in my notebook, Kachaan?” Izuku had said to your boyfriend once you had explained the whole predicament to the class.

Once again you were confused why they were all so accepting and understanding about this, you didn’t understand how they weren’t freaking out, if you weren’t his girlfriend you know you would’ve.

Bakugou simply swatted his hand at Izuku motioning that he could do whatever he wants. Before taking you by the hand and leading you outside the building completely. You were supposed to take him to your favourite record store today, and maybe buy him a Victoria Secret lingerie and maybe a dildo….

Night time had come and he was really happy to use everything you two had bought, and now you both were doing with your scandalous activities and both just finished showering now you were cuddled up reminiscing all the things that had happened that day.

From the group of boys that couldn’t stop gawking at you both, or Hawks asking if you were truly cheating on Bakugou because he was on patrol and happened to see you kissing a girl, or the matching press ons you both got but how you removed for Katsuki because you knew he wouldn’t want to stress himself doing that before he goes on his run tomorrow as a man again.

He had requested for you to spoon him again and you obviously complied, even allowed you to put your hand under his shirt, he smiled as he heard your soft breathing indicating you had fallen asleep and he knew today was a day to remember.

[bbunivxrse]

AHHH I LOVED UR "HATED HIM" GOJO FIC ITS SO CUTEE🥹 I WANNA SEE A PART 2!! im curious will the reader date gojo or js continue to hate him lmao

❥ IMPROVEMENTS - SATORU GOJO

pairing: gojo x f!reader contents: pt 2 to this fic although you dont need to read it to understand this one. no warnings js fluff here !!! word count: 2.5k on the DOT a/n: HII NONNIE IM SSOOO HAPPY U LIKED IT!!! im sorry this took so long ive been busy with work and exams coming up :( hopefully i can post more often soon :((( ANYWAZ ENJOY

so maybe you don’t hate Satoru Gojo. not anymore. since that moment you shared with him, you thought everything would go back to normal, and for the most part it did. well, you think it did, but everyone else saw the changes clear as day.

as time passed, from an outside perspective it seemed like the two of you suddenly had a… “stable” friendship. both “stable” and “friendship” being used very very loosely. although gojo prefered “happy relationship” and “loving marriage”. the yelling matches (you yelling at gojo while he just sits there and smiles like an idiot) that used to occur multiple times daily went down to only once a day, if at all. you didn’t seem to shoo him away as much or rant about how annoying he is. it was almost like you were warming up to him.

if nobody knew what had happened between the two of you it would’ve seemed like a random switch that went off one day, except everyone did know what happened, cuz gojo’s big mouth went and told everyone the next fucking day. to escape being made fun of to no end, you told everyone you only kissed him so he’d shut up and there was no feelings beyond that, which was half true. the other half of you knew that being all bandaged up by him after a mission gone wrong, sitting in his bed while he tells you how much he cares about you, a man who’d usually piss you off and act all goofy. to see him like that was like a breath of really fresh air and kinda changed the way you saw him.

obviously he was still super annoying and pissed you off, but he seemed to finally get the memo and tuned it down so that it was actually manageable. his laugh was suddenly cuter, his face was less punchable and his flirting was almost starting to fluster you. almost. he still made those stupid comments and monologues for waaayy too long but he got a lot sweeter in his teasing and actions. he somehow found out what your favourite foods and places to eat were and bought you food after long days of school, training sessions and missions and took you to places around tokyo on outings “dates”. your friendship with him was finally tolerable. 

waking up on a sunday morning, you hear the sound of buzzing from your phone on your bedside table. 

incoming call from gojo.

its way too early for him to be bothering you already, but you know very well that if you don’t pick up now he’ll keep calling til you do. you silently curse shoko for giving him your number when he asked her, since he already knew you’d say no to him. “what do you want?” you answer his call, putting the phone to your ear as you sit up in bed. “good morning to you too i guess..” you can hear the pouting in his voice. “what are you up to today??” 

“i’m training a bit with nanami and haibara later.” you check the clock on the table, mentally starting to plan when you’re gonna start getting ready to meet the two of them. “nanami!? why would you train with him!? he doesn’t know anything.” he seemed to completely tune out the second name you mentioned

“he knows more than you.” you laugh at his dramatic gasp over the phone, picturing the look on his face. “whateverrrr. you should train with me instead!” 

“no.” 

“what!? why not?? im soooo much better than him!” you can hear the passion in his voice and you begin to wonder how he can have so much energy so early in the morning, especially on a sunday. “please humble yourself, and i already told nanami i’d train with them anyway.” you glance back at your clock, continuing to consider how long you can stay in bed for. “fiiineee. we can train together next time. what’re you doing after that?” 

“after training i’m gonna…” your voice trails off as you think back to earlier this week, trying to recall if you had made any other plans with anyone for today. “not doing anything later. i’m probably gonna go back to my dorm.” you confessed, forgetting exactly who you were on the phone with. “oh so you’re free later? perfect! we sh-“ 

“no, i’m not free. i’m going back to my dorm gojo. and i’m staying there. all day.” you make sure to give him the details of your plan to stay in your room so he doesn’t have any wiggle room to plan anything. “hmmmm.. okay! ill just come over then!” 

“what?? n-“ 

“cyalaterbye!!” you hear the phone beep as he hangs up, now looking down at your lock screen. 'god he’s sooo annoying.'

getting out of bed after looking down at your clock again, you decide you have more than enough time to watch a bit of the show you’ve been catching up on. maybe about two and a half episodes?

checking the time halfway through the first episode, you decide you’re not in the mood to continue watching and you’ll watch a movie instead after training. you get up and begin getting ready for the scheduled training session you had, lightly fixing up your hair so you looked presentable and throwing on your uniform before heading out. 

training with nanami and haibara went well, and you were all surprised gojo didn’t show up to bother you but you figured he was busy with his own thing. coming home you immediately threw your uniform onto the floor and went to take a shower, feeling all gross and sweaty. ‘ill pick it up later.’

you turn the water on, allowing it to get hot before stepping into the shower. you decided to use your favourite body wash that smelled like heaven in a bottle, the scent filling up the entire bathroom and making all the air around you smell like your favourite fragrance. you linger in the shower for a bit, the hot water feeling therapeutic against your skin. once you were done you headed back to your room, throwing on some comfy flared sweats and a random tank top from your wardrobe. looking in the mirror, the outfit was surprisingly cute, and really comfortable.

in a good mood from the nice shower and already feeling pretty after only putting on some  random clothes, you decided to have fun and do some light makeup. maybe you’ll run a few errands later? you were a bit low on snacks at the moment.

finishing off your makeup with a pretty lipgloss, you look in your little snack drawer to see what you had left. some gum, a few candies and one bag of your favourite chips you’re planning to save. maybe it was time to restock. 

you throw on a light jacket and grab your bag, gathering your essentials and getting your shoes on before leaving your dorm. you decided to go to the little convenience store only a few minutes away since they had all the snacks you like. 

within a few minutes you made it to the store, picking out a bunch of snacks and candies you liked. as you were looking at the new flavours of candy they had, the bell by the door jingled as someone entered the store. “y/n!!” you heard a familiar voice behind you. “why are you here?? you said you were staying in your dorm. all day.” gojo mocks the tone you used with him on the phone earlier. “i changed my mind. why are you here?” 

“satoru wanted to get some candy on the way home.” suguru appears from behind him, giving you a smile and a polite wave. “hmm.. they have a nice selection here, what do you think i should get?” gojo puts a hand to his chin as he looks through all the candies. “the sour green apple candy from this brand is really good. and the lemon flavour too, they’re my favourites.” you say as you point to the candies. “then they’re my favourites too,” gojo immediately picks up two of each flavour you recommended, before picking a few other candies he knows you like.

“you do not need all that sweetness. think about your health.” suguru grimaces at the amount of sweets in gojos hands. “i’m not gonna eat all of it! do you really think that low of me? i’m sharing with my girlfriend.” he plops his purchase on the counter for the cashier, smiling down at you “and i’m still coming over,” 

“i didnt agree to that, nor do you have girlfriend.” 

“don’t care,” gojo shrugs as he takes his bag full of your favourite candies, cheerfully skipping out the door followed by you and suguru. the two of you followed as he happily pranced down the street and back to school. 

“you’re really not gonna leave me alone?” 

“nope!” you and gojo stand outside your dorm as he waits for you to unlock the door. you sign at his persistence, grabbing your keys from your bag and opening the door. he had never actually been in your dorm before so this was like a new world to him. “kinda messy in here. you needa clean up a bit y/n” gojo steps inside as if it were his own house, yet looks around at your space as if he were at a museum. “do you ever shut up? and take your shoes off. don’t step on my nice carpet. if it gets dirty i will kill you.” 

“yes ma’am.” he obeyed as if his life was truly in danger. you take off your own shoes, putting your jacket and bag away before plopping yourself on your bed. you watch gojo pace around your small dorm room, picking up random objects to inspect before humming and placing it back down. you know he should be monitored carefully while in proximity of your stuff but you really can’t be bothered to babysit right now and just allow him to stimulate himself.

after a few minutes of replying to missed texts from a few of your friends, you hear gojo sigh, dropping the bag of candy on the floor and placing his glasses alongside the makeup you put on earlier. you realize he hadn’t said a word for those few minutes. “you’re being too silent, what are yo-“ gojo fully drops himself on top of you, his hard head hitting your chest so hard you swear you heard a rib crack. “holy fucking shit you fatass, get off me!! you’re heavy.” you try to push him off you but he doesn’t budge. “but ‘m tired baby,” he whines as he made himself more comfortable on top of you. “i will kill you.” 

“m‘kay..” gojo yawns, wrapping his arms around you. now you’re stuck, great. you honestly didn’t think the word ‘tired’ existed in gojo’s vocabulary since he somehow always has energy. you had never seen him sleep before, which sounds somewhat normal until you remember the overnight trips and missions you and your classmates went on frequently, where gojo never slept. or he never let anyone see him sleep. you didn’t really realize it until now, with him on your chest already seeming close to knocking out.

as much as it annoyed you that you couldn’t get up to eat the candy he’d bought for the two of you to have, you figured if you woke him up he’d just bother the shit out of you until you let him sleep again, and you honestly realize how cute he is when he’s quiet. sighing in defeat, you open up your laptop that you had left on your bed earlier and throw on a movie you had already wanted to watch today. “hm..? what’s that?” gojo mumbles as he’s half asleep. “the movie suguru recommended me the other day. the one about the samurai?” 

“ohhh.” gojo turns his head away from the screen to rest on the other side of his head “that one sucks. and the main character dies.” 

“ugh, spoiler warning next time??” you flick the top of his head as he laughs. you scroll through the selection of movies on the site, humming occasionally while adding interesting movies to your watch later list. eventually you find a random movie that you had never heard of but it looks interesting enough and decide to watch it. the large boy laying on top of you turns his head back to the screen once he hears the new film playing. this time he doesn’t say anything, but you notice his eyes struggling to stay open as he yawns literally every waking minute.

“gojo why don’t you go back to your dorm to sleep? you can barely keep your eyes open,” you giggle at him as he tries to look offended but clearly doesn’t have to energy to. “mn-mm. ‘m watchin… with my wife.” he yawns mid sentence. “well i’m not your wife, soooo…” 

“you are my wife… we’re married… you remember.”  you know he normally only says stuff like that to get under your skin, but sometimes it sounds like he truly believes it, which is a bit scary. you can’t even pay attention to the movie with how hard you’re contemplating to get him off you and in his own bed, but it seems there’s truly no solution. he’s a freakishly tall and muscular man with 100% of his body weight on top of you, so you obviously can’t push him off. and he clearly wont willingly get up, and you know you can’t convince him to get up, so you begin to accept that you might actually be stuck here. 

“ill let you stay if you grab the bag of candy for me,” gojo seems to be too tired to remember that there’s nothing you can do to force him to leave and he easily could’ve refused. he lazily throws the bag onto the bed beside you before plopping himself right back where he was before. “now lemme stay.” you roll your eyes instinctively, grabbing the bag and picking out one of the candies gojo had picked for you. he lets out one last yawn before allowing his tiredness to consume him.

as you open up the sweets and start eating, you look down at gojo. you never really took a moment to actually realize how pretty he really is, and especially how cute he looks while he sleeps. as creepy as that sounds. you think it’s because his mouth is finally shut and he’s not saying the most annoying sentences he can come up with, or constantly blabbering to you about stuff you never asked him about and have no interest in. you honestly didn’t mind this heavy man peacefully asleep on top of you as you eat candy and watch a movie. it was quite nice, actually. maybe you’ll start to allow gojo to do things like this more often. 

i really had no idea how to end this :SOB: but it turned out well i hope. pls send requests btw i have ZERO idea what to write neext

[girlbloggersfolly]

DELTA DAWN - part 1 // Camp Woodrow

Pairing: camp counsellour!joel miller x camp lifeguard!afab!reader

Rating: Explicit (not yet but it will be) 18+ MDNI

Word count: 5.4k

Summary: (1979 summer camp AU) After making a spontaneous trip northwest to a summer camp in need of staff with a few new friends, you find not everyone is so welcoming.

Chapter warnings: age gap (20 + 49), a whole lot of me waffling, extreme slow burn enemies to lovers ect ect ect, swearing, drug use, cigarettes, complicated relationship (not joel and reader.. yet), perv!reader, f!masturbation. absolutely NO use of y/n, reader has hair that can be put in a ponytail, and she can swim duh. This chapter is very tame, basically, just setting it up.

a/n: ok wow this is exciting, first chapter done and i'm pretty happy with it. Just a warning, i really mean it when I say slow burn, there will be no fluffing around at alllllll for a couple chapters, i'm not sure where i'm taking this or how long it will be, i'm thinking maybe 4? anyway enough chatter there'll be enough of that in the fic, if your reading this i love you sooooo much!!!!!!!

Camp Woodrow 1979

The Knack blasted from Sharon’s stereo, smoke plumed from Billies Joint, you’d been driving for a night or so. Mid-morning sun streamed through the windows, it was a brackish heat you had been getting all too used to. You’d met Billy, Sharon and Abel in Salt lake city at a gig, and now you were pleasantly stuck with them for the rest of summer. The drive from Salt lake city to Oregon was long, even longer in Sharon’s dads Buick which hadn’t seen the inside of a mechanic’s since 71’. The three of them had been working at Camp Woodrow each summer since they were, what was it? 15? Somehow they’d managed to persuade you to pack up your whole new life of groupie love and tour buses into a beat up Buick, taking the scenic route up to Oregon for a long, stagnant summer of campfires and controlled water sports, organised fun. You’d made the mistake of mentioning to Sharon you had lifeguard training; there and then it’d been decided you’d be the perfect replacement for their good friend Woody, who usually took the role of Lifeguard in camp, he was off in L.A, having made a name for himself in adult film. It was a long story you’d heard each salacious detail of. 

It’d been a total coincidence, meeting the three of them. You’d let some girlfriends drag you to a gig in a shifty basement venue (Billies band’s place (who weren’t nearly the legendary group they thought they were)) and had been… charmed by Billy… You’d fucked, he was just okay at it but he was easy on the eyes, knew a good dealer and it was cool to tell people you were fucking a hotshot ‘rock star’, even if he was less than generous in the bedroom. Soon you were fast friends with the whole group of them, groupies and all. So here you were, head in Billies lap, high off the broken sun on your face and second hand smoke, his hand drumming along to Doug Fieger’s voice on your bare stomach. You’d hitched a ride in Sharon’s dad’s car with her, Billy and her ‘it's complicated’ Abel.

“Are we there yet?”

Billy coughed through a cloud of smoke, yellow tinted sunglasses making him look all the pretentious rocker he wished he was. 

“Can you open a fucking window, do you know how hard it is to get that smell out these seats?”

Sharon said through agonising chomps of that wad of gum she’d had in her mouth since they’d driven through Boise. Billy cranked open the window. The hideous thrum of wind on the highway beating through the static air of the car. Your hair whipped around furiously and you sat up, stirred from the holy-half-high state. 

“Happy?” Billy said over the obnoxious sound of the engine and the wind. Sharon scoffed loudly over the sound. “I asked when are we going to fucking be there.” He spluttered yet again over his joint, smirking at you while he complained like a child to a very frustrated Sharon. “It’s just down the next turn,” He said, looking at the map in Abel’s lap, he was more focused on the magazine in his hands, you peaked over his shoulder, a sexy nun, the big, hot pink letters ‘TEASE’ haloing the cover.  

“We’re lost,” Billy hit his head back against the window, gosh he could really be a baby sometimes, you remarked internally, increasingly tired of the whole ‘Billy’ thing, a sticky situation you’d gotten into. The car broke into complaints, Sharon, searching frantically for the inconspicuous turning and little wooden sign to Camp Woodrow, stationed at the mouth of lake Calgonie. They’d eagerly shown you their collection of polaroids from the camp in the first few hours of the drive. It was exactly as you’d imagined, a classic all-American summer camp, straight from a gnarly slasher flick. 

“Motherfucker!” Sharon retaliated triumphantly as she manoeuvred the cranky old Buick down the sharp dirt road turning Camp Woodrow 500 yards. Bullseye. The road was almost too narrow, lined with unruly trees, leading up to the clearing in the dense foliage. Billy threw his joint out the window, stretching so his shirt rode up, showing off that lean torso that he was so damn proud of, flashing you a movie star grin. You tucked your hair behind your ears, putting your chuck taylor’s back on after the drive. You knew you all stunk of weed and BO.

 The car came to a pained, screeching halt in a makeshift parking lot. There were two cars parked in the other ‘spaces’, you noticed a blue Ford F-100 pick up, covered in mud and dust, your dad had one of those. Sharon let out a suggestive moan as she stretched, slamming the door behind her so hard you thought it might fall off. You all followed after her, Billy’s arm over your shoulder proudly, as if he was the one who’d just driven for 10 hours instead of whining the entire drive. You told yourself to just get over it, the summer was too long and too hot to hold onto this strange resentment you’d been harbouring for him as of late.

“Hey Abel! Sharon!” You heard from behind you, spotting a man you hadn’t seen before. He was shorter and well built, had a groomed moustache and lustrous black curls. “Tommy!” Sharon squealed, The pair embraced. You took the chance to get acquainted with your surroundings, turning away from the reunion to the woods behind you. Beautiful, it really was. You were a city kid, a suburban mole, so any chance at kindling some kind of a relationship with nature had you jumping at the opportunity, even if it meant dealing with children - Billy included. Trees as far as you could see, as high as you could see, the air clearer than you’d known it in the weeks you’d spent with these stoners.

“You remember Billy,” Abel said to Tommy, motioning to the boy next to you, who waved in his wanton fashion; too cool to put any effort into something as taxing as a wave. “Of course,” Tommy put his hands on his hips, it was hard to forget Billy. “And who’s the lady?” Tommy grinned, sauntering over, offering his hand to shake. Before you could introduce yourself, Sharon did it for you, telling him your name, which he repeated to himself. “She’s Woody’s replacement… lifeguard.” Sharon added, showing you off like an action figure. You fiddled with the hem of your denim shorts absentmindedly. “Ahh, lifeguard,” He had a firm handshake, making polite eye contact, you knew you’d get along with him. “It’s so nice to meet you, I’m super excited to get started.” You said warmly, the words falling from your mouth in something like a croak, you realised you’d hardly spoken for the entire drive, absorbed in tireless thought. Tommy clapped his hands together and turned to Abel and Sharon, then back to you and Billy.

“Well the kids are coming tomorrow, so, should give y’all time to settle,” He gave a little talk, friendly, he was what a camp manager should be, what you expected him to be. It immediately settled you, but the dead weight of Billy’s arm on your shoulders, tying you to him, was a constant jarring reminder of the mess you’d got yourself into with him.

The path to the camp staff cabins was a pretty one, scenic, you listened to your own steady breaths merging with the sounds of the forests. Billy walked ahead of you, his own suitcase swinging as him and Abel laughed their way into their own cabin. Separated by gender, convenient for yourself. Sharon lit a cigarette and grabbed the bottom bunk. You guessed it was so she could sneak Abel in and fuck him a little less conspicuously.

You sat on the top bunk, staring up at the damp ceiling, smoking a cigarette and listening to Sharon tuning a little radio, she cursed over the static.

In the evening you and Sharon decided to take a walk, leaving the boys to turn their cabin into a gas chamber, the forest stunk of them. “C’mon Lifeguard,” Sharon taunted, grinning at you through her cherry chapstick-ed lips. You took it all in, the forest, which opened up to Lake Calgonie.

“Holy shit,” You breathed as you stepped out onto the dock, the sun was setting over the trees, casting a vibrant orange hue over the lake. Your trance was broken by the click of Sharon’s Polaroid camera, the whir of the picture being processed. “It’s something, huh?” She nodded, somewhat proud of the landscape. “This is-” You started, unsure of the right word for how you felt, a little stoned from earlier, weary from the drive, muscles aching, brain heaving from the whole Billy thing, in complete awe of the situation you were in, impossibly, fucking happy. “Is it deep?” You turned to her, realising she was taking a picture of you. Click, Whirrrrr.

She fanned the two polaroids for a bit, tucking them in her bra, a trick she’d giggled about a few weeks ago. “Yeah, gets pretty deep in the middle,” She shrugged, more absorbed in the development of the polaroids she’d taken of you. She noticed the curious, awe-struck look on your face.

By the time you and Sharon returned to the camp the fire was blazing, crackling pleasantly, Billy, Abel, Tommy and an older lady. “Now, I know it wasn’t you two dumbasses who got the fire started,” Sharon landed the playful jab as she planted herself on Abel's lap, announcing her arrival the way she always did, her laugh echoing through the forest. Billy shuffled up to make space for you on the log, his arm around you in seconds, you were sure that that fucking arm would break your damn shoulder soon from how much he rested there. 

“Hey where’s Joel?” Billy asked suddenly. You were only half listening, now the fully developed polaroids were being flashed at you; it was you looking over your shoulder in candid surprise, engulfed in the flashlight and the rich sunset from behind, like a deer in the headlights. “Well what’s he doing in his cabin?” Billy said loudly with a cocky chuckle.

You tuned him out, letting your brain run away with itself, watching as the older woman examined the polaroid that Sharon was passing around for admiration. “Beautiful ain’t she,” Sharon quipped, shooting you a playful wink as she peered over the older woman’s shoulder at your picture. Tommy poked at the fire, blowing at it expertly, so this was the country man. “Oh, this is Lou by the way,” Tommy nodded towards the bright eyed older woman, “She’s one of our senior camp leaders, and our chef,” He said with a tight smile towards you, clearly the introduction was pointed. It was dark now, the faces of your friends and acquaintances lit up by firelight, illuminated in the orange. 

“Hey I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” You whispered to Billy, waiting for him to direct you. “It's between the weird tree, with all the branches, remember? and the bigger Cabins, showers there too.”

It was the first time you’d been alone for a couple days. As much as you were charmed by your fast friends, a long lonesome walk to the john was very much needed. Abel’s lighter, you'd borrowed one night from his coat pocket, clicked to life in your hand, the small flame lapping at the cherry end of your cigarette as it hung between your lips. You walked slowly to prolong your time alone, admiring the trees, listening to the forest by night and the gentle padding of your sneakers across the dirt.

After relieving yourself in the makeshift hut you wondered if you could even call a ‘bathroom’, you wandered as slowly as possible down the path, blowing plumes of smoke into the still night, feeling the trees sigh around you. You imagined what your parents were doing right now, sitting in their condo in Cedar city, probably off to bed. You rarely thought of them anymore. 

You were brought to a standstill by one of the larger cabins, you took a drag of your cigarette and stood watching the window. You suddenly felt like a complete peeping tom; a man appeared in the window, not a man, a wife-beater clad god. He paced up to the edge of the room, giving you time to properly take him in; a quality of moustache you’d only seen in porn flicks, a soft, yet muscular torso, paired with arms that looked like they could snap Billy in two. You let the cover of nightfall mask the growing warmth on your cheeks. He stretched, wife beater riding up to reveal the unruly outline of a happy trail. Jesus christ. He was older, that was obvious enough, late forties? early fifties? You tucked your lips into a thin line, gazing at him, feeling like one of the fucking creeps you so often complained about and really not caring.

“Who is that guy?” You mused to Sharon back in the cabin, as she went through her skincare regiment in the janky little mirror, your limbs draped down from the top bunk like a fancy throw rug. “What guy?” She said, the tube of moisturiser taking up her full attention. “I ran into this guy when I went to pee? Moustache, in his forties, maybe fifties?.” You were like a teenager again, batting your eyelashes up at the ceiling. “Joel?” She cooed, turning to face you abruptly, clearly she had the same idea, you’d pulled her attention now. “You met Joel?” She seemed very impressed by this, but met was a strong word, you’d watched him in his cabin for a minute or so. You suddenly felt like this was something you shouldn’t have done, for whatever reason, maybe it was that sultry look in her eye all of a sudden, the accusatory tone in her pouty mouth. “Mhmm” You hummed warily, sitting up to look down at her from the top bunk. She scoffed, massaging her skin “Joel’s Tommy’s big brother, he runs the camp with him, total hunk right?” She teased. It made sense, Joel had looked like his brother, taller you thought, a little rougher around the edges. “How come he wasn’t at the fire?” You pictured him in his cabin, all alone. You now remembered Billy asking for him earlier. “He’s not the biggest fan of um, Billy and Abel, caught them sneaking in these girls, y’know, getting high a couple years ago, but they were like 17, like he’s had it out for them for a while.” This story didn’t come as a surprise, you imagined a young Billy and Abel getting caught smoking pot with girls by the lake. “It’s really only thanks to Tommy that we were allowed back, Joel would’ve gotten rid of them a while ago, wouldn’t’ve been outta line to either,” Sharon rambled on, all you could think about were those broad shoulders, the curve of his aquiline nose, it was a perverted stereotype you didn’t mind filling, young girl absolutely taken by an older man she most definitely could not have. “It’s a shame, he’s so fucking hot,” Sharon said as she pursed her lips, applying a healthy amount of lip balm to her pout. 

Camp LIFEGUARD t-shirt on, little red running shorts that covered next to nothing, chuck taylors to match, another pair of Billies big brown sunglasses on your nose, you were every bit the summer camp lifeguard. Tommy had your lifeguard certificate and paperwork, breakfast had been a breeze, it was all ready. The kids were arriving in the afternoon, so you had the morning to scope the place out alone, leaving Sharon with the guys and taking the path to the lake.

The lake was invigorating as you dipped your toe through the strangely still surface, chuck taylor’s, socks, shirt, glasses and the little metal whistle all bundled into a polite little pile on the edge of the dock. You sat down, taking a deep breath and splashing your feet gently in the water, the tiny ripples lapping back at your calves. It truly did feel like a movie to you, clad in that red, lifeguard swimsuit, hopefully catching some sun.

The morning was pleasant, if a little humid. As warm as it gets in the pacific northwest, you basked in the quiet of the lake, sliding slowly into the water. It was eerily calm after the recent chaos that had become your beloved life. 

You hadn’t swam leisurely in a while, not in a lake for even longer. You avoided the silty bottom by pushing off immediately to the middle, planning to test just how deep this lake was. It was strangely clear, you could see the bottom for a while, but as you swam out, below you it was just your flailing limbs treading in the dark blue. The hum of a boat engine broke the trance you’d been under all morning, snapping into consciousness as a small speedboat made its way around the lake, right up close to where you were treading water. You hadn’t seen it from the dock, hadn't noticed any waves.

 It came to a quick halt, splashing water in your face. “Motherfucker” You spluttered as you spat out lake water. You wiped your eyes and shielded them from the sun to see who this obnoxious, nautical asshole was. He looked down at you, crouching, silhouetted by the sun. 

“You shouldn’t be swimming without a lifeguard.” As your eyes adjusted to the bright light you identified the asshole: Joel, your blood ran colder than it already was. You could see him better now, dark glasses on, those sun kissed forearms, his slightly sun bleached STAFF t-shirt, that low, southern voice still unbearably charming, pouring over you like molasses even when he was being cold.

You realised you were staring and looked to your left at the dock. “Sorry, sir,” You started, hoping he’d appreciate the formality, “I am the lifeguard,” You grinned up at him with a saccharine bat of your eyelashes, really trying to appeal to the sexiest man you’d ever seen. He was still staring down at you in the water, sunglasses giving away nothing.

He let out a short scoff, obviously not amused. “Well what happens when you drown?” He said coldly, he did not seem at all charmed by that killer grin you flaunted so well, so you let it drop ever so slightly. Maybe you couldn’t kill him with kindness? “No lifeguard out to save your ass,” He looked down at you pointedly, still crouched beside you like you would’ve done with a kid that dived in a no dive pool. 

“I’m a strong swimmer.” You cocked your head, he scoffed again, shaking his head in casual disbelief. You were too absorbed in working out whether he looked more like Burt Reynolds or Tom Selleck. “I don't care how strong’a swimmer you are, missy,” He retaliated quickly, your lips parted in slight surprise, you weren’t used to people being even slightly unpleasant to you, thanks to your people pleasing.

“I'm sorry?” You said in the wake of your surprise.

“Look, lifeguard, I’m gonna ask you to strongly swim back to the dock right about fuckin’ now,” He stood up to his full height chuckling at you in that southern baritone, again darkened to a silhouette by the sun. You remembered how good his muscular body looked in that wife beater, his goddamn broad shoulders, then pushed the thoughts from your brain, it was fucking embarrassing, you batting your eyelashes and grinning at him like he wasn’t reprimanding you.

After hastily making your way back to camp, a complete state, your cheeks annoyingly hot with embarrassment and a sinking feeling that you could only call ‘horny’, you caught up with the rest of the guys. They’d somehow got the radio set up and were sitting around it outside the boy’s cabin like moths to a light, Buffalo Springfield was playing softly, the sound slightly subdued, broken by static every so often.

You leant on the wall beside them, trying to collect yourself after whatever the fuck that was. “How's the water temp, sugar,” Billy landed a light slap on your ass. You couldn't even look at them, afraid to see your own flushed reflection in their tinted sunglasses. “Tepid.” You heard yourself say absentmindedly. You knew two things for sure, Joel was an enigmatic pain in your ass; another to add to the ever growing list. The other, he had you wrapped around his little finger, you hated yourself for it, but hated him more. “I need a dart,” You sighed, keeping your eyes on your feet as Billy lit your cigarette.

The kids arrived intermittently once Abels casio read 15:00, hoards of them, and quickly. Bumbling groups of girls and boys, completely feral. You silently thanked god that all you'd be doing was watching them, making sure none of their little heads stayed underwater for too long, leaving the morale-boosting, camp spirit stuff to your friends and the other staff. Luckily no water sports on the first day, so you were free to lounge around without worrying about some kid dying on your watch.

You sort of wished you had a way to get your mind off the whole Joel thing, it really shouldn't have gotten to you as much as it had. But there was something about the whole thing, something simply despotic about the way he looked down at you, ordering you about, it fucking jarred you all afternoon, distracting you even from Billy’s hand on your ass.

The next time you saw Joel that day he was with a few kids, a couple suitcases tossed over his shoulders, a big grin on his face as he spoke to them, it wasn't mocking, wasn't charged with some quick-witted comment that he’d make sure really stung, it was paternal, sweet. You don’t know why you thought he’d be cold to everyone.

Damn kids didn't know how good they had it as he made them laugh, beaming with child-like enthusiasm. “Who’s that?” You asked Billy quickly, as if you didn't know full well who that was, as if he hadn't been the only thing on your frazzled, embarrassed mind. Billy scoffed, watching Joel just as intently as you had been. “That’s Joel Miller,” he said that name with more passion than you’d ever heard him put into anything, “Him and I don’t get along so well, sweets,” He nodded, you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes at these pet names he’d been experimenting with. You tuned out the rest of Billy’s moaning, regretting even asking him, the phrases ‘Grade A asshole’ and ‘hypocrite’ were tossed around quite senselessly. 

You needed a shower, everyone did but you weren't going to be the one to tell them that. With a crispy towel in hand and Sharon's flip flops you haphazardly made your way through the dark forest, the kids all in their cabins, staff eating round the campfire. Sharon said she'd meet you there in 20, at least one other person in this damn place knew when they needed a shower. The shower shack was something you’d have to get used to. Even in the abysmal water pressure, even with the ceiling completely caked in cobwebs occupied by creatures you really did not like the look of, the hot water was balm. It washed the smell of the lake off of you, and the dizzying BO you’d gotten used to in the last few days, cleaned off that lingering scent of pot from your skin.

You sang quietly to yourself, an Elvis song that'd been stuck in your head all week. “Your kisses lift me higher,” you scrubbed yourself with the ratty bar of soap you’d found in Sharon's wash bag, the song falling out of you at an increasingly enthusiastic pace, volume rising as you let the water infiltrate your scalp.

“I just might turn into smoke but i feel fine,” Billy was not an Elvis fan, never had been, but that didn't stop you from humming along every time he entered your brain. You heard another shower start and Sharon getting in, not for one second stopping the music falling out of you. You weren't a particularly gifted singer, but in the shower that never mattered. After singing the song countless times you turned off the water. “Just a hunk’a burnin love,” You hummed, the cool night air causing your skin to goose pimple, your nipples to harden as you wrapped your body in the itchy little towel that really didn't do much to cover you up. 

You lit a cigarette as you stepped out, deciding to wait for Sharon outside the showers as she’d instructed earlier, admiring your reflection in the clouded mirror, wiping them clear. “Hurry up, fuckin’ cow,” You chuckled, raising your voice over the sound of the shower that was still going. Like a spell, it stopped, for once she was feeling nice.

"‘Bout time,” You giggled as you combed through your hair with your fingers, cigarette hanging precariously from your lips. You didn’t look away from your reflection as you grabbed your toothbrush from the pocket of your shorts which lay in a little discarded pile beside the sinks. “It's like being at The Westgate, Las Vegas,” The familiar voice chuckled, that condescending comment about your spectacular rendition of Elvis’ ‘burning love’ going right over your head in favour of utter shock and realisation, which hit like a ten ton truck.

You practically spun on your heels to see a smirking Joel Miller shirtless, a towel slung carelessly around his hips. The wind was knocked out of you as you let your eyes linger on his torso, just how fucking built he was, beaded with water, his chest sprinkled with hair matching that on his face. Holy shit. 

You looked back at yourself in the mirror, hugging the towel tighter to your body, scooping up the toothpaste you’d jetted all over the sink from squeezing the tube in your state of shock. Holy shit holy shit holy shit. “Thought you were Sharon,” You said shakily to the sink as you washed the toothpaste from your fingers, your voice now lacking the confidence it’d possessed when you called Joel Miller a ‘fucking cow’. You felt like slamming your head through the mirror right about now, not daring to check if the heat that had spread across your cheeks was visible. “Thought you were Elvis,” He quipped, ever the witty bastard, pulling out a small razor and some shaving foam, clearly he was planning on staying. 

You took a drag of your cigarette to pull yourself back to earth. “You make a habit of sneaking up on girls in the shower?” You heard yourself say, like your mind hadn’t turned into that of a perverted teenage boy after you saw him last night.

“Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart,” So he knew he was hot shit, standing there more naked than you were comfortable with in that moment, that towel doing very little to distract you from the fact he was right there, all of him, rubbing shaving foam on his jaw. “You're too old to be talking like that,” you said coldly through your dead-pan, the biting words lacking the fire you intended for them. He chuckled slightly, his low voice almost a growl, reverberating through you as you attempted to squeeze your toothpaste onto the toothbrush without making another mess.  “Definitely Billy’s girl,” He said to himself as he held his razor up to the light.

Now that was too far, you turned your face to him, lips parted into a half-hearted scowl as you watched a couple droplets fall from his hair, you held on to the little towel for dear life. “What's that supposed to mean,” You shook your head in disbelief, that had truly been a low blow. “Well you are ain’ch’ya?” He shrugged, bringing the razor to his cheek, you said a silent prayer to god that his hand would slip. “No,” You said after a moment's hesitation. Billy wasn’t your guy and you certainly weren't his girl, he was a friend you sometimes, reluctantly let hump you until he finished. “He know that?” Joel scoffed, suddenly very talkative, you hadn't expected that from the authoritarian asshole who’d scolded you this morning, now a scintillating asshole. “Seemed awful comfy this even-” You cut him off quickly. “It's none of your business Joel,” you snapped, turning back to look at your glassy reflection.

This man would be the death of you; all of this, and now another mouth to ask you about Billy. “Billy’s a prick,” Joel said casually as he shaved his face, it almost startled you, the first thing you agreed with him about. “Aren't you perceptive?” The sarcasm rolled out of you, prompting another of those short, patronising chuckles from Joel.

“What's the appeal then?” It was a good point, why did you hang around with Billy when you could admit that the kid was a complete dickwad. Was it those looks? the way people seemed to gravitate towards his obnoxious laughter? It was all embarrassingly shallow.

“We hang in the same circles,” You shrugged, now completely absorbed by watching Joel shaving so expertly, still hoping your prayer would be answered. “Is he a good fuck?” Joel asked brazenly, not looking away from his own cold expression in the mirror as he cleaned up his moustache, your breath caught in your throat and you stamped out your cigarette on your ratty sneakers to disguise your prudish shock.

The answer was no, a dead no, no matter how much he thought he was. “And there's another thing that's absolutely none of your business,” You began brushing your teeth, glancing at him to see the telling smirk on his lips, that was all he needed to know. 

After a much needed break in the conversation you spat out the toothpaste, holding your hair back and running the tap. You turned to leave with the pile of clothes in your arms, you’d rather’ve taken the short journey to your cabin in the little towel than spend another damn second in that room with Joel fucking Miller. “Hey, kiddo,” Joel interjected casually, you turned to look at him with an obedience that made you sick.

“Next time you find yourself peepin’ on me in my cabin, just knock on the door.” 

You huffed an exasperated, short breath as you slammed the door to the cabin behind you, happy that Sharon was nowhere to be seen. You changed, cursing Joel under your breath over and over and over again as you pulled one of Billy’s ‘Supertramp’ t-shirts over your wet head of hair. That motherfucker! Where could you even start?

He’d seen you watching him. He’d known all day that you stood in the treeline in the unassuming disguise of nightfall, smoking as you’d watched him get ready for bed. He’d called you ‘kiddo’?! you groaned as you curled yourself into the quilt on your top bunk.

You guessed that Sharon was banging Abel in the next cabin, Billy had probably passed out from a long day of doing absolutely nothing. No matter what you thought about to get your mind off Joel; the image of him shirtless and dripping wet, his quick retaliations, nothing helped. You counted sheep, sang ‘Burning love’ a couple more times through, the shame just didn't wear off. He’d gotten the better of you today, catching you out at all the right moments, embarrassing you over and over again.

Finally, after stalling what you knew would be your only relief after a day like this, you let your hand venture under your panties, touching yourself gently at first, ego too bruised to allow yourself what you really wanted. Soon you were practically crying his name into your pillow, back arching desperately. You’d broken into a slight sweat, lips parting quiet ecstasy as relief washed over you. 

You made the decision then and there, it was sink or swim, you weren't going to let today happen again, not let your epic, man-eating reputation be stamped into the dirt  by some old washed-up cowboy with an ego for days and some strange Tom-Selleck-esque power over you.

You were going to become Joel Miller's worst fucking nightmare. 

PART 2

[landohasnorizzx3]

Horoscopes and lazy mornings (ln x reader)

Warnings: none

Summary: Lando and reader have a lazy morning in bed and Lando definitely knows how to interpret horoscopes.

Author‘s note: my first fic ever omggg!! I’m so sorry if this is bad and if I didn’t write it the way you wanted it, I know I left the part with the race out because I really didn’t know what to write there 🥲 and I am almost sure I don’t understand how horoscopes work @spookystitchery thank you again for the request.

(Reader is a Scorpio btw)

Monaco, 04.24.2024

The gentle strokes of the sun grazing over her bare skin made her stir slightly in her sleep and open her tired eyes.

She squinted her eyes slightly when they were met with the bright light shining through the curtains. She let out a small yawn and turned around in the hold of her boyfriend of three years. He was still in deep sleep, his curls messy, eyes shut and one arm lazily thrown around her waist.

She brought one hand up to his forehead to gently push some stray curls out of his face. She took his beauty in for another moment before he also opened his eyes slowly.

He stretched and yawned while flexing his arm muscles and tightening his grip around her waist. She smiled at him nuzzling his face into her neck and mumbling a husky „good morning“. She returned the greeting and buried her hand in his curls to massage his skull, hearing small grunts of satisfaction from him.

„Don’t you wanna get up lan?“ she asked him slightly amused. „No it’s way to early let’s sleep some more“ he groaned into her neck. „Baby it’s 1 p.m“ she grinned at him, feeling his warm breath sending shivers down her spine.

They had just gotten back from China the afternoon on the day before and were so jet lagged that they fell straight into bed. „Lan you’ve got to let me go to the bathroom at least“, she asked. „You’ll hurry though, right?“, he argued. „Sure“ she assured him and with another disapproving groan he actually let her go.

By the time she came back she found him a bit more straightened up, half sitting half lying on the bed scrolling on his phone. She crawled under the blanket again and laid her head on his shoulder, also opening her phone. Her first priority in the morning always was to check the horoscope for the day.

Lando didn’t really believe in horoscopes, but he knew it was important to y/n so he would never make seriously fun of her for it. „And what does is say today?“ „it says we should take time for our selves and the things we want to accomplish and we should be kind to ourselves“, she read out loud.

„Perfect, we wanted to spend the day being lazy in bed anyway“, he sighed contently and placed his phone back on the night stand to sneak his hands back around her waist.

„I don’t think that’s what it wanted to tell us but alright“, she told him with a playful eye roll. „I think that’s exactly what it wanted to tell us“, he answered and pulled her closer into his embrace. They spent the rest of the day cuddling and watching Netflix.

[fishii-writes]

flower crowns - osamu dazai

paring: dazai x fem!reader

cw: established relationship, reader wears a dress, dazai calls reader "bella" as in bella-donna, really just pure fluff

a/n: first fic... i hope whoever reads this likes it, please let me know if i made any mistakes! enjoy :) also i wrote this some time ago, for one of my mutual's writing event, but they deactivated their account so i'm posting this anyways. happy birthday to the silly!!

word count: 849

Your breath hitches for a moment, using your nails to make a thin slit in the stem. Carefully, you slide another stem through the slit one, and repeat for a few more. There you have it, fully made of white flowers. Now, you just have to wait for your dearest to come to arrive so that the real fun can start.

For some context, you’ve noticed your lover has been really stressed lately, and wanted to do something nice for him. But you know he’d never tell you, he would just go on about his day until he can think alone at night. Thus, you left early in the morning and left a note on your bedside table, reading;

“Good morning, my love. Want to know where I am? Check my location. Also, remember to wear something light coloured, if you want to match! :)”

Now, you’re in the middle of a field of daisies and dandelions, wearing a light yellow frilly-sleeved dress that falls down to just above your ankles. Much like your surroundings, it has little white flowers peppered all over the skirt of it. The bodice of the dress fits your waist, and has a thin white belt with a white flower on it, to match. It shouldn’t be too long until he finds you, knowing he would get curious quickly.

A soft sigh escapes your lips, as you wonder what has him so stressed. Not a moment goes by, even if you’re not actively thinking, that you can’t wait to see him. And as if the universe had heard you, a car pulls up to the far side of the flower field, on the road of the highway. Well, not really a highway, more like a road that’s not in the city and it’s rarely crowded.

And that car is Dazai’s. He locks the car, then jumps over the flimsy fence. 

“Bellaaaa, how could you leave meeeee~” he whines, running closer to you as you walk towards him.

The moment he gets close enough, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him. You can’t muffle your giggles as he kisses all over your face and neck, smiling against your neck when he stops.

“So, what is all this?” he asks, pulling his lips away from your neck, but keeping his arms around your waist.

“Well, you could call it a date,” you trail off when you notice his shirt. A soft smile forms on your lips as you realise his shirt matched the exact colour of your dress. The shirt is plain, with a slightly darker coloured collar and end of the short sleeves. You’re snapped out of your thoughts by the slightly mocking voice of your lover.

“Love, you’re staring.” he teases, getting an eye roll from you.

“Oh, sorry, I was just confused as to how you knew what shirt to wear. Y’know, the one we bought that specifically matched this dress.” 

A soft smile forms on his lips as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head. He always knew how to divert the conversation, as he does in this one.

“Lets just say I checked your closet and the dress you’re wearing now was missing so I guessed you were wearing it and wore this one, in hopes to match.” he chuckles, watching your expression change to a slightly shocked one. He really did go out of his way to make sure you two match, just like you asked. Your shock doesn’t last for long, it becomes a giggle.

“Hm? What’s so funny, bella-donna?” he asks, keeping one arm wrapped around your waist as he uses his other hand to fix your hair. He watches as you keep giggling, the way your eyes close and a faint pink hue dusts your cheeks. One word he would use to describe you was most definitely beautiful. For the other, a word anyone else could use to describe him could be smitten, or even mesmerised. 

“Eh, nothing. Enough of that, I have something to show you!” you pull away from his hug, taking his hand as you lead him to where you were making little flower creations. He slightly tilts his head, watching you lean down to grab something, then stand back up. You gesture for him to lean down a bit, he does as you instruct. You carefully place the flowers on his head, then let him stand back up.

“What is it?” he asks, adjusting it on the crown of his head. You smile in response, taking another one and placing it on your own head.

“A flower crown! I made a few earlier, so we can match!” 

If you ask him, your eyes were almost sparkling. In such admiration, no words are exchanged, just a gesture. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your lips. It catches you by surprise, but who would resist a kiss from him? Your star-eyed boyfriend. And if you look closely, his eyes only glimmer when you’re around. You kiss him back, a smile unable to keep itself off your lips.

taglist: @jomamaofficial , @xansposts

likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated!! <3

© fishii-writes 2024

[biilodyfangs]

fight club/soapshipping headcanons i found in fics that i like + my own headcanons :p

TYLER

middle child tyler ♡

rarely talks about his siblings and his mother but when he does the narrator truly appreciates it and listens carefully

used petnames as a joke a couple of times then started using them seriously

probably got into a fight on twitter once just for fun but got bored easily

unironically watches youtube videos/tiktoks of people making soap

sometimes he forgets he even has a phone

tries different soap scents. loves the ones that smell like coffee

expresses love through actions. he made a soap specifically for the narrator with a scent he ONCE vaguely said he liked

sees something dangerous to do and says "you dare me?" then proceeds to do it even if no one dares him

likes the smell of gasoline

he loves to lean on the narrator's shoulder when they are standing for a long time, when they are sitting at a bar or when they are lying in bed and the narrator is reading a magazine

made the narrator REALLY mad during sex once and realized he loved it

feeds stray cats and dogs

NARRATOR

territorial, WILL bite tyler, 0 hesitation (tyler laughs and bites back)

aroace spectrum

sneaks into the movie theater in hope that a boring movie will help him sleep. he brings tyler with him sometimes but tyler ends up actually liking the movies and talking about them on their way home

melatonin gummies do not help him but he likes them so he eats them anyway

ended up trying marla's dress seriously and he kinda liked it but he never wore it again

"i probably have 3 different mental disorders but tyler needs me to make soap so it's not important right now"

"tyler we are NOT blowing up ikea...we can break a few things tho"

"this edible ain't shit" [ends up telling marla he actually really cares about her as a friend and he was jealous of her and tyler having sex]

skips fight club night just to piss tyler off when he's upset

rolls his eyes when tyler calls him "man" or "dude" like they aren't literally boyfriends (he actually finds it funny and smiles right after)

^ same with "psycho boy"

SOAPSHIPPING

first kiss probably happened during/after a fight

they have little couple fights in front of space monkeys and they're all freaking confused

never actually got together, it just kinda happened

during a fight marla yelled at them to go to couple therapy, they looked at each other and laughed

they kiss every morning and every time one of them has to leave the house

[beybaldes]

all I know of love is how to live without it

Eddie Roundtree × Fem!Reader

djats masterlist

word count: 1.9k

summary: Eddie's used to being second place, everywhere from the science projects he did in middle school to the one Camilla wouldn't choose. you show him that he's always your no.1.

Warning!! I have not read the book or the show!!! All info I have gathered has been from other x readers I have read. sorry in advance if I have butchered vour fav show/book because I have plainly made shit up in favour of satiating my own need for more eddie fics xoxo

"But the dude still wouldn't leave me alone, so I called Eddie over and was like 'I told you I have a boyfriend, see?' But he still didn't believe me, said he would've seen it in the tabloids if I was taken. Eddie got right in his face about it and then he finally left me alone." Graham laughed through every word you said, the two of you huddled in a corner of the room, it pack with so many people that if you'd wanted to move it would've been hard anyway. When he'd first found you about an hour ago, you'd told him to carry on in his travels, quite content to stand alone and people watch, but Graham insisted, not wanting to leave you alone in the crowd.

"Where is Eddie?" He asked, eyes scanning around the room in search of your partner in crime. Now that you'd thought about it, you'd not seen him in a while - he'd said he was going to grab himself another drink and then seemingly disappeared. "I don't think I've seen him since we got here."

"Yeah, me either." You scanned your eyes across the room once more, not seeing his tufts of blonde hair anywhere. "I'm gonna go look for him, if that's okay."

"You know it is." Graham assured you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side, leaning down so you could hear his next words better over the commotion. "I'm gonna get another drink, come find me if you can't find him."

With a nod, you left the brunettes side, beginning your search for the blonde who you were 80% was crashed on a couch somewhere.

3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms and 6 laps of the main room later you still hadn't found him. You'd bumped into Graham twice who told you to give up on your search and enjoy your evening, and the rest of the members of the six at least once - spare Eddie himself.

In your attempt to scan through the room once more, you walked straight into Camilla, grabbing her by her elbow to make sure she didn't fall over at your sudden connection. "Cami, I'm so sorry I didn't see you."

"It's okay, y/n, don't worry about it."

"You okay?" You asked, noticing a slight sniffle to Camilla's words. Billy could be a dick, so you wouldn't be surprised if he'd said something to her that he really shouldn't have. The words didn't need to be said out loud, a silent conversation shared between the two of you in a matter of seconds between your eyes alone.

You pulled her in for a brief hug, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Don't let it ruin your night. You look hot as shit." Camilla broke into a smile at your words, whatever she had been worked up over melting from her features in an instant. "Go. Have fun. Get drunk. Who cares."

Camilla pulled you in for the hug this time, though only briefly, allowing you to pull away when you whispered a promise to find, and do shots with her, when you'd found what you were looking for.

As Camilla walked past you, you noticed a door behind where she'd stood that you hadn't seen before, leading out onto the balcony - promising to yourself that if Eddie wasn't here, you'd just get on with your night and question him about it the next morning.

Thankfully, the man of the hour was on the other side of the door, his forearms resting on the balcony's fence as he looked out over the city "You!" You cheered, steeping down onto the balcony and approaching Eddie where he stood at its far end, his eyes downcast and a half-assed smile on his face. "I have been looking everywhere for you! You said you were going to get a drink and you disappeared on me! What happened?"

You planted your arms firmly on the railing next to him, leaning down and forward to get a good look at his face which haven't moved since you'd come out to the balcony. Eddie's dejected expression had you freezing, realising the joyful disposition you'd entered the scene with may have not been entirely appropriate.

"Ed's." You reached out a hand for his arm, finally gaining his attention, though his eyes still head a far off look to them. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm fine." He immediately deflected, though the fact that his eyes still couldn't meet yours told you otherwise. "Really."

"I don't believe you." You bent at the knee, tilting your head and trying to get a better look at his face once more. "What happened, Ed's."

It wasn't a question this time; a gentle command for him to talk about, share what was on his mind. A problem shared is a problem halved was a saying you'd been raised on, and you weren't going to falter on that sentiment now.

"I'm fine." That wasn't what you'd asked. "Just go back inside I'll be back in in a minute."

"Eddie." Turning to face him entirely, you leant your side against the railing, one arm on top of it and one reaching out for his hand. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

Eddie still didn't answer you, his jaw locking and his hands gripping the railing tighter as he stared out at the city believe you.

"We don't have to talk about it." You whispered, moving closer to him as you spoke, the music from inside seeping out onto the balcony at its deafening volume. "But I'm here if you decide you want to, if you need someone to listen."

"You'll be there for me?" You couldn't tell what cogs were turning in Eddie's head, what motivated him to finally speak up and ask such a question, but you were glad he was talking. That was a step in the right direction, into finding out what upset him so much.

"Yeah." You answered honestly, no strings attached or conditions to your words. "Always, Ed's."

That seemed to be enough for Eddie for the moment, and you didn't plan on pushing him to talk about it, so you took the opportunity to slip back inside. Running from the balcony door and into the kitchen, you picked up two bottles of beer and ran straight back, not wanting to leave Eddie alone for too long now that he'd began to open up about whatever was bothering him.

"You're back?" Eddie asked when he heard the door creaking open. "What about the party?"

"Everyone else can wait." You answered, offering him one of the beers you'd grabbed cautiously, like he was a wounded animal you were afraid to startle. "You need me. That's all that matters now."

Though Eddie wasn't in the mood for smiling, he could feel one trying to curl onto his lips. He revelled in the quiet shared between the two of you, thankful that you were willing to be patient with him, let him deal in his own time.

"You remember that science fair project we did in the 8th grade?" Eddie asked out of nowhere, breaking the peaceful silence that had settled between the two of you. You took another sip of your beer, turning to him with a confused look on your face. "What did you think of it?"

"Think it was stupid." You muttered, looking at the late night city lights as you thought back on something that felt like a whole other life ago. This where different then, you were different then, and you couldn't quite place when everything had changed. "It still keeps me up at night that Graham won and not us."

While it was definitely an over exaggeration, it elicited a laugh from Eddie - something you'd been hoping to achieve since the moment you'd noticed the crestfallen look on his face.

"It was only because he stole Billy's winning project from the year before too!" You whined, remembering the events more clearly now that Eddie had brought it up. "That cheeky little- I'm so gonna convince him he owe me $50 in the morning."

"What? Why?" Eddie asked, mind now focused on your confusing words more then Camilla breaking his heart.

"I don't know, reparations for the win we deserved or something. I'll split it with you, 30:20."

"Why am I getting $20? Why not $25 each?" Eddie whined, his full body now turned to face you, one arm supporting his weight against the railing while the other held his beer.

"No, no. You'd get the $30. I did jack shit in that project. You did all the hard work."

"Couldn't have done it without you though, y'know." Eddie said in complete earnest, some kind of realisation settling over him as the pair of you dwelled on the memory from a life time ago. It was weirdly poetic in a sense, how even back then, before the band and everything, you stood by his side when a Dunne was breaking his heart in some capacity, put the pieces back together even when he didn't ask you too - or tell you it's what he needed.

"Still can't do shit without out now." The words came out in a teasing way, but you could tell Eddie was trying to mask the sentimental value to them. The two of you had been two peas in a pod as long as you could remember, you could read him like a book even when he didn't want you too.

"You know you could." You teased right back, feeling comfortable enough to knock your shoulder against his now that the mood had shifted to a happier one. "You just don't want to."

"Yeah I don't think I do." Eddie let you rest your head on his shoulder, one of your arms wrapping around his bicep while the other wrapped around his forearm in a makeshift hug. "Don't think I ever do, birdie."

"There's my Eddie." You cooed, so casually that it sent Eddie brain whirring. He knew he was nowhere near ready to open up his heart again, but you'd already wriggled your way in so long ago that it felt natural. Something about being your Eddie was something he thought he could get used to, but that wasn't something he wanted to unpack today. "Come back inside."

"Since you asked so nicely." Your arms stayed wrapped around Eddie's as you re-entered the party, weaving your way through the crowd in search of Graham who you'd all but abandoned earlier. He was easy to find, towering over the crowds of people, and he kept himself in good company, introducing you to the group he'd surrounded himself with and you and Eddie finding conversation with them easy.

Though Eddie had a smile on his face that didn't quite reach his eye, his entire demeanour had changed since you first found him on the balcony, and that was enough for you.

The rest of the night went quickly, people coming and going from your group, but you, Eddie and Graham sticking together for the rest of the evening. Eddie added his own opinion to the conversation every now and then, but spent most of the night taking in the feeling of your arms around his; thinking about how he must have been someone good in his last life to deserve such an angel as you in this one.

[strawberriesinbloom]

Taking Lucifer Down a Peg (or Two)

MC/Lucifer

Summary: Lucifer's demon form was powerful, perfect, and poised. Was it really so bad that you wanted to see more of it?

Word Count: 2732

This fic is set in Nightbringer and based off of Mammon's NB Chapter A Devilgram. There shouldn't be too many spoilers besides the basic plot of Nightbringer (aka you're stuck in the past), and what I shared in the link.

This is a tickle fic btw

~🍓~

“I can’t believe the time,” you muttered, staring at your D.D.D. It was so late, much later than you planned to stay at the House of Lamentation. You pressed your lips together. Solomon was probably worried out of his mind.

Lucifer eyed you warily, slowing his pace down to keep up with your stride. “Yes, I apologize for keeping you here so late. I did not expect your duties to take so long.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. You would have been home a lot sooner if Satan hadn’t decided to trash the entire kitchen, which set off Beelzebub, who accidentally bumped into Mammon, who–

Ugh. You were getting a headache just thinking about it.

“It's fine,” you said, “It’s not that long of a trek back to Cocytus Hall, anyway.”

“No, it's too dangerous to travel by yourself at night. You should leave in the morning.”

You snorted, following Lucifer, as he walked up the stairs and away from the front door. “Did you forget that I’ve been in the Devildom much longer than you?” 

It wasn’t a lie. Technically.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow and gave you a look. “Then, consider this to be a selfish request,” he said, looking over at you with an amused glint in his eyes. “Would you consider spending the night here with me?”

Lucifer stopped in the middle of the hallway, his hand resting on the doorknob to his room. You almost bumped into him but stopped yourself just in time. He was awaiting a response from you. 

“My, my, sleeping in your room? That's a bit forward, isn't it?” You asked in a teasing tone. It didn't matter if it was the past or the present: you would never pass up the chance to poke fun at Lucifer.

A bit of pink dusted his cheeks. It was subtle, but it was there. “I was thinking that you would stay in the guest room, but my room works, as well,” he said quietly. 

He opened the door and stepped inside. You followed right behind him. “I think I'll sleep in your room. Your bed looks more comfortable, anyway.”

That was a lie. You knew from personal experience that his bed felt like sleeping on a brick, but those were the sacrifices you had to make to get some one-on-one time with this elusive demon.

Lucifer said, “I have a spare set of nightwear you can borrow and an unopened pack of toothbrushes you can choose from.”

“I can choose a toothbrush? Wow, I really am living the high life here.”

“Stop dawdling.”

“Alright, alright. I get it.”

Once you and Lucifer got ready for bed, you flopped down on his mattress and scooted over to the right side, shimmying underneath the covers. You sighed, nuzzling the pillow. The familiar scent of cedarwood was comforting. It was almost like you had never left your timeline. 

Lucifer stared at you with his arms crossed, no doubt bewildered by how easily you had made yourself at home in his bed. You stared right back at him with a neutral expression. Finally, he blew air out of his nose in amusement before laying down next to you. Lucifer picked up a large book on his bedside table and opened it up to where he had placed his plain blue bookmark. He began reading. 

You turned over so that you were facing Lucifer. “What’s that book about?” 

A conflicted, almost sullen look crossed Lucifer’s face for a brief moment. “Oh, this?” In an out-of-character moment, he hesitated. “It's about an angel falling in love with a human. It's fiction, simply a bit of light reading before bed,” he said.

You snickered. “Light?” That thing was huge.

“Yes, light.”

“You know, that reminds me.” You sat up in bed, tossing the covers away from you. “Mammon told me once that angels could take off their wings. Is that true?” 

“It is but not in the way you're thinking.” He thumbed the page he was on but hadn't committed to turning it completely. “Angels can choose to hide or show their wings similar to how demons can choose to hide or show their demonic characteristics. It’s their version of our demon forms if you will.”

“Oh, that’s interesting.”

Lucifer hummed, going back to reading his novel.

You fiddled with the corner of the comforter. “Mammon also told me that you used to have twelve wings when you were an angel, but he never got to see them.”

Lucifer didn't respond, choosing to focus on his book. He turned the page and let out a small huff of laughter at whatever he had read. Was he ignoring you on purpose? 

You narrowed your eyes and crossed your arms in front of your chest. “Mammon said something else that piqued my interest. He mentioned that he thought tickling you might have made the rest of them pop out,” you said.

Lucifer glared at you as though you were a rotten banana peel he found on the ground. His nose wrinkled in irritation. “Don't you dare.” His knuckles tightened against the book he was holding.

“It's too bad Mammon can't test out his theory, anymore, but since you told me that demon and angel forms are similar to each other…” You trailed off, allowing your hand to do the talking. You wiggled your fingers and slowly reached out toward his stomach.

Lucifer grabbed your wrist, gripping it a tad harder than was honestly necessary. You tried not to wince in pain. He was holding his book in one hand now, and you noticed that it was shaking slightly in his hold. His nostrils were flared, and a terrifying look swam in his reddish-gray eyes.

It was cute seeing Lucifer panic like that. It was a rare but not an unwelcome sight, that was for certain. He was desperately trying to regain control of the situation. Too bad you had to ruin that.

“If you try to lay a single finger on me, I'll–” 

Lucifer interrupted himself with a sharp gasp when you used your other hand to dig into the soft part of his thigh. He jerked his leg up, letting go of both your wrist and his book, which tumbled all of the way to the floor. 

“Oops, sorry,” you chuckled. You used this opportunity to spider all ten of your fingers along his sides. 

He tried to grab your wrists again, but you, expecting this, immediately pivoted to tickle his thighs, again. Lucifer wriggled under your grip. His cheeks turned a bright red, as he tried to suppress his laughter. Admittedly, he was doing a good job. You probably wouldn’t have realized the tickling was getting to him if it wasn’t for the fact that he was acting like he was being electrocuted.

Lucifer choked out, “Stop that!” He grabbed your shoulders and pushed you back. You fell over with only a small blow to your ego. Lucifer tried to get out of his bed, but you played dirty. Very dirty.

“Stay!” you shouted, using your pact powers on him. 

A surge of magic flew through the air, as Lucifer flopped down on his back. He tried to get up, but you were quickly at his side. You wiggled your fingers against his ribs, taking the time to silently count every single one.

Lucifer kicked his legs out. His face was contorted into a grimace, but if you looked close enough, you could see the hint of a smile across his lips. You were so close to breaking him. Lucifer weakly grabbed your upper arm, but your pact prevented him from doing much else.

“Sorry for using my powers on you,” you said, “but I really wanted to see if Mammon was right. I want to tickle you until your demon form pops out. You’ll forgive me for that, right?” After all, wasn’t it better to beg for forgiveness than ask for permission?

Lucifer opened his mouth to retort but immediately clamped his mouth shut. You could tell he was afraid of bursting out into laughter. A loud huff of air moved past his lips, causing him to press them together.

You moved to claw at his stomach. 

Lucifer jumped and squeaked.

You paused, staring at him with awe. He looked at you with a pained expression. 

“I can’t believe I made that sound,” he said helplessly. 

“I can.” 

You started tickling him again, focusing on that one sensitive spot near his belly button that had made him squeak. Lucifer writhed under your touch. He tried grabbing at your arms and wrists again but with much more desperation this time. You slipped your hands underneath his shirt, drilling your thumbs into the divots just above his hips. His skin was deliciously warm, and you couldn't help but linger in that one spot.

“HAHAHA!” Lucifer suddenly burst out into loud, frantic cackles. “DAHAHAMMIT!” His smile was wide, despite how hard he was trying to force it back down into a frown. If you looked close enough, you could see what appeared to be tiny fangs where his incisors would be. Were those always there, or was it a sign?

“You have a nice laugh, Lucifer,” you said, continuing to tickle that same spot. It seemed to be particularly bad for him, which meant that you were obligated to torture him there.

Lucifer managed to whack your shoulder. It only stung a little. “Shuhut uhuhuh–UHUP” The poor guy couldn't even get more than a few words in due to how hard he was laughing. He tossed his head back and continued to cackle. You pinched at his hips. He seized your wrists, trying to pull them off, but he couldn't. “AHA! NOHOT THEHEHERE!”

You shrugged. Lucifer seemed to be at his limit already, so you decided to be a little merciful. Slipping your hands out from underneath his shirt, you began to dig your fingers into his armpits. Lucifer dissolved into soft, almost (but not quite) hiccupy giggles.

“Ehehehehe…” Lucifer squeezed his eyes shut and jerked his head away. He bit his bottom lip to stop himself from laughing. It worked for a couple of seconds until you started to gently scratch at the area right below his underarms. “Ahaha! I'm going to–I’m going ehehehe to gehehet you for thihihis.” He looked angry, at least, as angry as he could have with an adorable smile and rosy cheeks offsetting his furrowed eyebrows. 

“I’d like to see you try.”

That was the wrong thing to say because Lucifer managed to land a strong kick straight to your stomach. You doubled over, the air whooshing out of you. Yep, you deserved that for getting so cocky around a demon. Lucifer flipped himself over on his hands and knees to try to get away from you. 

That was right. You were in the past now. The pact bond between you and Lucifer was weaker, and thus, less effective. Huh. Thankfully, you had some old-fashioned tricks up your sleeve. 

You sat on the small of his back. 

“What are you doing?” Lucifer growled, trying to buck you off. 

You grinned. “I think you know.” You squeezed his sides and dragged your nails up and down his terribly sensitive skin. It was a little embarrassing for a demon of his caliber to be this ticklish, but you didn't tell him that.

Lucifer swore under his breath. “Stohohop or else!” He was trying to knock you off, again, but you planted yourself firmly on top of him. 

“I'd like you to stay right there, Lucifer,” you said, using your pact on him, again. 

He stilled, no longer trying to push you off of him. You smiled and took this opportunity to really get under his skin. You tickled him along his torso and wherever your fingers could reach, taking the time to focus on his most sensitive spots.

Lucifer pressed his face against the mattress in an attempt to muffle his loud laughter. “You b–behehetter behe ehehe prepared for your puhuhuhunishment! Ahaha! HahahAHAha!” He shrieked when you managed to suddenly spider your fingertips along the sides of his neck. He scrunched his shoulders up, but that didn't stop you from trying to draw that sound out from him, again.

You chose to ignore him and pretended to peer at the top of his head. “Ooh, are those horns I see? I think it's working! I can see your demon form emerging.” You were just kidding, of course, but the urge to tease Lucifer never stops.

“Stop lying!” Lucifer managed to grunt out in between fits of pure laughter. You had never seen him laugh this much before, not even in the present. It was nice seeing this side of him. You supposed that the main difference between Lucifer from the past and Lucifer from the present was that your Lucifer was better at hiding his reactions. This one hadn't quite mastered that skill, yet.

“I don't think I am,” you said. You started to tickle his hips, again. That was your favorite spot because of the reactions you’d get from him whenever you teased him there.

Lucifer clawed at the area in front of him, balling up fistfuls of the comforter in his hands at a time. A part of you wanted to hear him beg, but you knew he was too prideful to do something like that.

He cackled and pounded the mattress with his fist. “AHAHA! Stop! Stohop ihit now!” His commanding presence was muddled by how cute and giggly he was being. Lucifer wriggled and twisted in place, desperate to get you to stop tickling him. His entire body twitched with each new touch. 

“Aw, but I haven't even–ugh!”

Something hit you square in the jaw. Stars clouded your vision, as you tumbled backward. You almost fell off of Lucifer’s bed, but you managed to catch yourself just in time. You propped yourself on one elbow and rubbed the underside of your stinging face. Yeah, that was going to leave a nasty bruise later. You were pretty sure you accidentally bit your tongue, too.

Wait. There was something weird inside of your mouth. Ew! You spat it out into your hand and tried not to gag. Opening your eyes, you saw that it was…a black feather? You inspected it further. Yep, that was what it was. Where did it come from?

You looked up and saw Lucifer. He had managed to sit up on his knees and was scowling at you. The diamond on his forehead looked oddly menacing in the dim lighting of his bedroom. His flowy black and red outfit was draped over his body, trailing along the bed. His horns, black as night, twisted up from his head, pointing up toward the ceiling. Lucifer’s two sets of wings flapped angrily, sending a small gust of wind your way.

He was in his demon form.

Lucifer was in his demon form.

Mammon was right.

You were able to tickle Lucifer until his demon form popped out.

Wow.

As much as you wanted to celebrate this achievement, you weren’t able to, considering the death glare Lucifer was giving you. His breathing was ragged and his face was still cherry red, but that didn't change how menacing Lucifer could be when he was in his demon form.

“Congratulations. You were right. I hope you're proud of yourself,” Lucifer said. His voice was a low growl. The smirk he was giving you sent shivers up your spine. He tugged on his gloves like he was preparing for something.

“I am, actually,” you muttered, slowly crawling backward. Maybe if you made a run for it, you could make it to the door…

Lucifer shook his head. “Always so cocky, despite knowing exactly what I'm going to do to you.”

“And that would be?”

“I'm going to tickle you until you're begging for mercy. Do you think you could handle that?” Lucifer stepped up close to you, subtly blocking off your exit.

You smiled at him, as sweetly as you could. “I seriously doubt you could lay a hand on me.”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge?”

“Maybe.”

The fury on Lucifer’s face washed away, as he started to snicker. He shook his head in exasperation and pressed his fingers against his temples. “You always know how to push my buttons.”

That, you did.

[anakin-pilled]

SILVER SPRINGS (Lo'ak x Fem! Reader)

pairing: lo'ak x fem! reader

wordcount: 7.6k

warnings: angst, fandom cliches, amateur writing, bantering, unrequited love (?), complex family dynamics, A LOT OF CLICHES IM SORRY, bad pacing (my bad bro idk how to pace a story im new to this), not sure what else as this is pretty tame

rating: SFW! though my blog is 18+ because i interact with nsfw content, anyone can technically read this?

taglist: @teyamsatan

author's note: okay hi this is my first fanfic that i've ever written before? not counting fanfics i wrote in middle school anyway i got the idea for this fanfic after listening to silver springs by fleetwood mac and i was so obsessed with this idea that i had to make it come true? im a huge neteyam girly so this is a shocker that my first fic ever is about lo'ak (he's my babygirl, just not the LOML like neteyam). uhhh im only familiar with academic writing and this is my first time EVER dipping my toe into the waters of creative writing so pls bear with me if this is not perfect. i actually think this is quite flat and tbh i hate the pacing like its actually awful and there is so much room for improvement, but hey what can i do? IM A NEWBIE AT THIS!! with that being said, if you do decide to read, please treat me with some grace because i am sensitive and i did this purely for fun!!! i know my lo'ak stans are starving for fics and im here to deliver!!!! i am not a professional or seasoned writer by any means but i really tried my best to create something enjoyable ): i don't know why this ended up being so long but it did and there WILL be a part two, i already have it outlined. SO WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, here is my first avatar fanfiction!!

proofread and edited but i got lazy toward the end LOL if you see any mistakes, please tell me kindly <3

You could be my silver spring

Blue-green colors flashin'

I would be your only dream

Your shinin' autumn ocean crashin'

The forest blended into a mixture of vibrant colors as you ran away from the incoming threat. Beautiful shades of blue, green, and purple passed around you. The feeling of the bare ground, soft and pliant from the morning dew, normally imbued you with a sense of stability and peace. As long as your feet were on the ground and connected to Ewya’s bountiful moon, you knew everything would be alright. However, this time, the feeling of the bare ground underneath your feet felt the opposite of stable and peaceful. The ground served as a reminder of how much longer you had to run until you reached the safe confines of the Omitikaya clan. 

You stopped running with a quick halt. Your chest heaved up and down as you tried to catch your breath. The beads in your hair clacked together in a cacophony as you looked around in different directions. The sun broke through the tree canopy and highlighted the forest like a kaleidoscope. Swish. You quickly turned your head to the other side to catch sight of what made the noise but all you could see was the rustling of the bush–as if whatever you were looking for was looking for you too before running off. Without a second to spare, you dashed in the direction of the village. But you only made it a few feet ahead of you before you were tackled by something heavy and shoved to the forest ground.

“I win.” said the voice from above in a triumphant, but annoying, manner. 

“You got to be faster than that, ‘eylan.” As you shaded your eyes with your hand, you were met with the illuminating picture of Lo’ak on top of you. The sun shone above on Lo’ak and cast him in beautiful rays of light. He looked like an angel–like a celestial being sent straight from Ewya’s heart and into your eyesight. Though you have never seen an angel, Norm described them as ethereal and pure religious beings. And at this moment, Lo’ak was an angel. 

“Get off me, fatass.” You said as you pushed Lo’ak weight off your body. You secretly loved the weight of his body on yours and how it radiated a warmth that hugged your body and soul. Lo’ak rolled off with ease and laid next to you on the foliage. “Hey! No need to insult me because you lost yet another round of hunter and prey.” 

Hunter and prey. A game that all Omitcayan children played growing up. And though you and Lo’ak were no longer children, you continued to play this game. Lo’ak claims it’s a great way to burn energy and let loose. You suspected he liked playing so often because it allowed him to avoid whatever daily chores his father, the Olo’eyktan, assigned him. And while you could think of better ways to spend your time, you indulged in Lo’ak’s childish whims because it brought him happiness. What type of best friend would you be if you didn’t? 

“I’m not insulting you because I lost. I could care less about losing,” You explained. “I’m insulting you because tackled me to the ground and put your entire weight on my body. Lay off the yovo fruit and I might insult you less.” 

Lo’ak scoffed at your response and stuck his tongue out in a mocking manner. “You mean the yovo fruit that Spider and I specifically collected because you asked for it? Yeah, I got put on ikran pen duty for a week after that since we missed curfew.” 

You simply rolled your eyes and aimed your middle finger at Lo’ak. Yeah, you definitely spent way too much time around Lo’ak. 

You both basked in the sun and listened to the sound of the forest: your home, your comfort place, the lifeline of the People. You thanked Eywa every day for the forest and the way it provided for you endlessly–from the delicious yovo fruit, to the medicinal herbs, fauna, and everything in between. There was a gentle rustle in the air as it approached low afternoon. If closed your eyes and listened hard enough, you could hear the faint buzz of the insects and the leaves fluttering. 

As you turned on your side to face Lo’ak, you noticed he still had his eyes shut. Your eyes raked over his stripes–the stripes that would forever be engrained in your brain–and focused on the armband that fits snugly on his upper arm. The weaved armband was made out of dried, violet stalks from the tstxa'a plant and braided into a traditional, intricate Omatikayan pattern. You added tiny clay beads that you hand-molded and painted a color very similar to a marigold–you captured copious amounts of juice from the banana fruit just to have enough pigment to create a dye. A small smile appeared on your face as you recall how long it took you to make the armband. 

Your eyes slowly made their way toward his face. They widened as they realized Lo’ak’s eyes were open and staring at you too. The air was charged with tension as you both continued to stare at each other in silence. 

You and Lo’ak always had this weird ability to communicate through eye contact alone. Your friendship, which was forged in childhood, ran so deep that words failed to represent what your eyes could. He was your other half as much as you were his. In these small moments of intimacy, you remember just how much you love Lo’ak. There was an unspoken bond between you two–a bond that went beyond friendship and teetered on the edge of romantic love. And while it was undeniable that there was something more happening between the two of you, your relationship stayed on that flimsy edge. 

“What are you thinking about,” you whispered in a tone so soft that it reached Lo’ak ears like a tender caress. 

“Oh, nothing. Just thinking,” Lo’ak replied with a teasing lilt in his voice and a glitter in his amber eyes. While everyone in the Omatikaya clan had the same shades of bright, yellow eyes, you thought Lo’ak had the prettiest. You raised the muscle on your face, where your eyebrows would have been if you had, and furrowed your forehead in suspicious knowing. 

“Thinki-” “I’m thinking about how funny it would be if I beat your ass in another round of hunter and prey! Last one to the village has to take over foraging duty!,” Lo’ak shouted with a boyish smile as he got up quickly and ran in the direction of his kelku.  

You got up from the lush grass and ran after him with another exacerbated breath.

The day drawled along as you patrolled the forest for the dandetiger tree. You looked for its long, azure leaves and armored trunk. As a healer in training, you were tasked by Mo’at to look for the tree for samples of the resin-like substance that it leaked. The sticky substance was extremely helpful to the Omatikaya clan in many ways as it behaved like an adhesive. It was especially important to healers as they used the dangetiger tree as part of treating wounds and ensuring bandages stuck and protected healing wounds. The healing hut ran low on its supply, thus you found yourself wandering through the forest. Kiri offered to accompany you, but you could tell she rather focus on perfecting the paste she was mixing. A major perk of being best friends with Lo’ak is that you also became close with his family and found a small niche within the Sully family.

You were an extension of Lo’ak, but also the opposite of him in some ways. Whereas Lo’ak was more energetic and impulsive, you were calmer and sensical. You both balanced each other perfectly; you were the yin to his yang. While Lo’ak’s nature often got him in trouble with his family, namely his father and older brother, you loved his high energy and zest for life. Sure, he could use more pragmatism in his daily thinking, but you saw Lo’ak’s personality as a blessing more than a hindrance, especially in times of war and destruction. If Lo’ak was your sun, then you were his moon–stable and outer-worldly. You were unwavering. Your nurturing nature and kind soul always amazed Lo’ak, even in the worse of times, you took it upon yourself to think and act as an optimist. You carried yourself with a sense of dignity that Lo’ak wishes he could replicate.

Though none of you ever admitted it out loud, you and Lo’ak knew that you loved each other in a way that best friends didn’t.

Despite your differences, you both had a passion for exploring and adventure. If Lo’ak went anywhere, you followed. And if he got in any trouble, you were only a few steps behind him. While Lo’ak intention for mischief was partially caused by the motivation to piss off his father, you believed that Eywa made Pandora for the purpose of exploring. Why would she make Pandora so magnificent and rich in life if not to experience every single crevice, nook, and cranny of it? While the forest would always be your home and the place you want to spend the rest of your life in, you could not deny the appeal of a nomadic lifestyle like the Olangi clan. However, with the return of the sky people on Pandora, your exploring had been cut to a short. Unable to venture into the unknown parts of the forest, the parts that resulted in a scolding or two from both your mom and Mr. Sully, you were forced to stay within the clan’s boundary lines.

Your thoughts were cut short as your heard movement in the background. The bag on your shoulder was discarded to the ground as you took out your bow and arrow. You were no warrior, but you begged Lo’ak to teach you enough to be able to defend yourself. Any Na’vi should know this little. You prayed to Eywa that it wasn’t a palulukan, or worse—a sky demon. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of your face as you aimed your bow in the direction of where you heard the noise. You aimed at the bushes before letting your final finger release the bow.

“Relax, syulang! It’s just me, Lo’ak!,” he said as he came out from the bushes of loreyu and walked to where you were standing. “Lo’ak,” you huffed with annoyance in your voice. “Don’t scare me like that, you skxawng! I was really focused on finding a dandetiger tree. Tsahik’s orders. What are you even doing here? I thought you were training with your father.”

“Lo’ak,” you huffed with annoyance in your voice. “Don’t scare me like that, you skxawng! I was really focused on finding a dandetiger tree. Tsahik’s orders. What are you even doing here? I thought you were training with your father.” 

As Lo’ak walked closer to you, you noticed the downturn expression on his face. Your immediate heart softened. He must have had another fight with his father, you thought to yourself. Lo’ak turned his face toward yours and you saw the unshed tears in his eyes that threatened to fall any second now.

“I, uh, I was training with my father until we got into a fight and I stormed off,” he said with a shaky breath. You could tell Lo’ak was trying to keep his composure, not wanting to show that vulnerable side he desperately tries to hide away. Yet, you knew better than that. Every time Lo’ak tried to shut down and hide his emotions, you came running after him and knocked down the fragile walls he built around himself. The walls were fragile because Lo’ak knew he would and could never shut you out completely. He took a deep, shaky breath before continuing, “I’m just so sick of it. He expects me to be this perfect son and soldier all in one, but I’m not Neteyam. I’m just Lo’ak.”

You always thought Lo’ak was the most complex person you ever met. He was the second-born son of the revered Toruk Makto and mighty Palulukun Makto. But, Lo’ak was so much more than that to you. He was more than both of his parents. Though he would never admit it, Lo’ak was a lost soul. Not quite like Neteyam, the mighty warrior and dutiful son, or the spiritual Kiri who was literally like Ewya’s disciple. Hell, even everyone knew Tuk would grow into a fine, strong-spirited woman! Lo’ak didn't know where he fit in his family. Of course, the Sully family loved him, and Lo’ak loved his family just as much. But that still didn’t stop the gnawing, deep feeling in Lo’ak’s subconscious from telling him that he would never amount to greatness like the rest of his family. You wished Lo’ak wouldn’t be so hard on himself because you also had a deep feeling in your subconscious that Lo’ak was destined for greatness–the feeling was embedded so deep in your bones that you would bet your left on it. 

“I know that I’m a fuck up.” 

“You’re no-”

“It’s okay, syulang. I know I’m a fuck up. I can see it in the tribes’ faces every time they hear my father lecture me, or worse, hear Neteyam lecture me. I can see it in my fathers’ eyes and in the way the rest of my family pities me.”

“Your family doesn’t pity you, Lo’ak. If anything, they pity the way your father has been forced into this weird dichotomy of the punisher and protector ever since the sky demons returned and how it’s taken an effect on your relationship,” you tried to explain as sweetly as possible. 

You took a step closer to Lo’ak and examined his face. Though his tears had dried and his eyes were now puffy, you could still tell there was a great sadness within him. You wished you could take all his pain and suffering so he didn’t have to. 

“I don’t know who I am besides the fuck up, or the troublemaker. I feel like my entire existence is defined by all the things I am not. Defined by the way I’m different from Neteyam or Kiri. I want to be defined by who I am, but I don’t even know who that is most of the time,” said Lo’ak. “I try so hard, but it is never enough to satisfy my father. Or myself. I feel this heavy pressure in my chest and no matter what I do to relieve it, it stays. If I am not meant to be the next Olo’eyktan or the next Tsahik, then who am I meant to be? Sure–I am training to become a warrior, but I’m not sure if this is something I want or if it is a role I am forced into. I know I’m impulsive and reckless and irresponsible, but I try so hard, but what if that isn’t enough to look over all my flaws and mistakes?”

You moved even closer and tucked one of Lo’ak’s front braids behind his ear. You always loved his hair like this. It suited his face so well. His braids were adorned by various beads, each with its own significance and memory attached to them. The beads he wore today were a pretty amethyst color. Your mind quickly flashbacked to the day you both created the matching beads. You both swam all day in one of the forest’s ponds trying to find the purple stones underwater so you could both craft new beads. Lo’ak almost passed out from lack of air twice and your hair was so tangled by the end of the day that it took your mother three hours to undo the gnarly knots. It was totally worth it, however, because you gained new accessories and memories to match. But before you could let yourself get too far away in the past, you shifted your attention towards Lo’ak and began to speak.

“I see you, Lo’ak. I see all of you. I know that you feel like a lost soul and that you get too caught up in comparing yourself to the rest of your family. And I truly wished you didn’t compare yourself to others so much because you are so special.” Lo’ak’s face grew warm at your words. Before he could respond, you interrupted him and continued to talk. “You feel like you are too different from your family and think you do not fit in, but you do! You are the light of your family; you bring laughter and happiness. The Sully dynamic would not be the same without you–it would be too serious and no one would have fun! Lo’ak, you have a strong heart like your father. Even though you could use some impulse control, I know you never have ill intentions. We are still so young and have so much more maturing to do. Do not let yourself be defined by the mistakes of your past. Mistakes are bound to happen–they are as natural as birth and death. You’re the light of my life too. Without you, there is no one else in this clan that could make me smile as much as you do. No one to explore with and quench our thirst for curiosity. You say that you are impulsive, but there is too much excitement in your body to contain it. I love seeing your excitement and wander–it is a reminder of Pandora’s goodness and the way Eywa intended us to live. You are not irresponsible, you are just learning along the way like we all are. There is no one like you, and my heart is torn because you do not see yourself in the same way. I pray to Eywa that you could see yourself through my eyes.” You then placed one hand on Lo’ak’s chest, right above his heart.

“​​Nga yawne lu oer, Lo’ak.” There was no going back now. You said it–the words that would either be fatal to your soul or make your heart sore higher than the Hallejuah Mountains. And though there was a risk of Lo’ak rejecting you completely, you jumped off the fragile cliff that your friendship lived on. All the intimate moments, the knowing smiles, and the lifetime of shared memories led you to this moment. 

A moment of silent pass as you waited for Lo’ak’s response to your confession. Lo'ak did not expect you to confess, but he knew at some point it was bound to happen. Just not right now, under these cruel circumstances, in a time of devastation.

You shouldn’t have confessed. Lo’ak wasn’t ready for it.

The look in your eyes was so sincere and so full of unconditional love. You are the only person who could truly see Lo’ak for everything that he is and everything he was meant to become. The light hit your eyes in the right way and Lo’ak could swear they were glittering. Ewya blessed her with both heart and beauty, he said in his head. Lo’ak could only stare as he still reeled from your heartfelt speech. He wasn’t an idiot—Lo’ak knew that there was a special chemistry between him and his best friend. And he also knew that it was the type of chemistry that only two people in love have. Lo’ak has known ever since he was a small child that you were his endgame. Your years spent together only solidified his hypothesis. 

Life on Pandora could be unforgiving and unrelenting, but you were the complete opposite. You were forgiving, always ready to accept Lo’ak back into your arms and heart after every mistake he made. Though these mistakes were rarely made towards you, you still welcomed him every time. You were always there for him. But, Lo’ak didn’t fall in love with you because of the fact you were always there for him. It did play a big part, but Lo’ak knew that would be a selfish reason for falling in love. Instead, Lo’ak fell in love with you because you were…well, you. You were kind and always treated your fellow clan members with the utmost consideration and respect. You were perceptive, never wanting to misconstrue a situation and analyzing all nuances before speaking on something. Because of this, everything you said or did was genuine. Lo’ak loved this the most about you. Where Lo’ak felt everyone in the clan (excluding his family and Spider) give him fake niceties, you were 100% authentic towards him. You never condescendingly spoke to him or treated him like a chore that had to be put up with. Compassion and understanding were what you treated Lo’ak with. These are all things he rarely experienced with other Na’vi. Yet, you also weren’t afraid to call out Lo’ak on his bullshit and humble him. You somehow balanced outspokenness and tenderness all at once. This lit a fire in Lo’ak soul.

This thought both excited and scared him. The thought of loving someone unconditionally, and being loved unconditionally, seemed like something too good to be true. Only something reserved for people who deserved it. Lo’ak knew you deserved unconditional love, but it couldn’t be with him. Despite everything you said about him and the way it almost glued together his broken self-esteem, Lo’ak could not return your confession in good consciousness. It’s not that Lo’ak didn't love you–hell, he loves you more than anyone or anything on this moon! But, his insecurities would not allow you to love him or allow him to love you. He didn’t deserve to love or be loved, not when his insecurities kept up awake at night, taunting his brain with “You’ll never be good enough” or “You’re a failure of a son and brother.” You deserved better than Lo’ak and all of his broken parts. You needed someone who was the best–someone like Neteyam, but not Neteyam himself because that would be the final nail in Lo’ak’s coffin. Lo’ak knows his recklessness, impulsivity, and natural gravitation toward the unknown was acceptable because he is young. These may be the traits you love about Lo’ak now, but he knows very well these are the same traits that can make you fall out of love with him too. After all, you won’t be young forever and it won’t be cute forever. But what if he never grows out of this? What if this is who he is meant to be? No, Lo’ak would not subject you to this fate. 

And so, for once in his life, Lo’ak let fear take over his decision. Your face morphed into an expression of shock and confusion before settling on a still face.

“I am sorry, syulang. I can’t do this right now.” 

You watched Lo’ak retreat from the spot you both stood in. What the fuck just happened?

You spent the next few days in a strange haze as you processed what happened between you and Lo’ak. At first, you were angry. How could Lo’ak just leave you hanging like that? For Ewya’s sake, he could have said anything else and it would have been a better response than what he said. You laid your fucking heart out on your sleeve, waiting for Lo’ak to take it and claim it forever. After your initial response to the situation, you started to worry. Maybe you misinterpreted your relationship. What if Lo’ak didn’t love you and you just thought he did because of how close you were? No, that didn’t sound right. You knew Lo’ak loved you too. Not even in a delusional way to comfort yourself, but there was no denying you both loved each other. Did you just confess at the wrong time? Perhaps it would have been better if you confessed when Lo’ak wasn’t fighting with his father. But, you didn’t even mean to confess! Well, you did mean to confess but not at that exact moment. You were trying to comfort Lo’ak and reassure him that he was wrong, that someone could love him. It just seemed like the right thing to say. What if it wasn’t? What if it overwhelmed Lo’ak and pushed him away? Now you felt like the jerk for confessing at such a moment. But Lo’ak was a jerk too for just leaving you! You really wished you could talk to him, or that he would talk to you, but the timing was horrible. The war party went out a few days ago, and it was Lo’ak’s first time joining the mission. But of course, things never go as planned. Over-enthusiasm from Lo’ak’s and an injured Neteyam caused Mr. Sully to put Lo’ak on lockdown for the last few days. This was the first day Lo’ak was allowed some freedom to explore, that’s what Kiri told you before she left with her brother, Spider, and Tuk. You wanted to join them in their adventure today, but you were still reeling from your last conversation with Lo’ak and decided it would be better to stay in the village. You needed one more day to unscramble your thoughts before approaching him.

The tension between you and Lo’ak had been festering, but it quickly came to a stop once you saw him walk back into the village with his entire family. Jake and Neytiri walked walk in front of their children with heavy looks on their faces. Jake looked angry, yet worn at the same time. His mouth was pressed in a tight line and the wrinkles in his forehead looked more apparent than they ever have before. Neytiri walked beside Jake with Tuk’s hand in hers in a tight grasp, as if she never wanted to let her baby go ever again. Her expression was harder to read, but you could tell the tsakarem was worried by her stiff posture. Kiri trailed behind her parents with a slouchy form and arms across her torso. She looks dejected. And finally in the back were Neteyam and Lo’ak. Spider was nowhere to be seen, which you found odd as he went with the rest of the Sully children into the forest, but you assumed he must have gone back to the human outpost before curfew. 

I wonder what happened. Something must have happened if the entire family walked in like that. 

Jake and Neytiri quickly made their way to their kelku and closed the opening flaps before any of their children could come in. The Sully children then made their way toward the side of their kelku and leaned forward on their hands as they attempted to listen to their parent's conversation. You wanted to make your way towards them and figure out what the hell happened. Just as you were about to walk over to them, Lo’ak turned around and his eyes scanned the village as if he were looking for something or someone. Lo’ak’s eyes then met yours and with a small nod, you understood what he was trying to say. Later. At our spot. 

Your stomach turned to bubbles as a feeling of cold anxiety washed over your body. You weren’t sure if it was because of Lo’ak or something else, but you knew whatever it was, it was not good. 

Lo’ak was already sitting on the bioluminescent forest floor when you arrived at the small clearing which was designated as our spot. It was a hidden clearing–away from any of the main trails and hunting and gathering spots that the clan used. You first found the clearing one day after playing a round of hunter and prey with Lo’ak and Spider. 

Flashback

You were both 12 years old. Your hair was cut in a sharp, shoulder-length bob because you claimed long hair only got in the way. A bright orange and yellow ombre feather decorated the underside of your hair. A simple beige-toned weaved top and matching ‘tewng adorned your small body as you ran away from Lo’ak. He loved playing the role of hunter–you assumed it because of the way Lo’ak looked up to his father.  He wanted to be like the Olo’eyktan in every way possible. This was before their relationship had a strain in it. Both you and Lo’ak were unmarred from the harshness of war. The only thought that filled both of your minds was what adventure you would get into next. 

As you giggled profusely and thought of where to run next, you noticed that you were in a different part of the forest that you never visited before. You searched for any familiar landmarks, or plants that would signify where you were. The giggles that previously escaped your mouth quieted down as the situation dawned on you. You were lost in the forest all alone! Your mom was going to kill you, but only if a nantang or palulukun didn’t kill you first. 

“Lo’ak, are you there!!!!!,” you screamed at the top of your lungs. That probably wasn’t the smartest move. A predator could be attracted to your sound. But you figured it would be better to call for Lo’ak. If any predators came, you could climb a tree and wait it out. 

“Lo’ak!!!” you continued. Worry was starting to creep in. If you didn’t find Lo’ak soon, there was no way you would be able to survive the night in the forest. 

As you looked around the clearing again, you noted that it was quite pretty. A small pond, decorated with pink paysyuls, sat in the middle of the forest. The sun streamed through the trees and you could see the fishes elegantly swim in the water. A pack of loreyu sat directly across the pond, along with eanean bushes right next to it. The clearing was simple, but you knew that it was much more than that. Like everything else Eywa created, the clearing served a purpose and was spiritually connected to the Na’vi. Perhaps its purpose was unknown until this moment. You decided that the purpose of the clearing would be a secret spot only known to both you and Lo’ak. The thought excited you, and you quickly imagined a lifetime of moments here.

Flashback Over

Lo’ak sat with his arms extended behind him with his back facing you. You could see the tension in his back muscle as he sat there, looking up towards the night sky. One of Polyphemus’ moons was shaped like an ikran claw. Despite the moon’s brightness in the sky, the stars still twinkled. A soft, minty green glow emitted from the bioluminescent leaves Lo’ak sat upon. His tanhi, patterned perfectly on his body like Ewya directly hand placed each freckle herself, glowed like the sky above him. Lo’ak was lost in his thoughts as he silently spoke to Ewya, questioning what her intention was. You cleared your throat to grab Lo’ak’s attention.

“Hey…” he muttered under his breath. You replied with a soft hello before taking your place next to him. There was still an awkward tension lingering between the two of you, but you pushed it away. Whatever happened a few days ago didn’t matter anymore. You knew something serious happened in the Sully family and you knew your best friend needed you right now. 

“Do you want to tell me what happened this time?” you quoted Lo’ak as you looked into his eyes for the first time in a few days. The dark lighting only enhanced the rich shade of his honey-colored eyes. They glowed brightly in the dark. His eyes resembled the shiny topaz glass jewels located deep in the rainforests’ many caverns–both were a sight to behold. 

Lo’ak thought he should rip the bandage off. There was no point in delaying the traumatic news he just received from his parents. 

“My family and I are leaving the forest.” 

You were confused by his statement. Leaving where? There was no other place to go. The forest was your home, his home. “Do you mean that you’re visiting another tribe for diplomatic reasons,” you asked with a slight tilt in your head to match confusion. Why would this be so important that he needed to meet you at your spot? This wouldn’t be the first time the Sully family has left on diplomatic retreats.

“No, (Y/N). My family and I are leaving the forest permanently,” Lo’ak replied. Your heart dropped into the pits of your stomach. Now you were just getting annoyed. You haven’t spoken to Lo’ak in the days, and the first thing he does is try to pull at your leg. “Lo’ak if this is a joke, then it’s not funny. What are you talking about?” you said with a stern voice. Lo’ak stared at you as if he didn’t want to explain further. It’s true, he didn’t want to explain further because it meant that what was happening was real and there was no way to delay or stop the situation.

“Earlier today, when we were exploring the forest, we saw footprints in the dirt that didn’t belong to any Na’vi. It was sky demons. We followed the footsteps to an abandoned shack. I knew we weren’t supposed to be there, but then we spotted a group of uniltìranyu in military gear. I quickly paged my father and let him know what we found. But as we were trying to leave back to the forest, the uniltìranyu captured us and held us hostage…”

“What?” you let out in shock. The magnitude of Lo’ak’s words hit you like a poisoned arrow. Dreamwalkers? How could that be true? The last dream walker to walk the ground of Pandora was Jake Sully…and that was 14 years ago.

“I-I  thought we were going to die. They treated us like we were animals. As if we were the ones who invaded their planet and deserved to be captured and hung. All I felt was primal fear and the instinctual reaction to protect my family. We were held hostage until my parents and brother came to our rescue. But, it was too late by then. They figured out who were and our relation to my father.  They even captured Spider…” Lo’ak had to stop speaking. The familiar tightening of his throat began. You could tell he was about to cry, but you pushed further. Honestly, your brain was fuzzy at this point. It was so fuzzy to the point that you didn’t even process the news of Spider, your tiny human friend, being captured. It completely slipped your mind. You didn’t have time to think about the implications of this news as you could only process one thing and one thing only: Lo’ak was leaving. The Sullys were leaving!

“What does that have to do with you leaving the forest?”

“Don’t you understand, syulang? They know who we are. Our lives are at risk! The whole clan is at risk if we continue to stay.” Lo’ak explained in frustration. “I don’t want this, I don’t want to leave the only place I’ve ever known. How can I leave the forest while Spider is out there, going through Eywa knows what, with those demons? How can I leave you?” Fat, wet tears streamed down Lo’ak’s face as he spoke. 

Crack. The sound of your heart breaking reverberated in your ears. All you could hear was a dull ringing. Your best friend, the love of your life–how could he just leave like that? You questioned the will of Eywa. How could she be so cruel to tear you both apart? Especially after your confession the other day? You wanted to curse and scream and cry all at once. However, you knew you had to be strong for Lo’ak. 

You held Lo’ak’s body in silence. You were both in a catatonic state. An hour or so had passed since his initial confession. The atmosphere was serene, a heavy contrast from the dark storm brewing in both of your minds. This may be the last time you would ever get to hold Lo’ak like this and fully enjoy his presence. All of the years spent together slowly meshed in your mind as you tried to calm yourself down with memories of happier times. You honestly didn’t know how you could survive this life without your other half. 

Lo’ak wasn’t faring any better than you. His continuous sniffles vibrated on your body. He barely looked up, wanting to savor the feeling of your bodies pressed together in such an intimate way. His mind was in a haze as he processed the situation. This wasn’t real life, it couldn’t be real life. His life was perfectly balanced with you. If Eywa sought to protect the balance of life, why would she take you away from him? Why would she take away Spider? 

Tomorrow is never promised. That is a cruel lesson you learned today. It was probably best that you and Lo’ak head back to the village and sleep, but you didn’t want this night to end. You wanted to savor every last moment. Memorize every stripe on Lo’ak’s body, every green speck in his eyes, the way his eyebrows moved, and how his body felt right next to yours. How could you say goodbye to 14 years of memories in one night? It seemed impossible. 

As you stared at the light reflecting off the pond, you knew there was one topic you had to broach. You weren’t sure if this was the right time, but it was the only chance you had. After all, Lo’ak only had one more day in the clan before his family set off to Eywa knows where. You knew the forest of Pandora held many clans, but you suspected his family would be going somewhere even further than that. You tried to calm the rapid pace of your heart, but your nerves refused to settle down. So, you sent a quick prayer to Ewya, turned to Lo’ak, and quietly said, “The other night, when I said I love you, why didn’t you say it back?”

You didn’t want to fight with Lo’ak–not on a night like this, where blood has been shed and a family has been torn from normalcy. But, you had to talk to Lo’ak about this. What if you never saw him again? You couldn’t live the rest of your life with unresolved feelings. It would drive you utterly insane and wreck your soul for as long as you live. 

(Y/N)...”

“I’m being serious, Lo’ak. Why did not you say it back? I know this is the last thing on your mind right now, but you cannot leave me hanging. You owe me more than that and you know it,” you said with determination in your voice. 

You then stood up. This was not a conversation you could have sitting down. The anxiety coursing through your veins made it impossible to sit still. Lo’ak followed your actions and stood up too. 

“I was afraid,” he replied.

“Afraid of what Lo’ak? We have always been so honest with each other.” You thought you would always understand Lo’ak, but perhaps you were mistaken. You didn’t understand what there was to be afraid of. You both loved each other, shouldn’t that be enough? You failed to realize that love isn’t enough sometimes. There are forces beyond your control that make love unsustainable and out of your reach, despite how close you are to it. Eywa did not teach you this lesson. Lo’ak did. 

Lo’ak was faced with two choices at this moment: he could confess his love to you or he could deny it. He so desperately wished he could choose the first choice. Something within him would not allow himself to whether it was because he was about to leave and he could not promise himself to you, or because he was so far deep in his inner turmoil. Lo’ak felt anger bubbling in his chest. This anger wasn’t directed towards you, but himself. He cursed his inability to allow himself to fully love you because of his internal issues. No, he justified the second choice in his mind with weak reasons as to why he could not confess his love. 

If he said confessed, Lo’ak knew you would spend the rest of your days waiting for his return. If he ever returned. You deserved more than that. You deserved someone who could love you now. The prospect of you waiting for him, only for Lo’ak to stay the same Na’vi he was now, a version of himself that wasn’t proud of, haunted him. Yeah. Lo’ak framed his reasoning to focus on you, rather than himself because it made the harsh reality less painful. Damn the fact he was leaving, he would wait 100 years for you too if he confessed. The reality was Lo’ak could not confess his love because he couldn’t give his all to you, not when his judgment and self-worth were clouded by thoughts so dark that Eywa would be heartbroken to learn one of her children, whom she created with love and adoration, did not love himself. 

Either way, he was about to break your heart for the second time within days. 

“You are the other half of my soul and if there is any person who can understand me, it is you. But, I cannot love you. I’m sorry syulang.” There was a sorrowful look across Lo’ak’s face. Your body deflated at his words and the familiar sting of tears gathered in your eyes. He didn’t want to continue, but if was going to break your heart, you at least deserved a proper explanation.

“You are the most lovely and wonderful woman on this planet; the idea of you not being in my life hurts more than a palulukan attack. But I swear on my life to Eywa when I say this, but it is not you. It’s me. You have always been this positive being in my life, and I always hoped it would rub off on me and make me a better man. I thought, maybe if that ever happened, we could be together in the future. I would finally be worthy of all the love you have to offer. I am not good enough for you. I would only drag you down with the weight of my heavy problems,” Lo’ak finished.

“But it’s not your choice to decide who deserves me,” you let out with an exasperated tone. “How can you stand here in front of me and deny the bond we have? The love we have? The other day when I confessed that I see you and you ignored it, I brushed it off my shoulder because I was sure, with every fiber of my being, that you see me too. That you love me. But now you are leaving, and Eywa knows when the fuck you are coming back, and you can't even admit it out loud?” you questioned. 

“Don’t you get it? I am not doing this because I want to deny the bond we have. I feel our bond every day from the time I wake up to the time I go to sleep. Even in my dreams, you are there. Your essence is built into the foundation of my bones. I just can’t love you. No good would come of it. I’m the clan’s outcast. Yes, we are best friends and we know each other like the back of our palms. But I won't let you carry the burden of my imperfectness,” Lo’ak choked with a sob at the end. 

Without missing a beat, you tirade, “I think everything you are saying is complete bullshit. How could be absolute about something that has not been realized? We have spent the last 14 years together. I know you better than I know myself, Lo’ak. And I know you see me too, so what are you so afraid of? There is nothing that you could ever do that would scare me away from loving you. I love you for who you are–flaws and all. I notice everything about you, the good and the bad. I know you have feelings so big and nerve-wracking that you do not know how to handle them except by convincing yourself that they are true. But you cannot stand in my face and claim that this is for my own good. No, you are saying all this because you are too scared of the possibility that I might see through all that and decide that you are not worth the trouble, that every judgment the clan and your father says about you is right.”

You stepped a few feet away from Lo’ak and then turned towards the direction of the village. He hadn’t said a word since you finished your speech. Your entire back was facing Lo’ak until you turned your head over your shoulder to look back at him. The tears that pooled in your eyes began to flow like a sad waterfall that was dying, the tears slowly rolling down your stripped cheeks in an antagonizing matter. Your golden eyes stared into Lo’ak’s. He could see the hurt etched across your iris and he was sure his eyes looked just as pathetic and broken. It was a moment that would forever be engrained into Lo’ak’s memory. You opened your mouth and delivered the final blow to this already crestfallen night,

“Maybe I was wrong, maybe you don’t see me. Because if you truly did, you would know that I would not care about your weaknesses. I don’t even care about them now. I refuse to believe that you cannot love me too. You are a lot of things Lo’ak. A coward is not one of them. I’ll see you tomorrow to say goodbye.” 

And at this moment, Lo’ak knew this was the biggest of all his fuck ups. He had managed to ruin a lot of good things and moments. Never knowing when the party is over and when the business began. When it came to you, his sweet tìyawn, Lo’ak never made any serious mistakes. So why was he doing it now? Lo’ak’s eyes burned as he stared at your figure walking away from him and the future you could’ve had together. 

translations: eylan - friend, Olo’eyktan - male clan leader, tstxa'a - canalyd, kelku - home, palulukan - thanator, syulang - flower, loreyu - helocordian, skxawng - moron, Toruk Makto - toruk rider, Palulukun Makto - thanator rider, Tsahik - clan spiritual leader, Nga yawne lu oer - i love you, tsakarem - successor to the tsahik, ‘tewng - loincloth, nantang - viperwolf, paysyuls - water lily, eanean - blue plant, tanhi - bioluminescent freckle, uniltìranyu - dream walker, tìyawn - love

credits for dividers: leafs (x) green line (x)

[carolmunson]

once bitten, twice shy (pbv!steve x f!thick reader)

finally, we made it. been writing this since october with breaks in between. if you're new to the pbv!steve universe (which is just an incredibly wealthy big money version of steve), i'd recommend reading 'peanut butter vibe' first.

here, steve invites his thick hottie bestie (you, who we're calling natalie because i HATE 'y/n') to his office holiday party. this fic has everything: sugardaddy!steve, casual dominance, office sex, unrequited love, some guy named rob -- anyway, enjoy. warnings/content prev: piv sex (protected), fingering/oral (f receiving), mentions of oral (m receiving) some angst/unrequited feelings, casual dominance, light spanking, office sex, sort of a 'boss' kink?? idk what to call it, rich people behavior, snide comments about thick!reader but not really about her body, some body descriptions but nothing wild, mentions of clothing sizes, lots of fluff, steve is a hot hot hottie throughout. little christmas light dividers by @newlips

“Is it fancy?” you ask, “I don’t really have anything to wear to a cocktail party.”

“Is it fancy?” you ask, “I don’t really have anything to wear to a cocktail party.”

“Is it fancy?” you ask, “I don’t really have anything to wear to a cocktail party.”

“I’ll take you to get something tomorrow,” he insists.

“I can buy my own dress, Steve,” you sigh, he can hear the eye roll through the phone.

“Yeah, yeah, everyone in Indiana knows you can buy your own dress, Manhattan, we get it,” Steve’s eye roll is even more audible than yours, “But you only have to get one because I’m asking you to come to this party. Let me get it for you.”

“Steve,” you scold, “No.”

“I have to finish shopping anyway — don’t you still have to finish getting gifts for your niece? We can go to the mall, two birds one stone!” he quickly adds. He hopes the thought of your niece’s tiny toes in some new little socks or a cute little outfit will soften you up.

“The mall is going to be a mess, Steve. It’s the weekend before Christmas,” you complain.

“We can go to a boutique or something,” he counters, determined to get you in a dress so you had no reason not to go to this party.

“Boutiques in Indiana aren’t making dresses for girls like me, Harrington,” you laugh, he doesn’t. He’s quiet for a moment until you hear his signature aggravated sigh come through the ear piece.

“You can just say you don’t wanna come,” his voice sounds slightly sullen, “Just wanted to show you the office, since you won’t get a chance to see it after I move.”

“It’s not that I don’t wanna come, Steve,” you say softly, “It’s just..it’s what it implies.”

“It doesn’t have to imply anything! Can’t you just come have fun with me? It’ll be so fun, I promise!” there’s a mild whine to his claim and you have to stifle a laugh.

Breaking News in Indiana: Poor little rich boy wants his big booty Barbie to play with at a party — throws minor tantrum when he might not get what he wants! "Fine, fine, Jesus Christ," you tease, "You're so annoying when you get whiny."

"So I'll pick you up in the morning? Is nine okay?" he asks, voice back to his regular charm. "Yeah, that's fine," you start, "Wait, we're not taking the Porsche to the mall, are we?" "Uh, yeah?" he replies, confused, "Did you want me to take a different car?" "Ugh, Steve that's so tooly," you moan, "You're such a tool."

"I'm about to uninvite you," he huffs, "Do you want me to buy you something pretty tomorrow or--" "I can buy my own dress," you yell over him. He lets out another aggravated sigh. "Tomorrow, nine, in the Porsche," he says finally, you hear the click of the dial tone as soon as he finishes speaking.

The Porsche rolls up at 8:58 and he knows better than to honk the horn, lest he wake your sister's newborn. Instead, he parks and walks up to the porch of your sister's house; knocking on the door and waiting for you with his hands clasped behind his back. When the door opens, he's surprised to see your mom behind it. She smiles, big and warm. She looks familiar, definitely a face in the stands at basketball games because your older sister Carly was a cheerleader. She was a senior when you were both freshman, before Steve was King Steve. "Oh, hi. You must be Steven," she whispers, when the door opens further he spots your little niece propped up high on your mom's chest, "I'm Maureen. Come in, come in. S'way too cold to be standing out here." "Thanks, thank you," he smiles, the kind of smile that makes mom's melt. Steve takes a step inside and your mom steps back, patting the baby's back to burp her. He wipes his shoes on the welcome mat and undoes the buttons on his Hugo Boss wool coat. His cashmere scarf hung loosely over his shoulders down his chest. "I've heard so much about you. Nat should be out in a second," heat blooming in her cheeks, "Make yourself comfortable." Maureen disappears into the kitchen but he can hear the gurgles of your niece and your mom's little titters to her. He leans on the back of the couch, the house smells like you and his heart swells. So this is what it looks like when you go inside after he drops you off. This is where you go when you're not with him. It feels like a secret he's not supposed to know. "Oh, hi, you're in my house," his eyes snap up when he hears your voice. His teeth shine through his smile, he waves with a leather gloved hand. "Good morning," he says, his voice is low and warm. Your heartrate speeds up when he says it. It's awkward when you walk up to him, unsure if you should hug or kiss on the cheek. It's normally never awkward, but you're always meeting at the bar or in his car. He's never been so...available at the first greeting. You don't want to kiss in front of your mom because then she'll have questions. She already asks too many about Steve to begin with. He scans you, your white sweater and jeans, square toe brown boots on your feet. You reach for a black parka on the coat rack and a scarf that he recognizes as a polyblend. He makes a mental note to get you a cashmere one when you're not paying attention. "Good morning," you reply, shrugging the coat on and tossing the scarf around your neck sloppily. He walks towards you, tutting while he does, reaching out to flip your hair out from under the scarf. He readjusts the material so it lays neater against you, tucked in and under the jacket so you actually stay warm. "Gonna freeze if you don't wear it right," he sing songs, shaking his head while he works. "Okay dad," you roll your eyes, swatting his hands away when he goes to zip up your coat, "I can do it." You don't zip your parka up, instead you peek your head into the kitchen and whisper a quick goodbye to your mom and your niece. Maureen appears with the baby again and says a motherly goodbye and 'Merry Christmas' to Steve. "It's very nice to finally meet you, Maureen," he almost flirts, "Have a Merry Christmas." She winks at you when he turns towards the door, mouthing a very enthusiastic 'He's cute.'

You have half a mind to say, 'Yeah, he knows. That's what's so infuriating.' But you think it, instead. You opt to mouth a simple 'Stop,' at her before following him outside towards the car. "You're mom's so sweet," he says when he gets to the side walk from your porch, hand immediately coming out to support you down the icy steps, "Careful." "There's a railing," you explain, using him for support, "It's there so I don't fall." "Well, you're holding my hand anyway, so," he shrugs. You bristle at his coolness, always so slick even when it's innocent. He's so hateable, it's almost unfair how excited he makes you. "As I was saying," he starts again when you make it to the end of the stairs, "Your mom's so nice." "Maureen? Yeah, she's a sweetie," you agree when you get the passenger door. He reaches past you to open it, and in doing so has you chest to chest with him. He lingers there for a moment, looking at you down the slope of his nose. He cocks his head, eyes a little hard, lips pulling into a smirk. "So what happened to you, then?" he teases, lips dangerously close to yours. You catch your mom peaking out of the living room window and sink down into the open door onto the leather seat. "Shut up," you huff, "You're not funny." "I'm so funny," he corrects, shutting the door, appearing on the drivers side moments later. "The stores don't open for at least an hour," you say, buckling into the seat, "Why'd you wanna leave so early?" "Thought we could get breakfast first," he shrugs, looking your over in the passengers side. He bites his lip, eyes flitting from your thighs to your face, "You look nice."

"It's nine in the morning Harrington, keep it in your pants," you shove his shoulder and he grins while he puts his attention back on the road, pulling forward away from the sidewalk. "It's 9:07 actually," he says, aloof, hand resting on your inner thigh once he had his bearings on the road infront of him, "You're so warm." "Perks of big thighs, I guess," you shrug, "You're wearing gloves though, I think that helps." "Nah, your thighs are just warm," he grins again, "Haven't had to buy ear muffs for the last five years cause'a them."

"You're so gross," you turn to him as you say it, exasperated. The car rolls to a stop at a redlight and he turns to look at you. "I'm so gross, huh?" he asks, leaning in. His hand floating from your thigh to under your chin. The leather is smooth on your skin, you can smell his cologne as he moves closer, "S'that why you want me to kiss you so bad?" "I think you wanna kiss me so bad," you tease back. His lips catch yours, fingers gently wrapping around your jaw as they do. The leather sinks into your full cheeks, flush from the cold and the way his mouth fits against yours. His nose bumps your cheek and your ungloved hand finds his, you can feel the smoothness from his shave this morning. Smell his moisturizer, his shaving cream. Taste the mint from his mouth wash in your mouth. A soft hum leaks from your chest and you feel him smile into the kiss before he breaks away, the light turning green against the white cloudy sky. "You're right, I did wanna kiss you so bad," he admits. His hand falls right back on your thigh, hitting the gas to pull onto the highway.

You'd been at it for a couple of hours now, store after store, the mall littered with families and screaming children. "We can go to the west wing. I don't know why you keep avoiding it," he chides. He puts all the shopping bags you've both already accumulated into the hand furthest from you, offering you the empty one. You take it, your other hand empty since he wouldn't let you carry your own bags. "That's the nice part of the mall," you say, "I don't want to spend that much on a dress for one night."

"Then it's a good thing you're not spending any money on it," he smiles. "Steven," you chide, "Enough, pl--" "Don't use that voice with me. I told you a thousand times I want to get you something pretty. So we're getting you something pretty," he urges, "Let's go." The west wing has all the fancy stores in it. Luxury brands, far stretches from Kay Jewelers and JC Penney. You aren't sure if they even carry your size in stores like this, but maybe you'll be surprised. It's not long before he has you in a dressing room, working with the attendants and tossing dress after dress in behind the curtain. Steve sits on one of the waiting area couches with the rest of the men. Your purse and coat is on his lap, the shopping bags resting between his feet. You poke your head out after the fourth dress, looking for an attendant but they're all busy. He notices your nervous face and waves to get your attention. "Need help?" he asks. You flush. "Can you get this zipper for me? It's not a side zipper so I can't reach," you ask. He nods, slinging your purse over himself with the cross body strap, asking the guy next to him to watch the bags with a quick 'Would you mind, chief? Thanks a million.' He comes up to the curtain and sees the front of the dress, red bursting to his cheeks, tinging his ears, "Good fucking lord." "Oh stop it," you blush back. You turn around and zips up the dress, some resistance meeting at the top. You walk closer to the mirror and inspect yourself, scrunching your face at your reflecting. "You don't like it?" he asks with a frown. "It's just not me," you shrug, "It's a little tight, and I don't want to be thinking about that the whole time, y'know?"

He nods, looking over his shoulder to see a dress on the 'put away' rack, dark green and off the shoulder. The style a mix between Herve Leger and vintage Dior. "Ma'am," he calls out when he sees an attendant walk by, "Would you mind pulling that dress for me? The green one?" She scans her hand over the rack and points at it, reading out the size. "That's perfect, actually," he smiles, that winning Harrington smile that makes the girls melt, "Thank you." "You're very welcome," she says sweetly, posture straightening when she brings it over. You peak back out and he turns you around to start the zipper down on the number you'd just tried on. "You look so good in green, try this one," he says, passing it to you, "Very Hawkins High." You hold it up in front of you and consider, it's a bodycon but still somehow classic looking. A velvet piece that you wouldn't have picked out yourself. "Hm, okay, I'll try it," you say, turning to him with a furrowed brow, "Now get out, perv." He smiles, closing the curtain carefully and retreating back to the couches, "Thanks for watching the bags, man." The guy smiles, "Us husbands gotta look out for each other, right?"

Steve bites his lip in a toothy grin, nodding, "Yeah, for sure."

"How long you been married?" he asked. "Few years," he lies, it's fun to lie when people have asked about you before. He'd get comments every now and again at Porter's, have chats with bar stoll warmers about you like you'd been together forever. "Few years? You look like babies," he laughs, the gray smattered in the man's hair shines in the pristine white lights of the store. "When you know, you know," Steve shrugs. The man nods, "They do say that, don't they? Well, I'll give ya a little advice. Fifteen years down the line, here -- they aren't lying when they say 'happy wife, happy life'. So just, y'know, do whatever she says and you're golden." "Great advice, honey," a woman's voice coo's above them. Steve sees her Vivienne Westwood shoes first, head tilting up to see a very expensive woman in front of him. She has a few dresses in her hand that he immediately stands up and takes from her. "Merry Christmas, kid," he says while they head out, the wife nods toward Steve in acknowledgement and he gives them a small wave. "Oh Steve, this is it, this is the one," you say, stepping out of the dressing room with the dress in your arm, the 'no's' in the other. His shoulders slump, "You didn't even let me see it."

"It'll be a surprise. You'll see it tomorrow night," you smile. He instinctively gets up and takes the dresses you don't want to hang up them for you on the rack. You exchange them for your purse and jacket, scarf previously abandoned in a shopping bag. "You all set to go? You have any other shopping you wanna do?" you ask.

"Hmm," he thinks, "Let's stop by jewelry first."

"Something for your mom?" you ask, putting your parka back on. "Something for you," he says, "To go with that dress."

"No, no, I have jewelry at home. I'll ask my mom if I can borrow something," you wave your hand off at him while you walk out of the dressing area and back into the store together. "Hey, hey," he shushes you, raising his neck to look into your eyes, "Let me spoil you a little, okay?"

"You already got me a new scarf and gloves," you say earnestly, "It's too much, Steve."

"You needed a new scarf and gloves," he says knowingly, "Let's get you a necklace to go with that dress, hm? You need shoes, too?" "I'm drawing the line at shoes," you warn, putting your purse over yourself while you walk through the beauty section, "I brought plenty of shoes with me."

He shrugs, "Suit yourelf."

Monday night comes quicker than expected, but you'd stayed the night at Steve's after shopping, only to wake up in the late morning with him the next day. You'd been up late fucking mercilessly wrapping gifts with each other, teaching him how to curl ribbon, watching him fold wrapping paper with obscene precision. The only reason you went home is because he had to go into the office to finish up some reports. You arrive around seven-thirty, a little late but still there, heels clicking on the marble floor of the lobby -- and there he is, waiting for you behind the turnstyles to the elevators -- suit jacket fitting him almost criminally.

"Fashionably late?" he teases, opening the side gate to let you through to him, "Everyone thinks my date stood me up."

"Oh, I'm sure your secretary will be so disappointed to know I'm here," you joke back.

"I don't fuck my secretary," he shakes his head, hitting the call button, "I fuck Rob's secretary. God, do you ever listen to me when I talk?"

Rob, Steve's work nemesis.

"Oh forgive me, there's so only many office flings I can keep up with," you say, stepping into the elevator. You take off your scarf from under your coat, revealing the necklace Steve bought you at the mall. He smiles to himself, seeing your adorned by his gifts. The scarf, the necklace, the gloves. He's excited to see the dress, it's all he thought about today. When you get the floor of the party, you wince a bit at the noise. It's rowdy, a lot of the men are already drunk. And boy is it, fancy. Men in suits, women is cocktail dresses in sky-high heels, hair in big blowouts with glowing gold and silver jewelry. You're suddenly thankful for the necklace Steve bought you. You'd been around your fair share of fancy in New York, but never really living it outside of your own work holiday parties. Sometimes you forget that this is Steve's day to day. "The actual offices are the next floors up, this is just our meeting hall. They really go all out, huh?" he smiles, "Let me bring you to coat check." On the walk to coat check you scan the room, it's decked out in gold and red. Ten foot Christmas trees sit in every corner, draped in garland, ribbon, and tinsel. Lights leaving a soft glow out of the floor to ceiling windows of the room. Intricately placed curtains of warm white christmas lights hang from the ceiling, dress the walls and windows. The room is a halo, glowing and warm. In the center of the room is the open dance floor, flanked by tables covered in white cloths -- drinks already littering them. Speakers boom top 40 and Christmas music, chatter and laughter booms over it.

"Here, let me get it," he says when you reach the coat check area, a little set up of a few racks with a sweet woman at a table, writing out tickets for you to keep track of for the end of the night. He undoes the buttons of your coat and you shrug it off slowly. His eyes round and he gulps, mouth going dry at the sight of you.

"Jesus Christ," he breathes out, pulling your coat back over you, "You can't be serious rigt now."

"What?" you ask, suddenly self concious, "Does it look bad?"

"No, oh my god, no, it's..." he pulls your coat away again and sucks in a sharp intake of breath, "If I knew you were gonna look like this, I wouldn't have let you wear it here. Can't have everyone looking at you when you're here with me."

He looks you over, the way your breasts sit in the sweetheart neckline, how tightly it clings to your curves, the shape of your hipes, the outline of your belly in the fabric. He licks his lips, knowing he's not strong enough to see you from the back just yet.

"God damn," he shakes his head, "You're gonna kill me." "Well, you look very handsome too," the compliment is genuine but it doesn't register for him. He's busy looking at your glossed lips, the necklace places perfectly above your chest, the smell of your perfume. He licks his lips and your words finally hit him, so does the feeling of the fabric of your coat in his hands. "Th-thank you," he smiles, "Thanks." He checks your jacket and gives the lady at the table a $20 even though the coat check is free. Waiters walk around with hor d'ourves and drinks and he reaches for the champagne flutes, nodding to you to see if you want one. "It's kind of chilly, is there coffee or anything?" you ask, running your hands over your arms. "There's hot toddy's," he says, "They're by the bar but you don't like whiskey."

"I can pretend to like it for right now," you smile, he smiles back, placing his champagne flute on a table that he'd been sat at earlier, your name card placed on the seat next to him. He takes your hand and leads you to the bar, running his own hands over arms to warm you up while you wait behind a small line of people.

"This is pretty," you tell him, "Looks like everyone is having a good time."

"Half of these guys have been drinking since four," he laughs a little, "I'd hope they're having a good time."

"Oh, Harrington, is this her?" you hear a gruff voice ask. Steve's arm sling protectively around your waist at the sound. "This is she," he says back, he presents you like a trophy to him. His best Vanna White while he scans a hand over you to show you off. "Rob Delaney," he smiles, a smile that rivals Steve's, and offers his hand. He is devilishly handsome, no wonder Steve hates him so much, "You must be the girl that's got Harrington running to the big city."

"I think it's the pay raise that has him running to the big city, but thank you," you giggle, shaking his hand. It's a firm shake, a businessman's shake. You feel the chill of his gold pinky ring brush against your skin. "Pretty thing like you got a name?" he flirts, you feel Steve pull you closer, his hand splaying at the curve of your waist. Your face heats up at the feeling, knowing he doesn't like sharing you even though you weren't his to begin with. "Natalie," you smile. "Natalie," he repeats, giving you a once over, "Pretty name for a pretty girl." "Well, thank you," you say politely, letting go of his hand. He puts his own in his pants pocket, smiling at the both of you. "It's nice to meet you. Save me a dance, will ya?" he smirks when he asks.

"Don't know how free I'll be for a dance, Delaney," Steve replies with a tight voice, ffingers digging into the velvet of your dress, "She's kinda got me tied up all night. Maybe next time." Rob nods, biting back at snicker before walking away with his drink. "See, angel, this dress is dangerous," Steve says in your ear, you hold back from having your eyes roll back in your head at the feeling of his voice in your chest. He orders your hot toddy and a whiskey on the rocks for himself, you nurse it slowly back to the table -- the drink is strong and the food here is light. You feel lucky you ate dinner before you left or else this night would've been ten times more dangerous than the dress you were wearing.

An hour and two hot toddies later and you're chatty at the table with Steve's work friends. He glows while he watches you, the way you are able to blend in so seamlessly with everything. Like you've known these people longer than he has.

"And so I'm still on the phone after he puts me on hold for thirty minutes," you continue through gasps and giggles, the whole table is crying with laughter, "And -- and he comes back and is like, "Oh ma'am, I'm so sorry. Did you say L'Oreal? I thought this was the Oriole's marketing office!"

The table erupts in laughter, feet stomping, glasses clinking while men bang on the table. The women dab tears away with their napkins. Business talk, business jokes. Two big kids in their parents clothes again, at a fancy office party that they don't need to go to.

"Oh god," Steve's co-worker says, face red with liquor and laughter, "That is fuckin' marketing for you. I'm gonna go get a drink, you all want another round?" The group at the table nods, but Steve waves off a no for both of you. 'Last Christmas' flows through the speakers and some people have found their way to the dance floor. He takes the hand resting on your lap and gives it a light squeeze to get your attention. "Hey," you say, turning towards him.

"Hey," he says back, thumb brushing your skin, "You wanna dance with me?" You blush, nodding when he stands up. He's almost too charming, who are you to say no to him.

“Happy Christmas, I wrapped it up and sent it — with a note saying I loved you, I meant it —” Steve mouthed along with the words dramatically, guiding you to the dance floor on gliding backwards feet. His hips swayed expertly — surprising since he didn’t strike you as much of a dancer. You saw him at many a homecoming dance, he was not incredibly impressive in the 80s.

“Now I know, what a fool I’ve been, but if you kiss me now, I know you’d fool me again,” he sings along softly while he pulls you into him. His hand presses against your lower back until you’re chest to chest, hips against his hips, holding your other hand outside the both of you. Your face burns in the low light, noticing the other couples on the dance floor — women with engagement rings and wedding bands, women introduced as ‘my girlfriend _____’ who would be fiancés soon.

“When did you get so good at dancing?” you ask, looking up at him.

“This year to save me from tears — been going to a lot of weddings — give it to someone special,” he explained through his soft singing, “Got good at dancing so I could pick up bridesmaids. What about you?”

You scoff at his answer before answering yourself, "I was always a good dancer, Steve."

"How was I supposed to know?" he shrugged. Hair falls in his face when he leans forward to brush his nose against yours, his tell that he wants to kiss you.

"Should've danced with you at prom," he mumbles, resting his forehead down on yours.

"I didn't go to prom," you smile, moving your head on his chest, "Wasn't really my thing." His hand travels from your lower back to just below your shoulder blades, holding you while you both sway in time with the music.

"What'd you do instead?" he asks, you can't help but giggle and he can feel it in his chest.

"Ugh, it's embarrassing," your face burns while you nuzzle into the lapel of his jacket.

"It was years ago, c'mon," he urges, “Tell me.”

You look up at him and scrunch your nose, “I let Eddie Munson take my V-card that night.”

Steve gasps, you want to punch him in his perfect teeth.

“Right on his stained mattress at his uncle's,” you laugh and scrunch your nose harder.

“Oh, no…” he laughs, a twinge of jealously plucks in his chest, “Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson?”

“I mean he was a different kind of freak for me,” you shrug and Steve presses you even closer, feeling your breats and tummy squish against him. Warm and soft.

“Any good?” he asks, trying to make it casual. But even if it was so long ago, he had to know. "Good for seventeen," you shrugged, "And eighteen, and nineteen, and twenty. Then Corrded Coffin took off and he left."

"So you kept fucking him when you'd come back for breaks?" he laughs.

"It's a long winter break, Harrington," you explained, "I had a life before you, y'know."

"Yeah, but, was it a good one?" he squints when he asks, so you know he's joking. You roll your eyes at him, anyway. While George Michael wails, Steve can't help himself while looking at you in the low light. His body so close to yours he could barely breathe correctly. His hand skates up the the top of your back to your neck, pulling you in for a kiss that only both of your lips understand. Sharing secrets with eachother through clicks of spit, soft breaths, and swipes of tongue. If it weren't for the hot toddies, you'd never let him kiss you like this with people around. When you break away, he's breathless. "You look so good tonight," he confesses, the hand holding yours leaving to meet your cheek, "Can't stop lookin' at you." "Well thank you for the dress," you smile, "It's all you."

"Fits you like a glove," he smirks, "No lines or anything."

You blush but he can't tell, "Well I'm not wearing anything under this so that's why."

Steve chokes, sputtering, astounded at how you can say that to him so casually. The whole time he's had his hands on you, it's only been this flimsy velvet fabric keeping him from feeling your skin. All night you've been naked under this -- and you're just telling him now?

"Uh -- um," his voice cracks, "Do you uh, um, you wanna see my -- um, my office?" "I don't know, is it interesting?" you ask with a laugh. His hands skate down to your ass, the whiskey in your system tells you its okay when he lets his palms roam the mass of it. "Can make it so interesting for you," he says, lips brushing yours, "So, so interesting."

His hands and lips are on you the moment you step into the elevator and the doors close. His tongue runs a flat stripe over your collar bone, over the twenty four karat gold chain around your neck, following your jugular until he gets to your job.

"Your quarterly review came in," he murmurs in your ear, hand skating up your dress to tease you. Fingers brushing over your inner thighs, creeping slowly upward while you whine, "It's abysmal."

The doors ding open and he pulls you by the hand down the hall to the corner office. The windows show off the Indianapolis skyline, buildings glittering from floor to ceiling. There were packing boxes littered around, leather chairs and a couch cross from his desk for meetings. A bar cart left abandon in the corner with a large oak desk in the center. "Abysmal?" you reply innocently while he shuts the door behind you, "Does that mean I'm gonna get fired?"

He finally gets a good view of you from behind and bites his fist bringing the other hand down hard with a loud CRACK! against your ass. He smirks to himself with you yelp. "It might," Steve sinks down into the chair behind his desk, beckoning you over with a finger.

“Wanna keep your job?” he asks with a sly smirk, the authority building in his chest.

“Yes, Mr. Harrington," you playfully whisper. "Then show me," he sighs, reaching for his belt. The clink of the metal on the buckle being undone sent a shiver through you. He stayed relaxed in his office chair, pulling out his length to pump it lazily in his fist.

"Don't be such a tease," he scolds while you stand there, gaping at his cock, feeling behind you to twist the lock on the door.

"Steve! You can't just -- you're at work!" you gasp, eyebrows raised in genuine surprise.

"You just locked the door," he shrugged, "They're all downstairs, c'mon just -- please, come suck my dick. It's already out."

“You’re insane,” you laugh, “We have to go back out there eventually, Harrington.”

“I promise I won’t mess up your makeup,” he pleads, a soft grunt escaping his lips while he quickens his pace on his cock.

“So, I suck your dick,” you start, walking slowly back towards his desk, “And what do I get?”

“Baby, in that dress, you can have anything you want,” he gasps as he runs his thumb over his leaking tip, watching your hips sway while you continuing your slow strut toward him.

“Want me to fuck you instead?” he asks, “God, fuck, bend over the desk. I’ll fuckin’ give it to you.”

“Very forward, Mr. Harrington,” you coo, slowly reaching for the hem of your dress, “Can I keep my job if I let you fuck me?” "Keep your job?" he pants while you bend over in front of him, hem slowly rising over your thighs, "Give you the whole--whole fucking c-company." Your dress slips over the curve of your ass, legs taught and flexed while balancing your weight on your tall heels.

"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck," he whispers while he stands, still fucking his fist while he does it, "Your body's just...shit, you're so...I wish you could see how you look."

He clumsily reaches for the middle drawers on the side of his desk, hastily fishing into a half empty box of condoms. You can't stifle the laugh that bubbles out of your chest, "How many people are you fucking in here, Steve?"

"Shh, just shut up," he huffs while he quickly works the latex over his shaft. "Well excuse me," you murmur, bracing yourself while he puts one hand on your hip. The other dips between your legs, pressing against your entrance. "You nice and wet for me?" he asks gently, soaking his fingers in his mouth and coating your opening with a mix of your slick and his spit. "Y-yeah," you say breathily, rocking back onto his hand. Steve smirks, feeling your walls puff and twitch as his touch. You feel his length slide between your thighs, hand guiding his tip to drag across your folds, parting them as he pushes in just an inch or two. You hiss at the intrustion, you were wet but not relaxed. The let downs of not having enough time for foreplay. He runs a calming hand down your back over your dress. "Sorry, I'm sorry," he soothes, "I'll go slow." You feel his hips slowly pull out and push in again, coaxing your walls to start accomdating him. You part your legs a little, the arch in your back matching the porn stars in 'SLUTS AND CEOS XXX' videos you were sure Steve had seen before. Slickness builds between your legs while he pushes his hips in and out again, more and more of his length getting sucked in. You hear him groan when it gets all the way to the hilt.

"So tight..." he grumbles. It was almost uncomfortable for him, he knew you were turned on enough, "You feeling okay?"

"Yeah, sort of," you nod, wincing, "Hurts a little."

"Sorry," he apologizes again while running a hand through his hair, "Lemme...hm..." You hiss again when he pulls out, looking back to see him get to his knees while his hands grip your thighs. Steve just goes for it. His tongue immedately making contact with your entrance. "Steve, oh..." your eyes roll back when he parts your lips with his thumbs, tongue gliding forward to your clit while his fingers find home inside of you. "There we go," he chuckles darkly, "Did she just need a little somethin' extra from me?" "Oh, shit, that's so good," you whisper, covering your mouth to stop your whimpers escaping from under his office door. His fingers pumped like pistons inside of you, teasing your g-spot just enough to get you dripping down your thighs. "Think it'll be okay now?" he asks, his hand meeting your hip while he gets back to full height. "Mhm," you gulp when you feel his head push in, and then the rest of him. Much easier this time around. "Fuuuuck, me," he groans, his hips rolling in steady thrusts against you. You cover your mouth harder, moans caught in your throat, in your palm, threatening to ricochet of the high ceilings of his office. "Better, baby? That feel good?" he asks, his voice clouded behind breathy grunts. You were still tighter than normal, and while that was great, he'd fucked you enough times to know when something wasn't working. "Really good, Steve," you whine through gritted teeth. His speed picks up, the skin of his thighs clapping loudly against the backs of yours. Steve's thrusts are shallow, hitting deeper and deeper until you're on the toes of your heels. "Look--oh fucking fuck--Look back at me," he pleads, "Wanna see you." You oblige and he sighs at the sight of you, reaching forward to move your hair away from you, "So pretty for me."

Steve never looked at the girls he was fucking in his office. It was always just to get off, to feel good after a rough meeting. To let off some steam after his underlings fucked up yet another sale. New secretaries, mail girls, office assistants, you name it -- all he had to do is wink and they'd be bent over his desk by lunch. "I'm close," he admits with a blush, "S'just...mmm fuck, s'what you do to me." "That's okay," you smile, his hand reaching forward again to touch your face. "Been hard since you fuckin'--oh shit, Christ--since you got here," his brows are furrowed while he watches you. Swollen wet lips letting out soft moans while he pumps into you. God, he'd do anything to keep you like this -- wet and ready for him. You catch his hand, pressing kisses to his fingertips, eyeing him mischeviously while you do it.

"D-don't, you're gonna m-make me---" he warns, another groan taking over while you slip his first and middle finger into your mouth. Sucking expertly, your lipstick smearing on his knuckles. "J-just need s-something in your mouth, hm?" his face contorts, brows furrowing while he clamps his eyes down. Whatever authority he had in his voice falls into boyish whines when your tongue swirls between his fingers. It's a sensation he didn't know he'd like so much, having his fingers sucked on while he was buried inside you. Something about the warm wetness of your mouth. The dirtiness of it. The way you'd wink at him while you did. He took his fingers out with a sharp inhale of breath, trying to stave off his orgasm. Instead, he uses them to wrench your hair back, your chest arching off the desk. The sound of your cry would definitely be heard a few doors down if anyone else was around. You involuntarily clench down on him, gushing. "Oh I see, you want me to be a little mean?" he asks against your neck, open palm coming down against your ass again, "Put you in your place?"

"In my p-place? Please. I thought I was getting the whole c-company?" you ask slyly, turning back to face him against the hold in your hair, "Isn't that what you promised...?"

You raise your eyebrows at him, mocking his own approach to the edge, mouth gaping. "Isn't that what you p-promised, Mr. Harrington?"

He gasps, hips stuttering while his grip in your hair slacks and clutches your shoulder. Gutteral groans flow from his throat, a string of expletives pour from his mouth. Gasps of phrases like, "My little office whore...fucking Jesus, my perfect girl...Pretty -- oh god -- pretty baby..." Steve slows his thrusts to nothing, heaving his breaths until they steady and leaning forward to rest his forehead on your back. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, "You didn't..." "I didn't," you shake your head, "But it's okay."

"It's not okay," he says while pulling out, carefully removing the condom and tossing it in the trash can under his desk. "Gross, Steve," you admonish, standing up. You adjust your dress while turning to face him and he frowns, "Someone has to clean that up."

"Don't put your dress down, let me --" he reaches for the hem, but you stop him.

"Steve, it's fine. We have to go back downstairs, they're gonna know you're missing," you smile while you say it, "They're loving you down there."

"I'll make it up to you later," he promises, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, "Wake up all the neighbors when we get home tonight."

"Whatever you say, Harrington," you roll your eyes while you get to the door, clicking the lock. You both make your way to the bathroom when you leave his office, making quick work of cleaning up. He waits for you against the wall across from the door, your purse in his hand. "Hi," he smiles, when you exit, "Missed you."

You scoff, reaching for your purse and fishing out a compact to touch up your lipstick and powder. He walks next to you while you touch up, arm slinging around your waist while he does.

"You're gonna make me mess it up," you say, swiping a line of color over your lips. "I already messed it up back there," he shrugs while the elevator doors ding open, "What's a second time?" He pushes you up against the elevator wall when the doors close behind you, "Or a third time?" You hum into his kiss, hungry and touchy, feeling yourself swell between your legs.

Another drink and an hour on the dance floor later and you're back at the table while the guys chat with cigars on the opposite side of the room. Steve stands with a hand in his pocket, cocky and confident, while he talks with his work friends -- you're sure about something he doesn't really care about. Mergers and acquistions.

"He sent Rob's secretary three dozen roses as a goodbye gift," one of the women at the table behind you said to another. "Oh, you know he just did that to piss him off," her friend replied, "Muffy told me she doesn't even like him like that. It's all been for fun."

"He told her to come visit him in New York any time," she shrugged, "But he stopped sleeping with her earlier this month cause he said he's got himself a girl in the city."

"Can't believe he's going to New York for some girl," she complains, "He stopped flirting with everyone. But you know what? Good riddance, he's fucking boring now. Hot but boring." "It's not the girl he brought tonight, right?" the other woman asks, "That's gotta be a friend from school or something. She's not very New York looking, pretty home grown if you ask me."

It doesn't bother you, but your shoulders tense a little. In your own little world with Steve was one thing, but to hear people confirm your slight fears about what the future could hold was another. You couldn't deny the sinking feeling in your chest every time you remembered he was moving to New York. Moving into your life in a way you'd never had him before. Disrupting the whole life you built there by yourself, a place you've been able to call home without anyone from your real home to bother you. 'Got himself a girl', since when? Weren't you just having fun? Before you can get too lost in your thoughts, he's coming towards you with your coats in his arms, holding yours out in front of him. "You wanna get outta here, baby?" he asks, there's a slight slur to his words that makes you laugh. "Sure," you smile. You hear a soft 'Oh, shit,' come from the table behind you. "You need me to find a phone to call for a car?" you ask him. He shakes his head, "No, they'll call one for us downstairs." You put on your coats, led around for a flurry of goodbyes before heading back into the elevator to the lobby. He takes your hand immeidately, leading you to the front desk to ask for a car before taking you outside to wait. "You have fun?" he asks, pulling you in to hold you, protecting you from the cold. "Oh, a lot of fun," you smile, "You brought your dancin' shoes, for sure." "Had to, since you're so nice to dance with," he smiles, hands dropping from your arms to laces fingers with yours. You smile, but he notices there's something off about it, not as genuine, "You okay?"

"Oh yeah, yeah, fine," you shake your head, "Just thinkin'."

"Yeah, I've been thinkin' too and um..." he starts, looking down, brows furrowing, "Thinking about you and uh--"

"What did you mean the other night, on the phone? When you said 'It's what it implies'?" he asks, thumb gliding idly against your gloved hand. One of his co-workers came bumbling through the revolving door, eyes glazed over with the buzz of alcohol. You dropped his hand before whoever this was could register it, embarrassment buzzing through you. If the women were talking about you, you couldn't imagine what the men were saying.

"Hey man, goodnight -- good to see you and uh -- yeah g-good luck if oh, shit I'm so fucked up dude -- good luck if I don't see you," he slurred, pulling Steve in for a hug. "Thanks, Jack. Easy there, buddy," Steve rolled his eyes at you from over his shoulder before he let go, "You're not driving tonight, right?"

Jack shakes his head and laughs, leaning against are large stone sqaure pillar. His eyes semi-follow the figure of a beautiful woman in a maroon dress pushing through the revolving door.

"Jack, let's go," she calls, like a mother to a son. She waves him over with her clutch, engagement ring glinting in the buildings facades.

"That's my ride," he smiles, stumbling over to her. They take eachother's hand and she offers an apology over her shoulder, saying goodnight to Steve and smiling at you.

"Sorry about that,” Steve says apologetically, reaching for your hand again, “You we’re saying.”

“Just that,” you stuttered, unable to find the right words to say to explain it, “I don’t know Steve. I’m not like — I don’t — This isn’t — ugh..”

“Take your time, Manhattan,” he teases. You don’t want to hurt him, especially not when he smiles at you like that.

“Bringing me here,” you start, “In this dress you bought me, in this necklace. Dancing with me, taking me to your office. It’s making people think we’re together.”

“Are we not?” Steve asked, his brows furrowing, “Cause I thought that — like, we talked about — have you been sleeping with other people?”

“No, Steve, I haven’t,” you shake your head, keeping your voice calm, “But I’m not going around telling people that you’re my boyfriend.”

Steve’s face drops a little, some pink rising in his cheeks that isn’t coming from the cold, “Oh.”

“I thought you liked me,” Steve confessed, “That you, y’know — that you wanted me. That you liked me the way I like you.”

“I do like you, Steve,” you tell him, your hand resting on his chest, “But what if this isn’t what you really want? What if this is just fun for now?”

"I mean, I -- I uprooted my whole life for you," Steve argues, "I'm moving to New York in a week and a half."

"I didn't ask you to do that for me. You wanted to do something new," you calmly explained back, "I said I thought it would be a good idea."

"You said we could try it for real..." his voice got weak, caught in his throat. Steve's amber eyes rounding while he looks at you, how the street lights dance across the jewelry he bought you, the gloss on your lips.

"When you got there," you corrected, "And what if you get there and that's not what you want anymore? There's a lot to offer guys like you in the city, Steve. It's a totally different world than the one I'm living in."

"I can bring you into it with me," he pleads, hands sneaking under your coat and finding your waist.

"Steve..." you say knowlingly, your shoulders sinking. Your fingers reach up and brush his hair out of his face, delicately following the line of his cheek.

"Nat, please, I..." his voice trails off when he realizes what he's about to say. You watch his Adam's apple bob while he swallows the words.

"Don't say it," you whisper softly, shaking your head, "You don't mean it."

A cab finally pulls in, and you take a glance at it over your shoulder. "I'm gonna go home, okay?" you ask. You turn to pull out of his hold, but he pulls you in desperately.

"Natalie..." disappointment soaks your name when he says it, "Just -- c'mon. We can forget this whole conversation. Please, come home with me."

You shake your head no.

"Please?" he begs, pulling you a little closer to him, "Please?"

You lean in to kiss him, taking him all in. His cologne, the way his lips taste, the way he moves his hands from your waist to your jaw. He wants to keep you there forever, pausing his life for however long it took to get bored of how our lips feel against his. He doesn't think there's a time when he will.

You break away when the cab beeps, brushing your nose against his like he does to you, "I had a really nice time."

"Me too," Steve kisses your forehead, swallowing the lump in his throat when he accepts that you're not staying the night, "Call me a little later? So I know you made it in okay?"

"Of course," you promise. It hurts to look at him like that, tears shining in his eyes that he’s trying to blink away.

“Goodnight Steve,” you smile with your lips closed, afraid that if you open them you’ll never stop talking about all the things you’re afraid to talk to him about.

“Night,” he says while you turn to hurry towards the cab. As it drives away, you see him wipe at his nose and shake his head, crossing his arms tightly around himself to protect him from the cold now that you weren’t there to keep him warm.

Steve watches the cab leave with a lump in his throat, sniffling hard enough that the cold air burns the back of his throat. There's no way in hell you don't love him back, he thinks. There's no fucking way. When the red lights from the back of the cab disappear onto the city streets he turns back into the lobby, Last Christmas plays again softly over the speakers like it's mocking him. The tinny layments bouncing off the marble floor and back into his ears, down to his chest where his heart thumps painfully. Rob, and his secretary Muffy, stumble out of the elevator bank drunk with giggles and empty champagne flutes. He catches Steve walking towards the security desk and lets out a hearty laugh. "You goin' home alone Harrington?" he asks with a grin, "Shoulda let me know, would've brought your friend along. Three's company, huh?" Steve's jaw ticks but he ignores him, letting the gush of cold air soothe over his mixture of sadness and frustration while Muffy and Rob open the door. His shoes click on the marble as he approaches the desk, the music taunts him as he does it. 'A face of a lover with a fire in his heart, a man undercover but you tore me apart...'

"Can I help you with anything else, Mr. Harrington?" the attendant asks. Steve sighs, the breath comes out in a shudder, "Would you mind calling me another cab?" "Right away," he says warmly. Steve appreciates the kindness, he wishes he got the man a goodbye card. The sound of the phonecall for the car is muffled as Steve thinks about how it felt to dance with you, the warmth of your skin, your giggles at the mall, the way you kissed him goodmorning in his bed earlier. He swallows, tears pooling in his eyes. 'But the very next day, you gave it away. This year, to save me from tears, I'll give it to someone special. Special -- someone --' "Car should be here shortly."

"Thanks man, thanks so much," Steve says without turning around to face him. He wipes at his eyes with gloved hand, heading back into the cold to wait for the cab.

Alone.

[throwaway-yandere]

hello, hello! i wanted to drop by to say that your kaveh + dr ratio fic was amazing. i only finished reading it just now, so excuse me if i sound like i consumed excessive sugar but anyway— i adore the way you played around with the concept of "expy"!! at the start of the fic, i already know that something was gonna tie both ratio and kaveh together (although i don't think we were made aware of ratio's intentions at first besides hints here and there??) but man, reading it till the end filled me with catharsis. it felt so good, everything was so neatly tied and weaved together. you did such a marvelous job. also, one of my favorite parts about the fic were the flashbacks veritas had about him and his (y/n). i think those were crucial in giving us a solidified view about the relationship between them and not to mention, the little 'lie' he did. ANDDD OH OH i loved the way you wrote kaveh's dialogue when he first saw his delam awake. something about how he stuttered/mumbled (?) in such relief made me feel like i could feel his relief myself. this may be because you introduced his despair over our loss so well somewhere in the beginning, so thank you for that!!! or really, thank you for writing this delicious fic in general.

anywho, i think i've said far too much on here but i just had to— wishing you a good day/evening! AND SORRY FOR THE RAMBLE.

[From this Yandere!Kaveh &/vs Yandere!Dr. Ratio x Reader]

Kaveh: What lie were they talking about?

Veritas: Nothing. Do not mind them.

Kaveh: If it's pertaining to (Y/n), I find that request difficult to follow.

[Author's notes utc]

Aight my turn to speak now HAJDJAIDIIW— DW DW I LOVE IT A LOT WHEN PEOPLE RAMBLE ABT MY FICS AAAHHHHHH TY TY TY!!!!!

Yeah it was meant not to be explicitly stated in the beginning what Ratio was up to (≡^∇^≡)!!! I just thought it'd be a nice "plot twist" when it's revealed Veritas also has a (Y/n) [although it's prolly obvs it was leading up to that haha].

His lie is actually pretty solid too. No one can deny or verify those claims. Not when he did leave those notes on (Y/n)'s computer [those quick little "Good morning, I love you. — R." messages he put in by hacking lol]. Not when he can say they were hiding their relationship. Doesn't help that his (L/n)'s colleagues can provide testimonies that they did use to be close enough to exchange jackets.

If Kaveh found out it's a lie there's no way in hell he'd allow Veritas to share you.

Speaking of our boy, Kaveh's parts are fun to write too. He nearly made me make the fic more sadder but my goal for these next fics is to be more lighthearted with a "willing"/compliant darling 😭😭😭 I love our boy very much. He doesn't have any will to go on but now he has something to get excited about and wake up for with you being here.

Aight I'll shut up now HAJSJAIISOQKA Ty ty ty (≧∇≦)/!!!!!

[vee-lociraptor]

@james-spooky had to get out my laptop for this one /pos. im so sorry if you notice the pattern where several of these are indeed written by my mutuals. my mutuals are really good writers i cannot help this. i will not be tagging any of them because im about to be so cringe on main about their work. under the cut because i accidentally rambled

SupposedToBeWriting on ao3 (organchordsandlightning on tumblr) is really good!! she has a very good characterization of both john and arthur (from what i know she usually portrays them platonically) and she describes things beautifully :) i hear really good things about her writing in general but in particular i have bookmarked - A Light in the Dark (set in s1, coma arthur) - alike and together (spoilers for part 29, very much love this one) - The Alleyway Monster (set vaguely part 6) - A Body Divided (crossover with the monstrous agonies podcast, which i do not know, but very silly and i enjoy it)

WordsINeedToGetOut on ao3 (gayghostrights on tumblr) also has great depictions of arthur and john and writes them more as like. not romantic not platonic not qpr but a secret fourth thing. very fun to read. they have some good sfw fic but if nsfw isnt your thing (and it very much is. not mine) mind their tags. - i specifically follow their "a family found and made" series it's. so nice. it's post canon but an au of sorts so there's not really spoilers - what does and does not fit (post-part 43 john doe poem im Very Normal about (i met him because i was being feral about it)) - again. please mind his tags.

dearcaspian on ao3 (lighthouseshepard on tumblr) is an absolutely phenomenal writer and i am not biased about this at all. please trust. in all seriousness his prose reads like poetry it's so nice to get to read it every time. i know waltz already recommended it but take it as peer review because no sweeter innocence is mind altering. i read all like 28,000 words of it at the time in one go at two in the morning kind of mind altering. (visibly shaking) it's. really good - other than that they write really good separate bodies jarthur fic that makes me feral - i dont even have specific recommendations all of it makes me sick. go forth. some of it is on his tumblr go get it. - i LIED a kind of quiet holy makes me more sick than a lot of the rest of it. call me touch starved if you want but i will say that on main

safe_ship_habored on ao3 (izel-scribbles on tumblr) only has a few works and mostly writes dollins at this point but they're really good! i think they've posted some exclusively on tumblr? can't think of anything specific right now but ik i've read the most toothaching john and arthur fluff /pos from them

i don't want to talk about this one. lea's going to see it. im going to do it anyway because it is my favorite malevolent fic and i feel you should know about it. there is a fic and it's on tumblr and it's called when the land was godless and free. it is by percymawce-arts and ananxiousgenz on tumblr. i am insane about it. it is a cowboy au and it is somewhat suggestive (moaning making out sort of thing) but the prose is so so good. the characterization and the way they translate malev characters into a western cowboy setting is phenomenal. it has catholic guilt in it. it has yearning. it's romantic jarthur and if it's not your thing i get it but percy and lea both really cooked on this one. i know i've posted about it on tumblr before. i am so aware that one of the authors is my mutual now lea don't look.

i am rambling so hard right now i have more. im not even done. im so sorry - styrofoamdoor (ao3 and tumblr) has a noel character study on their ao3 account and it's so good and i am thinking about it always. it's set post-episode 40. - ETA, never change by green_tea_and_honey SO silly and goofy and yet. also serious somehow. au where arthur has a phone and john messes around with it - come, wayward souls is also by green_tea_and_honey and i havent read it yet but it IS an over the garden wall crossover and i love that show so much - kiss me better is the only work i've read by SeerOfTime but i hear really good things about their malevolent fic so i will definitely be checking them out in the future