#but i felt like reckoning with their feelings and getting together was only the first step out of many for these two

[januaryembrs]

just rewatched 4x24 amplification so here’s a silly thought

reader and spence get stuck together & reader just flirts with him the whole time and he’s like ‘please help me in finding something to go off of’ and she’s just like ‘anyone ever tell you you look good all sick and sweaty reid’

meanwhile penelope is on the verge of a panic attack

PRETTY | Spencer Reid x Reader

description: Spencer seems to be the only one keeping it together when the two of you get hit with the new Anthrax strain.

length: 450wds

warnings: anthrax, sweating, intoxication, flirting

“How’s she doing?” Penelope asked, her voice crackly and quiet through the phone as Spencer rooted around the office for the cure to whatever strain of Anthrax their UnSub had cooked up. 

He took a shaky breath, feeling his hair sticking to the back of his neck with the sweat that gathered there. “She’s…” He trailed off, flipping a look over his shoulder where you were leaned against the desk, your head a little wobbly and heavy as you strained to keep yourself upright, “She’s hanging in there,” 

“Did I ever tell you how handsome you are with the long hair, Reid?” You slurred, sounding somewhat drunk as you spoke, no doubt a byproduct of the fever, and he hoped you weren’t in any pain, since you didn’t seem in any state to complain. You seemed euphoric if anything, judging by the intoxicated grin on your face as you reached for him, your hands lightly sheened in sweat. 

“Yes, you did,” Spencer replied, his cheeks burning with more than the high temperature that he was running, “Multiple times. Sweetheart, do you reckon you could help me look for the cure?”

“Sure!” You hopped away from the counter, almost throwing yourself to the ground in your excitement, and you felt the room spinning as you reached up to the cabinet above his head to search for the medication, “When this is all over, you gotta let me put some cute braids in it or something, Spence, I mean you’re really missing a trick-”

“Ofcourse, you can put the prettiest pigtails in my hair, the second we find that antidote,” He promised, his agile fingers flicking through every drawer in the cabinet, despite the fact his chest was pounding at your flirtatious tone. 

“Reid, that does not sound like she’s hanging in, that sounds very much the opposite of hanging in there,” Penelope rushed through the line, her fingers whizzing across her keyboard, the clicking clear through Spencer’s speaker, “She wants to primp you like you’re little girls in a playground, Reid, that is not hanging in there- oh good heavens I think I need a happy place right about now,” 

“I’ll say,” Spencer said where his head was in the fridge, rooting through the packs of diet coke and sparkling water the scientists had. He felt fingers rooting through his hair, and he sighed as he glanced up at your dazed expression, because he hated telling you no, “Cure first, honey, then you can braid my hair,”

“Right! Right, sorry it’s just so pretty, you’re just so pretty-” You mumbled, helping him empty out all of the files onto the floor so he could start skim reading. 

He hoped for his own sake the paramedics close. 

[helen-with-an-a]

I am an Adult pt 3

Hi. So I wasn't planning to do a part 3 of the series but I got a request and it was really cute/funny so I thought why not ahaha.

Barca Femeni x Reader ; Lena Oberdorf x Reader

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 3.5 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7 : Epilogue

Word Count: 3.3k

Description: R gets a girlfriend

It took a lot of work to find the right balance. The give and take, knowing where to push and where to pull. That fine line between knowing when to go to the team for help and doing it yourself.

After the events of last Spring, you had been better at relying on the girls for essential things, and they had been better at asking you about them without nagging. You sent a picture of critical legal dates to Alexia, who would set a reminder to ask you about them a week or so before the actual deadline. Lucy helped you figure out meals if you asked for them. Irene helped you stock and restock your pantry and cupboards throughout your house when you were stuck on what to keep multiple or spares of. Marta helped out with your schedule if you felt a little overwhelmed. They felt like they were checking up on you and helping you without you feeling smothered. It was fantastic.

And then you got a girlfriend.

Initially, Your crush was slight, something you could repress and squash down. But then you played her in the Champions League group stages. Wolfsburg and Barcelona were drawn in the same group by some bizarre coincidence or the universe interfering in your love life.

Lena was so sweet and kind; it was crazy. You first interacted when you had to do some media together. UEFA media decided to do ‘head-to-head’ videos where some players from each team had to do videos, interviews, and challenges together. And with another stroke of luck – or divine intervention once again – you and Lena were paired together. You were caught off guard by how gentle she was. On the pitch, she was a force to be reckoned with solid tackles and her fearlessness of a yellow card. That was the only impression you had of her. Of course, you had stalked her social media for months, so you knew she seemed like a fantastic friend. But off the pitch, it was like a switch had flipped. She was so soft, it was unreal – always asking if you were ok with the questions she was asking and checking in with you after challenges. It was making your head spin in the most fantastic way.

“What do I do?” You asked Ona over coffee. She was the one person you trusted with this secret.

“Well, well, well. Where has the confident, cocky, ‘I’m so good with girls’ Y/N gone?” She joked. You had never experienced these feelings before, and you were panicking slightly.

“Ugh, never mind. If you’re just going to make fun of me-” you shook your head, starting to gather your things.

“No, wait, hey, c’mon. Do you seriously like her?” Ona grabbed your wrist, stopping you from leaving.

“I … I don’t know. I think so, but I don’t do relationships. I never have. It’s just been one-night stands and friends-with-benefit type things. Casual sex. Never anything more. I don’t do more.”

“Well, neither do I,” Ona cut in. You raised an eyebrow at her.

“Want me to tell that to Lucy?” You said sarcastically, chuckling at her deep blush. “Ona, c’mon, I’m serious. I really like her,” you all but begged.

“Ok, ok. No hay necesidad de preocuparse. If you really like her, just ask her out for coffee, or dinner, or to the movies, or something. Just be your normal self. You know you have game. I’ve seen the number of girls you’ve brought back after nights out. So just be your charming self, flirt a little, and ask her on a date.” You nodded at her words. Flirting, you could do. Charming, you could do. Asking her out on a date … you hoped you could do.

You asked her out after the first leg. It was in Barcelona, so you messaged her to see if she wanted to see the sights. You knew she wasn’t going home until 2 days after the match, so on her off-day. You knew it was slightly unconventional to ask someone out via text, but you think you might never do it if you asked in person.

[Initial]💙❤️: Do u want to go to see some stuff in Barcelona with me on ur day off?? x

L💚: By rselves? Like a date???

[Initial]💙❤️: Yes x

[Initial]💙❤️: Would u like to go on a date with me on ur day off??

L💚: Yes

L💚: I’ll send you the hotel details. I could meet u at like 10? 11?

[Initial]💙❤️:  I’ll pick u up at 10 outside the hotel – wear comfy shoes!!! <3

L💚: Can’t wait 😁

The day was beautiful; you took her to a little bakery for breakfast – laughing a few hours away over good coffee and excellent food. You then spent the morning doing the touristy things before having lunch at a tapas place, again not noticing the time passing as you giggled and sent longing stares at each other. The afternoon was filled with more happiness as you showed her the quieter spots and your favourite places to relax. Dinner was a classic paella, finally drawing up the courage to hold her hand on your way back to drop her off.

You were just around the corner from her hotel when you pulled her to stop.

“Um … I had a perfect day today.” You said as you shuffled closer,

“Me too,” she replied, softly pushing some hair away from your face. You licked your lips, staring at hers. She slowly leant in, her eyes flicking between your lips and eyes. You leant in, too; you were so close to kissing her – one slight adjustment at you would be.

A car horn sounded right next to you, making you both spring apart. Fuck!

“I … um … I better get going,” Lena said, gesturing towards the hotel. You could tell she was a little disappointed

“Yeh, no, I get it. Just … text me, yeh? Maybe you could show me around Wolfsburg when we travel to you guys?” you said nervously, not meeting her warm brown eyes.

“Hey,” she called softly, using her free hand to grasp your chin and make you look into her eyes. “I will absolutely be showing you around my home. We will definitely be doing this again,” she said with certainty. You felt your heart jump at the idea of a second date with Lena. She squeezed your hand before she left, looking back with a soft smile as she went.

[Initial]💙❤️: SPOTIFY LINK – One Direction, ‘I Should Have Kissed You’:  https://www.spotify......

L💚: SPOTIFY LINK – Odeal, ‘Next Time’: https://www.spotify.......

After the second leg, Lena took you to a Christmas Market, saying that even though it was only November, you had to experience one. It was lovely. You laughed, ate too much food, and drank too much hot chocolate and mulled wine. As she took you back to your hotel, you came to a stop, much like you had in Barcelona.

“Can I actually kiss you this time?” You asked her.

“Bitte Küsse mich.” You didn’t speak German, but she clarified her intentions as she put a hand on your hip, shuffling closer until your breaths mingled. Her lips were soft and rough and warm and cold all at once. It was perfect. The world stopped spinning momentarily as you slowly let your tongue explore.

“Mein Gott” she said as you parted.

“Guess I’m going to need German lessons.” You laughed, pressing your lips back on hers.

“Don’t worry, I know a willing teacher,” she said as you separated again.

Your relationship was semi-secret; text exchanges left you giddy, hushed phone calls left you too-smiley, and facetimes were taken as you hurried from the rooms. Everyone could tell something was different, and most people could guess that it was probably down to a person; they just couldn’t figure out who.

“Alright, out with it. Who’s got you so smiley?” Patri asked as she sat on your sofa. You were having a younger girls' night—like you do most evenings. Patri, Pina, Esmee, Ona, Jana, Martina, Vicky, Bruna, Cata … it was a bit of a squeeze in your one-bedroom flat, but you made it work.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said as you smiled into your glass.

“Oh, please. You’ve been smiling away, laughing, and being disgustingly cute. Who is it?” Jana swatted your thigh at your non-answer.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” you stuck your tongue out at her.

“Don’t make us do detective work!” Martina threatened, pulling up her phone and going onto your social media.

“It’s recent, so check who she’s recently started following,” Vicky suggested. You were so grateful that you had been following Lena for years since you had played against her at club and national levels.

“It happened after the group stages,” Ona chimed in. You threw her an offended glare. You knew she wouldn’t actively spill your secret, but you had hoped she wouldn’t join in on the hunt for the identity of your girlfriend.

“You know something, Ona!” Pina accused, a finger coming to point at her. “You know who it is, don’t you?” They soon switched from interrogating you to Ona. Logically, it was the smartest move; Ona could crack very easily. It’s how you found out about Lucy – you had just narrowed your eyes at her for slightly too long, and she broke, spilling everything to you when she stayed the night a few months ago. You watched, somewhat amused, as Ona squirmed, avoiding eye contact, ducking her head, biting her lip. She was close to spilling everything. You knew she was terrified of telling secrets that weren’t hers, but she couldn’t help it.

“Alright, guys. Enough. Stop interrogating her.” You broke up the onslaught of questions, moving from your sofa seat to the chair she was curling up in. You could tell she was close to tears, and you didn’t want to do that to her – you knew she already felt guilty enough. You shuffled her around a bit before pulling her onto your lap.

“Right, you get 5 hints. If you can’t guess it from them, then I can’t help you. And no more asking Ona!” You glared at them all, ensuring they understood how serious you were. “Right, she’s German. She plays in Germany. She’s a midfielder. We’re similar ages. She’s made her senior international debut in 2019.” You watched as the group dissolved into loud discussion.

“Lo siento mucho. No querías que nadie lo supiera y ahora...” Ona hurried out, close to tears again.

“Hey, no, no, no. It’s ok, Oni,” you reassured her as you kissed her forehead. “No es tu culpa. I promise you. I do not blame you.” She nodded and buried her head back against your collarbone, watching the carnage in front of you. You quietly laughed to each other at the scene – Wikipedia was pulled up on everyone’s phones, the German national team website as well as they speculated on who you were seeing. You slowly pulled your phone out, quickly texting Lena.

[Initial]💙❤️: Like ½ my team are tryna guess my girlfriend rn x

[Initial]💙❤️: Do u mind if I say yes if they guess it right? x

L💚: ahahahahaha

L💚: No, I don’t mind. R u gonna tell them who I am if they get it wrong tho?

[Initial]💙❤️: Whichever u want x

[Initial]💙❤️: I don’t mind telling them x

[Initial]💙❤️: Would make it easier when I disappear to Germany for a few days and u suddenly turn up in my Barca jersey

[Initial]💙❤️: I want to tell them about u x

L💚: Tell em

L💚: Can I tell my team?

[Initial]💙❤️: Omg yesssss xxxxxxxxxxxx

L💚: also – I will never wear a barca jersey!!

L💚: Even if it does have ur name on the back 🤢

[Initial]💙❤️: ugh RUDE.

[Initial]💙❤️: But ud still be my WAG tho right? x

L💚: I’ll always be ur wag hehe

[Initial]💙❤️: so kind of u x

[Initial]💙❤️: I’ll always be ur wag too btw x

“Alright, alright. We have 2 possible answers.” Bruna turned around with a notebook in her hand. Where did they get that from? “Our first guess, we think, is less likely. Klara Bühl. She’s German, plays for Bayern, is a midfielder, and debuted in 2019. You’re similar in age. But we haven’t played Bayern in a while. So, how would you have met? So, we don’t think it’s her.” She paused, staring at your carefully crafted neutral expression. You met Klara once; she was lovely. She handed the notebook over to Cata. “Our final guess is one we think is pretty true,” Cata explained, adjusting herself to sit cross-legged before you. “We played Wolfsburg at the Champions League group stages, and you disappeared for the whole day the day after and came back all smiley. So, we have reason to believe it’s a Wolfsburg player.” You didn’t realise how seriously they were taking this. “But … most of the Wolfsburg team are German, but not all of them are German midfielders that debuted for the national team in 2019.” She paused dramatically. You knew she had figured it out. “That’s why our final guess is …” another final pause.

“Oberdorf,” Patri shouted out, clearly over Cata’s dramatics. “You’re dating Oberdorf.”

“Oi. Aquesta havia de ser la meva revelació” Cata lunged at Patri, loud shouts of Catalan descending on the house.

“D'acord, d'acord,” you shouted over the noise as you saw a wine bottle wobble precariously as someone knocked into the table. “Sí, Lena is my girlfriend.” You admitted. If you thought the noise was loud before, you were deafened by the cacophony that descended on you. You buried your head in Ona’s hair, laughing as your friends melted into chaos.

You knew that once the younger ones found out who your girlfriend was, it was only a matter of time before the older ones did. You hadn’t expected it to be the next day, however. You were in the changing rooms, chatting to Patri and Pina as you prepared for the session ahead of you. The door banged open, and you were met with an outraged Lucy. As she stalked towards you, you glanced at a very guilty-looking Ona.

“She looked at me.” Ona defended herself.

“Grow a backbone, Oni.” You shouted as Lucy dragged you from the room, remembering to add a nickname in so she knew you weren’t that mad at her.

You were dragged to an empty conference room. Alexia, Paños, Marta, Mariona, Caro, and Irene were already sitting on one side of the table. Lucy pushed you into the single seat opposite them and took her place next to Irene. You sat in silence for a full 3 minutes before anyone spoke.

“Is there something you want to tell us, cariño?” Alexia asked smoothly, folding her hands in front of her like she was conducting a business meeting.

“Ona needs to learn how to toughen up.” You weren’t too angry with Ona, but it slightly annoyed you that she had cracked so easily. You wanted to tell the older girls yourself to avoid this situation.

“Leave her out of it.” Lucy jumped in. You clicked your teeth at her, flicking your hand in her direction, dismissing her protest.

“You have a girlfriend,” Irene stated, bringing the conversation back on track.

“Ja, das tue ich,” you said, chuckling at their reaction to your German. They didn’t fully understand you but knew ‘yes’ in most languages. You could see Caro laughing slightly – she had played for Wolfsburg; she knew you were using your newfound language to irritate them.

“And you didn’t tell us?” Marta asked

“Ja, das ist richtig,” you smiled.

“Cut the crap, pequeña.” Paños hit the table, making you jump slightly.

“Bien. Si tanto quieres saber,” you snapped. “Yes, I have a girlfriend. I’m sure you already know who, but it’s Lena. I asked her out after our home Wolfsburg game. She asked me out after her home leg. We’ve been dating for a couple of months now. I really like her. Anything else you want to know?” You asked Alexia directly. You could see the internal battle – the desire to know everything about your new relationship with her promise to treat you more grown up.

“Everyone, out,” Alexia instructed after a minute, using her captain’s voice to show she was serious. “Cariño, please stay?” She asked. You nodded as the others left. Caro seemed to find this whole thing funny, but everyone else was grumbling and muttering about how they found it rude that you didn’t tell them and that you were too young for a girlfriend. “I thought we promised to tell each other things like adults?” She asked you.

“I know. The others only found out yesterday if it makes you feel any better. Ona’s known for a while, but only because I asked her for help.” You sat back in your chair, careful to leave your posture open.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” She seemed a little upset by your actions.

“I didn’t want this to happen. We’ve finally found a balance. And I knew that this would disrupt that balance. And it’s so new; I didn’t want to tell you guys until I knew what we were, and it’s only really been a few months. She asked me to be her girlfriend at New Year’s, so …” you trailed off, hoping that she understood where you were coming from.”

“Entenc. But cariño, why didn’t you tell me?” She asked again.

“I … I don’t know.” You did know. You knew exactly why you didn’t tell her. And she knew it, too. “Ok … well … I didn’t … I didn’t want you to treat me like a child again. Relationships are new to me. I can do the … physical …” you both cringed slightly, not entirely comfortable with those topics just yet, “side of relationships fine. But emotions. They’re new to me. And I wanted to figure it out for myself first. I went to Ona ‘cos she’s my best friend. One that needs to learn how to resist interrogation better, but she’s still my best friend.”

“Don't be too hard on her, pequeña. She meant well. And I get why you didn’t come to me first. But can I ask a few questions?” She watched as you left your seat, coming around to her side of the table, and sitting on her lap.

You sighed, “ask away.” She laughed as she squeezed your waist.

“Does she treat you well?”

“Sí,” you answered honestly.

“Do you treat her well?”

“I think so. I hope so.” You smiled at her concern for Lena

“Can we meet her?”

“As long as you guys don’t give her the talk, then yes.” She leant back to look at your face.

“Can I give her the talk?” You sighed.

“Sí,” you relented, not missing the flicker of excitement that passed over her face.

“When is she coming to Barcelona?”

“Our way game Èl Clasíco matches with a free weekend for her. She’s meeting me in Madrid.” You laughed as she pushed you off her lap, standing up and rushing to the door. “Where are you going?”

“To prepare my speech. Alba never let me do a charla de hermana mayor to her partners, so this might be my only chance.” You laughed at her enthusiasm. She indeed was like your big sister – annoying most of the time, infuriating some of the time, but just a big, goofy kid at heart looking out for everyone around her.

[Initial]💙❤️: U might wanna prepare urself now x

L💚: WHY???

L💚: WHAT DID U DO????

[Initial]💙❤️: Alexia knows

[Initial]💙❤️: She’s very excited to meet my girlfriend x

[Initial]💙❤️: She’s planning a speech x

L💚: I am dead

L💚: I am going to die

L💚: Will u still love me if I’m dead????

[Initial]💙❤️: She wont kill u

[Initial]💙❤️: I wont let her xxx

[Initial]💙❤️: Yes, I will still love u if ur dead xx

I hope you liked it <3<3<3

[coff33andb00ks]

Until You - Part Three

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four charles leclerc x female pop singer!reader x oscar piastri f1 smau with intermittent scenes

Summary: they drive vroom vrooms, she sings soulful tunes. there's no way in hell this is gonna work, right?

Warnings: language, smut (18+ only)

ynyln has added to their story

[caption: local guide gets lost / best guide ever / fun fact: Oscar sings when he's taking pictures of someone]

"This is so beautiful," y/n said once she'd made her way back to Oscar. She couldn't stop looking out at the view. "If I lived here I'd want to come up here every day."

Oscar chuckled, nodding as he handed her phone back to her. "I moved here recently and the other day was my first time coming up here. I think it's gonna become a regular thing, though."

"I bet it's gorgeous at sunset."

He nodded, sipping his water. "Have you seen the sunset over the water yet?"

"Not yet. Is it nice?" Spreading her jacket on the rock, she sat down, wanting to enjoy the peace and quiet for as long as possible.

Oscar hummed, sitting near her. "It's quite lovely."

"I'll make sure to see it before I go." She wondered if he would want to see it with her. If she was stupid for thinking there was some sort of connection between them.

"Maybe we can see it together." He looked surprised that the words had come from him, and she was further charmed by the faint blush staining his cheeks.

"It's a date," she said softly.

He sighed, and she felt the weight of it roll away from him. Propping his arms on his knees, he cleared his throat. "I'd like that."

"You like being away from it all, don't you?" she asked suddenly, unintentionally mirroring his posture. Resting her cheek on her arm, she watched his face as he considered the question.

"I like peace and quiet occasionally. To remind me of who I am." He shrugged.

"Me, too." She looked out at the sea.

"Do you get to get away from it all? Ever?"

"Not as much as I'd like," she admitted. "I love my life, Oscar, I do. I love that I'm blessed and privileged enough to be able to do something I love and see the world while doing it. And I get a high that can't be matched when I'm able to stop singing and hear words I wrote sung back to me by thousands of people. But I sometimes feel like I always have to be 'on' you know? Like—"

"Like you can't be yourself, or worse, losing who you truly are," he finished.

"Exactly," she whispered. "And for two years I was under even more scrutiny."

"Were you miserable the whole time?"

"Not at first. I think it was a year ago that I realized we were just pretending. In my heart and head I broke up with him then, and that's where a lot of my angsty songs came from for this tour." She sighed. "But you don't want to hear—"

"I do," he promised gently. "Rolling in the Deep?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Wrote it after we had a fight where he threatened to leak my nudes."

"Christ," Oscar groaned. "Anti-Hero?"

"All things he said were wrong with me."

He shook his head, looking out to the sea. "What a fucking cunt."

"It doesn't hurt as much as it did," she admitted.

"It made for some great music, but I'm truly sorry you had to go through that," he said. "No one deserves that."

"Thank you." She watched him watch the city beneath them. "Why do you have to be reminded of who you are?"

"Same as you I reckon. I'm able to do something I love and see the world and I'm so grateful for that, but… Sometimes I feel like it's a dream and it's all gonna be snatched away." He looked at her. "Youngest driver on the grid and all, you know? And I started later than everyone else, so sometimes I worry that I don't have enough experience."

"Like you're faking it," she guessed.

"Exactly. And I'm under scrutiny because of my age, because I did so much before getting here, and…" He sighed, shrugging slightly. "What if I don't meet expectations?"

"So you still think you have to prove yourself?"

"I don't think, I know I do. I haven't had a win yet. The sprint, but that doesn't count. I'm only ever right behind."

"You'll get there."

"You think?" he asked.

"No, I know you will."

They sat in silence for several moments, and she was aware of the time quickly slipping away. Far below she could see Monaco coming to life for the day and clung to the peace on this little mountaintop.

"Who did you write Enchanted for?" he asked.

Her heart thrummed violently in her chest and she followed a boat with her eyes as it pulled into the harbor. "Someone special."

"Ah."

"Has there ever been anyone you admired? That you didn't know but you knew of and you built them up in your mind?"

"…Yeah."

She could feel his eyes on her but she kept her gaze on the harbor. "He's that for me. And I was worried that it would be like it sometimes is, where I'd meet him and it would be a letdown. But… It wasn't. I was… Enchanted. And I'm only more so every time I see him."

"Does he know?"

"I hope he does," she whispered.

"He sounds like a lucky guy."

"I don't think he thinks he's lucky. Pretty sure he thinks he's worried he won't meet expectations," she murmured.

He was silent for eleven seconds. Y/n knew because she counted them, each one feeling like an hour. And then… "What about Charles?"

"He's enchanting too, but in a different way."

"Y/n?"

She swallowed hard and slowly turned her head to look at him.

"I built you up in my mind, too."

"Was it a letdown?" she asked, too scared of his answer to exhale.

"I wouldn't be here if it was," he said in a rush.

She awoke as soon as his alarm started. Behind her he sighed, pressing his face tighter against her neck. When she reached for his phone he groaned, catching her hand and holding it to her chest. "Charles… Time to get up."

"No," he sighed.

"It's quali day," she enticed, slipping her hand free and stretching to silence the alarm. He didn't budge and she laughed softly.

"I like it right here."

She was still a little surprised that he hadn't even attempted to have sex the night before. After their talk he'd kissed her sweetly then given her one of his shirts to change into. Then, he'd held her. He was still holding her, as he had all night.

"Ten more minutes?" he whispered.

Y/n nodded, because she did love the comfort of being in his arms. She contemplated setting a timer just in case they went back to sleep, but felt his lips against her skin and understood he didn't want ten minutes more of sleep. His hand slid down and he huffed softly when he felt Leo curled up in front of him.

"Five seconds," he murmured against her shoulder, and she could only giggle softly as he sat up, smoothly pulling Leo from her and sliding out of bed.

She rolled onto her back to stretch, squealing when he was almost immediately returning, lying over her and catching her in a gentle kiss. Stretching her arms above her head, she arched then reached to help him shove the covers away. "Charles," she gasped, legs falling open for him.

He nuzzled her neck with a soft groan, pulling back and leaning away to yank open the nightstand drawer. He was back in seconds, drawing her into a series of kisses that had her growing warm. His fingers trailed down her sides then back up, sliding his shirt up, pulling away long enough to slip it over her head. "Si belle, mon amour."

His hands were everywhere, making it impossible for her to focus on them as they stirred and spread heat, lips meeting hers again when a hand slipped between them. She tried to mirror his touches, felt his cock pressing against her thigh while his fingers traced her slit.

Deepening the kiss, he shifted, slipping the condom into her hand then bracing his hand beside them. His fingers teased briefly and he chuckled breathlessly, lips moving to her ear as he rubbed along her slit, working up to her clit. "So sensible," he whispered after she cried out softly.

"Sensible… Sensitive?" she whispered, her meager French falling apart as his fingers worked her clit so expertly.

"Oui… Une si bonne fille." He nipped at her earlobe and she felt him smile while her hips lifted, pushing tighter against his fingers. Her body flooded with heat and he moved his fingers harder, moaning the words over and over as the wet sounds grew louder.

"Don't stop," she panicked when she felt him leaning back. He gently shushed her, fingers hard and fast on her clit, licking his lips as he looked down. "Fuck, Charles—"

"Yes, ma bonne fille," he encouraged. "Cum for me, hm? Let me hear you."

She was almost ashamed of how quickly she came once he said the words, her hips lifting off the bed as she screamed for him. His fingers eased while she trembled, then slid away, his hand gently gripping her hip. One breathless kiss later his hand slid over hers and she hummed, reaching to help him put on the condom.

There was a brief fumbling as he settled between her legs, his hands running up and down her legs. He breathed in to speak, but she only heard Leo's soft whine from outside the bedroom door. Charles exhaled harshly, head dropping to her shoulder when she giggled. "Fuck, Leo."

"Sorry," she kept giggling, tangling her fingers in his hair.

"Will your Oscar be jealous too?" he murmured, and her laughter stopped at once.

"He's not my—" She gasped, head falling back, as he entered her.

"I don't mind sharing." He spoke directly against her ear, hands gentle on her thighs, fucking her slow.

"Really?" She was surprised but wasn't, and she wished he'd told her this when he wasn't buried inside her, because that made it a little hard to think properly.

"Yes, mon couer," he moaned, lips pressed to her ear. His hands gripped her thighs tightly as she arched and whined, his lips dragging down her neck when she threw her head back.

"Charles," she gasped, tightening her hold on his hair. He lifted his head, chuckling softly as he leaned to meet her lips with his.

"Again, amour." One hand shot up, gently cupping her throat as he thrust harder.

"Oh my god," she squealed, digging her nails in his back.

"Is good?' he whispered and when she gasped out a yes he kissed her deeply, swallowing her cries. The world seemed to stand still while his lips and tongue worked hers with perfection, thick moans rising up his throat. Her hands moved up and she mirrored the tenderness he was showing her, lightly running her fingers up the back of his head, other hand gently cradling his cheek. Squeezing her eyes shut, she let out a sharp cry as she came. And could only gasp into his mouth, hands trembling, as he came a few moments later.

Finally she recognized the ringing in her ears as her phone going off with texts. Groaning, she tried to focus Charles and his sweet kisses, pouting a little when he pulled out.

"You are too popular to have your ringer on," he teased, grabbing her phone off the nightstand and setting it next to her. "Tell her we're getting ready."

She nodded, stretching and humming before picking up her phone. Like him, she assumed the texts were from her assistant. Unlocking the phone, she sighed as Charles stayed over her after throwing away his condom. He must have felt her tense when she read the texts, because he made a questioning hum, sitting upright.

"Not y/bff/n?" he asked.

She sighed, turning the phone so he could read the texts. He scoffed, muttering rapidly under his breath in French and Italian and though she wasn't sure what the Italian was she knew the French and agreed with him calling her ex a crybaby bitch.

"Send him a photo."

About to block the asshole, she stopped, staring up at him. "What?"

"Send him a photo, mon couer."

Without thinking, she snapped a picture of Charles, enjoying his warm laugh while she cropped it and sent it to Justin. She showed it to him and he only laughed harder.

ynyln

Liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, landonorris, and others

ynyln: I'm at the age I can date you or your dad 💋 📷: charles_leclerc

↳landonorris: is this some secret lyric I don't know?            ↳ ynyln: not everything is a lyric, lando            ↳landonorris: it usually is with you            ↳ ynyln: I'm not that bad ↳landonorris: great photo by the way ↳ynyln: thank you sweetie ↳oscarpiastri: amazing shot. Glad you got to see the sunset. Did dad scare you on the yacht?            ↳ynyln: no he was very careful. You were right, it was quite lovely. You'll have to come with us next time            ↳charles_leclerc: you're always welcome            ↳oscarpiastri: it's a date            ↳user3: wtf is going on am I the only one who's confused ↳charles_leclerc: can you?            ↳ynyln: depends on the dad            ↳landonorris: now I'm confused            ↳ynyln: go back to your own comment thread

ynyln

Liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, scuderiaferrari, and others ynyln: Winning one's home race is special. It's more symbolic and emotional than all the other podiums throughout the season. Over the years I have watched grown men cry over the "hometown boy" – and shed more than a few tears myself. But this time, it was extraordinary. Congratulations, Charles. The so-called curse is broken. It was a privilege to meet you, but an honor to get to know the man behind the visor. C'est incroyable, mon amie. ❤️🤍 ↳charles_leclerc: Merci, mon beau porte-bonheur. Tu es incroyable. (liked by author)          ↳ ynyln: I'm not a lucky charm          ↳ charles_leclerc: for me you are ↳ user3: our girl's fallen again 🥺 ↳ oscarpiastri: so incredibly proud of dad           ↳ ynyln: he's proud of you too           ↳ user6: wait what if her post about "you and your dad" was about oscar and charles?            ↳ user7: ok grandma let's get you back in bed

ynyln

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, mclaren, charles_leclerc, and others ynyln: My favorite driver has become one of my favorite people. Your drive and passion are inspiring. You are amazing and I hope you know how proud Team Piastri is of you today. My tears were just as much for you as that other guy. Thank you for letting me tag along and annoy you with my singing and bad jokes. Pain au chocolates on me tomorrow. (Maybe no hike though?) 🧡🧡

↳ oscarpiastri: You're one of my favorite people, too. And I'll always say yes to pain au chocolate with you. 🧡      ↳ynyln: Ergo I'm blushing ↳landonorris: Team Piastri?? 😒      ↳ynyln: Don't be jealous ↳mclaren: Your paddock passes for Canada are being delivered tomorrow     ↳ ynyln: 🙏🏻 ↳charles_leclerc: that other guy is proud of him too     ↳ ynyln: ur boy did good 🥹

ynyln

liked by georgerussel63, oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc and others ynyln: Some favorite photos from Monaco week. Amazing doesn't cover it. Thank you, scuderiaferrari, for welcoming me into your fold this week. This week healed me in ways I will never be able to describe. Tagged: charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, landonorris, georgerussel63, lewishamilton

↳scuderiaferrari: You are always welcome to our garage, YN. Truly an honor making your wish come true! ↳landonorris: I'm tagged but there's no photo of me?      ↳ynyln: um you're in the pic with Oscar?      ↳landonorris: you mean my hand??      ↳ynyln: Fine, I'll post the pics I got of you sleeping.      ↳landonorris: No!      ↳mclaren: YES ↳oscarpiastri: It was enchanting to meet you      ↳ynyln: I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home      ↳user3: WHAT      ↳oscarpiastri: This was the very first page, not where our storyline ends      ↳ynyln: My thoughts will echo your name until I see you again      ↳user4: WHAT IS GOING ON ↳georgerussel63: Blimey slide 3 is a good photo      ↳ynyln: I spent the week playing my favorite game: Formula One driver or European model? ↳lewishamilton: Lunch this week?      ↳ynyln: Only if you bring Roscoe ↳user5: the drivers really said "YN belongs to us now"|↳charles_leclerc: Monaco is lonely without you. Revient bientôt, chérie.      ↳ynyln: compter les jours      ↳user4: oh he's down BAD

oscarpiastri has added to their story

[caption: miss you already] replies: ↳landonorris: um mate? ↳ynyln: i'm literally right beside you ↳mclaren: delete immediately [story no longer available]

charles_leclerc has added to their story

[caption: ❤️❤️❤️] replies: ↳ynyln: stop i'm gonna cry - when did you take this?? ↳scuderiaferrari: you have to delete this      ↳charles_leclerc: No ↳maxverstappen1: why does everyone have sexual pictures of her?      ↳charles_leclerc: because we are lucky

Taglist:

@lichterfee | @formulaal | @a-beaverhausen | @dullypully | @wobblymug | @apollosfavkiddo | @callsignwidow | @saachiep81 | @midnights-lily | @waterlilypat | @kiwi43-81 | @fastfactory |

[adelheidvonschicksal]

Megumi falling in love for the first time?

Attempts at Friendship are Unappreciated

Synopsis: Megumi doesn’t have a need for friends, let alone a lover. But upon getting his first crush, he learns some new things about himself, like maybe he cares more than he thinks.

pairing: Megumi Fushiguro x GN!Reader

content warning: SFW, potential friends to lovers, Megumi sorting out his feelings sort of stuff because cynical, overthinker Megumi is my favorite Megumi.

If you were to ask Megumi, he didn’t have any need for friends. And he has been asked before by people like Gojo and his sister. The answer was always the same. He prefers being alone. People were too complicated. Too selfish. Too good. Too everything, really. And he was, well, himself.

Even after arriving at Jujutsu High, it’s still unnerving to him to have someone talk to him so earnestly, like his eyes weren’t permanently fixed with irritation, like he wasn’t constantly avoiding others, like he didn’t wear indifference like a new fur coat in the height of winter.

Itadori was an unexpected exception. An outburst of emotion intravenously linked him to the other boy, the golden strings of their destinies twined and knotted together on Fate’s spinning wheel.

You, on the other hand, have no reason to befriend him. He’s never had anything to offer others in return for their company, which never bothered him until he met you.

Megumi questioned what it was about you that allows you to get so close. So, he lets you talk, chattering his ear off in the covered walkway hosting the vending machines.

He studies you inch by inch, searching for something in the bright expression on your face and the crinkle of your eyes when you smile; he still doesn’t know exactly what he’s looking for. Your motive – the reason for wanting to talk to someone like him?

“What’s your favorite color?” you ask.

“I don’t have one.”

It may sound like a rude dismissal of your question but it's the truth, the painfully boring truth. He’s never put much thought into trivial things like that. The fact settles heavily in his stomach and rings hollow in his chest like when his sister said he’d never learn to make friends if he didn’t put himself out there.

Back then, Megumi pretended not to have heard her. In truth, it bothered him when she said it, only for the feeling to quickly fade away before he even left school that day. That strange void he felt back then always seems to resurface at the worst of times.

“Would you say that you like black or silver better? How about blue?”

Megumi looks down and plays with the tab on his orange juice can, avoiding the thing about you that makes him want to hear you talk. Megumi has no need for friends. Attempts at friendship aren’t appreciated.

“They’re all fine,” he grumbles out. It’s the maximum he allows.

Megumi doesn’t have a type. It’s another one of those trivial things he’s never bothered to think about until his head was literally cracked through the pavement.

He knows all about types though, and he knows as much as he cares about romance from the bad to the good. Sweaty palms, blushing faces, pounding hearts were all reoccuring themes in his books.

Megumi never thought he’d have romantic feelings for anyone, no matter how fleeting. He reckons he isn’t capable of it. He just isn’t wired that way.

It’s comforting in a sense. It means he didn’t have to worry about attachments. Sure, he loves his sister, and Gojo, well, he cares for his benefactor, but he’s never considered the older man someone he felt okay investing all his feelings into. People his own age were complicated enough; adults were worse, his father was worse; the little he remembers anyway.

When he thinks about the way he met Gojo who too conveniently saved him from the Zen’in clan in exchange for becoming his student, it’s hard for him to let his trust flow purely even after all this time; even when Gojo took it upon himself to do Megumi favors like putting Itadori's room right next door (another thing Megumi didn't appreciate).

Megumi blames his long-seated resentment for the reason his heart starts to work overtime the day you present friendship bracelets to everyone. They’re fancy; many steps above the cheap kind that you’d find at some discount convenience store with plastic alphabets and random beads and symbols. He assumes a couple of the pieces might be real.

Kugisaki’s is green, shining on her wrist like emeralds. Megumi thinks it suits someone like Kugisaki, who would undoubtedly love to be covered in jewels. Itadori has a similar one, rotating with a pattern of red and opaque white pieces.

Standing in that hall, drowning out the conversation between Kugisaki and Itadori about who has the prettier bracelet, Megumi realizes he’s next.

It starts when you step in front of him; there’s a cautious tone to your voice when you say his name because you already know: attempts at friendship aren’t appreciated.

It's with a roll of anxiousness, the one that always comes with the mystery of whether his exchange with someone will be positive or negative and the skeptic thought in his head that reminds him most people always want something in return, that makes him throw up a wall.

“These probably aren’t your thing but I made one for you too,” you preface. “I hope you like it. I wasn’t really sure what to put on it so I made some guesses.”

You’re right. Friendship bracelets aren’t his thing; needing a token like a bracelet to prove your relationship to someone is asinine. It’s against what is supposed to make a friendship special. Strong friendships should need no words, right?

Most importantly, he doesn’t need it, and there’s no reason for you to give him one.

“You keep it,” he starts. However, it’s already too late as you grab his arm and slide the trinket over his hand.

“I don’t—” he starts again; there’s a bit of surprise in the way you look at him, the way everyone stops and looks at him actually. This quickly becomes one of those times where it’d be easier to go with the flow than to fight the current. “Fine.” He clears his throat. “Only because you already made it,” he explains more fully, stifling the embarrassment that wants to bubble from his chest with so much attention.

Like before, he finds himself too focused on watching you, the way your eyes soften from surprise and rejection to shining stars. He thinks this must be how the protagonists in those books feel when heat creeps up their neck. Those books also left him sorely unprepared that it would go past neck to his face and ears.

He breaks away from the situation, finding a way to retreat into the background to shield himself from the gooey feeling permeating the air. He drops his gaze to his arm, focusing on the bracelet with his name accompanied by a repetition of blue and silver, connecting the two—four—of you together.

Megumi fixes his sleeve over the bracelet, but he can’t hide how painfully aware he is of the charms rolling against his skin.

It was both a pleasant feeling and completely alien.

It broke.

Megumi was a bit reckless against a low-level curse, and it broke. He didn’t even realize it until after the battle was over and one of the silver charms were rolling under his foot.

It shouldn’t have been a big deal. It was bound to happen eventually considering this line of work. Yet, he still picked up the few pieces he could separate from the gravel, and the entire ride home his wrist feels unreasonably bare.

Thinking about how he messed up makes him annoyed at himself, especially when he wonders what you’d think if you noticed he wasn’t wearing it. You’d probably think he tossed it somewhere; that he didn’t like it. He liked it. The same way he likes to listen to you talk on car rides home after missions or when you ask him to hang out with you and the others or when you read all the books he recommends with the protagonists that are quickly becoming too relatable with every skipped heartbeat and tongue-tied word. He’s frustrated to acknowledge why that’s the case.

It’s only been three months since the start of the school year, he thinks. It took only three months for his thoughts to start drifting to his classmates, with you almost always center stage in them.

When he arrives back at the school, he finds your room and knocks on your door. He shows you what little remains of the gift you gave him, as if he needs to immediately absolve himself of any wrongdoing.

“Do you want me to make you another one?” you ask cautiously.

Megumi can guess why you’re hesitant considering he only accepted your gift because of peer pressure. He still believes gifts like this are silly and unnecessary.

But…

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

He wants it.

So, he goes into your room where he watches you begin the process of making him another bracelet. You ask him which accessories he would prefer, and like always he doesn’t have much preference other than what you think is best. As long as it isn’t too silly, of course.

He gives his undivided attention to how your fingertips pour over your work kit and the many square boxes filled with different miniature shapes before you carefully pick out one with a little dog face.

“I think this one is good,” you whisper to yourself before continuing your search for another complementing bead.

You smile as you work. It’s nice. Cute even as you bite down on your lip in concentration; and right now, he isn’t quite sure what to do with that information other than note the way it makes his palms feel clammy especially when he notices your eyes lift back up to his.

Megumi notices a lot about you actually. He notices how you always go out your way to get his, well, everyone’s opinion on everything. He notices that whenever you share your snacks with everyone that you always save ginger for him. He notices how your gaze lingers on him when you ask if everyone is in one piece after difficult missions. He also notices how your finger stops over a silver square, one with a little black heart carved in each side. He wonders, perhaps too hopefully, if the charm is just one you think he’d like or if it means more than that.

“Why do you always keep trying to talk to me?” he asks, fighting the urge to beg you to stop getting stuck in his mind so much.

Your head snaps up from what you’re doing.

“What do you mean? We’re teammates,” you answer simply.

“Aren’t missions enough? We don’t need to interact aside from that.”

You pinch your eyebrows at him, and there’s a frown on your face. “Sure we do.”

“There’s no reason.”

It’s not like he ever saved your life, not like Itadori. It’s not like he has a somewhat familial relationship with you, like Gojo. You’re not his sibling or his parent; he’s not the friendlist either so there’s no reason to try to get closer any more than necessary, and there’s no reason for him to be feeling so nervous right now.

“How about because I like talking to you? I think you’re pretty funny, and you’re a kind person.” You shake your head, laughing. “I don’t know. I just like being friends with you.”

Megumi doesn’t know what he was expecting. Some deep explanation why you keep trying to get close to him? Some selfish excuse from you that he could use to warrant pushing you away. A reason to justify why he likes you so much? A reason to hope you like him just as much?

Maybe.

There doesn’t need to be some special reason for you wanting to be his friend, which means he doesn’t really need a reason either.

“I see.”

“Finished,” you say, holding out his newly made bracelet to him. “I poured some of my cursed energy into it, so it won’t break so easily next time.”

Megumi feels calm once again when he feels the weight and roll of the beads on his skin again; the aura of your curse energy humming through it makes the connection back to you much more noticeable.

“What about me?” you ask, drawing his attention. “Do you like being friends with me?”

Megumi can’t answer that, not because he doesn’t have an answer, but because he feels like his tongue weighs more than lead as you lean closer into him.

His eyes find your lips, soft and parted. This is the first time he’s gotten the urge to kiss someone. It makes his stomach whirlwind, and he quickly finds a way to answer you without having to look at you as he picks at one of the charms.

“Can I make you one?”

The next morning, Megumi decides to go out with you and the others for breakfast, which in hindsight was a mistake as Itadori points out the new accesory you’re wearing on your wrist.

“Hey, you got one too now.”

You smile, holding it up proudly. “Megumi made it for me!”

“Megumi?!” Itadori blurts out.

“Made it for you?” Nobara asks with raised eyebrows and a hand on her hip.

“He did a really good job.”

It’s like the time before when you first gave them their gifts, and everyone is looking at him again. “I didn’t do anything special; a monkey could do it,” he mumbles out.

Itadori is the first to crack a laugh followed by Kugisaki. Then, the two of them start muttering and teasing him in unison.

“He’s so modest,” Itadori points out.

“Loverboy,” Kugisaki whispers.

“Can we call you Megumi too?” Itadori asks.

Megumi doesn’t have the patience to consider whether the other boy is being genuine or not as he grits his teeth and growls out a quick “shut up” before konking Itadori on the head to prove his point. It’s enough to make them leave him alone for now as Itadori accidentally trips into Kugisaki from the force.

“That was completely unnecessary, Fushiguro,” Kugisaki grumbles as she pushes Itadori off and stands back to her feet.

Megumi sighs.

This is why he doesn’t want friends.

“Did you just sigh at me!”

“If that’s what you heard,” he tells her.

“You better sleep with both eyes open!”

“I’ll be sure to do that.”

Yet if it’s those two then he guesses having friends isn’t completely unbareable.

Suddenly, Megumi loses focus at the timbre of your laugh.

“You guys are starting early today.”

You’re still laughing at them, harder now actually, and it’s precious. He throws his gaze to the wall as if he’s ignoring Kugisaki and not trying to hide the heat blooming on his cheeks when you glance at him, making him aware that he’s the reason for your laughter.

Megumi shoves his hands in his pockets and rolls his thumb over the bracelet and the heart you left behind there.

Friendship is something he’s coming around to. Having a crush for the first time, well, he still needs work on figuring that out. 

[somethingvicked]

Forget me (not) pt 1

An Eddie Munson story.

Warnings: female reader, angst, reader injured, Eddie being an idiot, memory loss.

Eddie wasn’t stupid. He knew that the relationship between him and Chrissy wouldn’t last forever. They were two very different people that wanted different things in life.

Chrissy wanted to graduate with high honors and go to college and then get married and have a white picket fence life with children and a dog.

Eddie was on his third try to graduate high school and he had no clue what he was going to do with his life after that. He had his band but he didn’t think they would ever make it out of the garage era, playing at a bar for only five drunks every week.

But Chrissy was really pretty, and unlike every other popular person, she was also sweet and not ashamed to be seen with him. Why not have a good time while it lasted?

He had to admit, he hadn’t paid as much attention to his best friend, Y/N since he and Chrissy started dating, after that first time Chrissy bought weed from him and they started joking and having fun.

Eddie reckoned that it was okay. He had known and spent time with Y/N most of his life – it couldn’t be that bad if he spent a couple of weeks or months with Chrissy.

Did he notice that Y/N was hurt when he turned down her suggestions of movie nights, going out for a burger or planning the next campaign? Yes.

But he figured it was alright. It wouldn’t last forever.

For him and Y/N there would be more time. For him and Chrissy, it was limited.

You wanted to be happy for Eddie when he and Chrissy started dating. And in a way you were. That Chrissy, such a popular and smart girl saw Eddie as he really was, rather than what everyone thought him to be. She didn’t judge him.

But you would be lying if you didn’t say you were jealous.

You had been in love with Eddie since middle school, when he and his band played at that talent show.

You two hadn’t become friends until high school, though, when you came over and asked if you could join Hellfire club.

Up until then you had mostly hung out with the band nerds and Robin, because your parents really wanted you to learn some kind of instrument.

You had tried to play the violin but you hated it, so when you quit you felt like you needed a new hobby and with Eddie running the DnD club, it was a given.

You had never told Eddie how much you loved him, though. He didn’t feel the same way, you knew that. You were just his best friend.

There had been other girls that he had hooked up with but it never lasted. Not like this.

And when he kept blowing you off you wondered if you were about to lose him forever?

That’s what led you to going over to his place one time when Chrissy had cheer practice. You knew Eddie rarely came to cheer practice because he didn’t like the way the jocks yelled at Chrissy, calling her a traitor and a devil’s tramp and whatnot.

Eddie opened the door himself, in sweatpants and an old Dio shirt, hair all tousled. You suspected he’d been relaxing with a joint.

”Y/N! Sweetheart, what are you doing here?” Eddie wondered, smiling at you.

The nickname felt like a knife to the heart. Even more when he asked what you were doing at his place, as if you coming over had become some strange event all of a sudden.

And to be fair, lately it had.

”I need to talk to you,” you replied. ”Are you going to let me in, or should we talk here on the porch?”

You hadn’t meant to sound so snappy but you were nervous and his reaction to you didn’t help.

Eddie’s grin disappeared and he stepped aside so you could come through the door, a frown now on his face.

”What’s wrong?” he wondered as you two walked into his room.

You sighed, your arms wrapped around yourself, trying to keep yourself together, if not mentally, at least physically.

Eddie started to look worried, clearly thinking you were about to say something horrible had happened.

You sighed.

”Eddie... I... I miss you.”

Eddie seemed surprised. ”You miss me? That’s what we need to talk about? We see each other all the time, sweetheart!”

”Do we?” you challenged. ”The only one you seem to hang out with these days is Chrissy. I... I get it that you and her... but it feels like we’re not even friends anymore!”

Eddie smiled. ”Of course we’re still friends, Y/N. But me and Chrissy... it’s going so well and she’s so sweet. You know how it is, in the beginning, when you’ve just started dating right?”

You shook your head. ”No. I don’t,” you said, looking down on your feet.

Eddie’s face fell. ”Well, maybe if you got out there and tried dating someone and have a little fun you would know. Why don’t you try it? You might be surprised.”

”There’s no one else I want,” you mumbled and Eddie rolled his eyes.

”Look, Y/N, Chrissy is my girlfriend now, and girlfriends... well, I’m sorry but they should come first, shouldn’t they?”

”We’ve been best friends for years, you’ve known Chrissy for what? Two months? I’m not saying you can’t have a girlfriend, I just...”

”Wait, wait...” Eddie said, frowning,”what do you mean there’s no one else you want?”

You blushed. ”Nothing, it was nothing.”

”So you do have feelings for someone? Why don’t you try asking them out?”

You felt your frustration throb inside your head and groaned. ”That won’t work.”

”Why not?”

”Because it’s you, you idiot!” you screamed, tears rising in your eyes.

Eddie stared at you like you had grown a second head. ”Me?”

”Yes! I... I’ve been in love with you ever since middle school, Eddie...”

”Since middle school?!”

”Yes.”

For a moment there was nothing but silence between you two, except an occasional sniffle from you.

”Why are you telling me this now?” Eddie said, his voice monotone.

”I... I didn’t mean to, I just... I miss you so much and I feel really hurt that you can just... quit me, like I mean nothing! Even if you don’t feel the same...”

”You’re damn right I don’t feel the same!” Eddie exclaimed. ”Why the hell are you telling me this now, when I’m already dating someone? If you wanted to spend more time with me, that’s the last thing you should have done! Now you’ve ruined everything!”

You gasped. ”What?”

”Yeah! How do you think Chrissy will feel about this? I definitely can’t hang out with you now, knowing you have feelings for me. She’s going to freak out.”

He was worried about how Chrissy would react?

”Well... then I suppose it will end here,” you whispered, your voice broken. ”You know me, Eddie, you know I would’ve never cross any boundaries if you weren’t okay with it. But clearly I didn’t mean as much to you as I thought. What was I – a distraction until something better came along?”

Eddie’s eyes widened. ”Of course not! I only meant... Chrissy is my girlfriend! She won’t be happy that I hang out with someone that has feelings for me. Would you if the roles were reversed?”

”I think you made it quite clear that that would never happen,” you said, wiping your eyes. ”It doesn’t matter. I can’t help my feelings and you can’t help yours. But... I need some distance, Eddie. I guess that works out good for you, protecting Chrissy’s feelings.”

Now Eddie was starting to look worried again. It was clear that even though he didn’t feel the same about you as you did him, he hadn’t expected that it might end your friendship.

”You want to punish me for not being in love with you? I can’t control something like that.”

You immediately got angry. ”Is that what you think of me? No! But you said it yourself – you can’t hang out with me now because you know I have feelings for you. And you pick Chrissy,” you told him, not being able to hold back the bitterness in your voice.

”It’s not about picking! You’re still my best friend, but Chrissy...”

”I can’t just forget that I’m in love with you,” you told him with a roll of your eyes. ”However much I wish I could.”

”Yeah, I wish you could too,” Eddie said, realizing too late how cruel he sounded. ”I wish this conversation never happened. What good did it do that you told me this?”

 As if he wanted to twist the dagger in your heart even more. You inhaled sharply but didn’t reply.

You made a silent wish when you turned around and walked out of the door of his trailer.

I wish I could forget everything about you, Eddie Munson. It would make it so much easier.  

You immediately drove to Family Video, knowing that both Robin and Steve was working today. As you walked inside Robin’s eyes widened at the sight of your red-rimmed eyes.

”Y/N! What happened?” she wondered as she grabbed your arm and pulled you behind the counter.

You told her and Steve everything, knowing you could trust them.

Robin pulled you in for a hug and Steve muttered something about kicking Eddie’s ass, which made you laugh.

”Steve, don’t be silly. I mean... he’s right. He can’t help how he’s feeling. He likes Chrissy, he doesn’t like me like that. I can accept that – no one can control their feelings. It’s the way he’s acted toward me until now. I guess I can understand why he wouldn’t want to hang out with me knowing I’m in love with him, because it would make it awkward for Chrissy.

”Maybe. But he was still insenstive toward you,” Steve said, shaking his head. ”Nothing should get in the way of friendship.”

”Yes. But... I can’t deny that he has a point. I would probably be uncomfortable if the roles were reversed, like he said,” you admitted.

Steve still thought Eddie had been a jerk to you. Especially since Eddie had told Steve that he knew that this thing with Chrissy might only last until she left for college. That Eddie was willing to throw away a friendship for something that was just temporary... that was such a mean thing to do.

”I’m just going to go home, lick my wounds and...”

”... have lots of chocolate!” Robin interrupted. ”Take whatever you need, on the house. You want me to come over after I’m done here?”

”No, thank you, I want to be alone. But I’d love some chocolate and slasher movies. Then I can watch someone else get fucked up instead of me,” you half-joked.

Less than ten minutes later you left Family Video, stocked with ice cream, chocolate bars and a couple of movies in your arms that you put into the backseat, before starting your car and driving towards home.

You thought once again about Eddie. You knew your feelings for him wouldn’t disappear – it wasn’t like you hadn’t tried that before.

Maybe you two would never be the same again. And you would have to live with that pain, while he cozied up to Chrissy. The girl that hadn’t said ’iota’ when her ex boyfriend tormented Eddie, tormented you and the rest of the gang.

You were so deep in your thoughts that you didn’t see the little girl cross the road until it was almost too late.

With a yelp you sharply turned the wheel, just noticing the blue little blossoms she was dropping onto the road before a large tree appeared in front of you.

As a large crash rumbled into your ears, the windowshield turning into a web of cracks and your head hitting the steering wheel with a force that made it feel like your skull exploded, you swore you could hear a small little voice chiming ”he loves me, he loves me not.”

Was it the little girl?

Then everything went black.

Eddie was still at home, waiting for Chrissy to call him after practice, thinking about what had happened with Y/N.

That she’d had feelings for him, so long. How could he not have noticed? The two of them were best friends after all!

When he remembered how her face had fallen and how she told him that she would keep a distance... it made his heart ache. Y/N had been a constant in his life for so many years. It was hard to imagine a life without her.

But Chrissy was his girlfriend now. A girlfriend had to come first! Right?

A girlfriend he hadn’t even bother planning a future with because he knew there wasn’t one...

He tried to imagine his life without Chrissy. If he had to be honest with himself… it didn’t feel quite as sad as he thought it would – because  it wouldn’t make much of a difference from how he had lived until now.

Then he tried to imagine a life without Y/N.

That. That hurt. It felt like someone had punched him in the ribs.

That’s when the phone rang. And it wasn’t Chrissy.

Eddie stormed into the hospital, seeing the children, Steve, Robin, Nancy and Jonathan in the waiting room.

”How is she?” he breathed out.

”What are you doing here? Won’t your girlfriend feel ’awkward’?” Steve couldn’t help but ask.

Eddie froze in his steps, staring at Steve.

Robin patted Steve’s arm. ”Not now, Steve,” she said, glancing over to the younger teenagers.

Dustin, whom had been the one to call Eddie, looked up at him. ”A little girl walked out into the road and Y/N swerved to avoid hitting her, but she ended up crashing into a tree instead.”

”And?” Eddie wondered, breathing fast as he imagined Y/N’s car crashing into a tree, how scared she must have been.

”We don’t know. She’s hit head pretty badly on the steering wheel and has some cuts from the glass. She was unconscious when they brought her in with the ambulance,” Dustin continued. ”We don’t know if she got any other injuries, right now we’re just... waiting.”

Eddie nodded and sat down. Steve was pacing back and forth in the waiting room and when he was beside Eddie, turning around for the fifteenth time he spat: ”You sure you want to wait here with us? What about Chrissy? Don’t want to keep her waiting, right?”

Eddie glared at Steve. ”Y/N’s my best friend, of course I want to be here.”

”Really?” Steve questioned, tapping his chin. ”Your best friend? No, that doesn’t sound right. Not when Y/N herself told me that you picked Chrissy over her and that she had, ’ruined everything’.”

Eddie paled, realizing that Steve knew what had happened. What he had done. ”That’s... I didn’t mean... ”

”Enough, you two,” Dustin said, but with the way he looked at Eddie, Eddie once again felt like someone had punched him in the ribs. ”Y/N is going to want all of us here when she wakes up. We’re here for her, so quit your dick measuring contest!”

Both Eddie and Steve’s eyes widened as they stared at Dustin cursing them out before it got quiet again.

Eddie didn’t fail to notice though, that while the others spoke among each other, no one spoke to him.

It felt like they had been waiting for years when Y/N’s mother finally came out into the waiting room to talk to them all.

”Y/N... she’s most likely going to be fine. The seat belt broke a couple of ribs as well as the force of the crash, which punctured a lung, but they have repaired it now. She’s also gotten a pretty hard knock to the head when she hit the tree. I know you’re all eager to see her, and I understand that, but she’s very tired from them repairing the lung and pain medication. She needs to rest. But I will tell her you are all thinking about her.”

The others sighed, but nodded and got up. Robin gave Y/N’s mother a hug and Nancy spoke kindly to her, telling her especially what she wanted Y/N  to know.

Eddie seemed to be the only one that noticed something was off. He knew Y/N’s mother well and he could tell that she was holding something back. So he pretended like he was going to the vending machine to get a snack when the others trooped out.

Then he stayed in the waiting room, until finally, an hour later, Y/N’s mother went outside again, seemingly going to get a cup of coffee.

Then Eddie quickly snuck into Y/N’s room.

The first he felt was relief. She was lying back against the pillow, the whole right side of her face purple and blue from the hit and an oxygen tube in her nose, probably to help the injured lung. A few cuts on her forehead but not deep enough that she’d needed stitches.

She was even awake, looking out the window with tired eyes. He had been terrified she’d been in a coma.

”Y/N!” Eddie exclaimed and saw how she jerked, grimacing from the pain, which made him feel bad for scaring her, and then she turned her gaze towards him. ”Sweetheart! I’m so sorry... when I heard... you can’t imagine how that...”

Y/N’s eyes widened and she shied away as if she was afraid of him and Eddie frowned, taking a step closer, ”Y/N, what’s wrong? Are you angry with me? I understand that, but...” Y/N looked into his eyes, asking in a monotone voice: ”I’m sorry... do... do I know you?”

Eddie frowned, not understanding. For a moment he thought Y/N was joking with him, but the expression in her eyes... confusion, fear... not a hint of recollection.

He heard the door open behind him and Y/N’s mother gasp. ”Eddie! I told you...”

Y/N’s mother hurried over to Y/N’s bed, taking her hand. ”I’m sorry, dear. This... this is Eddie,” she told Y/N, her voice calm as if she was comforting a scared child.

”Do I know him?” Y/N wondered, voice small and trembling. “I… I don’t… remember?”

That’s when Eddie understood.

The hit to Y/N’s head had affected her memory. She didn’t know who he was.

taglist: @ali-r3n @animechick555 @h-ness1944 @eddie-is-a-god

@rainybloo28 @megatronmunson @quinnyficsy @jenniquinn @melodymunson

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[spideyhexx]

Billy knew he didn't actually hate you, but it was the only front he'd been able to put up.

Ever since you joined his gang, you've been a thorn in his side. Your constant teasing and that sickeningly sweet smile that played on your lips every time his jaw clenched at your words would send him into a spiral. It's like you always knew the right way to thread words together to make him mad.

He admits to himself he's taken with you. He sees your beauty and understands the intrigue that other men express with ease towards you, but there's just a coil inside him that tightens with anger whenever words fall out of your pretty mouth.

Billy felt poisoned by you. You occupy every part of his mind. He isn't even sure how he's supposed to do his job when he's only thinking about your voice. Or the way you called him out for staring while you sipped on your drink. Or when he saw you come out of your tent, buttoning your shirt up and you just had to comment on his blush.

This morning would be like any other. Everyone is scattered, eating their breakfast. Billy leans up against a post and does the same.

"Mr. Bonney, I recall being promised an extra piece of bread," he hears you from behind him and you swoop in, taking his already half-eaten piece of bread from him. "I reckon that was Jesse, not me," his eyes pierce daggers into you, but it somehow never phased you. At least on the outside.

On the inside, you wanted to melt from his gaze but you're smarter than that. You knew how to keep yourself composed, so all Billy saw was a calm expression and a smile as you ate what was left of his bread.

He'd roll his eyes so hard, you'd think he wanted you to hear it. He stalks off towards a small group of his men who've gathered around to talk. You trail behind him, watching his arm flex as he reaches for his hat and puts it on his head, adjusting it only slightly before leaving it. You always like his hat and the way his little brown curls would peek out in tufts from it. The attraction you had for him was overwhelming at times but the power you felt when you got him so pissed off was enough to fuel your aching feelings for him.

A wild thought enters your mind as he comes to a halt, you a few paces behind him. Annoying him was the epitome of fun for you and why not start the day off strong? Without another thought, you sneak up behind him and yank his hat off of his head, backing away quickly as he turns on instinct, his hand at his gun. He relaxes when he notices it's just you.

"Give me that back," he snaps as the other boys whistle in amusement.

They were all used to your antics by now and loved it when you challenged Billy. You seemed to be the only person to really get under his skin so it was for their amusement too.

A taunt plays at the tip of your tongue like venom. "You gonna catch me?" You tighten your grip on his hat, a smile still on your lips as his mouth opens to say something, but nothing comes out.

Billy's mind is racing. He's still tired and he only got to eat half of his food cause of you and now you have his hat of all things. All he feels like he can do at that moment is let out a little chuckle, shaking his head.

He begins to walk towards you and you both circle one another as all attention is focused on the two of you. "We both know I can run faster than you, sweetheart," Billy tries. He tries so hard to not come off as irritated as he is but it's so obvious. You loved that about him.

His brow is knitted and his lips purse in frustration when you shake your head. "You think so little of me, Bonney."

The two of you circle one another for a bit. You want to just run but you're waiting to see his first move. Billy on the other hand doesn't think you would even run. He knows he can very easily get a few steps closer and grab his hat from you. He's trying to study your face like he wants to read your thoughts, but he just can't. You're too good, too concealed.

"You too scared, Bonney?" A few of the men around you snicker at that and you feel your smile turn into more of a smirk as Billy's face emits more anger. He swallows hard, nose flaring as he watches you like prey. But then again, maybe he's the prey. He takes two steps to move forward and you tsk before turning heel and dashing away.

"Fuck!" He curses as the men laugh and he takes off after you. Billy had to admit that you were faster than he thought, but he still caught up enough to try and reach out his hands to grab you. You spin out of his grasp, his fingers barely grazing your waist before you run off again.

You don't miss the way he lets out a groan and you so badly wish you could turn around and see the look on his face, but you book it. The land is vast where you are, so much room and you take that advantage.

When you're a decent distance away, you stop, "you're pretty slow, Bonney!" You watch him heave it as he keeps running after you and you decide to slow your pace as you continue. Maybe he's had enough. And maybe you wanna see his handsome face up close again.

The lake comes into view as you run and Billy nears closer to you. It's like the adrenaline kicked in for him full-time as you feel your own heart pounding, just waiting to feel him catch you.

When Billy gets close enough to grab you, and he does. His hands grip onto your waist hard and he's tugging you close to him as you let out a shriek. The force of this, however, with both of you running and the hold he's got on you makes him lose his footing. He falls onto the ground, bringing you down with him.

He takes most of the fall and you land on top of him, his grasp on you so fucking tight. Despite the wind being knocked out of him for a moment, Billy's made aware of how your ass is now pressing right against his crotch and it takes every nerve in his body to not just buck his hips up against you to continue the sensation that's rocketing throughout his body in that instant. He knows he's digging his fingers tight on your hips and it gives his clouded mind all the more reason to grind against you, but he doesn't. His grip loosens.

He tries to sit up after a moment and that's when he realizes you're...laughing? Laughing so hard as you roll off of him onto your back next to him in the grass.

You both pant from exhaustion and you place Billy's hat on his chest, patting it before continuing in your fit of laughter. He looks at you with his brow raised. Billy's never had such conflicting emotions course through him before, but he knew he loved the sight of you laughing this hard. And that it was him and only him.

He really did his best to keep his lips from quirking up into a smile, but you were already looking at him. "oh don't hide it, Mr. Bonney, you loved that," you get out as you continue to laugh and that's when Billy noticed you were crying from it.

And all Billy could do, despite whatever had been holding him back, was smile and laugh along.

He drops his head into the grass as you sit up and wipe at your eyes. Billy can't take his eyes off of you. The morning sun hits you perfectly and he's even seen you laugh like this. For this one moment, any anger you've caused him dissipates, and he's left only with some sort of happiness.

You finally look back at him and notice the slight flush on his cheeks as he stares up at you. You try to return your breathing to normal as you glance at his hat, but then you see something else.

"Are you hard right now?" Billy lifts his head up, moving his hat from his chest, and sees his arousal from the situation had been more than he might've expected and he looks at you as you try to hold in your laughter.

"Sweetheart, don't-" but you're already cackling and Billy accepts his defeat in the matter, watching you with a squint in his eyes due to the sun and a smile on his lips.

let's chat about billy, here :)

[minjify]

LOVE LANGUAGES ʚɞ ot6

BOYNEXTDOOR — ot6 synopsis love languages they mostly show p bnd x reader g established relationships skinship fluff petnames not proofread w 600

notes ; first post yayy

박성호 — PARK SUNGHO

words of affirmation

“has anyone ever told you how lucky they are to have you in their lives?”

that caught you off guard. you knew it shouldn’t come as a surprise anymore but it always does. his tendency to suddenly say things like that.

he had no idea how much it affects you, the love for him you already had kept filling up much more with every word he says.

“no” you say, nonchalantly, however, “you’re the first one i think” if only he knew how loud your heart was beating right now. or how you were fighting all the urge to kiss him at that moment.

“well i should say it more often then” he says, then going back to taking a spoonful of his food like he didn’t just uttered words that would keep you awake at night.

김동현 — KIM DONGHYUN

quality time

no matter how busy you both can be, leehan will find a way to be beside you. knocking on your door on a random thursday finding you slumped over your textbooks.

he would promptly drag you out of your room ignoring your groans and complaints. grabbing your jacket out of your closet and draping it over your figure.

“i need to study, hannie”

“you need a quick break, babe” he would say softly before sliding in your shoes and tying the shoelaces.

20 minutes later, you both ended up hand in hand savoring the ice cream under the sun by the park. leehan listening to you rambling about whatever has been going on with your life and smiling dumbly.

한동민 — HAN DONGMIN

physical touch

taesan didn’t notice it, but even if you two are together silence would usually seep in between your small talks.

you both would just suddenly stop talking and ultimately you, yourself would end up sleeping sprawled on top of him while on the couch.

it was still sunny outside, but the open curtains and the breeze and maybe the feel of taesan holding you had lulled you.

his hands firmly on your waist, rubbing smooth circles, unaware you were already dozed off, far too engrossed into the article he picked up.

his hand subconsciously trails up to lay on your head, patting and carving his fingers through.

when he finds out you were fast asleep he’d attempt to carry you to the bedroom so you’d feel more comfortable. just for him to end up cuddling you closer.

“sleep well, baby”

이상혁 — LEE SANGHYEOK

gift giving

riwoo would get you gifts at any moment he deems commendable. if it weren’t for his whines to get you to open the gifts you reckon your living room can be filled with just the mailboxes he get shipped to your house.

would never let you buy anything with your money under his watch. he got to know the things you liked and if anything reminded him of you, he’d immediately buy it with just one look.

“it’s okay, baby, it looks cute on you” smiling at your pout, admiring the way the glasses perched adorably on your nose.

after you decide it wasn’t all that bad, he offered to buy you a few more pairs only to get turned down by a firm ‘no’.

he’d show up at your doorstep a week later, however, with two or maybe three boxes on his hands. ready for them to be tried on.

명재현 — MYUNG JAEHYUN

acts of service

your nature of always being a hard worker especially at school burdened not only you at times, but jaehyun as well. well, not entirely, but he felt that burden anyway.

he hated two things — seeing you hunched over papers and textbooks and second, your awfully heavy backpack that you just have to bring to school everyday.

jaehyun always wondered why you couldn’t have left some of the books at school or at home, but whenever he brought it up you’d just brush it off continuing to carry your bag all the way home.

he kept up with it for some time. until it annoyed him to lengths and he’d end up holding the bag for you anyway. even if you had tried to reach back for it with a few curses and a hit on his arm.

“you shouldn’t carry this much, your back will hurt” he mumbles, looking away. “let me carry them for you, i’m stronger anyway”

김운학 — KIM WOONHAK

physical touch

you were never keen of too much touching. there were definitely a lot of other ways to show your affection towards someone and you felt that excessive skinship was not your personal favorite.

that was until you met woonhak. even before dating he was already clingy, not as close as he is now but clingy enough.

he needs to be holding you some way, feeling like something’s out of place if he didn’t. and it grew on you. whenever you both were out or just conveniently together, his elbows would be touching yours or your hands would be intertwined.

woonhak loved late study nights, but not for the obvious reasons. he loves when you both would take the bus ride back home and you’d fall asleep on his shoulder. it was one if the moments where he realizes you felt completely safe with him and he can’t help but adore you much more.

he loves the way you would slowly blink your eyes open confusedly when he softly wakes you up as the bus arrives at your stop and how, for a change, you’d get clingy instead of him.

[mxlti-fand0m-imaginess]

Samantha // Sam Carpenter

request: none!

prompts: none!

summary: being with sam has brought you nothing but happiness, and these memories with her only prove how perfect the two of you are for each other.

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, brief allusions to smut, language, mentions of roachie kirsch

word count: 1.9k

a/n: fem!reader, i was gonna make it gn!reader but the song this fic is based on is sapphic so i felt like i should keep it that way, no ghostface au

join my taglist! album masterlist!

I think I've been yours since 4th grade

We met in 5th, you corrected me

From my bed, and I said

Technically since 2nd but I reckon the time has just flown by and my

Memory's shit, so

You smiled to yourself as you gazed at your girlfriend, Sam, who was currently asleep beside you. Despite your protests, she had claimed that she wasn’t too tired to watch a movie like the two of you had been planning. And yet, not even half an hour in, she was fast asleep on the couch, her head resting on your shoulder as she curled up beside you. No matter how many times you looked at her, you could never get over how beautiful she was.

For as long as you could remember, Sam was always there. You had gone to elementary school together, and finally became friends during middle school. High school and college came and went, and the two of you continued to grow impossibly closer. Sometimes it was hard to tell where you ended and where she began. And as time went on, feelings began to change, and the friendship between the two of you started to become something more. 

Falling in love with someone that you had known for so long was indescribable. There was no awkward talking stage or embarrassing first dates. Everything just felt so natural. So right. Like she was the only person you would ever need, and she had already been there the whole time. You draped your arm over her shoulders and pulled her closer to you, taking the blanket that was lying on your lap and placing it over her.

You grabbed the remote and turned the movie off. You could always just finish it some other time. You leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, before resting your head on top of hers.

“Goodnight, my love.”

But all I ever remember is you

And all I ever say is "I miss you more"

You're everything that I ever knew

You're the only girl that I am for

“I’m the first girl you’ve ever been with, right? Is it any different from being with a guy?” you asked, tilting your head slightly as you looked over at Sam.

She nodded, a smile breaking out on her face. “It’s so different. And so much better. You actually know how to listen and you’re so much more affectionate.” The smile on her face turned into a teasing smirk. “Plus, you actually know how to make me cum.”

Your face heated up in a blush, her comment flustering you instantly. You grabbed a pillow from beside you on the couch, chucking it at her as an embarrassed laugh fell from your lips.

“Sam!” you scolded, giggles still spilling from your mouth in disbelief.

She shrugged before throwing the pillow right back at you. “What? It’s true! I’m pretty sure Richie didn’t even think the clit was real.”

You let out another snort of laughter. “God, I still can’t believe you ever even dated him. You can do so much better than that… thing.”

“I am doing better. I have you.”

Samantha, I'm in love with you

I'll do anything you ask me to

You're the reason that I dyed my hair blue

Samantha, I'm in love with you

And I'll sing it again and again

“Oh my god! What did you do to your hair?!” Sam asked, a disbelieving smile on her face as she struggled to hold back her laughter.

You had attempted to dye your hair blue to surprise her, since she had always been very fond of the color. You thought it might’ve made her happy, to have another one of her favorite things to associate with you. Unfortunately, you hadn’t been the best in picking the color. You were hoping for something more subtle, the kind of blue that looked black, with the colorful hue only visible in the light. What you ended up with was a bright and vibrant color, bordering on neon. You were upset, understandably so, and Sam’s joyful laughter at your predicament did nothing to ease your frustration.

 “It was supposed to be a surprise. You said that blue was your favorite color, so I thought I’d dye my hair blue. It wasn’t supposed to be this bright!” you huffed, leaning back against the bathroom counter as you pouted.

“You look like a smurf threw up on you!” 

You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile. “Ha ha. Very funny. Can you help me? There’s gotta be some way to fix this.”

She nodded, walking over to you. “Alright, let’s see what I can do. This color is probably not gonna come out, so we’re gonna have to dye it black.”

You frowned as you looked at your reflection in the mirror. “At least we can match.”

She smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Or, we could always just shave it off.”

The look on your face alone was enough to send Sam into another fit of laughter. You glared at her, trying to seem angry or at least even a little bit annoyed, but you couldn’t ever hold it together around her that long. Her smile was contagious and her laughter was infectious. Just being around her had a way of lifting your mood. But you wouldn’t want it any other way.

There aren't words to describe

The way I feel about your eyes

And everything I write sounds cliche, but

I can't help that I think about you every day

“Why’re you staring at me? Is there something on my face?” Sam asked, reaching up to her mouth to see if some of her lunch was still left on her skin.

You simply smiled and shook your head. “No, nothing’s there. You’re just so beautiful. How could I not stare at you?”

Though she tried to hide it, you could see the faint blush spreading on her cheeks and that flustered smile of hers that never failed to fill your insides with a swarm of butterflies. You reached out and took her hand in yours, intertwining your fingers as you smiled over at her. You pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, causing the faint blush on her cheeks to deepen ever so slightly, filling you with a sense of pride. 

“I love you. You know that, right?” you asked, your smile never once faltering. 

“Of course I do. You only tell me like every five seconds.” She smiled over at you. “Not that I mind it in the slightest.”

“I just still can’t believe that I’m with you. That we’re together. It feels like a dream. You’re just so perfect. Like every single thing I could’ve ever wanted in a partner, all rolled up into one person.”

She rolled her eyes, her smile never leaving her face. “Oh please. I am far from perfect. If anything, you’re the perfect one here. I mean you put up with all my shit. Just being able to do that is perfect enough.”

“I do not put up with you. I love everything about you and I love being with you. Despite what you may think about yourself, you are not difficult to be with. Richie just couldn’t handle all your perfectness and awesomemazingness.”

She raised an eyebrow at you. “That’s not a word”

You shrugged, smiling defiantly. “Well, it should be. Because it describes you perfectly.”

“Oh does it now?”

“It does.”

Before Sam could respond, you leaned in and pulled her into a kiss, silencing any other protests about to leave her lips. You knew she was perfect, and even if she didn’t agree with you, you could damn well at least stop her from voicing those thoughts. And you knew that one day, you would convince her.

And every night

And every morning

And afternoon

And all the time

Sam laughed in disbelief as she looked down at her phone, scrolling through all of the messages you had sent her in the past hour. 

“Baby, I told you I wasn't going to be gone long. I was just down the street getting groceries. Did you really need to text me that many times?”

Most people would be annoyed with your clinginess, but not Sam. She liked how clingy you were, how obsessed you were with her. It’s harder to doubt someone’s feelings for you when they never leave you alone long enough to get lost in spiraling thoughts. She had been gone for an hour to go get groceries, and you had texted her almost fifty times during your time apart.

“Yes. I really did need to. How else would you know about everything you missed while you were gone?”

She sighed in faux exasperation, her smile giving away her true feelings. “You sent me ‘bird in tree chirped’ like five times!”

“Six, actually. And I thought you should know, because that happened to be a very cute bird. I wouldn’t text you if I didn’t think it was important.”

She let out a huff of laughter as she walked over to you, pulling you into a hug and kissing the top of your head. You melted into the embrace, wrapping your arms around her waist and pulling her closer.

“You’re lucky you’re so adorable.”

“Oh, please. You love me and you know it.”

But all I ever remember is you

And all I ever say is "I miss you more"

You're everything that I ever knew

You're the only girl that I am for

“Can’t you just call in sick today?” you whined as you clutched onto Sam, preventing her from getting out of bed to get ready for work. 

“Baby, you know I can’t. We need the money. And since you decided you wanted to be the housewife, I’m the one who has to go to work. But if you want to swap, I’d be more than happy to,” she smiled, a teasing lilt to her voice.

You huffed, a slight pout forming on your face. “No…”

“Then you have to let me get up. I can’t exactly get ready for work if I’m still stuck in bed.”

“Do you have to get up right now? Can’t you wait just a little longer? Maybe spend an extra few minutes paying attention to your oh-so amazing girlfriend?” You looked at her pleadingly, using your best puppy dog eyes to persuade her.

“Y/n…” Sam started, only for all her rebuttals to wash away the second you started pressing gentle kisses to her neck.

“You know you want to…” you said, your hands slipping beneath her shirt.

“You know what? I think I have a flat tire. How unfortunate that I’m gonna be late to work since I had to get it fixed.”

You smiled triumphantly, rolling onto your back and pulling Sam on top of you. Even though she puts in effort to try to deny you, droning on and on about work and responsibilities, she can never say no to you. You had the ability to make her resolve crumble with just one look, and she couldn’t find it in her to deny you when all you ever really wanted was more time with her. And so, another morning was spent fooling around in bed before Sam rushed off to work, yet another excuse for her lateness at the ready. And you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Samantha, I'm in love with you

I'll do anything you ask me to

You're the reason that I dyed my hair blue

Samantha, I'm in love with you

And I'll sing it again and again

tags: @Hocksetterrs

if your name is crossed out, it means i can't tag you!

[stvrpst]

It’s still crazy to me how some people really think Buck actually wanted Tommy’s attention and not Eddies when Buck literally came out of his mouth and admitted to trying to gets Eddies attention before he even lied straight through his teeth claiming he was trying to get Tommy’s.

And then people are like “He wanted both” ??? Look, I’m not gonna even sit here and say that Buck didn’t at least have an ounce of interest in Tommy, because if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have showed up to see Tommy in the first place.

However, it's pretty clear that Buck only ever tried to get close to Eddie during that entire episode. There was not a single instance where Buck attempted to get Tommy's attention. Had he genuinely desired both, he would have exerted himself to get them both, but he did not.

That's the the exact reason why tommy goes "my attention?" At the end of 7x04 because Buck literally was only pursuing for Eddies and even Tommy clocked that himself.

Like, the whole reason why the situation bothered Buck so much was because Tommy had gotten so close and left an impression in Eddie and Christopher’s lives in such a short span of time. So Buck felt fucking threatened because he has never seen anyone be as close to Eddie and Chris besides himself.

And that’s the exact reason why in 7x04, when he goes to vent to Maddie, he is seen grilling the fuck out of Tommy instead of showing genuine interest. If you have a genuine crush, I guarantee you, you don’t go and talk shit about them to your sister💀

“Eddie just met the guy like, two weeks ago, and Christopher thinks he’s so cool”

“try telling Christopher that, he likes Tommy because he does the controls. I was like Chris, it’s not a video game”

“Maybe it’s just me, but I don’t think you lie to a child just to ingratiate yourself.”

“Well Chris wouldn’t stop talking about him.”

It amazes me how many people watch that scene and still think Buck really likes Tommy.

I also wanted to bring up the prospect that Tommy may not genuinely be interested in Buck, as evidenced by his lack of interest in him while they are together. If he was, he would have taken action from the start. Tommy did not demonstrate any desire in liking buck or initiating a relationship with Buck at any point in the show but towards the end after Buck claimed he wanted Tommys attention. Which by the way, is a weird way to go about things.

If he wanted to, he would have. Tommy is a pretty confident guy, as the show has already shown, so asking out buck is light work for him, yet he made no attempt to ask Buck out. And take note of the fact that until Buck claimed he was attempting to catch Tommy's attention, Tommy never expressed a liking for Buck or made any moves.

Another thing I've noticed is that Tommy has stated his jealousy and envy of the 118s dynamics at least 2-3 times. If anything, Tommy started something with Buck because being with someone from the 118 would allow him to experience some of the family dynamics there, but I digress.

Returning to my original argument, this conversation between Buck and Maddie reveals in astounding detail why Maddie was taken aback when she learned that Buck was going on a date with Tommy. Maddie surmised that Buck was envious of Tommy rather than the other way around because his entire earlier outburst simply demonstrated his desire for Eddie. That's the reason she goes

"Eddies friend?!" Like, oh. You went on a date with Eddies friend and not Eddie?? you went on a date with the person you were so obviously bothered and threatened by because they were getting too close with Eddie?

Which gets me to my second point: when Maddie says, "Okay. I don't think you are a fraud. I just think you aren't sure about your own feelings yet, and if there's anything you need to tell Eddie, you will, in your own time." I reckon many people failed to take a step back and ask themselves why Buck felt like a fraud. Because, of course, we'd all think of the obvious reasons like 'oh, it's because he acted like an idiot' or 'oh, it's because he lied,' but this is Eddie we're talking about.

Because, in all honesty, Buck is aware that Eddie has no issues with queer people in general. He even had a brief friendship with Josh, who is gay, and is close to Hen, a lesbian. Though a little hesitant, Buck also had no trouble confessing that he liked a guy with Maddie; in fact, after making out with Tommy, he even strolled his ass into a room full of people with soot on his face.

In reality, Buck wasn't really "afraid" of people finding out. But with Eddie, things were very different. When it came to Eddie, he felt like a phony. Tommy was hardly acknowledged at all, and Tommy's feelings over his impetuous response were not even taken into account. Only Eddies.

People will say we "missed the plot" or that we’re "delusional", like no girl, this is the plot😭 The plot is that Buck clearly has feelings for Eddie, and the writers demonstrated this in 7x04 by using Buck's jealousy to highlight it, but buck being buck, he ends up mistaking these feelings for someone else.

They lead us on purpose, but not without providing a few hints for those with media literacy. There's a reason Buck and Tommy's entire buildup revolved around Eddie.

The plot isn't 'well, Buck was envious throughout 7x04, but we didn't know who he was jealous of; turns out he liked Tommy! That's a plot twist! No, Buck was jealous in 7x04, and we know exactly who he was jealous of, but the show purposefully led us astray and had him end up with the opposite person because they're doing the 'I'm in love with my best friend but don't know it' trope for Buck and possibly 'unrequited love but not actually unrequited love' for Eddie in season 8.

[coochiequeens]

An update to an older story that’s goods news!

When Jenny Nguyen signed the lease to create her dream bar, she wasn’t sure it would stay open for more than a few months.

But earlier this month, 43-year-old Nguyen’s first-of-its-kind establishment in Portland, Oregon, celebrated its one-year anniversary. Aptly named The Sports Bra, it’s a sports bar where only women athletes appear on the TVs.

Business has been good, despite the niche business model and record inflation sending food and beverage prices soaring. The Sports Bra brought in $944,000 in revenue in the eight months it was open in 2022, according to documents reviewed by CNBC Make It.

It was profitable in that first year of business, Nguyen adds.

“It turns out, it’s pretty universal — that feeling of being a women’s sports fan and going into a public place, like a sports bar, and having a difficult time finding a place to show a [women’s] game, especially when there are other men’s sports playing,” Nguyen says.

Initially, she wasn’t sure the idea would work at all. The vast majority of money and attention historically goes to men’s sports only — a big reason why The Sports Bra was reportedly the country’s first bar to only play women’s sports on TV.

It’s also not the kind of thing Nguyen would ordinarily do: She describes herself as “very cautious, risk averse.” But her obsession with women’s sports and frustration with its lack of representation on television screens drove her to empty her life savings — about $27,000 — and give it a try.

“Me, personally, I thought the idea was brilliant and that [it was] what the world needs,” Nguyen says. “But I had no idea that the world would want it. I just wanted to give it a shot.”

How The Sports Bra went from running joke to reality

Nguyen is a lifelong basketball fan who played the sport at Clark College in Vancouver, Washington, before tearing her ACL. She’s also a longtime restaurant worker who spent three years as Reed College’s executive chef.

In 2018, Nguyen and a group of friends wanted to watch the NCAA women’s basketball championship game. They went to a mostly empty sports bar and still had to plead with a bartender to switch one of the smallest TVs — which played without sound — from a men’s sport to the women’s championship game, she recalls.

Together, they jumped up and down celebrating “one of the best games I’ve ever seen,” Nguyen says, as a buzzer-beating three-point shot sealed the championship title for Notre Dame. Afterward, she was struck by the normalcy of her situation.

″[We’d] gotten so used to watching a game like that in the way that we did,” she says, adding that they’d only find better viewing conditions “if we had our own place.”

Days later, she channeled her disappointment into a hypothetical: What would she name her bar? “The very first thing that came into my mind was The Sports Bra,” Nguyen says. “And once I thought it, I couldn’t un-think it, you know? It was catchy. I thought it was hilarious.”

For years, she joked about it. Then, the fallout from social justice movements like #MeToo and the country’s racial reckoning after George Floyd’s murder left her wanting to make a meaningful impact on the world and her community.

Nguyen, who came out as a lesbian at age 17, says she doesn’t always feel welcome at most traditional sports bars. The Sports Bra could help her, and anyone else who’d rarely felt accepted in other sports establishments, feel like she belonged.

“I thought about, if we can even get one kid in here and have them feel like they belong in sports, it’d be worth it,” she says.

Helping other women’s sports bars get started

At first, Nguyen had her savings, and $40,000 in loans cobbled together from friends and family. That would keep The Sports Bra afloat for three months, based on her cost estimates for labor, inventory and other overhead.

In February 2022, she launched a Kickstarter to raise $48,000 — enough money for an extra six-month financial cushion, to build up the sort of regular clientele any bar or restaurant needs to survive long-term.

To Nguyen’s surprise, the campaign raised more than $105,000 in just 30 days, thanks to a viral article in online food publication Eater. “At that moment, when I was looking at that Kickstarter graph, I thought to myself, ‘This might work,’” she says.

But the money, which came from around the country and world, was no guarantee of success. Actual people in Portland still needed to frequent the bar.

Today, there’s often a line out the door. Women’s basketball icons like Sue Bird and Diana Taurasi showed up, for an event sponsored by Buick, earlier this month. Ginny Gilder, co-owner of the WNBA’s Seattle Storm, has even waited in line to watch her team play on The Sports Bra’s TVs, Nguyen says.

That’s a far cry from the Kickstarter days, which Nguyen says only happened after she was denied business loans by multiple banks and small business associations. The denials commonly cited the high risk of a unique concept run by a first-time entrepreneur during a pandemic, she adds.

Even the bar’s core concept is a struggle: It’s hard to find enough women’s sporting events to fill up the televisions. Only about 5% of all TV sports coverage focuses on female athletes, according to a 2021 University of Southern California study.

Nguyen says she’s taken to reaching out directly to sports networks and streaming services, some of which have hooked her up with access to more women’s sports content. She also spends an inordinate amount of time “scouring” TV listings, a process she likens to “taking a machete and chopping through a jungle.”

But she’s no longer alone. Another bar specializing in women’s sports has opened in nearby Seattle, and Nguyen says she’s in touch with a handful of other prospective entrepreneurs asking her for advice on opening similar visions in other cities.

“I would love to have as many people experience the feeling people experience when they walk through these doors,” she says. “It feels very selfish to keep it to this one building that holds 40 people at a time.”

[fyodior]

home.

✧ pairing: sigma x afab reader

✧ cw: breeding kink-ish, brief pregnancy mention, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, kinda just wholesome sex hehe

✧ notes: actually part of breedtober 2023 i never finished....... whoopsie. and this is my first time writing sigma so be gentle pls ♡♡ (divider by @/benkeibear)

✧ wc: 1.5k

“I want a family.” The statement is firm and final. Very unlike Sigma.

You choke on your tea. “You what?”

Sigma takes in a shaky breath before repeating the words you weren’t expecting to hear so suddenly. “I… want a family.” 

The two of you had “discussed” such things before, but only in passing. Only small lilts of I wouldn’t mind having a kid when playing with your nieces and nephews, or admiring baby clothes in the shops together. Small things. Noncommittal. Flippant, almost. Not bold. You weren’t quite used to that from your lover, which is why it takes you by surprise. 

“I see,” you nod, pondering the thought. The two of you together, with a baby - no, two babies, three, four. A house full of toddlers with purple hair, likely non-troublesome if they were to take after their father. Thoughts of a sleep deprived Sigma cradling an infant as he feeds it a bottle fill your head, and you smile. You, belly round for the second or third time, taking your oldest to their first day of kindergarten. The thoughts come easy - maybe the two of you were meant to be parents, to raise a family together.  

“Like… right now?”

It’s Sigma’s turn to reckon with your words, crossing his legs where he sits on the couch and sipping his tea. Clearly the thought had been stirring in his mind for a while - the man was nothing if not one to ruminate and contemplate. The blurted statement felt premeditated - not impulsive or hasty. 

In truth, it didn’t surprise you. Sigma had never been the best at verbalizing his feelings, always struggled a bit with truly letting you in, but you know how badly he yearned for a home. A space and things that were truly his and nobody else’s. You knew that extended to you, as more than anything else in the world he found a home in you, and you figured it was only natural to want to expand that. To extend that home and share it with others. To extensions of the two of you, the pillars of his home.

“And what would you do if I said yes?” 

What would you do? Would you demand he slow down? Spend more time thinking on something so permanent and utterly life altering? Something that could never be undone? Or… would you take the mug out of his hands and climb into his lap and straddle him? The answer proves to be the latter.

Sigma just smirks and rests his hands on your hips as you stroke his cheek, taking in his beauty. The curve of his nose, the plush of his lips, the subtle gray of his eyes. Everything that makes your lover himself. And by being himself, he became yours. 

Both of you stay silent as you press a gentle, exploratory kiss to his lips. He happily reciprocates, deepening it and licking past your lips to demonstrate his lust. Clearly he had been holding something in. What you didn’t see or hear yet was the blooming lust that hastened his heart and quickened his breath.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders and leaning against him, you grind down just a bit on his lap as you move your lips from his mouth to his jaw. Sigma groans lowly in response, humping against your ass ever so lightly. His already desperate movements contrast with the feather light kisses you’re pressing to the sharp angle of his jaw and throat. The grip he has on your hips tightens.

“Baby, please,” he grumbles. He wants more, but he’s never been any good at asking for it. 

You just chuckle in response. “You want more?”

“How else is that family gonna get started?” He was funny like that sometimes.

One more kiss to his lips is placed. “Let’s take this to the bedroom, yeah? Make it something special.”

Sigma didn’t need to hear anything else.  Hoisting you into his arms, you giggle flail in his hold as he carries you and ultimately lays you down upon your shared bed. The one you’ve made consummated your love and declared your home many, many a time. 

Despite growing harder and harder from your more than ideal response to what he desires so strongly, Sigma still dives in between your legs, sliding off your pants and nestling his tongue between your folds. It’s so sudden you gasp and grip the pillows, not expecting him to forego your usual period of making out and dry humping. But he’s so ready, and he needs you to be ready too. 

He licks a fat strip from your hole to your clit before sucking on the sensitive nub, letting drool dribble off his tongue and right onto it. After using them to gather some of your slick that had already begun to ooze from your cunt, two fingers find their way inside your hole and scissor open to stretch you out. The attention to your hole and clit at the same time has you reeling.

“Ngh- Sigma!” you cry out. He was always very talented with his tongue.

Your lover smirks. “Yeah, baby? That feel good?” His breath is hot against your sex, and all you could possibly want at this moment is his mouth back on you. He’ll oblige for a little bit. He’ll flick his tongue back and forth against your clit and run the flat of it along the length of your slit before letting it join his fingers, licking hot inside you as you squirm and cry out. But he won’t for long. Sigma of course wants to make you feel good, but to him, this lovemaking is very heavily concentrated on the making. 

Climbing his way up your body, he melds your mouths together to allow you to taste yourself. “Ready for more, pretty girl?” he smirks. 

You gulp before nodding. He makes quick work of shedding himself of his own clothes and pulling your top off – for some reason, it only feels right to do this while completely naked, completely vulnerable – and lining his aching cock up with your wet cunt. 

Sigma isn’t too hard to take – he has an average sized length and girth, but god does he know how to use it. Adjusting his hips to just the right angle he’s learned from countless sessions of lovemaking with you, he presses his cock inside, making you yelp as he immediately bottoms out, rubbing right up against your sweet spot in the process. The talent he has for making you fall apart so quickly is unmatched. To give himself the best access to fill you up with his cock, he pushes your knees to your shoulders and presses his hips right up against your ass. 

Even when he’s desperate and unimaginably horny, the man is always gentle with you. Everything he does, every move he makes and look he gives is always laced with love – he just can’t help it, not when it comes to you. The way you moan his name and cry for more as he rocks his hips into you is like a sonnet sung just for him, meant for no other ears aside from his own. And it’s intoxicating.

Lacing your fingers together, he ruts into you hard and deep, sinking all the way into you with every thrust. He thrusts with the fervor of a man who wants a baby so bad he’d give up any of his limbs if the gods themselves asked him to. With the strength, vigor, and pace of a man who loves you so much he wants nothing more than to build a home, build a family with you and bask in it for the rest of his life. 

He thrusts and thrusts and thrusts and makes you whine and cry until his sensitive cock is spitting his seed right into your cervix, praying that it soaks right into your womb. 

“How long have you been so sure about wanting a family, honey?” you ask later as you lay upon his bare chest, tracing lines between the freckles that litter his skin. 

He thinks for a moment, twirling locks of your hair between his fingers. This was always his favorite moment. The few hours after sex where the only thing you want is your bodies pressed to each other that your skin sticks and you’re not sure where one ends and the other begins. “My whole life, I think,” he finally replies. 

“Oh?”

“I’ve always known. I’ve always known I wanted you, whether or not I knew your name or face. And I’ve always known I wanted to build a home with you, for as long as I’ve been alive. And I’ll want it ‘til the day I die. I know it.”

You chuckle. He’s always had at least a little bit of a taste for the dramatic.

He laughs along with you. “It’s only because I love you so much,” he adds.

“I love you too, Sigma. But please know we’ll always be a home, a family together even if we always remain just the two of us. You are my family.”

The sincerity and strength behind your words make him smile. “And you are my family, my love. Always and forever.”

[moncharrow]

hii!! i saw you were taking requests so can u write an knight!ellie x princess!reader period piece?

it was never meant to be

a/n: thank you for the cool request! i don't know how i feel about this- never wrote for this time period before. it was a fun learning curve!! i hope you enjoy it. requests are open <3 please. please. tell me. smut or fluff or angst idc

-content/warnings: 1.8k words, fem!princess!reader x knight!ellie, arranged marriage/political marriage, mentions of reader having to marry a man, slight angst? happy ending though, feminine reader i suppose

You were a goddess amongst mortals, treading the Earth lightly and gracing the barren ground with flowering spring beauty. There was an elegance to your touch. Anyone blessed enough to know you were changed for the better, your kindness and charity caressing their soul like hundreds of dandelion wisps in the wind. Heads turned when you walked down the pathways, villagers hoping to get a glimpse of their beloved princess, to catch her stray gaze as she passed. You were the kind of person who would never be subject to malice; even if someone wished they could despise you, the love behind your eyes would soothe their violent minds. Your soul seemed to be sculpted by the hand of a creator who endowed you with pure goodness.

Ellie’s skin was etched with years' worth of hardship, mental fortitude carved into her perpetually crinkled brow. Dirt caked her bloodstream, poisoning her soul as it moved through her heart. Behind her eyes was no mercy, no forgiveness, only seeking vengeance on some imaginary being that had seen no value in her from the moment of creation. It seems the same deity that sculpted you had been corrupted as it created her, molding her heart of ashes and skin of rotten wood. She was a decades-old shattered, rusty sword thrown into a river. No value. No hope. Only a broken promise of a better future that had been forgotten.

​​But your merciful, generous sight had befallen her by some stroke of luck. You recognized something good within her and gave her the chance she'd always dreamt about. You sponsored her induction into knight training, looking past her fiery faults and into the essence of her spirit, finding a spark of virtue. You tended to it until the ember became a blaze, and Ellie Williams became a force to be reckoned with. Despite the whispers of naysayers around the castle, there was something honorable and just inside her. There would never be enough words in the English language for Ellie to express her gratefulness to you properly. Even if there were, she couldn't string them together- she was never skilled with words. Instead, her every step carried a purpose: to echo your goodness through her actions.

Every so often, she'd find a quiet moment and reminisce upon the years of hardship she'd endured in training. Initially, she'd been one of the weakest pupils, lanky and malnourished but with a lust for improvement. She would cry herself to sleep the first year, and every night, she'd sneak out to see the dear princess, who would hold her and assure her that she belonged. It took time, but Ellie began to believe her. She sought comfort from you night after night, conversation topics turning personal after Ellie’s mental health had begun to improve. You’d talk about nothing and everything: silly hypotheticals, stories of growing up. The juxtaposition between your upbringing and hers was comical, but you both found comfort in learning about each others’ lives. 

When Ellie was with you, she felt like her social status didn’t matter. She was just a girl, and you were just the girl she was in love with. The class difference didn’t matter and neither did the impossibility of being together. Just two girls in love, neither with the courage to admit it. 

The lingering touches turn into shy smiles as Ellie sits in your room. Ornate tapestries adorn the walls and silk kerchiefs cast you in warm golden light- you look like a sun goddess in a long linen dress, your well-manicured hand coming to rest on Ellie’s knee as you laugh at something she said. Her rude humor was a welcome change to the sterility of castle life. You grew tired of the roles forced upon you by your authoritative parents and court, and vastly preferred Ellie’s brash personality. Your parents would have a collective aneurysm if they knew you were mingling with the ‘peasant knight’ (their words, obviously), so the two of you were reduced to sneaking around. 

Ellie’s smile dropped a bit as she felt your touch through her trousers. Her head felt dizzy and she attempted to compose herself, finding it hard to focus when your touch was so delicate and warm. Your call of her name was like a siren song, impossible to ignore its dulcet velvety tones. “Ellie?”

“Yes, Princess?”

You scoff. “Stop with the title. You know I hate it.”

Ellie smiles. A selfish thought crosses her mind- she wishes you were born normal, born in the village like her instead of in an ivory tower. Maybe then, things could have worked out. “That’s why I use it.” You laugh again, and she feels her stomach turn. Why couldn’t you be like me?

-

A week later, Ellie’s thoughts are the opposite. You sit in the throne room, grandiose decor embellishing the great chamber. Lavish royal purple flags and bright maroon banners drop and fold along the walls. Opulent chandeliers of pure wrought iron hang from the ceiling, supporting crystal fixtures through which valuable beeswax candles bathe the room in light. Stained glass rose windows and fleur de lys seem to further isolate Ellie, who stands guard by your throne. Invasive thoughts plague her as she keeps her professional face. I don’t belong here. I never have. I wish I was like you- then I could take you away from here. The thoughts are heightened when she sees the reason the entire town is gathered under the concave.

Four suitors from across the land vie for your hand in marriage. Ellie bites her tongue, her taste buds flooding with a familiar metallic sting. 

They don’t really want you, not like I do. All they want is power. They don’t treasure your time or your kindness. You deserve more. 

She clutches her spear, posture erect, seeming the quintessential knight. Only you noticed how her hand shook with nerves, how she seemed to hold onto the weapon as if letting go would kill her.

Each suitor takes time to introduce themselves. They focus on their own qualities, never talking about why they would be honored to be with you. And they would be. You sit on your throne, deep purple taffeta draping your body elegantly as you cross your legs. Aphroditic, a Hellenistic Roman statue come alive. Romantic, expressive, nymphlike in every way. If you were Euydice, Ellie thinks she must’ve been Orpheus. The anticipation of witnessing you choose your husband (and thus leaving her) was beginning to affect Ellie physically. Her heart felt like it would die in her chest: she swore she felt an arrhythmia. 

First, the suitor from the East describes what he would gift you if wed. As if you would be swayed by material possessions. The suitor from the South notes his conquests. The changes in your expression are minute, but Ellie knows the look. You’re entirely disgusted, and she clears her throat to catch your attention. You look over, the unimpressed look still donning your face, but your eyes light up when you see her. Ellie smiles- a silent reminder: I’m still here for you. It’s like you’re the only two people in the room.

The Western suitor wears his pants inside out, and your eyes immediately meet Ellie’s. You cover your mouth with your hand, appearing classy while chuckling and snorting behind your cover. 

The Northern suitor is handsome and decent, Ellie reluctantly admits. She’s not blind. She hates that she doesn’t hate him. He expresses interest in you and vows to give you autonomy. It’s basic, but more than the others offered. She tries to read your expression and for once, she can’t. It makes her heart drop. 

After every suitor is introduced, you and your court go into the back room to discuss your final decision. The decision that, whomever you choose, will ruin Ellie. She stands guard before the door, straining her hearing to find some clue that you won’t marry these men. She begs silently to whatever immortal being watches over her. 

You haven’t done much for me. I haven’t asked for much. But I’ll do anything to stop this. Please. 

A knock at the door signals Ellie to move away. She takes your hand and leads you back to the throne. You sit, and Ellie has to will herself to let go of you. What if this is the last time she’ll be able to hold you? The thought nearly brings her to her knees. Her joints ache with every step she takes away from you, returning to her post in front of the chancel. Your father stands, his creaking bones the only sound in the room. Everyone holds their breath as he speaks.

It’s detached apolitical jargon that Ellie can barely pay attention to. She thinks that if she doesn’t listen, the situation won’t become real. To her dismay, your father ends his aloof speech and presents you. Sir Williams has never felt so sober.

Ellie watches with wide eyes as you stand. She peers up at you from below the stage, and she can’t help but realize what a perfect metaphor this is. You stand above her, gilded and unobtainable, while she looks up, dreaming of what could’ve been. Of course, she’ll support any decision you make, but she’ll never be happy with it. It seems time moves gruelingly slowly as she awaits your voice. At any other moment, she’d be hanging off your every word, waiting excitedly for what you have to share next. But now, she hopes the words never come.

You open your mouth, words leaving in slow motion. She wants to close your mouth to shut you up and kiss you so hard that you never think about anyone else again. She doesn’t.

“Dearest suitors, I thank you for coming here today. Your travels are long and treacherous and your efforts do not go unnoticed. As noted by my father, I have come to a decision regarding my spouse. I am firm in my choice, as this is the most chivalrous, goodhearted, and impressive person I have met. The only person who understands me.”

Ellie is used to you switching from your formal persona to your true self, but she never gets over it. It’s you, but it’s not you. You stroll along the chancel, in thought, and Ellie takes the chance to admire everything about you as if this is the last time she’ll be able to. Posture, gait, the way you hold yourself as if you’re sure about every action. She doesn’t know you’re terrified beyond belief.

Your finger comes out to point to a suitor. The great hall inhabitants draw a collective breath, Ellie included. You drag your finger from the right side of the stage, passing over the suitors of the East, South, and West. Ellie knows where this is going. Of course, you’ll choose North. He was the obvious choice, and she couldn’t fault you for that. And suddenly, your finger passes by him.

Ellie’s mind races. What’s happening?

Your body turns, and soon, Ellie stares down your hand, furrowing her brow. Her eyes are filled with childlike hope.

“Ellie Williams, if you’ll have me?”

[lurkingshan]

I've been thinking a lot about the depictions of generational trauma and parental accountability being presented in dramas lately. Since you've watched way more than me, especially outside of BLs, what are some shows that present or include parental accountability?

This is such a good question and one I have been thinking about a lot since Last Twilight episode 10 aired. Westerners often assume that because of Asian cultural norms around filial piety, parental authority, and respect for elders, we can never expect satisfying parental accountability in our Asian drama narratives. But that's not true! It's been done and done well. It’s because these values are so deeply embedded in most Asian cultures that Asian creators are the best positioned to speak on the harms they can cause, and will often embed these themes in their work.

Now, there is an important distinction to make here: the difference between what characters do, and what the story communicates. A character may choose to abide by honoring their parents at all costs, but the story can still communicate how harmful that is. A character may never apologize for something they have done wrong, but the story can still make it clear they have fucked up and hold them accountable for that via tangible consequences. Here are a few examples from bl to illustrate what I mean, and the different ways this can show up in dramas.

Bad Buddy

One of the most obvious examples of parental accountability in genre, and also a pretty full metal version of it. This entire story is about the damage Ming and Dissaya did their sons with their decades-long feud and insistence on pushing that trauma down on their children, and we got some extremely cathartic scenes of Pat and Pran telling their parents exactly what they thought about that. Of course, even though they raged at their parents, they never got the apologies they deserved (and likely never will) and still had to hide their relationship to appease their parents going forward. But that doesn't mean there was no accountability here. The entire narrative held these parents accountable by showing us how they were harming their sons, forcing them to reckon with it, and ultimately showing them settling into a form of resigned acceptance.

Until We Meet Again

This entire show is about Korn and In's reincarnated souls healing from the trauma of their tragic ending, which was brought upon by the familial pressure and rejection they experienced from their fathers. We not only saw Dean and Pharm work through this trauma and forge new bonds with family members, we saw the direct aftermath of their first deaths, the despair and regret their families felt, and the ceremony that tied their souls together as a result. It's big karmic accountability on a grand scale, and the show never flinched from letting us see exactly how much harm was caused by these parents, or how the tenets of filial piety resulted in Korn's despair that he couldn't be what his father wanted. Even more crucially, we were shown, not just told, the counterpoint impact of good parenting, when Dean and Pharm were accepted by their families in their second life.

Blueming

A rare example of an Asian parent being called to the carpet, feeling the wrongness of their actions, and actually apologizing for it. This does in fact happen in drama! Si Won's mom raised him to hate himself, to be ashamed of his body, to fake his way through life so people would like him, and boy did it do a lot of damage. The story showed us how this affected Si Won and his relationships deeply, and brought him to the point where it finally burst out of him. And his mom, to her credit, was dismayed to understand what she had done to her son. This show also gets bonus points for Da Un standing up to his own mother after she interferes in the film contest.

Bed Friend

Uea's mother's sins against him are numerous, and I will not go into them all in detail to spare my own sanity. She is an abusive parent so horrific that she can never be forgiven, and doesn't need to be. An apology from her would be utterly meaningless. Instead, the drama holds her to account via showing us what she's done to Uea and the work he has to do to heal from the trauma she caused, and ultimately having her son cut her out of his life. It's the biggest consequence she can ever face for her choices and that Uea finds the courage to do it is the story's biggest triumph.

What Did You Eat Yesterday?

On the subtler end of the scale, we have our beloved KNT, which weaves parental accountability through its story in the long, slow journey for Shiro's mother to accept who he is and the partner he has chosen in life. What I love most about this particular depiction is that it's not at all linear in nature. We see her make strides by finally acknowledging Kenji and inviting him to her home, and then backtrack by rescinding the offer due to her own discomfort, and then include him in her family planning to ensure he will be cared for after her death. She’s homophobic and traditional, but she loves her son and sees how much happier he is with Kenji in his life. She is constantly reckoning with that tension. And Shiro and Kenji, being of an older generation themselves, don't hold it against her, even as the show makes sure we understand how much it hurts them. They are not okay with it, but they do understand why she's like this, so they take what she can give and forgive the rest. It's a really touching portrayal of this kind of impasse in a family.

Moonlight Chicken

There are several different vectors of parental accountability in MLC. There is Heart confronting his parents over their neglect and abuse and finally demanding to be treated with dignity. There is Li Ming directly calling out his mother for how her life choices have affected him. And there is Li Ming and his surrogate dad, Jim, working out their issues so that they can communicate better, and so that Jim can learn to stop pushing his own fears and anxiety down onto the next generation. All of it handled with deftness, with care, and with clear purpose to examine the ways intergenerational trauma can perpetuate in the absence of accountability.

[wlntrsldler]

i feel may would get whiplash the first time he sees luke interacting with five stars because as much as she knows he is a cutie who loves with his entire heart she's never seen him in love (specially because she is used to see him with women drunk in the news)

“i dont wanna go yet.”

luke’s entire body weight was currently resting on top of your body. the sounds of the movers the poisoned mercury team hired were making a ruckus outside of your room, hauling and tossing the random items the boys accumulated over the summer. the boys’ bags were packed, outside the cabin’s door, waiting to be thrown into the back of their tour bus.

you chuckled, running your fingers through his mess of curls, which proved to be the wrong move as it made luke bury his head even deeper into your neck. you placed a soft kiss on his head, “c’mon, pretty boy. you gotta get up.”

“can i just hide in here? maybe they won’t notice im not in the bus and i can stay here a little longer.”

you snorted, feeling a sense of longing erupt in your chest. you were feeling the same way as luke. you didn’t want him to go. you didn’t want to go. “i think they’ll notice the lead isn’t in the bus, luke.”

"luke? where are you?"

luke's head perked up at the sound of his mom's voice echoing through the cabin. he groaned, placing a quick kiss on your lips before he got up. he knew that his time was up and he would have to get on the tour bus soon. he'd see you soon, hopefully. he didn't know the band's schedule yet and you still haven't gotten word on whether or not you were playing this season, so the next time the two of you would see each other was still up in the air.

you froze as you heard may's voice. you'd been so caught up in wanting to treasure the last few moments you had with luke that you completely forgot that you'd have to see may and explain what this was. you'd met her before, sure, but it was a brief introduction and it was before you became luke's girlfriend. it seemed like she liked you enough, but now that the circumstances have changed, you weren't so sure.

"babe?" luke asked, tilting his head in question as he placed his hand on the doorknob of your door to open it. "you coming?"

"does your mom know about us?"

he blushed, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, "yeah, i kinda told her. are you mad?"

you quickly shook your head, "no, no. i'm just--uh, nervous, i guess?"

luke walked back to your bed, grabbing your head in his hands as he peppered kisses all over your face, "nervous? for what?"

"what if she doesn't like me?"

luke let out a loud laugh, a goofy grin appearing on his lips, "you're funny. come on, five star. i only got a few more minutes with you and you're not leaving my side 'til then."

reluctantly, you got up from your bed and accepted luke's outstretched hand. he laced your fingers together, giving your hand a light squeeze as he opened the door to greet his mom. luke smiled widely when he saw his mom poking her head into luke's bedroom, trying to look for him. "mama!"

may turned around, smiling at the sound of her son's voice, then her eyes immediately darted down to your intertwined hands and the sheepish look on your face. her eyebrows shot up in surprise and walked over to the two of you, "there you are, been looking everywhere for you. the boys are already in the bus."

luke let go of your hand for a moment to give his mom a hug, then quickly returned to your side to wrap an arm around your waist. he looked down at you, eyes twinkling with fondness, "mama, you know y/n."

you rubbed the sweat off your palm on the fabric of your jeans, "nice to see you again, mrs. castellan."

"oh, don't do that," she rolled her eyes, pulling you in for a hug, "mama c is fine, or may, whatever you prefer."

"oh, uh, okay," you chuckled, awkwardly, feeling strangely welcomed by her simple act of kindness. may castellan's hugs felt like home. no wonder the boys adored her so much. "nice to see you again, mama c."

"so i reckon this is why we've been waiting for you for ten minutes?" she turned to luke, an eyebrow raised. she had a teasing smile on her face and it was a familiar look. luke got his smile from his mother.

"yeah," luke flushed, "sorry, don't wanna leave yet."

"mhm," may hummed. she turned to you, smiling at you in a way that made your heart hammer in your chest. there was no judgment in her eyes but she was still your boyfriend's mom and your mind was thinking of all the things she could point out about you that would have you spiraling. "he treating you right?"

you blinked, not expecting those words from her. you looked at luke for some guidance on what is the appropriate response, but he was unhelpful. he just looked at you with a dopey smile, a small part of him enjoying watching you all flustered around his mom. luke pressed a kiss to your temple.

"come on, mom. you know i do. you raised me well."

may laughed, "damn straight."

"five star here, was nervous to see you again," luke said, making your eyes widen and involuntarily hit him lightly on his bicep. you received a fake 'ow' in return.

"no need to be nervous, y/n," may replied, casting away any doubts you had in your head with a hand on your shoulder. "this one doesn't shut up about you and it's all good things."

you turned to luke, scrunching your face up in glee, "you talk about me?"

he rolled his eyes playfully, "mom, you're embarrassing me."

"that's my job, kid," may shrugged, turning to you again. "he just goes on and on about you sometimes."

"okay, that's enough," he groaned. the band's publicist was calling him over so he muttered a quick "be right back" in your ear before he left you with his mom. luke turned around as he was walking away, "mom, please don't say anything else while i'm gone."

"no promises!" she called back, chuckling as luke shook his head, accepting defeat. may motioned for you to sit on the couch with her for a second while luke chatted with their publicist about their upcoming schedule. she sat across from you, "he's real happy, you know."

you blushed, playing with the throw pillow on the couch, "yeah, camp had a good effect on him."

"not camp," she shook her head, "you did."

when you looked back at her face, you were almost overwhelmed by the sincerity in her eyes. she continued, "i haven't seen him like this since well, ever. it looks good on him, don't you think?"

you agreed, "it does."

"i hope i'm not overstepping here when i tell you this, but when he first told me about you, it felt different," she explained, pausing for a moment as she tried to conjure up the right words to say next, "as a parent, you can feel it when something shifts with your kid. i felt it when his dad left. i felt it when he got the call about the record deal. i felt it when they played their first sold-out show. i felt it when the fame started getting to him. and i felt it when he called me to tell me about this girl who gave him such a hard time at camp."

"yeah, sorry about that," you cringed.

may laughed, placing a hand on yours again, "no, y/n. don't ever apologize for that. something clicked in my head when he first told me about you and it's a feeling i didn't think i'd ever feel when it came to luke. he's the sweetest kid, but he hasn't made the best decisions when it comes to dating."

"having this much freedom and access to the world at his age will do that to someone, i suppose. but when he started talking about you, i don't know. i knew it was different."

"for what it's worth, i feel the same way about him," you said, eyes finding luke's. he gave you a small smile.

"good," she squeezed your hand and got up, "it was nice to see you again. i hope i get to see you at a few shows soon."

"i hope so too."

may gave you one last hug before she made her way out of the cabin, "tell my kid he gets ten more minutes then he has to haul his ass to the tour bus, okay?"

you chuckled, "got it. bye, mama c."

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (IV)

Chapter 4 : ‘For he gave all his heart and lost’

Hi, everyone!!! Chapter 4 is here! Lots of angst in these first chapters, but we need to get the plot fully plotting!

I hope you like this series! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 2888

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Never Give All the Heart

Never give all the heart, for love Will hardly seem worth thinking of To passionate women if it seem Certain, and they never dream That it fades out from kiss to kiss; For everything that’s lovely is But a brief, dreamy, kind delight. O never give the heart outright, For they, for all smooth lips can say, Have given their hearts up to the play. And who could play it well enough If deaf and dumb and blind with love? He that made this knows all the cost, For he gave all his heart and lost.

W.B. Yeats

You decided to meet in a pub. Frank was staying with his brother for now, you were keeping the flat you used to share. It felt empty without him, filled with blank spaces. Clothes missing in the dresser, a shelf unused in the bathroom, empty spaces on the bookshelves. Every time you looked up while you ate, you expected to see his face and found nothing but a wooden chair instead. And it was killing you slowly, how much you missed him, how much you missed your lives tangled together, sharing space and habits and everything in between.

Frank’s brother’s place wasn’t an option to meet up, and the home he left seemed unfitting, you reckoned that it had witnessed enough farewells already. So, a neutral land it was, a pub you knew but had spent few nights at. Laughter had been shared, along with kisses and drinks, but only a few times, nothing worth crying over.

Only, when you stepped into the pub, easily spotted Frank sitting there, on a chair at a small table with one spot left empty for you opposite him, you could feel the tears rising to your eyes…

It had been two weeks, since Frank had left, and you were still in shock. Reality had started sinking in, you were beginning to understand what it truly meant to lose him. You were beginning to realise that he was truly gone. And what a terrifying thought that was…

He smiled when he saw you approaching, welcoming, like he was genuinely happy to see you. Was he though? Then why did he leave?

You had broken up your engagement, you had to announce the news to your family, had broken down on the phone with them as you did so. You had warned all the people you had invited that this was over, that you and Frank were breaking up, that there would be no wedding, after all. The humiliation was almost as painful as seeing him again. Almost as dreadful as the knowledge that you would not hesitate to take him back, you were hoping to make him change his mind still… that was how desperate you were to get your life back on track, to set it how it should be again.

You said your hellos, you smiled to each other, he seemed emotional to see you as well. You sat down and took off your jacket like you were on autopilot. Something happening outside your own mind, your own chest, your own body. You expected him to tell you about his day, to say something about sport and any of his interests, to order some drinks for you both and to ask you what you wanted to eat tonight after you got home together. Instead, he smiled, asked you if you wanted a drink, and then he looked at you in silence for a moment.

“You look well,” he said, and you congratulated yourself for the efforts you had put in earlier that evening to look somewhat presentable.

“Thanks. You too.”

It was true, he looked surprisingly well, considering he had shattered the last six years merely a couple of weeks ago.

“Thank you for meeting me tonight, it means a lot.”

“Sure, I… I’m glad you called to ask for this. I… I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

There was so much hope within this stupid, lovesick heart of yours after those words…

You gave him a weak smile, imagined him apologising and asking for forgiveness and begging you to take him back after this crazy mistake of his…

Instead, he asked you about work, you asked him about his day, you chatted for a while, dragging the moment along as if you knew already that things weren’t meant to last anyway, that he was about to break your world again, that you were wrong to hope…

… and eventually, you got to the reason behind his call, to what he wanted to get out of this conversation.

“Look, Y/N… you know you’re important to me. So important… I’m sorry about the wedding. And I’m sorry to have ended things the way I did. I reckon that I should have handled this better, ease you through it better so you wouldn’t hurt so much.”

Every word was a slide from hope to pain, a slope that got steeper and steeper, that pushed you towards the edge of a cliff, to a pit you knew you would fall into because you loved him too much not to.

“I really hope you won’t hate me. I… I know that it was sudden, I know that it might have looked like a shocking decision, and it was, even to me. I really meant to marry you when I proposed, but then, I… I just realised that we weren’t meant for each other. We weren’t meant to spend our entire lives together. And I think that’s okay, really. I still have so much love for you, it’s just… it’s just not strong enough for us to go through with this wedding. Do you understand?”

Slowly, you nodded, trying hard not to cry.

He didn’t love you enough…?

“It’s just… Sometimes, it’s a lot to be with you, to take care of you. It’s not that you’re too much to handle, that’s not what I’m saying. You’re grand, Y/N, you really are. But your career takes a lot of space, you’re moving regularly, and you just… I don’t know. I just want something else, I think. I want… I want someone else.”

He heaved a sigh, rubbing at his forehead like he was the one breaking, like he was the tired one, like it was he who suffered when you struggled not to cry, when you felt the pain of rejection and heartbreak wash over you all over again.

“I still care about you, Y/N. It doesn’t mean that all of my love for you is gone, it only means that… I… I can’t be with you romantically anymore. Do you understand? But I… Y/N, I don’t want you out of my life. I care about you too much, you are too important to me. So, would you… What would you say if I asked for us to remain friends?”

Friends… the word echoed in a mixture of horror, pain and disappointment.

Friends… you should have been about to get married, engaged, in love… and instead he wanted friendship?

It was such a blow to your pride, your self-esteem. But then you thought about it, and a glimmer of hope was alit again, foolish and sickeningly in denial.

But if you remained friends, you would keep in touch, you would keep on seeing him.

And if you remained friends, perhaps you could make him see reason, show him that you were the one he belonged with. You wouldn’t be able to do that if you didn’t talk or see each other.

Friends…

He reached for your hand across the table, sneaking his arm between his drink and yours, hand warm against your cold fingers.

“I don’t want to lose you, Y/N. You’re so important to me. I just… don’t think that it would work out for us if we keep on having a romantic relationship, that’s all. It doesn’t change the fact that I care about you. So much, Y/N…”

You stared at his blue eyes, the blond hair you used to run your fingers through. He was making a mistake, and that was all there was to say about it.

“Okay,” you breathed out, the word escaping without you even noticing its passing of your lips.

He raised a surprised eyebrow, and yet he had a relieved expression painted over his features.

“Really?”

“Yeah, okay. We can still be friends.”

“Oh, Y/N! You can’t imagine how happy I am to hear you say that!”

Happy…

You swallowed back the lump in your throat, forced a smile.

You would make him see reason, he was making a mistake, nothing more…

Things would get back to normal, and you would have your life back. You would have your life back…

She wanted to come over, Andrew wanted to refuse at first. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see his partner, of course he longed for her company. Except, tonight, he was busy. Busy sorting out his thoughts, busy worrying about the sadness that surrounded his colleague, busy worrying about his father, whose medication had been slightly changed, busy trying to write and coming with nothing but a blank page.

It used to be easier, to fill up blank spaces. When he was younger, in his late teens to early twenties, he filled notebooks after notebooks with song lyrics and poems. When Sam and Andrew had met, it was so easy for him to write about love. He was awestruck by her all the time, and he still was, in a way. But then they had grown out of the naïve phase of youth, into proper adults; ones that thought about rent, about food, about taxes, about sacrifices, about laundry and grocery lists and the work to be done the next day. She had turned him down when he had offered for them to move in together, had always refused to speak about marriage. And Andrew tried hard to hide how much her reaction saddened him. It turned off a switch in him, the words were harder to find these days. Growing up, or rather, starting to grow older, that was tough work, tricky work. The kind that left all poetry behind.

He still wrote, the two books he had published were proof, as well as the poems he published regularly in journals. But these days, he couldn’t get a word down, and how was he supposed to communicate and let his feelings out when he struggled so much saying them out loud? Speeches had never been his strong suit, it was through the mask of metaphors, the rhythm of rimes, the cadence of alliterations that he managed to express himself. It was therapeutic, in a way.

But in the past few weeks, Andrew had not written a word. He was too worried for that. There was something off with Sam, and he didn’t know what it could be. It made him anxious. He tiptoed around her a lot these days, worried about what would happen if they started fighting over anything, no matter how small the issue. Perhaps that was why he couldn’t write, he wasn’t sure… No matter the reason, his sudden inability to produce anything even vaguely decent made him spiral into doubts and anxiety. He didn’t need that to second-guess his decisions, to doubt his own worth…

He heaved a sigh, closing his laptop, checking the time. Almost 9 p.m, Sam would soon be there. As if on cue, Elwood barked twice when a knock on the door broke the silence of Andrew’s flat.

She was early, as per usual, when he was always late to everything. It annoyed her to no end.

Andrew went to open the door, welcomed Sam with a forced smile, but she seemed not to notice. She merely hummed a hello, let him kiss her cheek, before walking inside the flat. Elwood approached, unhurried, looked up in hope to be petted. Sam granted him a few scratches, before turning away. The dog merely huffed, and walked over to Andrew, rubbing his side against his human’s leg, looking for the attention he craved for. Andrew granted it to him easily.

“How was your day, baby?” he asked Sam in a sweet tone, but she shrugged, waiting for Andrew to move out of the hallway and into the living room.

“Not much. You?”

“I’m fine, yeah.”

He wanted to talk about his research, and how he wanted to start writing a new article, how he was almost done planning out his class for Yeats’s poetry, how sad you looked still, how worried he was for his family these days. Instead, Sam claimed the conversation, and he didn’t try to fight against it so he could speak again.

“I wanted to talk to you, Andy.”

“Sure, what’s up?” he asked back, standing straighter, quitting Elwood’s petting and following Sam to sit on his sofa.

She seemed nervous, in a way she rarely was around him. He was nervous too now, had a bad feeling about all of this.

“I don’t know how to say this,” she spoke in a weak voice, he reached for her hand to reassure her.

“Straightforwardly,” he answered with a smile.

He pushed back a strand of hair behind his ear, tiredly adjusted his glasses. Slowly, she nodded, took a deep breath before speaking.

“Andy… you know how important you are to me. You’re… you’re the first man I ever truly loved, the first person I could see myself with on the long run. And I care about you, about your happiness… I care so much. And this is very hard for me to do this to you, to us, but…”

She took another deep, slow breath, and Andrew could see the tears in her eyes, the way she struggled to hold them back. He knew what was coming, didn’t want to think it true, but it was.

He knew his world was about to get shattered before she spoke the words he dreaded.

“I’ve been happy with you, genuinely happy. But this… I’m so sorry, Andy, but I think we need to break up.”

Andrew blinked at her, his brain refusing to understand her words, refusing to work now. He forced himself back to the present, forced himself to repeat her words.

Break up…

“What… What do you mean? What do you mean ‘break up’? You… you want us to take a break?”

“No, Andy. I want us to break up. For good. I’m so sorry.”

“But, I… I love you. We’re… we’re good together, we… we belong together.”

“I’m sorry, Andy. But I don’t think that’s true anymore.”

“What triggered this? Did I do something wrong? Are you angry at me? I… I can change for you. I can make things better. I can make you happy, do whatever you want me to do…”

“I’m sorry… there’s nothing to do. It’s not… it’s not you. I just feel like… we’re not on the same page, anymore. We were so young when we got together, we’ve grown into different people. I… I’m sorry.”

“Why now? What happened?”

“Nothing…”

“I know you, Sam. I know you better than anyone. I know you’re lying. What happened? What triggered this?”

“Andy…”

“I don’t want you to leave… we can make things work!”

“We can’t…”

“We can make efforts, we can…”

“I don’t want to, Andy. I’m sorry. I just… I love you, but… not enough, anymore.”

These were the words that made him break, that turned his desperate tone into silence, his begging eyes into teary ones. He started crying.

She didn’t love him anymore…

Not enough…

“But I love you…”

“I’m sorry, Andy.”

He let tears overcome him, drown him into silence. Sam was crying as well, but not as violently.

“Why? Why now?”

“I just… nothing, I just…”

But she fell silent, and Andrew wasn’t a fool.

“Is there someone else?”

She looked away, looking guilty.

This couldn’t be happening…

“We met just about two months ago. I just… I think I’m falling in love with him. And if I can love him, it means I don’t love you the way I should anymore…”

He buried his face in his hands.

This could not be happening…

He refused to ask her if she had been having an affair, Andrew knew he didn’t have the strength to hear her answer.

He was falling; falling into an endless pit and he would die once she would have left with the ground in her care.

They fought after that, he tried to hold her back. And perhaps she didn’t deserve it, but Andrew was in love, and he had thought for years that she was the one, that them, their couple, was the constant element in his life. He fought for her, there was nothing he could do. When she said she would only be happy with someone else, he let her go.

He cried all night, called in sick the next day. He answered your worried email, explaining what had happened in a clear, concise way that left out any detail. You said you were sorry. It didn’t make him feel better at all. In the evening he got so drunk he had no memory left of that night in the morning. For a moment he thought none of this had happened, the pain through his skull was too vivid for that. But then reality came back, and when he hurried to the bathroom to throw up, he wasn’t sure whether he was sick because of the remnants of alcohol in his system or because of the pain of losing her.

When she texted a few days later asking if they could still stay in touch, Andrew was too heartbroken to see the red flags. He answered yes, dreamt of having Sam back in his bed, thought about ways to win her over again, and fell asleep that night out of exhaustion and too many tears.

[loaksky]

— 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴

the deets  — you are a warrior of very few words, yet oftentimes your gaze betrays you. this widens the rift between you and the eldest sully, but will seeking refuge with the metkayina soothe the burn? especially when the alleviation comes in the form of a certain ocean boy? 

the who — ao’nung x fem tipani!reader, a lil neteyam x fem!tipani reader

the word count — 7.1k (i thought this was gonna be longer, regardless i have zero self control)

the tags — slight e2l (you and ao’nung get off on the wrong foot), unofficial love triangle (reader has two people hooked lmao), angst (wouldn’t be me without a little heartache), fluff. 

the warnings — language, ao’nung’s a cheeky lil shit, neteyam’s in denial and makes things difficult. ao'nung gives reader a lil kith.

the notes — this is my first request! it took me a moment to finish this because i wanted to really research the tipani to characterize reader the best i could. similarly, i feel like we don’t see much of ao’nung past the point of him being a little shit in the movie, so i had to take some creative liberties regarding his character. thank you so much to the anon who requested! this is so long, holy shit, but i hope i did it justice! :) 

(also not proofread well, my bad lmaooo).

masterlist

YOU WERE BORN TO FIGHT. That was what your mother and father had told you day in and day out, from the rise of the sun, to the last eclipse. It was what they had told you when you began your training, when you had started to deepen your studies, and finally, when they clung to their final breaths in the smog of the burning jungle. 

Your village was scarce, a dying lot, as families broke off and settled farther into the jungle, high above the forest floors and into the canopies of the looming trees. 

Jake had heard about you, heard about your dwindling family, your mighty spirit. You were barely older than his eldest, just shy of ten when he’d taken you in, told the clan to revere you as their own. You were tough to crack, stoic, quiet, as you grew into a force to be reckoned with.

The only thing that chipped your facade came in the form of Jake Sully’s oldest son. 

Neteyam, you’d come to realize, was always the diligent one; courageous, firm, and commanded any space he occupied. But he was curious about you. Curious about the lone wolf who wouldn’t even bat an eye in his direction. He poked and prodded, tried as he might, to crack a smile out of you in the first year or two, but found that you gave little reaction. The slightest tilt of the corner of your lips, the most infinitesimal furrow between your brow bones. It was triumph enough, but then things started to shift. 

Though you’d softened around the Sully’s, especially Kiri who, despite being two years your junior, had doted on you like an older sister, Jake had seen potential in you and Neteyam as the fiercest duo. 

It was only normal to consistently pair you two during your training, forcing the hands of time to twine you closer together as your iknimaya drew nearer. You’d both succeeded with flying colors and it was the first time Neteyam had touched you, crushing you in a hug so tight, you felt the breath and the sense leave your body. 

You begrudgingly admit that from that moment on, you were wrapped around his finger. 

Your heart would swell dangerously behind your ribcage every time his hand would come up to pat your head affectionately, stomach twisting in on itself when he’d flash you a pearly smile after each successful hunt. Neteyam made you feel, and it thrilled and horrified you all the same.

But despite basking in the warmth of his company, of being intertwined so intricately, you still feel grossly misplaced.

The thought of letting him in on the fact that he’s swayed your heart leaves a horrid taste in your mouth. 

“It’s not like you to back down,” Kiri tells you as she helps you roll beaded tops and woven loincloths into the small satchel you’d designated for the flight to Awa’atlu. 

The humans were closing in and Jake was growing desperate. 

You stop, tongue in cheek as you settle back on your haunches. 

“Some things are better left unsaid,” you reply, hands clasping in your lap as you level Kiri with a soft gaze through your thick lashes. 

“Perhaps,” Kiri hums. “But will it settle well with you in the future when you think about your inaction?” 

You stiffen a fraction, knowing that Kiri’s insinuation is a heavy one. 

Will you be able to live without him knowing? Will it settle well when Neteyam courts another?

You doubt it will, but pride can be an ugly thing. You’d been taught by your parents, by your surroundings that reading into things farther than you must will only leave you scathed. You’re afraid to piece every lingering touch, every furtive glance, every sweet smile into something that paints an unwanted picture. 

“The worst he could say is no,” Kiri presses. “You are his equal, his dearest friend. You could never ruin that.” 

Kiri squashes every doubt you have with her encouraging words, so you take the plunge.

Neteyam is almost finished preparing for the journey when you poke your head into his tent, cheeks warm and blood pulsing erratically in your veins. 

“One last walk through the forest?” you offer.

Neteyam grins from ear to ear, excusing himself before ducking out of the tent to meet you outside. 

“Lead the way,” he gestures, voice deep like the velvet of the night sky. 

You’re clammy as you walk a few paces in front of him, tongue tied and wracked with nerves as the forest comes alive so brightly around you. The bugs chirp and croak as you cross over fallen logs and climb through the dense flora. 

You’re so deep in your head that you barely register Neteyam calling your name. It’s only when his hand clasps around your wrist that you jerk to a stop, neck craning to take in the concern that mars his freckled face. 

“Everything okay?” he asks, head tilting to get a better look at you. 

“I need to tell you something,” you blurt, swallowing down the courage threatening to escape your body. 

“Of course,” he says, hand lacing with yours. “You can tell me anything.”

A breath catches in your throat before you finally spill.

“I don’t know what our future holds, but…” you trail off, distracted with how intensely he gazes down at you. 

“But?” 

“But I know that I want you in it,” you say, blinking when you realize that’s not at all how you wanted that to come out. 

Neteyam’s head tilts again, this time confusion crosses his features. 

You try again. 

“What I mean to say is, I— well… I like you,” you admit, looking up to meet his golden gaze. 

His face softens and your heart picks up speed. 

“Oh, ________,” he whispers. 

“Maybe I’ve always felt like this, I don’t know,” you continue, steeling your resolve. “But being around you, being with you, makes me feel light. Like I don’t have to bear the weight of the burden all on my own.” 

You realize that this is beginning to go south when his mouth purses and instead of seeing you, he begins to look like he pities you. 

“I’m sorry,” is all he says as he pulls his hand from your own. “We’re friends, ________.” 

You look up at him and it feels like the forest has stilled enough for someone to strike it and shatter the peace. 

“That’s all,” he reiterates. “I’m— I’m flattered, don’t misunderstand. You’re great, lovely, but…I don’t see you in that way.” 

You recoil like you’ve been burned and Neteyam looks guilty. 

“But…” 

“C’mon,” he says, almost pleadingly. “We grew up together. You’re apart of my family. You’re like a si—“ 

“Don’t,” you whisper. “Don’t say it please.” 

Neteyam sighs, deflating. 

“I love you, you know that,” he urges. “But not in that way.” 

Your lips press together tightly, shame filling every available space within you as you feel like the most minuscule speck underneath his burning eyes. 

It’s like you’re both rooted to the earth, unable to part from the other, but you eventually fold first, backing away from his towering stance. 

“________,” he sighs, like you’re just another task he has to deal with. 

“Sorry,” you murmur. “I’m sorry.” 

And you steal off into the glowing forest. 

The waters of Awa’atlu glitter as you close in on the reefs. You lag behind the Sully’s, thoroughly taken by the prior night’s rejection. 

You almost miss the tilt of the voyage, falling even further behind. 

Neteyam peers over his shoulder, immediately noting your lack of focus as you fly with a wide berth between you and his family. 

He falls back. 

“You okay?” he asks over the flapping of wings. 

He notices the puffs underneath your eyes when your gaze flits to him, but like a wall erecting itself, your face goes blank. You lean forward on your ikran and press her to move forward. 

Neteyam is left at the rear now, watching you fall in tandem with Kiri who seems to light up at your first display of emotion. 

The sun gleams againstglinting blue tides as silence blankets the newcomers, the only thing piercing the stillness is the squawk of the birds and the ripple of the waves. 

You stand behind Kiri, staggered in a shallow of sand among the Sully's. You're the smallest of them all, hidden from view as the Metkayina begin murmuring. 

“What a freak.” 

Something tugs hard on your tail, and like muscle memory, your fist is flying. Your knuckles are caught before they strike and you look up into the foamy eyes of a towering boy whose skin is a gentle blue. 

You pull your tail back, ears flat as you level him with a nasty glare. 

The smirk playing at his lips disintegrates as Jake’s voice announces that his family are seeking refuge among the reefs. 

You turn your attention back to the front as the woman, fierce despite being with child, takes Lo’ak’s hand and thrusts it towards the sky, announcing that his extra finger denotes demon blood. 

The villagers gasp and you take a step forward, fists balled so tight you feel like they could burst through the skin. Lo’ak’s head is bowed, refusing to meet the intensity of the clan’s prying eyes, and you feel helpless.

Kiri squeezes your shoulder as Jake attempts to quell the crowd by hold up his own hands. 

The murmuring intensifies as the Olo’eyktan and Tsahik stand at a distance, staring at each other in a silent exchange. 

“Show them our ways,” the Olo’eyktan says after a final verdict. “So that they may not suffer the shame of being useless.” 

Your body is rigid, tense as another ripple of speculation flutters through the crowd. 

“My children will spearhead this by showing them the way of the water,” he says. 

A deep voice makes a noise of protest behind you and your fist tightens around the strap of the satchel slung across your body, temper beginning to tick like a bomb ready to detonate. 

The daughter of the leaders, Tsireya, is the one to show you to the marui that you’ll all occupy. It’s an empty one, uninhabited and clear of any belongings. 

Tuk runs in, tossing her things to the wayside as she begins her inspection. 

“Get settled in well, we will begin our first lesson before eclipse,” Tsireya smiles, then turns to you, trailing behind the Sully’s like their shadow per usual. 

“I’m sorry about Ao’nung,” she says quietly, and you look up at the girl whose dimples dent her rounded cheeks. 

“An apology means nothing if doesn’t come from the aggressor,” you say flatly, hiking up the roll of fabric tucked underneath your arm. 

Tsireya’s ears flatten, her smile faltering as she nods her head. 

“I suppose you’re correct,” she agrees. “The villagers are very steadfast in their ways. When change arrives, they are hesitant, but they’ll come around, promise.” 

She takes your hand and gives your fingers a squeeze. 

“Tell your friends not to be late,” she coos, pulling away from you to bound down the path you’d all come from moments before. 

When you turn, Neteyam stands before you, skin dewy under the unrelenting heat of the pounding sun. 

“Can I get this for you?” he asks, reaching for the items tucked under your arms. 

You ease away, almost as skittish as the first nights you’d joined the Sully’s all those years ago. You feel shamefully like you’re back to square one as you shake your head wordlessly and Neteyam looks down at you with an indiscernible look on his face. 

“________,” he murmurs, and you name sounds like a broken plea on his lips. 

You push past him, taking a quick survey of your surroundings as you claim the level up, hammock tightened around two support posts under a woven canopy. 

Your things are thrown haphazardly underneath the hammock and with your satchel, you’re steering quickly out of the marui. 

“Hey, kid, where you running off to?” Jake calls out. 

“Out,” is all you reply, steps quick down the unfamiliar webbing of the maruis’ woven walkways. 

You’re on edge all over again, like you have to restart all of your valiant efforts to feel any semblance of comfort among another new clan. When you’d joined the Omatikaya, you were able to grasp onto the slivers of belonging through blending into the background, but now, as you pass villagers with skin as glittering and blue as the ocean, tails strong, and figures built, you feel so grossly misplaced. 

You search for less, eyes falling near a swathe of shady trees and a shallow pool in the distance. 

Your pursuit is futile as three looming figures emerge and begin surrounding you, basking you in their shadows. 

“Are you a five-fingered freak like them?” One of them tries to swoop to grab your hand, but you recoil like their touch is acidic. 

“Leave me alone,” you grumble, attempting to push past them. 

Someone tugs sharply on your tail and you jerk back, hands and knees burrowing into the sharp grains of sand. A hand comes up to grab you by the top of your head, forcing your face skywards. 

His curly hair is braided out of his face, the purse of his lips menacing. 

“I asked you a question, weirdo.” 

You hiss and his face contorts. 

“I should—“ 

“Wune,” the voice is a warning. 

A grunt of annoyance. 

Wune lets go of your hair and pulls away from you. You all look in the direction of the voice, and your blood seems to curdle when you see the one who’d yanked your tail earlier in the day. 

Ao’nung.

His chin jerks in the other direction and the three pass each other a knowing glance before retreating, leaving you to fall into a seated position against the sand. 

You surprise yourself when tears begin to well in your eyes involuntarily. 

“You okay?” Ao’nung asks hesitantly, crouching in front of you. 

“Piss off,” you whisper, climbing to your feet as you quickly brush the tears from your waterline. 

“Wait—“ 

“I said piss off,” you hiss, stalking away. 

Awa’atlu is beautiful right before eclipse, sky bathed in orange and purples. 

You’ve rejoined the Sully’s after your encounter with the three Metkayina boys and Ao’nung. Now you’re seated with the four siblings, Tsireya, and another friendly face that you’ve been introduced to as Rotxo. 

“The way of water has no beginning and no end,” Tsireya says. “Our hearts beat in the womb of the world.” 

Your heart beats fast now, like you’ve just run from one end of the forest to another. It beats erratically under Neteyam’s unrelenting gaze. He looks like he’s dissecting you, trying to pry into your mind and you hate that things have come to this. 

You hate that one evening has shattered the careful friendship that you and Neteyam have built over the course of many tumultuous years. You want to find comfort in his presence, know with your soul that he’d tuck your hair behind your ear and tell you that things would be alright. But now you feel like you two are distant strangers. 

“The sea is your home, before your birth and after your death.” 

You want to argue that you know no home, that the wind seems to carry you where it may, but you bite your tongue and you zone out of her lecture.

You only tune back in when the hairs on the back of your neck stand at the arrival of a new body. 

“Mother and father say that it’s time to prepare for the evening meal.” 

After hearing the voice twice in the day, you recognize the timbre. 

Ao’nung stands tall, chest broad and eyes bright. 

They settle on you in an instant, and you feel indescribably smaller as Tsireya announces that she will continue during the morning’s eclipse. 

Everyone begins to stand, brushing the residual sand from their skin as they begin to file away. 

You’re startled to a stop when your name comes from Neteyam’s lips and a gentle hand latches onto your forearm. 

You look down to see strong fingers lighter than your own holding onto you. Then your gaze flits to Neteyam who stands a few feet away, words dying on his tongue. 

Ao’nung tugs lightly and you look up to meet softened eyes. 

“Can I borrow you for a moment?” he asks. He notices the apprehensive look on your face as you peel away from him, then adds, “I’ll be quick.” 

Neteyam opens his mouth to protest on your behalf, but you flash him a pensive look and he stops in his tracks, watching as you turn your slender back towards him and follow the lumbering Metkayina.

When the two of you are alone, you dig your toe into the sand, hands clasped behind your back as you wait for Ao’nung to break the silence and get on with it. 

“I want to apologize,” he finally says, when you’re out of earshot of the village and the curious Sully’s who’d noted the entire exchange. 

You look up at him, brow bone raised. 

“For?” 

“For being mean,” he says, “I was inappropriate.” 

“Is this your sister talking?” you ask crudely, but he doesn’t flinch at the venom in your tone.

Instead, he smiles down at you. 

“No,” he assures you. “One hundred percent me, promise.” 

You look down at your feet, still fidgeting with the sand. 

“I guess…” you trail off. 

“You guess?” he prods.

“I guess we’re okay,” you say hesitantly. 

Ao’nung hums. 

“Good,” he concedes. “Great. I’m glad.” 

You flash him a bored look through thick lashes and his lips twitch as he stares down at you with piercing eyes. 

“I can be dumb,” he says, grin widening. “My family says I don’t know how to act around nice things.” 

Your cheeks warm as you avoid his eyes, breaking away to catch up with Kiri and Tuk.

After dinner, in the quiet of the Sully’s marui, you lie in the hammock you claimed earlier in the day, hands folded underneath your head as you gaze at the stars. 

“My dad came from a star,” Lo’ak had said to you one night, eliciting the smallest of smiles. 

As you comb through each one, you burn to be up there. A digging desire to only know about shining bright and being wished so hard upon. 

There are nights like these where everything feels heavy, where your shoulders sag underneath the pressure of being a great warrior. You wonder what life could be like had the RDA spared your village, had you not gone off into the forest to hunt, had you—

He’s a barely perceptible shadow under the glow of the moon and ocean, slinking down the woven path between pods. 

Like a whisper of wind, you climb out of your hammock and over sleeping bodies. 

As you slip out of the marui, you don’t notice the pair of sleepy eyes on your retreating figure. 

Before he even knows what’s going on, you’re scurrying over the thick branches, following his path until he hits the intersection right before the Sully’s quarters. 

You jump down and intersect Ao’nung, hand coming over his mouth before he can shout in shock. His eyes are wide as you stand on your tip toes, other hand coming to your lips to gesture for him to be quiet. 

“What are you doing?” you hiss quietly. 

His fingers come to your wrist, nudging your palm from his mouth to reveal a beaming smile. 

“I was coming for you,” he admits. 

“Why?” you press, shaking his hold away when you realize that he’d still been grasping your wrist.

“Have you ridden an ilu before?” he asks. 

You shift uncomfortably. 

“No,” you answer shortly. 

“You wanna?” he offers. 

“No.” 

He frowns. 

“Swimming?”

“Pass.” 

“I have fruits,” he singsongs. 

“Ao’nung,” you warn.

“Is it so wrong to want to spend time with you?” he asks, hands up in defense. 

“Why would you want to?” you ask accusingly. “Your village sees us as demons and I’m included in that whether it applies to me or not. I’ll stay out of your way, just leave me alone.” 

“I don’t think you’re a demon,” Ao’nung says gently. “If anything, I- I think you’re great.” 

“You don’t know me,” you spit. 

“I know enough,” Ao’nung says with finality. “I know that you are strong and your spirit is kind. Ewya has let me feel as such.” 

Your expression is lethal, but Ao’nung doesn’t back down. 

“One night,” he says quietly. “Spend one night with me.” 

The following silence stretches eternally before something magnetic pulls you towards Ao’nung’s honeyed gaze. You chance a glance over your shoulder, met with stillness and the minute laps of the ocean on the shore. 

When you meet his eyes again, you nod once, hesitantly, and he’s taking your hand to tug you into the glowy night. 

Ao’nung returns you before the sun rises, a few early risers giving you two curious glances as he walks you to where you’d ambushed him the night before.

You wave to him hesitantly, sighing in relief when you you creep back into the marui and find everyone fast asleep, splayed over one another like a big heap. 

You climb over limbs and snoring bodies, finally settling in your hammock to watch the beginnings of the eclipsing sun brighten the village. 

You don’t notice the same bleary eyes watching you from where he’s laid on the floor, Lo’ak’s head weighing on his stomach and Tuk smushed onto his armpit. 

They’re the same eyes that watch you all morning, as his family gets up one by one, stretching their lithe limbs and tidying up before being called for the day’s first meal. 

Neteyam is watchful, stealing glances as you file behind his family from the pod to the clan circle, now buzzing with hungry villagers as the sun shines high in the sky. 

But he doesn’t say a word, silent as you choose the seat farthest from him. Quiet as you blink your eyes sleepily, barely registering Tuk’s excited blabbering about all of the new things she can make with the shells and supplies here. 

“Give it a rest,” Lo’ak grumbles from beside him. 

He snaps out of his reverie, eyes narrowing in on his brother. 

“What?” 

“You’ve been watching ________ all morning,” Lo’ak chides. “She’s locked up tight, bro. No way you’re getting her.” 

Neteyam’s blood curdles at the thought, wanting to tell his brother to shove it. But you’d shut him out the past few days, the sting of his rejection obviously driving a wedge between the two of you. 

“Shut up,” he grumbles. 

He hates that you’d gone from being inseparable to being strangers overnight. But what he hates even more is the way Ao’nung drops onto the log next to you and you don’t even flinch, just pass him a bored gaze that makes him beam. 

He watches you closely, eyes glued to your every move. 

Something ugly roils inside of him as Ao’nung offers you a braided bag and you hesitantly take a piece of dried meat from him, face morphing as you give him a nod of approval. 

Ao’nung looks proud of of himself as he balances the bag next to him on the log and leans towards you almost imperceptibly. Neteyam expects you to put distance between the two of you, but you barely bat an eye, watching intently as Ao’nung talks animatedly. 

Lo’ak scoffs beside him and Neteyam stomach turns.

Hours bleed into days, days bleed into weeks, and for once, you feel like things could be alright. The breathing gets easier, the learning comes faster, and something feels peaceful being near the ocean. 

The only thing that hadn’t been amended was the gaping hole that separated you from Neteyam, but in the company of a certain Olo’eyktan’s only son, you don’t feel the burn as much. 

You watch him now, as he treads water with Rotxo and the two Sully boys, walking them through the procedure of hunting under water and how to maximize their kills. 

“…and the reefs underwater…” 

He’s one and the same with the tides, mighty and commanding as his veined hands gesture confidently. One moment, he’s focused on his instruction intently, the next he’s glancing at you. 

You feel hot in the warm waters as your cheeks flame under a genuine smile. Neteyam follows his line of sight, body tensing in the water when he sees the shy look on your face. 

He’s not the only one who notices as Kiri feigns a gag and Tsireya pauses her spiel to giggle at the obvious exchange. 

“Oh, ________,” she whispers giddily. 

Your eyes swing to the group of girls surrounding you as Tuk lets out a gleeful laugh and pinches you under the water. 

“Ouch!” 

“________ has a crush,” Tuk singsongs obnoxiously. 

You knuckle her forehead and give her a warning glare than only sends her into a frenzy, laughing and splashing as she seeks protection from Kiri. 

“Stop that!” you whisper fiercely. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft,” Kiri moans. 

“No!” you say, a little too quickly. “No.”

No one in your circle looks convinced as Tsireya closes her lesson and leads the three of you to wade out of the waters. 

“It’s okay, you know?” Kiri says once you’ve reached your belongings and sling your trusty satchel over your front. 

You give her an inquisitive look and she throws her head back and laughs. 

“I know you sneak out to meet with Ao’nung at night,” she admits quietly. “I love my stupid brother, but it’s okay to move on.” 

You blanche, embarrassed at having been caught. 

After the first night, when he’d taken you for a swim with his ilu and you’d gasped in both fear and delight as the creature cut through the waters to sail through the air, he had started to frequently come back for you in the wee hours after eclipse. It had turned from you clocking him as he approached the Sully’s pod, to you standing off the side of the path he usually crossed, waiting for him. 

The first night you’d done that, his smile was so sweet, you felt something fluttering in your tummy. 

Among one of those late night excursions, while you both were splayed on the beach after a particularly adventurous swim, Ao’nung had told you he wouldn’t mind showing you all the beautiful things Awa’atlu had to offer, you just had to say the words. And you had reluctantly agreed, heart locked away tight. 

You hate to admit that he’s done well chiseling away every effort you’d made to remain snug behind your walls. He had coaxed you out with soft words, sweet fruits, meaningful talks. And you absolutely melted like putty in his hands. 

“We are head and heart,” Kiri says gently. “Sometimes it’s okay to listen to your heart.” 

You swallow under Kiri’s sympathetic gaze. 

“You’ve been strong for a long time, ________,” she states simply. “Your feelings are not a weakness.” 

You nod as she rejoins Tuk and Tsireya a few strides away.

A few moments later, a voice is warm in the shell of your sensitive ears. 

“What adventure awaits after eclipse?” Ao’nung asks lightly. 

You resist smiling up at him, but fail miserably when his webbed fingers come up to move hair from your face. 

“I have seeds of a spartan fruit,” you say quietly. “If you know of anywhere to plant them.” 

“I can make something work,” he assures you, thumb brushing your cheek, then pinching gently with a toothy smile. “Our usual place?” 

You bow your head, cheeks hot. 

“Of course.” 

“Alright, little leaf,” he bids, that stupid nickname he’d called you one of the first nights, sticking. “See you then.” 

He’s walking back in the direction of the other boys, cutting across the sand as they venture towards the heart of the clan’s village. 

As you pick up the remainder of your items, you don’t realize a body has stayed behind. 

“Little leaf?” It comes out as a scoff, mocking as your whirl on your heel and find Neteyam standing over you. “What’s your deal with him?”

You blink hard. 

“What are you talking about?”

“You an Ao’nung,” Neteyam bites, temper short. “What’s going on between you two?” 

Annoyance pinches the back of your brain as you look off into the roll of the shallow tides, then turn your attention back to the eldest Sully. For the first time in an infinite amount of moments, you don’t feel like falling into him. 

“He’s my friend,” you decide to say, sucking in a deep breath in hopes of calming your racing nerves. “Is that alright with you?” 

Neteyam’s glare doesn’t falter. 

“Just your friend?” he accuses. “I know you meet with him after eclipse, don’t think you have anyone fooled. Why?” 

“What do you mean why?” you counter, unable to keep the edge from your tone. 

“Why are you sneaking around with someone you barely know after dark, ________?” he grills. “Don’t be dense.” 

“Ao’nung is kind to me,” you argue. “He shows me about his life, about the villagers and the way of the water.” 

“And what, I’m not kind to you?” Neteyam bristles. “Tsireya can’t show you all of those things?” 

Your face scrunches in annoyance. 

“You’re being unreasonable, Neteyam,” you scoff. 

“I’m being unreasonable?” he asks in disbelief. “Ao’nung is just like the rest of the village, ________. You really thinking that in front of everyone else, he doesn’t shun us all the same?” 

“No, Neteyam, I don’t,” you retort. “Because Ao’nung is nice. He goes to great lengths to make me feel welcome, like Awa’atlu is home.”

“So he puts on a show and you’re so willing to be with him, huh?” Neteyam seethes quietly. “We’re your home, ________. Ao’nung is earning brownie points with his parents having you hooked, but do you really think he sees you?” 

You swallow, biting the inside of your cheek as you stare up at Neteyam in resignation. 

“You can be so callous sometimes,” you whisper, turning to leave the conversation. 

“I’m not done talking to you,” Neteyam sighs. 

“Well, I am.” 

You never make it back to the marui that night, still embarrassed that two of Sully’s had noticed that you were ditching your hammock as soon as the village turned in for the evenings. Instead, you wander around the beaches, collecting shells and little trinkets for morning handicrafts with Tuk. 

After the island glows both from the luminescence of the habitat and the moon, you stand post, waiting for the familiar pad of Ao’nung’s feet over the sand. You watch the stars up above to distract you, fingers twitching as you recall your argument with Neteyam earlier in the day. 

You know he was looking for chords to strike, but something akin to insecurity begins to root itself inside of you as the stars begin shifting further and further, indicating that a wide span of time has elapsed. The village is still, but your mind is racing as Ao’nung’s whereabouts remain a mystery. 

Regardless you wait. You wait so long, you’d resorted to planting yourself in the sand, and after what felt like infinity, the morning eclipse begins. When the village starts to turn over for the day, curtains and drapery being pulled back to reveal slowly waking families, you finally stand, heart in your hands. 

When you return to your pod, Neteyam is already up, posted on the edge of the walkway with his toes in the water. 

He’s shooting up when he sees you. 

“Where have you been?” he demands as you draw nearer. 

His face softens when he sees the first tear arch over your sculpted cheekbone. 

You quickly wipe it away. 

“No where,” you grumble, pushing past him. 

“________,” he urges. 

You deflect his reaching hands. 

“I’m serious, Neteyam,” you warn, the look in your golden eyes deadly. “Leave me alone.” 

Despite not seeing Ao’nung the entirety of the day, you return to your post the next night, hoping the night prior had been a fluke. The seeds of the spartan fruit are held tight in your fist and you use them as a vessel to wish hard. But it’s futile when the stars that map the skies continue to inch and you continue to wait. 

On the fourth night of Ao’nung’s absence, you decide to get to the bottom of things. 

You weave through the maruis, into the village’s circle right before eclipse. You spot Tsireya first, then him. He isn’t hard to miss when you’ve grown to know the drape of his curling hair and the bass of his hearty laugh. 

Rotxo, who sits opposite them, notices you first and his smile falters. 

Ao’nung’s neck cranes and his face shutters as he locks eyes with you. 

“________, hi,” he greets simply. 

“Hi?” you parrot, the spartan seeds you were beginning to use as a safety blanket clutched tight in your fist. “That’s it?” 

Ao’nung turns completely, waving off his sister and Rotxo as he stands to his full height. 

“What are you—“ 

“I waited for you,” you hiccup, shocked at the emotion that hijacks every morsel of resolve and composure you’ve always kept a tight lid on. “I waited for you, but you never came.” 

Ao’nung’s hands are on your shoulders, nudging you to a more private area, an alcove hidden among arched and gnarled tree roots. 

“________, I don’t understand,” he says quietly. “You—“ 

“I waited for you so that we could plant these stupid seeds and—“ 

Your unfurled fist catches his attention and his eyes widen when he sees that you’ve gripped them so hard in your hands, your palms are bleeding. 

He makes a move to grab you injured hand, but your fist tightens again. 

“This is inappropriate,” Ao’nung says sharply, eyes pleading. 

“What is?” you ask desperately. 

“You and me,” he says, like it should make sense. “This isn’t right.” 

Like a time warp, you’re brought back to the glowing forest before your departure. You see Neteyam’s disappointed expression, the twinge of disgust lacing his features at the thought of wanting you like you wanted him. 

Your heart shatters. 

Just when you thought you were getting over it all. Just when you thought that Ao’nung made you feel alive. Made you feel things you’d never felt before, he was extinguishing every sweet moment. If he was trying to cut ties before you could fall, it was too late. He was dousing the flames that had grown to engulf him and you don’t know how much more you can take. 

“Why would you do this?” you whisper brokenly. “I wanted to be left alone. Why would you force yourself into my life if you don’t want to be in it in the first place? Why would you make me want you?” 

Ao’nung’s expression turns sour. 

“I want to be there for you, ________,” he says fiercely. “You shine so bright and you are so incredible, you don’t even know it, but I can’t do this.” 

“Why?” you hoarse. 

“You are promised to someone else,” he says vehemently. “This entire time, I have sought you out with the intention of making you mine, but your heart belongs to someone else.” 

Your face crumples. 

“What are you— I don’t—“ 

“Neteyam told me to stay away from you,” Ao’nung says. “That you two would solidify your union once it was safe to go back home.” 

“No,” you interject. “That’s not—“ 

“Don’t be cruel,” he says quietly. “I don’t think I can take it.” 

“No, Neteyam and I are nothing,” you spit. “We—“ 

The fury hits you full force as you pull away from Ao’nung and stalk away. 

You don't you hear him rushing to catch up with you. It’s like you’re underwater, hearing muffled as you map the woven path to the Sully’s marui. 

Everything is absolutely red as you clock him.

Neteyam is laughing with Lo’ak and Kiri when you approach. 

The expression on your face is murderous when he looks up and he pales as he stands to meet your barreling figure. You’re shoving him away from you as soon as he steps in your immediate space. 

“How could you?” you cry out. 

Kiri and Lo’ak’s eyes are wide at your outburst, the warrior of few words teeming with anger and emotion as you square your shoulders. Kiri nudges Lo’ak’s shoulder and gestures towards their marui to give you two some privacy. 

“________—“ 

“You told Ao’nung we were promised to each other?” you press, finger jabbing his chest heatedly. 

His face contorts as his spine straightens. 

“Yes, ________, I did,” he confirms, nearly smug.

“Why?” you cry out. “After everything, why would you—“ 

“You’re mine, ________,” he blurts, fists shaking as he closes in on you. “All mine, and I refuse to let anyone have you. Especially Ao’nung.” 

The boy who stands before you is unrecognizable, so taken by anger and envy. 

“You’re heartless,” you whimper. 

“Me?” he asks incredulously, voice breaking as he comes up to grab you by your biceps. “You– You made me fall for you and suddenly you–“ 

“I liked you first,” you choke, eyes searching his wildly. “I liked you first and you told me that you were sorry. In that moment, I could see how you saw me. Pitiful, coarse, misplaced. Ao’nung doesn’t make me feel that way.” 

“Ao’nung doesn’t—“ 

“For once in my life, I feel okay. I feel like I can finally breathe, and that upsets you? You’re jealous? All I’ve known is the forest from a distance, coinciding with clans that make me feel like an outsider! When it’s me and him, that’s all it is, just two souls existing together. This is the first time I can say such.” Your voice is hoarse, drawing wandering eyes. 

Neteyam’s face softens. 

His entire time growing up with you in the forest, he’d never seen you display as much of yourself as you had in this moment. He can feel it pouring from you, every feeling you’d kept locked tight in your heart. He sees it in your eyes, nearly feral as you tremble in his hold. 

“You love him?” It comes out more like a statement, his chest heaving. 

Love. A word that holds the weight of a thousand suns. Four letters that seal your fate. 

Did you love Ao’nung? 

No. You didn’t, but maybe…maybe you could learn to. You could learn to love him just how he’d learned you, how he meticulously dismantled every doubt you had in him. 

“I could,” you whisper. 

Neteyam’s grasp loosens and he looks wounded as he backs away from you, peering down at you like he doesn’t recognize the person you’ve become. 

As the cloud dissipates, you become aware of the eyes watching the entire debacle. 

You shrink, mortified that nearly the entire village knows of your feelings for their Olo’eyktan’s son. 

You turn on your heel to flee, but a sturdy body stands a few feet away, leaned against one of the twisted trunks of a tree supporting the surrounding maruis. 

You swallow. 

“A-Ao’nung,” you splutter. 

His smile is soft, knowing, as he pushes off the tree and comes to stand in front of you. 

“You’re popular, little leaf.” 

You buckle, head bowing in embarrassment. 

“I’m sorry, Ao’nung,” you murmur. “I…” 

His hand comes around your head and pushes your face into the smooth skin of his chest. 

You soften.

“Why are you sorry?” he asks, hand caressing your loosening braids.

“This must be embarrassing,” you whisper. 

He spins your bodies, tugging you back down along the path you marched to confront Neteyam. 

“You could never embarrass me,” he assures you, guiding you towards the village circle. One of his hands turns yours over, inspecting the tiny wounds as you two hurry along. “Let’s get you fixed up, okay?” 

You can barely swallow around the lump forming in your throat as he climbs up into an empty pod used for treating the wounded and helps you up. 

“Sit,” he coaxes, striding to the ledges of supplies, meticulously organized by his own mother. 

You obey, tears streaking your cheeks as you tuck one leg under the other. You don’t feel like the mighty warrior Jake and many of the Omatikaya have made you out to be all of these years. 

You feel small, and you feel weak. All because of a boy. 

“Hand, please,” he says gently, kneeling in front of you with an arm full of remedies. 

You oblige, offering your shaky hand, palm up. 

The blood has dried, revealing small little angry lacerations that sting when he pours a thin liquid to clean them. You hiss and the tears start again. 

“Stop,” he murmurs, wiping away the rivulets that slip. “Stop crying.” 

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, fist balling involuntarily when he slathers a viscous mixture on your palm that soothes the burns. 

“Stop apologizing,” he says softly. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” 

He places a leaf over your palm and then wraps your hand in a soft cloth that sates the ache. When you’re all patched up, he brings your fingers to his lips, then holds them tightly in his lap. 

“I need to hear it for myself,” he sighs.

“Hear what?” you croak. 

“Every moment I spent with you since your arrival has been precious to me,” Ao’nung says. “I want you to say it to me.” 

You’re in knots, swallowing hard as he blurs. 

You take a gasping breath as you will yourself not to cry. 

“I want you, Ao’nung. I see you,” you warble. “And I’m petrified to admit it because admitting it means I’m being vulnerable, but I want you to see me too.” 

His lips curve, pulling you forward so that you have to catch yourself on your uninjured hand. 

“You scared me for a little there,” he whispers, mouth a hairsbreadth from yours. “I don’t know what I would do if all that time we spent together meant nothing to you.” 

You swallow for the thousandth time. 

“Never,” you shudder. 

His smile widens. 

“You’re not gonna stop me, are you?” he asks, lips ghosting yours as his eyes search your own. 

“No,” you murmur.

“Good,” he sighs.

He kisses you like you’re delicate, pulling you into him to taste every unspoken word you’ve held onto since the first night he came to you. 

When he pulls away from you, forehead resting against yours, he’s so quiet when he whispers. 

But you hear him all the same. 

“I see you, little leaf.” 

an — AHH second full length oneshot is done! if you've made it this far, i thank you again! i had so much fun writing this request and once more want to express gratitude the anon to shot me this idea! ALSO purposefully left out details of their little rendezvous' so that i could do some drabbles for them in the future! next fic is (finally) the lo'ak x reader i've been blabbing about.

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