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#ugh this gives me no excuse not to write
autistic-katara · 7 months
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fuck its 5am the insanity has set in
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astrobei · 1 year
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bandaging/stitching up an injury with stonathan PLEASE i need more of them
The first thing Jonathan does when he sees him is let out a long, slow whistle.
“Jesus,” he mutters, crossing the living room in three quick steps. “What’s wrong with your face?”
“Got beat up by a racist piece of shit,” Steve mutters, leaning back against the sofa cushions and holding a bag of frozen peas to his face. Ow. “But don’t tell anyone. It can’t be good for my street cred.”
Steve’s got his eyes mostly closed, still, but he sees Jonathan’s face do a funny twitching thing, like he was about to laugh. “What street cred,” Jonathan says, and he doesn’t laugh, exactly, but Steve hears one in his voice anyway. “Your street cred died out a long time ago.”
“Yeah, okay, very funny. Chuff it up, Byers,” Steve grumbles, adjusting the bag of peas and trying to find another cold spot. It’s mostly room temperature now, sloshing around wetly with each movement, which is more disgusting than anything else. Steve lets out a frustrated noise. “Great. And now my peas are warm.”
“I’ll get you another bag,” Jonathan says, because right, this is his house, and Steve is getting blood all over his couch like the world’s actual worst houseguest. If his parents saw his appalling lack of manners, there would be some words to be said.
Well maybe about the bloody face first. And then the manners.
Maybe.
Jonathan opens the freezer door and stops dead in his tracks. “Steve?”
“Mm?”
“Why is there a– Jesus, I don’t even know what this is, and I’m a little afraid to ask– why is there a thing in my fridge?”
Ah. Right. 
“Listen,” Steve starts apologetically. “Henderson was just shooting me these giant puppy eyes and going on and on about scientific discovery or some shit and honestly I didn’t really want to have to deal with taking it outside. Like, what do you even do with the bodies? Burn ‘em? Bury ‘em? Ritual sacrifice?”
Jonathan peers at him over the refrigerator door, and blinks. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Ritual sacrifice,” Steve says again, waving a noncommittal hand in the air. “You know. You’re always listening to those broody, scary guys with the weird hair and the– uh, the guitars. You know.”
“I think you’re concussed,” Jonathan says simply, pulling a face as he presumably reaches around the Demodog’s body for the peas. “Did you hit your head?”
“I hit a lot of things,” Steve laughs, which is maybe answering Jonathan’s question.
“You ruined the good quilt,” Jonathan frowns, letting the door fall shut. “You owe me a new one.”
Steve extends his arm as Jonathan walks back, pressing the new bag to his face with a relieved sigh as he says, “Sure, yeah, come over to mine and take your pick. My aunt just took up quilting actually.”
Jonathan peers down at him. He’s still standing up, hovering, somehow managing to look uncomfortable in the middle of his own living room. “Did she really?”
“No idea,” Steve admits. “Haven’t heard from her since last December. I think she got cancer and died.”
“Steve,” Jonathan laughs, a little shocked, “that’s morbid,” and, okay, maybe Steve is a little concussed after all.
“Whatever,” he says, then pats the sofa next to him. “Sit down, man, it’s your house.”
Jonathan sits. Steve tilts his head back, presses the peas to the bruise he knows is blossoming a dark and vibrant purple around his eye. Jonathan’s watching him, silently observant like he always is. It should be unsettling. It used to be unsettling, back before Steve exchanged a proper, actual sentence with him. Now it’s kind of comforting, knowing that he doesn’t need to fill up the silence with meaningless blabbering.
Doesn’t mean he won’t do it anyway.
“You look like shit,” he blurts out, eyeing the way Jonathan’s shirt has gone all streaked with dirt and is still a little patchy with sweat. His hair is sticking to his forehead, and he looks like he’s been up for three days straight, but he still seems more awake than Steve is feeling. Alert. The usual slouchiness to his posture is gone, replaced by something less, uh, tortured. A little calmer, maybe. “How much do you sweat?”
“Well, we had to sweat the Mind Flayer out of Will,” Jonathan says casually, like he’s recounting a Saturday afternoon out on the town. “And we cranked the heat up to, like, a hundred thirty or something so yeah, I’m a little sweaty.”
Steve stares. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope.”
“So he’s– he’s okay then? Where is he?”
Jonathan plucks at a stray thread sticking out of the couch. It’s old upholstery, and Steve can see a smattering of old, faded stains across the cushions, but it’s soft and worn and comfortable, and nothing like the ones in Steve’s own living room. “Well, Owens is hurt so he had to call someone in and it’s a whole mess that basically means the fewer people the better for tonight.”
Steve isn't really sure who Owens is, and he can't really discern from Jonathan’s tone whether or not he’s supposed to be happy about this guy being unexpectedly incapacitated. “Ah,” he says anyway. “Is he okay?”
“Yes?” Jonathan offers. Steve watches him out of the corner of his eye. He fiddles with his thumbs. Steve wants to reach out and grab his hands, just to still them, calm him down. “I can go first thing in the morning, it’s just– Hopper has some pull and my mom is– well, she’s our mom, and– I don’t know, okay, I just look at him and I see this thing that had its hands around my mom’s throat and I think to myself, hey, that’s my little brother. You know?”
Steve feels a little blown away. A little– flabbergasted, maybe. He’s not sure he’s heard Jonathan Byers say this much at one time in his entire life, and as it is, he stops talking suddenly, biting down on his lower lip like he had more to say but just isn’t.
“Yeah,” Steve croaks, even though he doesn’t know. He’s an only child and he’s spent most of his childhood alone and he guesses he has the Henderson kid now, but that’s not the same. Jonathan and Will– they’re something else. He isn’t really sure what to say other than that, so he just reaches out, places a hand on Jonathan’s knee, and squeezes. Like maybe this can say something he can’t. “I’m sorry. He’ll be okay. He’s a tough kid.”
Jonathan looks down at Steve’s hand on his knee and then back up, meeting his gaze. Something flits across his face, lightning fast and then it’s gone. “Thanks,” he says, a little quieter than before. 
Steve wonders if maybe he should move his hand, but Jonathan doesn’t seem to be all that bothered by it and Steve thinks, privately, that he likes the steady weight of him under his palm. Heavy and solid. Strangely anchoring. Maybe it’s the possible concussion talking. Maybe it’s not.
“Yeah,” Steve whispers.
A moment passes like this. The house is quiet. Everyone else has gone home, to the hospital, wherever they have to go, and Steve is here because he’d taken Dustin home and then thought about his own house– dark and empty and wholly more terrifying than any of the monsters or the blood or the douchebag assholes in open-front shirts and mullets– and he’d ended up here.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Jonathan says after a second. “You’ve got– it’s a lot of dried blood.”
“Sorry about the couch,” Steve says pathetically, as if he hadn’t been getting his messed up face all over it for the last thirty minutes. “You can get the blood out of it, I think.”
Jonathan is digging something out from under the sink– a first aid kit that looks like it’s been sitting there since the first World War. “Believe me,” he says. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
Steve lifts the bag of peas off his face. This one’s starting to go warm too, and he blinks blearily in the living room light as he peels his particularly sore eye open. “Be honest with me, Byers,” he calls out after Jonathan as he ducks into the bathroom, then pops back out a second later with a clean washcloth in hand. “How many murders have you committed in this house?”
Jonathan laughs at that, sudden and sharp, and then he makes a face like he’s surprised with himself for doing it. It’s unexpected, the sound, and it’s even more unexpected the way something swoops low in Steve’s chest. Like it’s some kind of victory, making Jonathan want to laugh so badly that he surprised himself by doing it, like he really just couldn’t help himself. “Zero,” he says, making his way back to the sofa. “So far. Here– come here.”
Steve isn’t really sure where here is, because then Jonathan is sitting down next to him and their knees are touching and there’s not really anywhere he can go that isn’t already as close as he can physically get to him. So he just leans his head in a little, turns his face up towards the light. “Good?”
“Shit.” Jonathan makes a sympathetic noise in the back of his throat. He cups a hand around Steve’s jaw, tilting his face a little to the right. “He got you good, huh?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Steve mutters, and Jonathan lets out another one of those sudden, quick laughs. Steve bites back a smile. Good, he thinks, a little absently. Good.
“I see what you mean about the street cred,” Jonathan murmurs. “Nice bandaids, by the way.”
“Courtesy of your brother’s idiot friends,” Steve sighs, and then winces as the cloth makes contact with a cut on his cheek. “Shit. Ow.”
“It’s a little one,” Jonathan smirks. “How is it that you can’t deal with a little–”
“It’s the fucking rings,” Steve bemoans, this time focusing very hard on keeping his face neutral as Jonathan dabs the dried blood away. “What kind of asshole wears that many rings on one hand?”
“The kind of asshole that goes around punching people?” Jonathan offers, and Steve rolls his eyes.
“Very funny.”
“I don’t know,” Jonathan continues, ducking his head down and finding a clean spot on the towel. There’s a smile playing on his lips, even if he thinks Steve can’t see him. “I’m pretty sure I remember doing some damage even without any rings on.”
“Congratulations,” Steve says drily, “you’re better than the guy who rubs himself down with body oil before leaving the house.”
Jonathan laughs at this, a real, loud laugh, and Steve thinks, for a fleeting second, that he might like this laugh even better than the other one. “I should hope so,” Jonathan is saying, and then he’s leaning in again and dabbing at Steve’s forehead. “That doesn’t seem like a very high bar.”
“You should do that more,” Steve murmurs, watching Jonathan’s mouth twitch in concentration. 
Jonathan frowns, then glances down, meeting Steve’s gaze. “Do what?”
“Laugh,” Steve says, the single syllable halfway out of his mouth before he has any inclination to, oh, I don’t know, maybe not say that? He’s thinking about the way Jonathan had lit up for a moment there, the way the weariness he always seems to carry around him sloughed off his shoulders, even if for just a second. What comes out of his mouth though, instead of any halfway eloquent manner of saying this, is, “It makes your face look nice.”
Maybe he is concussed. In a very real, serious way, maybe Steve Harrington is currently suffering from a grade-A concussion.
Jonathan looks a little bit horrified, but mostly kind of confused. He shakes his head. “It makes my– okay, you definitely have a concussion,” he says at last, which, yeah, Steve had been coming to this conclusion himself, actually. “So try not to get any major brain damage before we can get you checked out, yeah?”
“I’m trying,” Steve says, and then, “ow, dude, you can be a little more gentle, you know.”
“Sorry,” and Jonathan does sound a bit apologetic as he says this. He’s got one hand still cupped under Steve’s chin, fingers resting lightly against his jaw.
Steady hands, Steve thinks, closing his eyes as Jonathan wipes over them. Steady hands. A more gentle touch than he would have expected from someone so rough-looking. All broad shoulders and frown lines and a piercing kind of stare. “It’s just not coming off too easy.”
“Yeah, it’s dried down,” Steve says, “it’s been a few hours.”
Jonathan hums in acknowledgement and turns Steve’s face towards the light some more. “You should have cleaned it up before,” he says softly. “Your face is all swollen.”
“I told him not to hit the moneymaker,” Steve says in a deadpan. “He didn’t listen.”
Jonathan shoots him an exasperated glare, then hands him the squishy bag of peas again as he digs around in his ancient first aid kit. “Ice.”
“No, those are peas,” Steve says without thinking, and then Jonathan groans and drops his head into both hands.
“When my mom gets back with the car, you’re going to the hospital.”
“I’m fine,” Steve grins, placing the peas back over his eyes. “Seriously. My dad always said I had a thick skull.”
“I’m not sure that’s a compliment,” Jonathan says. He pulls out a tube of ointment, something thick and pasty, and beckons Steve forward again. “Come here.”
The ointment smells about as bad as it looks, and Steve pulls a face. “Dude,” he crinkles up his nose, “what the hell is that?”
“It’s gross but it works,” Jonathan says, frowning in concentration. He smears a thin layer of it over the cut on Steve’s forehead, all cleaned up now that the blood’s washed away. “Trust me.”
“Trust–”
The tube is almost empty. Steve swallows lightly and looks away.
It feels like he’s intruding on something, having Jonathan be so close to him. Being close enough to see the little spots where he’d nicked himself shaving, or how his hair is streaked through with a little blonde, the kind you can’t tell apart from ordinary brown until you’re really, really up close and personal. Which Steve– totally is. Oh, okay.
Steve swallows again, and closes his eyes.
“One down,” Jonathan murmurs, making his way over to a cut on Steve’s temple, “ninety nine to go.”
“He didn’t land that many hits,” Steve whispers, eyes still squeezed tightly shut. “Give me some credit.”
“Mike says you got him really good once,” Jonathan says, “so maybe there’s hope for you after all.”
It sounds like he’s smiling a little. Steve is tempted– so tempted– to open his eyes, just to see that.
He doesn’t. 
“You just got lucky, Byers,” he says instead. “You caught me off guard.”
“And then I caught you off guard again. And again, and again,” Jonathan says, and he’s definitely smiling now. “Two down.”
Steve lets out a long, slow exhale. “At this rate, I’ll have graduated by the time you’re done.”
“You should be thanking me,” Jonathan huffs, but it doesn’t sound malicious at all. He strokes a thumb over Steve’s cheekbone, and Steve fights back a shiver.
“Thank you,” he says, as genuinely as he can muster, then opens his eyes. Jonathan is staring straight at him, eyes a little wide, cheeks a little red. Steve grabs his wrist, the one that’s right up by his face, and says, “That’s– I’m being serious, by the way. I’m not trying to fuck with you.”
“Sure,” Jonathan gets out. “Okay.”
“I’m sorry I made you hit me,” Steve goes on, and if he has a concussion after all, he can blame whatever he’s saying on that. And he must be, because it’s getting hard to think in a straight line, and every train of thought just keeps circling back around to this. Warm fingertips moving over his face. So gently, like Steve is– like he’s something delicate. Something to be handled with care.
“I– it’s okay.”
Jonathan doesn’t blink. It should be more unnerving than it is. He’s got pretty eyes, Steve thinks, from a little bit out of his body. They’ve got some green in them. A little gold, too.
“I was an ass,” Steve says, and Jonathan’s eyes dart between his. Trying to see, maybe, if Steve is trying to fuck with him. If there’s a punchline at the end of this, somewhere, and whether or not that punchline is him.
Whatever he’s searching for, he must not find it, because he sighs and says, “I know.”
“You–! Okay,” Steve mutters. “Low blow, but I guess I’m the one apologizing here, so I should be able to take it and not expect a–”
“I’m not mad,” Jonathan interrupts, and then moves down to Steve’s jaw. He hadn’t even known he got hurt there, but because he’s him, of course he did. “That’s five.”
Steve blinks. “You’re not?”
“We’re different people now.” Jonathan shrugs, dips a finger through the ointment and smears it across the skin there. The smell of something strong and medicinal hits Steve head-on, and he wrinkles up his nose. “You, me. You’re not a total piece of work, and I’m not a–”
“Brooding loser,” Steve cuts in, and Jonathan gives him a look.
“I was going to say guy whose brother went missing,” Jonathan says, and then he rubs the pad of his finger over a particularly tender spot– a deep part of the cut underlaid with a bruise Steve doesn’t even have to see to know is there– and Steve lets out a startled hiss of pain.
“Ah–”
“Sorry!” And he really does sound sorry, and Steve figures they’d just been having a nice little talk so it wasn’t, like, mean or an act of petty revenge or anything. “Shit, yeah, let’s get you a bandaid for that one.”
“No Star Wars?” Steve jokes, as Jonathan comes up with– thank god– a plain beige one.
Jonathan squints at him, peeling the paper backing off. “Have you ever seen Star Wars?”
“Not once,” Steve admits. “No one I know is into that sort of thing.”
“You know me,” Jonathan says easily, running a finger over the bandaid and then pausing. “I mean–”
“Whoa,” Steve laughs. He tries to go for casual, for good-natured, but it comes out a little too overeager, stilted. “Are you asking me out, Byers?”
Jonathan blanches. “I– no.”
Belatedly, Steve realizes that this joke might have been marginally more funny if it came from anyone but him. “I didn’t mean–”
“I know what you meant.” Jonathan traces his thumb over to the last cut, sideways across Steve’s upper lip. “And you didn’t mean it like that.”
Steve shifts uncomfortably. “Hey, man, look–”
“You can probably deal with this last one on your own,” Jonathan says, but doesn’t move his hand away. “Your lip is busted, but it’s not too bad.”
“Okay,” Steve whispers. He doesn’t move either. “Thanks for patching me up.”
“Thanks for being there today,” Jonathan says back. “I saw you with the kids. You’re good with them.”
Steve huffs out a small laugh, and it gets caught there, somewhere along the line between Jonathan’s thumb and wrist, still snagged onto the curve of his upper lip. “Oh that? It was nothing.”
Jonathan shakes his head. It’s minute, barely noticeable. “They look up to you. Dustin, especially. It’s sweet.”
“Yeah, well, someone had to step up. Not everyone can have a–”
Jonathan raises his eyebrows. “A what?”
You, Steve thinks, heart picking up pace suddenly. Not everyone can have you. 
“They can’t all have–”
The word you never makes it out of his mouth, because then Jonathan is kissing him.
Steve gasps, because he has an open fucking wound on his lip and this is probably a thousand different kinds of unhygienic and an excellent way to spread another thousand different kinds of germs. And then Jonathan’s hands cup either side of his face and he’s pressing in so hard that it can’t be fueled by anything other than instinct and desperation, and then all thoughts regarding germs and sanitation and wow I’m glad he washed his hands before getting all up in my busted face fly right out of Steve’s head.
He’s warm, is the first thing Steve notices. The second and third are, in order, that he’s very broad and he’s very solid. It’s nothing like kissing a girl. There’s no give to him, no softness to the rigid muscles of his arms that Steve had no idea even existed. He’s gripping onto Jonathan’s forearms, apparently, which he doesn’t remember doing but he can’t find the state of mind to do literally anything else.
Jonathan’s arms are solid and rough and the muscles flex gently under Steve’s palms. He’s so solid, anchoring, and he’s holding Steve’s face like that again– like Steve is a delicate thing. Something that needs to be handled with a ginger touch, with appreciation, with trace amounts of tenderness.
Jonathan’s lips press into his once, then twice, like he just couldn’t help himself, and Steve makes what is maybe the most embarrassing noise he’s made in his life to date. This is good, he thinks. And he knows good. He’s Steve Harrington, okay, he basically invented it. But where the hell did Jonathan Byers learn how to kiss?
“Okay,” Steve hears himself say the second Jonathan pulls back. “What was–”
“Don’t freak out,” Jonathan says, sounding like he’s on the verge of freaking out himself. “Please don’t freak out. I need you to not freak out.”
“Who, me?” If Steve’s voice cracks, just a little, neither of them say anything. “I would never. Never ever ever ever– um. So why did you– not that I’m– yeah.”
“Like I said,” Jonathan says, “we’re different people now,” and he looks nowhere near as totally and completely thrown for a loop as Steve feels at the moment. His ears are bright red, though, and there’s a light dusting of pink across the tops of his cheekbones, and it feels like another victory, getting Jonathan Byers to blush. 
“Cool,” Steve says faintly. His lip is throbbing, and he brings a hand up to his mouth and pulls it away to see red on his fingers. “Ah, great,” he winces. “Look what you did, man. You fucked my lip up again.”
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blueren · 1 year
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East
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parameddic · 4 months
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man he loves his family. any and all excuses to interact with them wake him RIGHT up. at any point on any day if he can talk to his friends about anybody he has met he goes 🥺🥰 about it.
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skywitchmaja · 2 years
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oh my god. just saw a post that pissed me off SO MUCH. ugh. in short:
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#maybe i’ll write a reply but i am not one to get involved with discourse#basically the post was saying ‘you ARE immune to propaganda! propaganda will not influence your thoughts and ideals! ✨’#which EXCUSE ME that is the literal INTENT AND PURPOSE OF PROPAGANDA! do you even know what the word propaganda MEAAAAANS???!??#ugh. okay. in context they were saying ‘historians who study nazi propaganda do not necessarily believe nazi ideology’ WHICH I DONT DISAGREE#WITH!!! BUT!!!! that is a very specific context of people who have (ideally) spent years learning critical thinking and media analysis and#contextualizing— people who have probably been explicitly taught that nazi propaganda is bad from a young age and examining it in the contex#in the context of the harm it caused!!! but that is VERY FUCKING DIFFERENT from random ppl (in some contexts kids) being exposed to#fox news or alt right youtube algorithms or fucking q anon. all of which present themselves as ‘spreading the truth’ with present day urgenc#and without the context your middle school history teacher will give you.#even that guy who was researching q anon (i can’t remember if it was cullen hoback or someone else) in a critical/journalistic context#said he had to take his breaks bc he could feel himself following some of their logic#anyway suggesting that you ARE in fact immune to propaganda and you’re either ontologically evil or you’re not…#is not the hot take you think it is.#if i remembered that guy who was researching q anon i would make like. a real post/reblog but i won’t do that without sources#(i did a quick google & ‘guy who’s researching q anon has to take breaks’ didn’t give me results#at least not in the headlines i didn’t comb through all the articles#‘know your enemy’ is good in theory but you need to go in with a robust toolbox of critical thinking skills and#‘i’m immune to nazi propaganda because i’m not a nazi’ is absolutely NOT something that should be in that toolbox. god.
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sinning-23 · 1 month
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Bikinis On Top (OPLA Bikini Headcannons)
Seeing their bbygrl in a bikini opla headcannons
THis gets a lil RISQUE soooo 18+
Hey youguys i know its been a while lol I've been s swamped with work and Enjoy this in honor of hot girl summer approaching lmao I promise I'm getting back into eh groove of writing!
alos pls excuse spelling errors yall know me lmao
Luffy
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-It’s hot and his shirts are open 9 times out of 10 so
-He was a bit stunned to see you with one of Nami's bikini tops adorning your chest with a nice pair of jean shorts.
-Boobs boobs boobs boobs boobs
-He's really trying to act normal but you can always tell when those big brown eyes start shifting from your face to your chest. And he always has that goofy grin on his face
-Strongly believe he's the type to impulsively bite them. lmao like literally grab two handfuls and CHOMP.
-He always was more of a boobs guy.
Zoro
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-"Where's the rest of your shirt."
-He’s got his eyes skillfully flickering from your chest to your eyes then to you collar bone and again.
-“You don’t like me showing them off?” You question, slipping past him with a smile
-the funny thing is, you’re not talking about your boobs. You’re talking about the bites and hickeys he skillfully placed along them
-crazy how near the end of the day, the only thing the crew can seem to find as a trace of you is the discarded bikini top
Sanji
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-He helped you tie it this morning when the sun had first been shining to brightly into your room, heating both of you up.
-personally, Sanji likes it when you wear the full piece, the straps of your bottoms just barely peaking out from the low-rise jeans you've got on.
-He also is one to pull your strings when you're also so the top just falls down to reveal the girls
-Is the type to lift you up out of the pool and set you up to sit on the steps like the goddess you are and just admire.
Usopp
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-matching swimsuit set matching swimsuit set matching swimsuit set
-He always likes seeing you in a nice brown or sage green two-piece.
-won't say anything but wow when he sees you and smiles.
-Keep it polite but just know his hugs from behind will always end with him pulling at your bottom straps and letting them snap against your skin.
"USOPP!" You yelp, narrowing your brows at him while you massage the spot.
"Ok ok, i'm sorry mommas" He chuckles, pressing a kiss to the affected area, his large hands massaging the flesh of your thighs.
Nami
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-Strictly a bikini gf and wifebeater+swim trunks gf duo lmao
-This can go either way actually. If she feels like a bikini kinda day it's gonna be a bright orange or a pure white with a sunhat and a nice flowy cover-up
-A she can't and won't make it easy for you to keep your hands off her,
-If YOU are in the bikini and she's in the swim trunks she REFUSES to keep her hands off you. She knows her girl looks good asf.
-Expect to have your ass smacked.
Shanks
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-Is definitely keeping you on his lap while everyone else is splashing around. It was a pretty chill day and everyone decided hey why not go for a swim
"Can I please get in the water Shanks?" You sigh, pulling the strings of his swim trunks as he smiles and gives a quick "Nuh-uh"
-"Your ass looks too good. Just stay here a little longer hm?" he asks, squeezing your thighs, pressing kisses to your shoulder.
-He doesn't waste time taking you somewhere secluded to pull those bottoms to the side, somehow loving the way your ass looks in those bottoms every time he thrusts
Mihawk
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-He personally likes it when you wear one of that cute pinup like 50's monokinis? And some wedges with a bandana. UGH he's gonna be right there with you avoiding the sun under the umbrella (that pale ass skin lmao)
-Will 100% lather you in sunscreen and just paper your shoulder with kisses.
-He's not taking you to eh pool he's taking you to the beach and you're just sitting together, enjoying one another company
-"I'm fucking you within an inch of your life after this." H admits in monotone, skin already starting to darken in a tan
-"Yes splendid." You reply still resting, enjoying the faint heat of the sun.
Buggy
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-HAHAAAAAA this man will tear it off and then feel bad and get you another one...just to tear that off too
-is a sucker for the bikinis with anything on the boobs lmao he thinks they look like targets
-I like to think that ocean water is the only thing like that is an issue lmao so it is safe to say he's in the pool every summer, roughhousing with you and the rest of his crew
-I mean just a bunch of fucking kids lmao, macro polo, chicken fight, pretending to be a shark, you name it
-accidentally caused a nip slip tho and yelled for everyone to look away while shielding his girl.
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san8ny · 24 days
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Hiii i have a request, could u write about ex ellie still totally in love with u, she comes to your house to pick her things up, you guys end up fucking and start to date again?
(Emoji just to identify it was me 🌸)
Sweet Girl.
an: had to contribute to the sub! Ellie shortage..srry if shes pretty pathetic../wc: 1.09k
“We both need to move on.”
Ellie lets out a frustrated huff at your blunt response, her gaze fixed on the ceiling. “I don’t want to move on from you. I don’t want anyone else. I want you.” She sighs again, feeling so hopelessly vulnerable like this. But she knows they’re already past the point of holding back.
“But you—“
“Please..” Ellie looks up from where she’s kneeled at your bedpost, her gaze hungry and desperately possessive. She doesn’t want to have to think about anything else right now. She just wants to be this, tangled up in bed with you. “Please..”
“Ugh, ‘els.” You sigh annoyed and obviously irritated with the time of night she’s decided to come bother you.
2:22 AM
Ellie lets out a short whine at the nickname, her body already responding to your exasperation. She leans down and buries her face in your lap, pressing as much of herself against you as possible. “I want you so bad,” she whispers pathetically like you didn’t hear her the last 200 times.
“You know what? Fine, but you’re gonna get the fuck up out of my house after this.” You press, pulling her from the wooden floorboard and onto your bed, “and you’re going to listen to everything I say.”
“I-i always do—“
“Answer.”
Ellie shudders at the menacing tone of your voice, “Everything,” she whispers, her hands running over your body. “ ‘i’ll do everything you want..just, shit, touch me...”
You hum at the soft pleading, massaging her scalp lightly with your fingertips, an attempt to ease her into a state of relaxation; Ellie’s eyes feel heavy as she slumps into you, you’re so pretty..
“ What happened to getting your stuff?”
Ellie groans, letting out a petulant huff when you catch onto her excuse to come over. “I’ll grab my stuff later,” she mutters, lifting her head to look at you with a pleading look in her eyes. “Why won’t you touch me..”
You scoff, taking your hands away from her scalp and pushing her away, “Impatient girls don’t get jack.”
Ellie's eyes widen as you push her away, her breath suddenly hitching in her throat. "W-what?" her voice comes out as a strangled whisper.
She feels utterly humiliated, her heart clenching hard in her chest. "Is this some kind of punishment for what I did? Making me want you this bad, and then turning me away?" She feels foolish and humiliated, tears pricking at her eyes.
“Say you��re sorr—
"I'm sorry," Ellie chokes out before you can even complete the order. The words feel foreign in her mouth, but her heart tightens as she forces them out. "I'm sorry for what I did. I'm sorry for pushing you away. I'm sorry for being so impatient. I'm sorry for..." Her voice breaks, tears streaming down her cheeks. She looks up at you, her eyes pleading. "I'm sorry for everything. Please, baby. Let me stay. Let me make it up to you."
She hesitates a moment before she clambers forward to sit on your lap again, her body pressing flush against yours.
you sigh in content, “Such a good girl you are, Ellie.” cupping her cheeks, you tilt her head backwards to slightly face you, “Pick where you want me to touch first.”
A shiver runs down Ellie’s spine at the question, but she doesn’t hesitate in her answer. “Lips,” she whispers. She wants to taste your mouth again, feels like she’s starving for it. “Kiss me,” her voice coming out needy and desperate.
Ellie moans hungrily into the kiss once you give in, her hand coming down to your side to your arm, holding you close as she kisses back. Her tongue pushes past your soft lips, tasting herself as she lets all her pent up desperation and longing bleed out and into the kiss.
“Missed you so much,” she babbles, “Nothing has felt the same without you. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t think. I just need you. I need you so bad..” her back arching involuntarily as your lips start trailing down her neck
You nod against her skin, nose brushing up on her nape where your perky tits were to her toned back, “Gonna make you feel so good, baby. Hm? ‘dunno if you’re gonna wanna leave after this actually..”
Ellie feels dumbed out from how your smooth hands slowly slither into the waistband of her sweatpants, slipping them off; she also, can’t help the slight smile that grazes her face in the realization of what is just about to occur between the two exes.
loveyouloveyouloveyou
“Gotta let me know what to do, sweet girl. Ungh...you’re so wet..” you preen when the pads of your fingers meet contact with the pleasurable mess Ellie’s made underneath the layering
Your compliments don’t help as much when you begin to rub her puffy mound, constricting hold feeling like sweet death to Ellie in addition to the sticky boxers she still had on.
shittttttt….
After some while, you kiss behind her ear right on a pressure point
“You still with me?” You murmur, knowing how little she can get off on if you tick her just the right way. she’s always been ultrasensitive, “Gonna give me a big one?..” your fingers don’t let up on the assault, occasionally rolling her clit in between your digits all the while,
She lets a small squeak out before leaning an arm back over her shoulder to hold your neck, almost in an attempt to press you closer to her like you both had space inbetween— you didn’t, “Uhn..uhn—! I’m g-gonna cum..” She whimpers,
You kiss the crown of her head before grinding the heel for your palm further onto her, “juust like that, like how I taught you..” She eventually does orgasm, repeating your name like a prayer while you talk her through it,
Ellie is breathless and boneless, her body utterly spent and sated from the intensity of the moment. She lets out long, shaky exhale as she blinks her eyes open, taking in the sight of you in front of her, hair tousled and cheeks flushed. “That was…” she begins, her voice coming out a breathy whisper, but the words to describe it don’t come.
“Still gonna leave?” You ask, licking your digits
Ellie almost laughs at the question, still spent from the high she feels. “God, no,” she whispers. She lifts a trembling hand to your face, her fingers dancing over your soft skin. “After that? I’m never letting you kick me out again.” She presses a chaste kiss against your collarbone.
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yesimwriting · 4 months
Note
OKAY idk if you keep taking thoughts but this IS the dynamic I had thought for Felix since DAY ONE, so of course I need more best friend!felix and maybe this one is a typical one but...
The jealousy??? like this man is very facial and expressive and protective, especially towards the reader.... so I thought about him watching any of his friends flirting with them? And maybe also being way too touchy? You can decide if reader is comfortable in all that or not (I think she wouldn't), but having him like trying not to be a dick but also like needing to, like they're my best friend shush so yeah, I'd love it if you could write something like that! thankss
a/n omg that one scene in saltburn where felix is like 'you're my friend,, you're supposed to be here with me' yeah i knew immediately
----
"Sorry, darling." Despite the soft, almost far off cadence of Farleigh's voice, his words manage to cut through the atmosphere of the party. He leans forward, handing off his half finished joint to the girl standing next to you. "This stuff's heavy, and I don't need Felix on me tonight."
You frown. His denial doesn't get to you as much as the way he's framing it. Like you're a child that needs to be looked after. Like you're Felix's property.
If you weren't already a few drinks in, you'd dismiss Farleigh's words with an eye roll. The buzz burning in your veins latches onto that pinch of irritation. The full sounding giggle that comes from the nameless girl by your side only amplifies the feeling. "I don't do everything Felix says."
"No," he agrees, "You do just enough to be a good, little pet." You cross your arms in front of your chest, tilting your head to better glare at him.
The feel of something touching your shoulder cracks the tension. Your head turns. Felix. Despite your annoyance, Felix's sudden appearance at your side has you easing. He leans forward, pressing a kiss against your cheek near the corner of your mouth. "I was looking for you."
You smile, placing your hand over the one Felix still has on your shoulder. "You seemed busy, decided to take a lap."
He brushes his thumb against your shoulder. "Never too busy for you, darling." Felix has a way of making things that should feel just polite sound genuine. "How're you doing?"
"Farleigh's being mean."
"Didn't let her smoke." Farleigh explains flatly, taking the joint back from the girl. "After the way you reacted last time, it wasn't worth it."
Felix squeezes your arm. "That true?" You're not given a chance to respond. "You know how you get. Especially after drinking." You blink at him, eyes wide and lips pressed together. "Don't give me that look." It's too gentle to be a scolding. "We can smoke when you're sober, if you want."
You're not one to crave getting high too often. There's a sluggishness to it that you have to be in a certain mood for. But something about smoking with Felix, in his room with the window open and the two of you lounging like the only things that matter are what's within arm's reach, is unbelievably soothing.
Even in your current state, you're fully aware of the fact that you're getting the better end of the deal. But with Farleigh's smug comment and that random girl that laughed still paying attention, you don't feel comfortable agreeing in front of everyone.
"You're looking for an excuse to argue." Ugh. The way he reads you is almost eerie. You press your lips together to keep from giggling, watching him carefully. You shake your head, a flimsy attempt at denial. "Yes." Felix leans closer, grinning. He drapes an arm around your back, pulling you against his chest. " I can see it in your eyes."
"My eyes are innocent."
His freehand moves to hold your chin, angling your head to better look you in the eye. He's focused, exuding more concentration than the moment warrants. That's the thing about Felix, crowded room or empty dorm, it doesn't matter. He has a talent for making anyone feel like the only person in the world.
"Hm," he hums, "You pass." Despite coming to a conclusion, he makes no effort to move away from you. "Want to get another drink?"
You nod, "Yeah."
"C'mon, then." He drops one arm, waving a halfhearted goodbye to Farleigh before guiding you forward.
Felix keeps an arm around your shoulders as you maneuver through the chaos of the party. It's instinct to accept his lead, a part of you more glad for it than usual. You're starting to feel fuzzy, and with Felix guiding you, it's safer to accept the sensation.
"Oh my god!" A squeal and then your name.
You turn your head, eyes landing on a familiar face from your lit class. "Daphne!" She's a newer friend that you mainly know from exchanging lecture notes and working on essays together. A part of you is surprised to see her here, but you guess you shouldn't be. Now that you're thinking about it, you feel like you've seen her around Felix's friends before. "Hey."
Daphne approaches you with a wide grin. "I didn't know you were here." She then glances to Felix, and then Felix's arm, and then back to Felix. "Hi, Felix."
If he notices Daphne's curious scrutiny, he gives no indication of it. "Hi, Daphne," he greets, confirming that they do run in the same circles.
She smiles politely before turning her attention back to you, "It's been a minute since I've seen you." Daphne tosses a glossy strand of hair over her shoulder. "We need to catch up, I found out the best thing about the girl that sits in the front row that always tells everyone her grades."
"Bragger girl? She's the worst."
"Oh, you have no idea."
Felix squeezes your arm, turning your attention back towards him. "I'll get you your drink, you catch up with your friend." You beam at him as his arm gently moves off your shoulder.
As soon as he's disappeared into the crowd, Daphne gasps, "Oh my god, whatever's going on there is better than my bragger girl story."
You blink. "What?" Confusion and Felix's absence make you feel slightly off balance. It takes you a moment to catch up. "Oh, Felix? We're friend." Daphne presses her lips together, the look she's giving you not entirely convinced. "C'mon, tell me about bragger girl."
"Okay." Daphne gestures to an empty coach that's been pushed against a wall. "Let's sit?"
The two of you make it to the edge of the room. Daphne's not shy about taking up space, letting her long legs extend into the start of where people might walk. She trusts the world to move for her. It hits you then that your friendship with Daphne, like your relationships with a lot of people you've been spending time with recently, doesn't make make sense on paper.
You sit, grateful for the chance to lean against something sturdy.
"Alright," Daphne starts, angling her body towards you, "Bragger girl--never's gotten an imperfect score girl--" She cuts herself off with a soft, tipsy giggle. "Is hooking up with the TA."
Oh, you're fully hooked. "What?" Daphne nods, expression satisfied. "No way." There's no way to prove the connection between that girl always managing to beat your scores by a few points and any of her personal relationships, but come on. "Wait--with--with which one--the tall one or--or the one with the--" You're too out of it to recall a good descriptor, "Hair."
Daphne laughs again, "Hair?" You shrug at her. "Doesn't matter how little sense that makes, because that's the--the best part of the story." You nod, urging her. "She's hooking up with both of them."
You gasp. Oh my god, you cannot wait for Felix to get back so you can reiterate every detail of this. "Really?" Daphne giggles, nodding her head. "How do you know?"
"Okay," she crosses her legs, "So, I was at this ba--"
"Hey, Daphne," the voice is low and clumsy, over extending the second half of Daphne's name. Daphne looks up in time to see a guy sit on the couch's cushioned arm. "Who's your friend?"
Daphne throws you an apologetic look before turning back to the stranger. "Hi, John." She then introduces the two of you politely, presenting you as a friend from her intro to western lit class and John as someone from her econ class.
John doesn't even attempt to hide the fact that he's looking you over. You're not sure if it's the slightly glazed over quality to his eyes or his lack of shame gets to you. All you know is that some instinct tells you to be wary.
He tries your name on his lips, slurring slightly. "Why've I never seen you around?"
"Oh, I don't know," you try, tone much more sober than it was a moment ago, "I'm around, I guess. Here and there."
It's not your best small talk, but the only part of you that seems to be clinging to sobriety doesn't feel right. He's friends with Daphne, you tell yourself, you have no reason to believe he has bad intentions just because seems like he's had too much of whatever he's been having tonight.
John laughs, like your words were some obscure joke that he wants you to know he decoded. "So what do you do when you're not getting out?" He angles himself towards you, disregarding Daphne entirely. "I'm having a hard time picturing you in a library."
It's almost ironic enough to get you to laugh. John sees you here, he sees how you're dressed, and who you're with and just assumes that this is your regular state. And while there's nothing wrong with being the party girl type (some of your favorite people are that kind of person), it's just not who you are every night of the week.
"Actually, John," Daphne interjects, "She's really smart, like basically certified genius smart." You throw her a not so subtle look that says you feel like she's exaggerating. "What? I said basically." You don't look like you agree, "C'mon, even Dr. Alvero's said it, and he can't stand anyone."
"Really?" John moves to stand. "Dr. Alvero. His class is bloody murder." He takes a step towards you. "Maybe you could help me study sometime." You're too aware of the length of your dress, of your legs. "I'd pay you for your time."
There's something about the way he tacks on the reference to finances, an implication that burrows beneath your skin. That's the worst part of Oxford's elite, they assume that if you don't run in the same circles...that if you don't come from generational money, you have nothing. That you're in a position to bend to their every whim for what they consider petty cash.
"John," Daphne tries, voice hard.
"What?" John takes another step forward. "I said I'd pay her."
Indignance and nerves bond uncomfortably in the pit of your stomach. As much as you want to tell him off, the way he's looking at you leaves you frozen, and it's not like the two of you are in a private area. You don't want to be labeled as a hysterical drunk.
"Sweetheart." Felix is within reach.
You turn your head instinctually. He's less than a foot from the couch, holding a solo cup. Despite directly addressing you, Felix's attention is fully focused on John, who seems to have finally remembered the concept of personal space.
Felix walks past him without a second glance before sitting next to you. It's a squeeze, Felix's knee pressing into yours. "They ran out of cups, so I thought we could share." Felix extends his arm slightly, gesturing to his drink. "Have some."
You lift a hand to reach for the cup, but Felix shifts before you can actually attempt to take it. Confusion has you dropping your hand back to your lap. You don't get where he's going with this until he gently tilts the cup in a silent question. You nod.
Felix brings the drink to your lips, gently tilting the cup until its contents are down your throat. The alcohol burns slightly, but not overbearingly so, and the flavor is familiar. Your favorite drink.
He pulls the cup away, a drop of liquid sliding down the corner of your mouth. Felix's thumb wipes it away before it can reach your chin. He then brings his still damp thumb towards his mouth to clean it.
Heat roots itself in your chest and crawls up your neck. All of your discomfort, all of your worry from before feels far and abstract until Felix asks, "So, who's your friend?"
"Oh, uh--this is Daphne's friend, John."
Daphne nods, leaning forward to join your conversation, "Yeah, I know him from my econ class."
"Yeah, good to finally meet you, man. " Felix finally looks back at John. "I think my step-mother's friends with your mum."
Felix places an arm against the back of the couch, giving you space to relax against his side. A more sober you would have thought twice about giving in so quickly, but you're starting to feel light again. "Uh--Cindy Marin."
"Right!" John exhales, relieved, "Right."
Felix nods once before turning his attention back to you. "You ready to get out of here?" There's an assuredness in the way he asks the question that makes it seem like there's nothing of value left at a party that hasn't at all since he sat down. You nod. Felix leans towards you so that he can better look over your shoulder. "See you around, Daphne."
"Yeah, see you."
Felix gets up, immediately stealing the warmth and comfort he'd been providing while next to you. Something that you only very minorly resent him for. He offers you his hand as you stand, and that makes up for most of it.
You turn your head to say goodbye to Daphne. Now that Felix isn't looking, she grins at you before mouthing: that was hot.
You roll your eyes, hoping your feigned irritation is enough to cover any signs of being flustered. Especially when Felix pulls an arm around your shoulders.
"Bye, John," he mumbles, "Congratulate your step-mum for me, yeah?"
Felix guides you out of the party. Once the two of you are exposed to the cool, night air, Felix lets go of you. There's a stiffness to his release that gets to you.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a box of cigarettes.
"Can I?" Your voice is smaller than you thought it'd be.
Felix pauses, thinking through your request before handing you the box. You smile as Felix leans towards you. You don't smoke--with the exception of an occasional drag from one of Felix's cigarettes--but you like lighting them for him.
You pull one from the box and place it between his parted lips. He hands you his lighter next. You spark it to life, bringing the flame to the cigarette's end. Felix takes a deep breath, letting the smoke fill his lungs before exhaling. He doesn't attempt to take your hand or place an arm around you again.
"Are you--" You're not even sure how to word it, "...Okay?"
He takes the cigarette between two fingers as he breathes out. "Fine." Felix inhales another drag. "Just didn't love the way that guy talked to you."
"If it helps, neither did I."
Felix glances over at you, eyebrows pulling together. "Then it's a good thing your best friend was there."
You roll your eyes fondly, fighting a grin, "You're always a good thing."
He looks down, his fingers brush against yours. You intertwine them, pulling his palm against yours. "Someone loves me."
You attempt to glare at him, but the look feels too sickeningly fond to come off as menacing. "Don't start."
His smile broadens. He squeezes your hand, thumb brushing against your knuckles. "Want to stay over tonight?"
"Yeah." You grin, body subconsciously leaning against his a little more. "Are you tired?"
Felix eyes you with exaggerated skepticism, "Why?"
"Wanted to know if you were in the mood to read to me tonight."
He smiles, angling his head to press a kiss against the top of your head. "Anything you want, lovie."
----
felix: oh my god,, i can't believe people treat you like that!! maybe you should borrow my last name for a little, just so that they leave you alone
taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains
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star-girl69 · 4 months
Note
i think aphrodite kid reader x clarisse is simply just better??? like the trope is just superior??? like, we have clarisse who is tough, and mean and one of the strongest people at camp, then we have reader who is kind and compassionate and really doesn’t care all that much about fighting. so naturally, clarisse is super protective and treats reader like a princess?? how could people dislike it 😔😔
no exactly and i actually must write about this - basically this is just all about the little things clarisse does for her perfect princess angel daughter of aphrodite gf (me!!!!!!)
okay as payment for my absence please accept some shitty headcanons I LOVE YOU ALL BYEEEE
she’s just always DOING THINGS FOR YOU
she’s so perceptive and she always knows exactly what you want and need even if you don’t know it yourself
like if you like wearing high heels one) clarisse genuinely wonders what is wrong w you
she sees no practicality in them bc there isn’t lol
but also she’s like omg???? MY GF feels safe enough around me to wear shoes she can’t run in???? WHAT JOY!!!!!!!!!
and you’ll come back to your cabin being all ugh omg my feet hurt so bad laying on the bed and putting your feet UP
and clarisse is like “well i could have told you that”
excuse me????
“don’t get me wrong baby you look gorgeous and i love you wearing heels but it’s your funeral”
“DIE”
she just laughs and takes your shoes off
she’ll continue to bully you as she’s literally massaging your feet like ok girl yeah we see you
clarisse is also a MENACE about making sure you eat
“did you eat today?”
“babe you SAW me at lunch”
“just making sure….”
you’re just so kind and amazing and clarisse loves you so much but you are not the best at fighting!
she is constantly stressed when you’re not by her side
bc no one loves you like her who will protect you 💔💔💔💔
when someone takes advantage of you she gets so PISSED OFF
bc it’s not like someone is beating you up it’ll be like someone is using you as their personal therapist or smth and you’re just like “pls go speak to an actual professional wtf 😭😭😭”
and she’s so pissed off bc WHY IS THIS BITCH PSYCHOLOGICALLY AND EMOTIONALLY TORTURING HER GIRL??????
she’s not afraid to beat people up for you and actually enjoys it!
anyways, clarisse is also a koala bear
and an emotionally stunted caveman
she’s not good with her words so these actions are all she has to show you that she loves you
idk if y’all have noticed but clar rarely saying ily to y/n bc it’s my personal headcanon that she has such a hard time saying those words. she shows you she loves you but for some reason it’s just so hard to get the words out. (…BC SHE IS AN EMOTIONALLY STUNTED CAVEMAN)
so she quickly adapts to do all these little things
if you’re walking down a flight of stairs trust she is holding your hand
QUEEN of opening jars for you
if you’re not feeling well or you’re tired or just feeling lazy she’ll bully someone into doing your chores for you
also this bitch is NOT afraid to stand up for you and make sure you get what you deserve.
like that one meme
“UM… she said NO PICKLES… you fucking dumbasses…”
“CLARISSE 😭😭😭”
also like in “better than revenge” she loves to watch you do your makeup
finds it so fascinating that you can only get PRETTIER
like she’s okay at makeup but you can do that shit perfectly like standing on your head
you make it seem so effortless
she’s not a HUGE makeup girly but sometimes she’ll let you just go crazy
so you can sit on top of her….. that one sapphic meme yes…..
also she’s constantly bragging about you
“yeah… i have the prettiest gf in camp… y’all are just losers what can i say”
ofc if anyone were to agree w her she would go insane
“yeah y/n is so pretty”
“um ok yeah you don’t have to say it i say it enough….”
even if one of your siblings gives you a compliment she’s like HOLD THE FUCK ON- then she remembers THATS YOUR SIBLING ITS OK and she’s like oh this is so embarrassing.
will she stop? no ofc not
she’s constantly telling you how pretty you are. beautiful. gorgeous. exquisite. all the words
loves kissing you all over
KISSES YOUR HAND 🤭🤭
anyways going back to the clarisse koala bear agenda that got away from me
she’s just always touching you
hand on the small of your hand guiding you somewhere
hand around your waist
SITTING IN HER LAP AT CAMPFIRES
no matter what type of hair you have she’s obsessed w it. if you have pin straight hair she’s so obsessed w the fact that you don’t need a huge curl routine like her, finds it fascinating
if you do have curls she loves doing a curl routine together
whatever whatever type of hair you have she’s obsessed with it and will wash it for you if you want
so soft and lovingly like a more of a scalp massage than a hair washing
will brush your hair for you, braid it for you, anything you like just OBSESSED
she loves when you like sit on top of a picnic table and then she gets to sit in between your legs on the bench thinks it’s so so fun and so so silly
she LOVESSSSS sleeping w you OBVI.
on top of you, you on top of her, she’s a koala bear. like entirely wrapped around you
partially bc she is as aforementioned a koala bear and partly bc she is overprotective even in her sleep
if you move in the middle of the night even just a little bit
she’s a super light sleeper i feel like
always on the guard fr ✊
a little bit better when you’re there tho
so if you move in the middle of the night she’ll just like caress your hair and kiss your cheek and try to shush you back to sleep
like bitch you’re still asleep have you never heard of ADJUSTING? MOVING? SHIFTING?
hope you’re not one of those people who has to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night bc with clarisse that will stop
you can’t abandon her even for 2 minutes even for basic bodily functions like you just can’t it’s so inconsiderate to her… 💔
taglist:
@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish @rebecca37 @saltair-and-palemoonlight @ace-spades-1
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baeshijima · 1 year
Text
— one more time
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jing yuan has always considered himself to be a patient man, never failing to have a plan in mind and out of sight for unforeseeable circumstances. when it comes to matters involving you, however, he finds that he never has the time to think; not when he acts quicker than he can process.
CONTAINS : gn!reader, 1k wc, fluff, kissing, very much pining jing yuan
A/N : holds this man gently as i stare at him doing his idles with big wide eyes and tears rolling down my cheeks (also yes this is me using the "idk how to kiss" "then i will teach u" trope as an excuse to write a kissing jing yuan fic bc i am delusional and proud🐥)
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when jing yuan was reciting his usual pep-talk as he made his way to your decided meet-up spot (which included, but was not limited to: stay calm, cool, and composed— the triple-c, if you will — and don't make a fool of yourself, jing yuan), he figured the cosy picnic (date) arrangement would go smoothly and without a hitch. you would be there bathed in the artificial sunlight, fingers threading through blades of grass and then you would turn at the rhythm of his footsteps, that signature grin of yours on full display as he would attempt to calm his thunderous heart from spilling saccharine confessions accumulated over the last few centuries.
like always.
but very much unlike now, it seems.
in place of the predicted events he'd conjured up beforehand, the words “i don't know how to kiss” welcome him instead. (he just barely catches himself before the picnic basket in his grip goes tumbling across the grass.)
“...what?”
“right?” you huff, seated on the grass with your arms supporting your weight while bathed in the artificial sunlight of the luofu. “i've lived for this long, and yet i have never kissed anyone! wait, or maybe it's because no one wants to kiss me... am i that unkissable?”
“no!” is the immediate rebuttal which springs forth to the tip of his tongue, but he just barely catches himself. he's planned thousands, probably millions, of ways in which he could confess to you, but the timing has never been quite right. that, or the times where he was about to confess were interrupted; sometimes by some last minute calls, other times where he just misses the timing, but usually by yanqing unceremoniously barging in between you.
this time isn't any different either, because it is simply not quite right. there's something — something imperceptible yet obvious in the back of his mind, giving him the go-ahead on the perfect time to bleed nothing but the pure, unadulterated adoration you've inflicted upon him.
this time isn't any different either, but his mind goes blank, a clarity he has never felt before driving his senses.
“i'll teach you.”
it's a sudden offer, one he doesn't really know where he got the confidence to offer it from, and yet something about your stunned expression and his unusually calm heart seems... right.
“...you know how to kiss?”
“i know more than you do,” he counters. a triumphant grin tugs the corners of his lips when your mouth instantly clams shut at his words.
he waits for your response with baited breath. will you agree? will you refuse his, painfully obvious, advance? oh god what should he do if you say no? play it off as a joke? tease you for considering it? walk away in shame and cry about it—?
“alright then,” you say, and he blinks once, twice. “it's not like i have anything to lose.”
...is this a dream?
apparently not, as he now finds himself seated in front of you with the artificial sunlight doing little to help fend off the heat blooming along his skin. your eyes are closed with your body leaning towards him in baited anticipation, but his gaze hones in on the clench-unclench of your fists and your stiff posture.
unable to contain himself, he chuckles, “someone's a little tense.”
“ugh, cut me some slack! you're my first, so of course i'm nervous.”
your first. he's your first. yours. he's yours.
it's almost like a mantra the way he repeats your words (as well as varying renditions of them), one which does little to keep his waning self-restraint intact.
with a sharp inhale, he cradles your chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting your head slightly to align better with his. if this were him any other day, he would have merely brushed this moment off as another one of his fantasies; an untouchable perception of what he wishes could be his.
this is not any other day, however, as jing yuan is hyper-aware of your light breaths fanning against his lips, the faint brush of his nose against yours, and your familiar scent which curls into him.
you, you, you. you are all he feels, all he can think of, even more so when he finally pushes forward into your awaiting silence and slots his lips against yours. it's a perfect fit, he thinks in what little room he allows for thought when preoccupied with your overflowing warmth and the taste of you on his tongue and the sheer euphoria which bubbles up when you hold onto him in response to his hands sliding up to cup your cheeks and holding you close.
he wonders if you can feel his centuries' worth of repressed affection from this exchange — if you can feel the desperation coursing through his veins as he leans into your touch. he already knows it's impossible though, for his love runs far too deep to be conveyed in just one singular moment.
“did you get that?” there's an ache in his heart when you part for air, but it's quickly forgotten when you blindly chase after him.
“one more time,” you whisper against his lips, his heart surging up his throat at your half-dazed eyes and tightening grip on his clothes. “i think you need to show me one more time.”
his waning self-restraint snaps.
“look at me,” he whispers back, voice hoarse with pent-up desire. his hands tilt your head up, guiding your gaze to align with his once more. before you can let a word slip through it's smothered, his lips crashing onto yours in an instant as he finds himself more determined than ever to leave you breathless with his adoration and have you focus solely on him.
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if you enjoyed this, then reblogs with/or comments are greatly appreciated !! <33
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enhastolemyheart · 4 months
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enha + boyfriend moments ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
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pairing non idol!enha x fem!reader warnings none genre fluff est. relationship nets @k-films @kflixnet
a/n I wanted to try something different this time. sorry i went mia for so long :(( i decided to do something for all of enha boys and i hope u enjoy!! also i totally forgot abt jungwon's allergies while writing his part so less jus pretend he is not allergic to cats :((
banners by @cafekitsune
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LEE HEESEUNG ツ
i feel like heeseung would always and i mean ALWAYS trap you between himself and whatever other object is there near you. I honestly feel he loves to see you flustered and ears all burning red just from a mere touch as he very smoothly traps you between his arms, nowhere to escape. like, the look on your face is such a ego booster and this little "moment" has to happen at least once a day. It is just a heeseung coded move and it gets you worked up every single time.
"hee, I just had to go get groceries real quick, can you let me go?" You try to excuse yourself from his hold as you were trapped between the counter and his arms. "no baby," he bends to meet your eye level, "you left without giving me a kiss." he moves in so close you think you'll combust. "cmon baby, make it up to me."
more under the cut!
PARK JONGSEONG ツ
we all know Jay's love language is acts of service and maybe even gift giving. cmon, its obvious that jay is the kind of person to always buckle your seatbelt for you, open any kind of door for you, cook meals that remind you of your culture and hometown, likee he is literally the sweetest boyfriend ever. he's perfect. he is also the type to always have a belonging of your in his bag whenever you both are outside. like that is so jay coded.
your day started with a quick breakfast at a cafe, and then your extravaganza at the amusement park. You and jay went through it all, the amazing food, the thrilling rides. he even held your hand the whole through the roller coaster to help you conquer your fear. he was there every step of the way and you both had so much fun. the sun had started setting and so you both get seated at a highly reviewed restaurant in the park for dinner. Just as the food came, you wanted to tie your hair up, feeling scorching due the humid air and all that walking you did. noticing you were having trouble finding your tie, Jay casually puts his wrist closer to you where a hair tie was sitting. "here, i kept an extra."
SIM JAEYUN ツ
jake is definitely the type of boyfriend to take you out on night drives. windows rolled down, music blasting in the air, one hand on the wheel and the other intertwined with yours. you couldn't have spent your night with jake in any other way. he loves you with all his heart and i feel like one way of showing it is through songs, so what's better than listening to playlist he made for when he thought of you, while riding around the city at its most quiet hour?
"baby, i just added some new songs to the playlist." he confesses, giving your knuckles a sweet kiss before bringing it back onto your lap. "yeah? lemme hear it jakey." he giggles as he presses play "i love you, my girl." he looks at you the whole time you were listening, together on a blanket as you indulge the beautiful night sky.
PARK SUNGHOON ツ
one thing that sunghoon loves but doesn't want to admit is waking up in your arms. quite literally, he loves falling asleep on your chest with your hand massaging his back and hair. ugh, he'd just melt to sleep then and there itself. don't get him wrong, he absolutely loves seeing you under his arms first thing in the morning. but, something about being in your embrace where he can be vulnerable and himself is just far much better. he absolutely love your sweet and hoarse voice as you greet him a good morning and then proceed to pepper his precious face with kisses to start of the day right. he feel so much better with you and your presence.
the little kisses being left on the top of sunghoon's hair wakes him up. he looks up at you from his place, hair all strewn, arms wrapped around your midriff while head tucked inside the crook of your neck. you giggle softly at his sleepy smile before running a hand through his hair, "good morning, sleeping beauty." he huff as you see the evident pink on his cheeks. "good morning" comes out muffles due to how close his mouth is to your skin, placing gentle kisses and squeezing your waist. he looks up at you through his eyelashes, giving you a full, sweet good morning kiss and murmuring that he wants to stay five more minutes in bed.
KIM SUNOO ツ
this is such a sunoo coded thing. but, he absolutely LOVES doing masks and manicures with you. like, imagine just sitting on your bed, face masks on and gossiping about anything and everything while painting each others' nails. sunoo is the type of boyfriend in whom you'll find a best friend. like, he is always the first you would go to share news and stuff and vice versa.
"and so because of niki, we got the rest of the day off!" sunoo exclaimed finishing the mini story of a recently occurred event. you couldn't help but laugh at the irony of the story. minutes pass, and now he is painting your nails this time, both of you rocking a baby pink color. you both end up binging 2000s rom-coms before dozing off sleeping soundly in each others' arms.
YANG JUNGWON ツ
ugh. jungwon is such a soft boyfie. he is always by your side helping/accompanying you to anything and everything. jungwon is very kind and caring and takes care with so much love, he loves you more than himself. he is the type to always greet you with warm hugs and cheek kisses. hand holding when going on a stroll outside no matter the time of day. he is also very BIG on words of affirmation. he is always telling he loves you and he makes sure you know.
"omg! won, look!" you point at the stray cat that was situated under a tree near the trail of the pretty park you both are at. he looks at it with wide eyes before slowly moving towards the cat, wanting to greet it. once the ginger cat understands that you both mean no harm, it starts to get close with jungwon rubbing up against his leg. "it is so cute won, it looks just like you!" you exclaim resulting in a chuckle from your boyfriend. he slowly picks up the cat, bringing its face close to his before turning to you. "see baby, you can't tell the difference between me and the cat, can you?" you chuckle softly kissing his cheek. you both decide to take the cat to a vet and then give it some food and shelter for the night.
NISHIMURA RIKI ツ
this kid. as much as playful he is, he is as equal in being sincere and true to himself and your relationship. he loves to tease you. i think quality time is one of his ways of loving you, so i can def see you both out on adventurous dates together. whether it be basketball dates, going to an amusement park together, spending time with each other at 4 am having ice cream, anything and everything you do, it's always filled with love and laughter that make up wonderful memories.
"come on baby, try and take it from me." niki exclaimes as yet again steals the basketball from your hold dribbling slowly towards the basket. "ugh, you and your damn long legs." you mumur. he laugh at your comment before stopping in front of you. he is so close that you know you are going to turn red soon if he doesn't back up. "here." he puts the ball in front of you, and you have to declare yourself stupid because inches before you can get the ball, he raises his arms, putting the ball way out of your hold. "riki! not fair." you out as you try and jump to get the ball. Niki simply laughs at your silly attempts. "you are so cute, you know that?" he bends to meet your eye level, placing a chaste kiss on your lips. "i love you" knowing the effect you had on him, you managed to snatch the ball before running away and yelling, "i love you too dork!" niki smirks at your escape before chasing after you.
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a/n. tysm for reading!! i hope u liked it! this was not proofread!!
perm taglist: @jak-ey ; @snoowhore ; @hsgwrld ; @seungiesluv ; @1-800shutthefuckup ; @heeseungshim (send an ask to be added)
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bouncybongfairy · 3 months
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First off, I love your writing and I can’t get enough really. I’ve been obsessed with your atla stuff and I was wondering if you’d be down to write for Sokka. Any smut really but like something like, you’re traveling with the gaang and there’s tons of tension with him. If not no hard feelings whatsoever, just a suggestion.
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Do You?
Sokka x Fem Reader Smut
Summary: There's been a lot of tension between you and Sokka for the past couple of weeks. After and heated argument, Anng send both of you to get some air. Sokka finds you in a tavern after a couple of drinks and both your feelings come to the surface.
Word Count: 1.0k+
TW: Smut
<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
Appa had been sick for the past couple days, meaning you guys were basically stranded until he was better. It didn’t help that you and Sokka had been going at it lately. You weren’t really sure why but everything he did drove you crazy. Anng paired the two of you up to skin the fish for tonight's dinner. The entire time he was criticizing you about how you were descaling it. Bragging about back home he could prepare a fish faster than anyone.
“Oh so since you’re the best and can do it ‘fAsTeR tHaN aNyOnE’ you can do this on your own,” you said, standing up and wiping your hands. 
“Sloppy help is better than no help,” he huffed. 
“Whatever, I'll go help Katara,” you said. 
“Wait no- okay I’ll chill with the critiques. Let me teach you,” he said, reaching his hand out. 
Without saying anything, you walked back over and sat on your knees. He sat behind you, his knees on the outside of your hips and thighs. Giving you the knife and securing your grip with his own. Holding onto the outsides of your hands as he instructed. As he talked, you could feel his breath against the back of your neck. Due to him being so close to your ear, he lowered his voice. Speaking with a soft and gentle tone, making your ears burn slightly. You began unknowingly letting yourself enjoy this. The way you could feel his chest rising and falling against your back. Liking the feeling of his body against yours and his smell engulfing your nose. 
“See,even you can do it!” he said in an extremely patronizing way. 
“Fuck off,” you said, feeling overwhelmed by how much you were enjoying his touch. Also not appreciating his poking fun at you even more. 
“Ugh you’re exhausting, even when I try being nice you push me away. Can't you see that I like -ahem- that I’m like, trying to make an effort!” he said, cheeks flushing red. 
“That’s it! I’m tired of hearing the two bickering none stop. Both of you need space from each other! Sokka you go that way, y/n you go that way. I don’t care what you do, but don’t come back until you figure out why both of you are so insufferable!” Anng yelled, slamming his glider onto the ground. 
The two of you made intense eye contact before walking away. Luckily for you, he sent you in the direction of a local market in the village. The walk gave you a lot of time to think; when he was helping you skin the fish, it felt like he had underlying feelings. Like he was purposely finding an excuse to be close to you. The tone in his voice was different, you never heard him talk like that to anyone else.​​ The way he slid his hands along your arms before grabbing your hands. It was becoming evident that the frustration and tension you’ve been feeling wasn’t caused by anger. 
You finally reached a tavern, it wasn’t much but it was cozy. Drunk men singing and goofing off with each other. A group of women gossiping with each other adjacent to a group of men playing Pai Sho. Immediately feeling out of place, you walk up to the barmaid and ask for whatever she recommended. Which ended up being some type of fermented wine. One of the young men comes up to you, trying to engage in conversation. 
“Are you new to town? I’ve been coming here for a couple years but I've never seen you,” he says, smiling while holding his drink. 
“Oh um, yeah I’m just staying in town for a couple days,” you explain, finishing off your drink and ordering another one. 
“Aww that’s a shame, I bet I could convince you to stay for a little longer,” he said, which made you giggle. 
You were now polishing off your third drink, watching the game. Enjoying the music, making conversation with the other patrons. Dancing with the group of young women from earlier. You didn’t realize Sokka was watching you from the wooden doors. Eventually the young gentlemen who you were speaking with earlier, starts to dance with you. Sokka was visibly getting more irritated, watching his hand travel down your back. Once the guy wrapped his arms around you, pressing himself against you from behind, he couldn’t control himself. Stomping over and pulling you out of the dude's grip. Your heart sank once your eyes fell onto him. Like you’d been caught doing something wrong, looking you up and down with such disappointment.
“We're leaving,” Sokka growled, grabbing you by the upper arm gently. 
“Does she want to leave with you,” the guy asked. 
“Do you?” Sokka asked, looking down at you. Feeling quite tipsy it made you nervous to speak. Like if you opened your mouth, only stupidness would come out. He was looking at you with such intensity and jealousy, you nodded your head in agreement. Leading you out of the building, into an alley behind the building. Giving you two some privacy while waiting for him to talk. 
“Are you mad?” you asked. 
“I feel like I've dropped all the hits I can. I don’t know if this is like… your way of making me just admit it but I like you. If you keep pushing me away every time I come onto you then I just won’t anymore. I can’t take it,” he said, walking over to the river bank. Letting his hair free from its pony tail out of frustration. Falling onto his knees and splashing some cool water onto his face. Seeing how disappointed he was in your actions made you feel stupid. Like you were blind to all his advances and playful teasing and it was too late to let your feelings known. However, you were drunk enough to at least give it a shot. Walking over to him and joining where he sat in the grass. 
“I think I was just nervous -hiccup- to tell you how I felt. Then because I was holding all my feelings inside, I became standoffish. I’m sorry,” you said, brushing the partially wet hair off his face before continuing, “Please don’t think I’m only saying this because I drank. Drunk thoughts are sober words… or is it sober words are drunk thoughts,” you begin making him laugh. 
“Are you gonna make me ask for a kiss?” you asked, he took your offer and smashed his lips against yours. 
Lips melting together as you straddle his lap. He sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, running his tongue over it. Moaning as you started grinding down on his dick print. The alcohol in your system was making you more ballsy, desperately grinding yourself against him. Enjoying the friction against your clit. Sokka’s mouth hung open as bucked his hips up. Gripping your hips tightly, helping work you on him. He was sitting up, back against the back wall of the tavern. You were holding his face in your hands, moaning and panting against his lips. Pressing his forehead against your chest as he started to cum. His hips spasming from underneath, you could feel his length spasm against your core, sending you into climax. Time slowed while fire was pooling in your lower abdomen and you frantically rubbed yourself against him. Letting your head fall towards, letting him support your weight while cooling down. Both of you walking hand and hand, his giving you a piggy back ride once you became too tired. 
“Great, see sometimes a little space does people good. Glad you guys worked it out,” Anng said as the two of you walked to separate tents. 
“Oh trust me, we really worked through our problems,” Sokka remarked before everyone turned in.
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Text
⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ So American (Grecian)
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content: jason grace x greek demigod! reader warning: language, i think authors note: AHHHH THIS HAS BEEN LIVING RENT FREE IN MY MIND FOR LIKE A WEEK AUDHIUFBIEUFBEIUR IVE BEEN WANTING TO WRITE THIS FOR SO SO LONG UGH I LOVE LOVE LOVE IT OLIVIA RODRIGO YOU ATE GIRL also tbh its kinda short
everytime someone asked jason grace about his girlfriend, that first words that always left his mouth were, "she's so greek!"
which was very true. every you couldn't deny it. jason had once seen you win a fight through biting your enemies forearms which caused them to drop their sword, a tactic that had his roman brain struggling to compute. you were unpredictable, ever changing, and never still. and jason loved every second of it. it was a nice change of pace for him, sneaking out to prank other campers and watching you fight in ways he never would have thought to.
the next thing that would always fall from his mouth as a blush coated his cheeks was how much he loved it when you wore his clothes.
you had a bad habit of thinking every day was a bright summers day. even as fall was creeping around the corner, you'd tug on your denim shorts and a tank top that would have jason drooling. but as you shamelessly shivered from the cold breezes that, despite jason's best efforts, didn't stop coming, jason'd tug his sweater off and gesture for you to let him put it on for you. with chattering teeth and a beaming smile, you'd let him gently tug the sweater over your head and slid your arms through the sleeves that were far too long for you. and you'd snuggle into his side and he'd blush, admiring the way you looked better completely drowning in his sweater than with your tits on display for him. but, then he'd be thinking about your tits again, and decided that's the better view, like any sane man.
somewhere in his ramblings about you to the poor person who asked, jason would find a way to mention that you're the funniest person he's ever met. and he knows leo. and percy. and, still, you give them both a run for your money.
"man, this is embarrassing, we can't keep meeting like this," you once winced as you walked up to jason, your hands shoved into your pockets and rocking on the heels of your feet. jason gave you a fond look, but was slightly confused.
"what, princess?"
"one of us is gonna fall in love with each other if we keep meeting like this," you sighed, over exaggeratedly, trying to keep your smirk off your lips. jason breathed out a laugh, reach forwards and setting his hands against your hips.
"too late."
"you'll never take me alive! unhand me, good sir!" you cried, fighting against his hold. jason laughed as he wrapped his arms around your wiggling body. somehow, you managed to escape his hold and went running away, shooting a beaming smile over your shoulder as your hair went blowing all about.
"get back here! you owe me a kiss!" jason called after you, quickly running to catch up with you. you squealed, turning around to run faster.
"help! crazy roman boy after me! he's gonna kiss me, oh no!"
you were everything jason needed - his balance, kept him on his toes. he could talk about you for hours, but at some point, the poor victim of his lovesick rambles would make up some excuse and scamper away. he'd sigh at the lack of opportunity to keep talking about you before going off to find you, the apple of his eye and the object of his affections. he'd find you, talking to some new camper in the strawberry fields. and he could tell you were talking about something you loved from the overexaggerated movements of your hands and your beaming smile to match the gleam in your eyes. he moved a little closer, eager to hear what was making his girl so happy.
"and he's so so roman!! i swear to the gods, he marches to go to the bathroom. it's adorable, truly. he's such a gentleman, insists on opening my doors and grabbing me food and all of that. and the way he kisses me is just divine. otherworldly, i swear. i could talk about him for hours. my roman empire on a level like never before!!" you giggled with the girl, getting lost in your thoughts for a few seconds as you thought about your boyfriend.
"ugh, i want a boyfriend like that," the girl huffed and you set a comforting hand on her knee across for you with a soft smile.
"you'll find one. c'mon, you're so pretty!! trust me, i never thought i'd find a boy like jason. but, gods, im gonna marry him if he keeps this shit up," you added and jason felt his heart hammer against his chest, thudding so loud he was surprised you didn't hear it. because he knew he wanted to marry you too.
"i hope youre talking about me and not some other roman named jason," jason finally spoke as he tried to calm his racing heart, your eyes darting to him with a smile you saved only for your boy, which only made his heart race more.
"oh, this is my side piece, the other jason i was telling you about. the not-so-cute one," you joked with the girl across from you, who giggled into her hand. jason rolled his eyes, scooping you up into his arms as you squealed to get out of his hold.
"youre breaking my heart here, baby," he pouted and you laughed as he put you back on the ground, instantly wrapping your arms around his.
"awwww, my poor boy, lemme make it up to you," you mused, sliding your hand to his cheek before pulling his lips down to meet yours. jason hands found a home against your waist, fiddling with the hem of your shirt and sliding a few digits under to press against your skin.
"better?" you asked in a whisper as you parted and jason beamed a soft smile as he nudged his nose against your gently.
"perfect, even," he murmured before pulling your lips back to his. he could feel you smile into the kiss, which was something that happened a lot. you were just a smiley girl, his smiley girl.
"you're the only roman guy for me, ya know," you hummed once you parted again, looking up at jason with all the admiration you could muster.
"and you're the only greek girl for me," he replied, pressing a quick peek to your lips with a smile that rivaled apollo's sun.
when a crazy greek girl falls for her perfect roman boy, you get a love story that will stand the test of time. simply because they will yap the other into legend.
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jakexneytiri · 1 year
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Hi, I can request a family life with husband! neteyam x reader, after 2 movies, please long if you agree
hii!!
you sure can! this was so cute to write and i’m in love with dad!neteyam. i hope this is what you had in mind, anon!<3
forever & always
⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰
it’s been ten years since you and your husband first mated. neteyam was madly in love with you, that love only growing stronger over the years. he could never get enough of you, never keep his hands off of you. you have four children to prove it, and you’re pregnant with your fifth.
neteyam arranged an entire ceremony to be held tonight for your anniversary. the clan spent the entire day preparing, harvesting fruits, hanging bioluminescent plants for light, and gathering old twigs and dead plants to be used for the main fire.
in your hut, things were absolute chaos. you were waiting for neteyam to return home, he had “a few more things to set up” for the party. your children couldn’t contain themselves, excitedly running around your shared hut readying themselves for the evening.
your oldest, tsantu, you hardly ever had to worry about. he was very independent, and rarely asked for your assistance. he was all ready for the ceremony, wearing his special arm cuff he crafted, with neteyam’s help.
“mom, do you need help?”
“would you please help your brother with his necklace? that would be a big help.” you place a kiss on the top of his head, as he nods and goes to help his brother.
your second born, se’ayl, was calm and reserved like her older brother. however, she was sassy from time to time, with both you and neteyam. she definitely picked up the habit from aunt kiri, who she adored.
“se’ayl? do you have your feathers on yet?” you ask, glancing over at her.
“ugh, do i have to wear those?” she groans, taking a deep breath in just to sigh it out.
“yes, flower. your father wants everyone to wear them tonight. aunty kiri will be wearing hers, too.” you say in an excited tone, hoping it will cheer her up.
“really? she is??” excitement lights up on her face, as she quickly goes to change into them.
your third, txonuk, was your occasionally rebellious child, sometimes outspoken, making neteyam be the bad guy when he needed to be punished, but you loved him nonetheless.
“let’s see your necklace, txonuk!” you say excited, kneeling down to take a look.
he lifts his chin upwards, so you can get a good look at the newly placed necklace.
“what a very handsome young man you are.” you say, as he giggles.
“mama, i’m not a man, i’m just a boy!” he yells, waving his arms around dramatically.
“oh, forgive me! what a very handsome young boy you are.” he wraps his arms around your leg, giggling into it.
“mama! mama!” nima interrupts, holding her new feathers up to your face. “these pwease!”
nima, your youngest, was one of the main reasons you lost sleep at night. she’s very shy around people she doesn’t know, but very comfortable with her siblings. she finds comfort in you and neteyam, to her, you both are her sun and moon. you often find her in the middle of the night curled up in between you and neteyam, from the “bad dreams” she has. (she has bad dreams almost every night. it’s just an excuse to be closer to you both).
“these ones?” you question, holding them up. “they’re very pretty, little love. do you need help putting them on?”
“noooo! i do it!” she giggles as she runs off to the other side of the hut.
just then, the flap to your hut opened, revealing your beloved husband.
“iiiiiiiit’s dad!” neteyam says, causing all four children to burst into a fit of giggles.
“where are my five wonderful children?” he asks, looking around the hut even though they’ve all ran right to his feet, apart from nima.
txonuk gives a confused look to both se’ayl and tsantu. whispering, he asks “five? but, there’s only…” and he begins counting on his fingers. “there’s only 4 of us!”
tsantu shakes his head, whispering back “he’s talking about the baby in momma’s belly, skxawng.”
“hmmmm, one!” neteyam says, placing a kiss to tsantu’s head.
“and there’s two!” kissing the top of se’ayl’s head.
“dad! dad i’m right here!” txonuk says, pointing to himself.
“oh, there’s three!” neteyam chuckles as he places a kiss to txonuk’s head.
“now, where’s my number four?”
nima runs over, her arm stuck in the air from her necklace being on wrong.
“daddy, i’m stuck!” she pouts, her little eyes filling with tears.
neteyam kneels, fixing her necklace and freeing her arm, kissing the top of her head.
“there’s my #4. no need for tears, babygirl. are those new feathers?”
she giggles, and squeals “yes!” before running away.
glancing over to you now, neteyam stands, arms open wide.
“looking for #5?” you question, moving your swollen belly closer to his grasp.
“ah, my #5.” he kisses your belly gently, before snaking his arms around your waist, lips to your ear as he says
“hi, mama. looking beautiful, as always.”
“hi.” you smile, kissing your mate, which earns a collective “ewwwww!” from your children.
you both laugh, as neteyam covers your face in kisses. forehead, cheeks, chin, neck, ears, anywhere he could reach, he’d kiss.
“daddy, that’s GWOSS!” nima shouts, covering her eyes.
“well, good thing aunty kiri, *kiss* uncle lo’ak, *kiss* and aunty tuk tuk *kiss* are waiting outside for you four, *kiss* because i have a loooot more *kiss* kisses for *kiss* mama!” he says, kissing you again, chuckling against your skin.
they squeal and run out of the hut, to be met with their favorite aunts and uncle. you stand in the doorway of your hut, neteyam’ standing behind you as one arm is wrapped around your waist, the other holding the flap to your hut open.
“sooo, are you guys coming with us now or-“ lo’ak asks, just to be cut off by neteyam.
“no. you go ahead, we’ll be there soon.”
kiri takes se’ayl’s hand, while tuk takes nima’s, as they start to head to the celebration. lo’ak takes tsantu’s in one, and txonuk’s in the other.
lo’ak rolls his eyes, muttering “keep it in your loincloth, would ya.”
although he mumbled, neteyam still heard him.
“have you SEEN my mate? how on pandora would i do that?”
lo’ak groans, walking away, yelling “get a room, you two!”
“we’re trying!!” neteyam yells back before closing the flap to your hut.
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ssahotchnerr · 1 year
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No stop because I was just thinking about Aaron coming back from a run (I love him in sportswear ugh) and reader finding him attractive when he's all sweaty and panting and he's like "this?? You like this??"
It's the forearms all over again
a sight for sore eyes
thank you for giving me the excuse to write about this 🤭 minors dni cw; suggestive content, allusions to sex
"you're not serious."
your words caused aaron to stop, halfway to the bathroom with the intention to shower.
he had just returned from his morning run, while you had opted to sleep in. sunlight was streaming into bedroom, the window was opened just a crack. and although a slight breeze would occasionally trail in, you could feel the humidity sticking in the air, which aaron was a clear example of.
your eyes immediately scanned his form, taking notice of the sweaty cowlicks stuck to his forehead, the small pants leaving his mouth, and his attire of athletic wear. his sport shirt was absolutely clinging to his skin and enhancing all of his glory underneath- you could easily see his toned abdomen behind the thin fabric. not to mention, veins were nearly bulging from his forearms. you could already feel a flutter at your core as heat immediately pooled within you, the humidity not to blame.
while he was always irresistible, the sight of his exertion was a whole new level. not to mention, it gave you the welcomed reminder of all the times the two of you were tangled in the sheets together in pure ecstasy.
"what?" aaron breathed out, quirking an eyebrow in confusion. he was still in the midst of catching his breath, his chest heaving up and down.
"what?" you mocked teasingly, as if it should've been obvious. you stretched from your laying position in bed, sitting up on your elbows afterwards, only heightening your current view of him. "you."
"me?"
"yes, you." you let out a heavy sigh, the sides of your mouth tipping up into a smirk as your eyes continued to rake over him. "do you know what you do to me?" your voice came out in a whine.
"really?" amusement was clear in his tone, but he couldn't help but mirror your smirk as well. his hand gestured to the sweat coating him. "you're into this?"
"insanely into this." you scrambled out of bed, eager to get your hands on him. "can't even explain how much."
your fingertips wandered along his torso, allowing you to feel his tight muscles and racing heartbeat. at your touch, aaron's breath hitched in this throat, and you didn't hesitate to press your lips right below his ear.
speaking against his skin and backing him slowly towards the bathroom, you mumbled. "and i intend to take full advantage of it."
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Good evening lovely! You better believe I’m back with more Carlos asks. Could I request a Carlos x driver!reader where they’re just two peas in a pod until Carlos sees her in a dress for the first time and is like oh shit?? I am in love??? If you feel :) hope you’re well, your writing is beautiful as always
Just Friends - Carlos Sainz
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"Hey midget, how you feeling?" Carlos asked, walking into the medical center and locating where you were sat. "A bit sore, but I'll be fine," you told him. You had spun out pretty badly in FP2, but you were fine.
"Good, good. You still up for the gala tonight?" he asked, hoping you'd say you weren't going. It would give him an excuse not to go too, and he really didn't want to. He always found these events boring.
"Yeah, of course. I'm not missing my first gala," you laughed, knowing he didn't want to go. You were quite excited though, because you'd get to show a classier, more elegant side of you that people didn't get to see. 
"There's a lot of people outside asking to see you. The interviewers want to make sure you're not dead," he laughed, offering a hand to help you off of your chair. The doctor had said you were free to go, but you just had to take it easy and you weren't driving in FP3 tomorrow.
"You make it sound like they actually care about me," you scoffed, leaning into him as you slowly made your way out of the medical centre. The minute you stepped out of the door, you were bombarded with cameras and questions. 
"Y/N! What happened?" one of them yelled as numerous microphones were shoved in your face. "I locked up the rears and spun out, it happens," you shrugged, not wanting to give them anything they could make a story out of. 
"Y/N, are you alright? Can you still race on Sunday?" another one collared as flashes emerged from the back of the crowd. "I won't be driving in FP3, but I'll be in qualifying and the race, just like normal. The car just has front wing damage, so it's all good," you smiled, and you were already bored of being interviewed.
"Thank you," you said, pushing past the crowd and out to the paddock. "I need a coffee," you sighed, and Carlos just chuckled as you hobbled over to the Ferrari motorhome. Flopping down on the couch, personnel came to ask how you were feeling and you were glad to tell them you would be fine. 
"Carlos, go get me a coffee!" You ordered, pointing towards the kitchen. Carlos just scoffed and rolled his eyes at you, sitting down beside you. "No," he flatly declined, running his hands through his hair. 
"Carlos, please," you whined, not wanting to move because of how sore everything felt. 
"Get your own coffee, you might be sore, but you're not useless. Well, you're not completely useless," he chuckled. 
"Ugh, you're the worst friend I could ever have," you told him, pulling yourself slowly off the couch as he laughed at your struggle. 
"Aw, you love me really," he teased, watching as you hobbled over to the kitchen. "Get me one too, yeah?" he asked, and nearly cackled when he heard a 'Fuck off!' come from the kitchen. As you made your coffee, you thought about how much you valued the friendship between you and Carlos. 
He had made the transition into driving for one of the top teams easy, and he was a great role-model for you. You'd never forget how much he had helped you, but you'd never tell him how much he really meant to you. His ego was way too big for that. 
Finally, you had your precious coffee in hand as you spotted Carlos still sat on the couch. "Oh thanks, midget, you're too kind," he said, holding his hand out for you to put the mug in. "Absolutely not, I made this for myself," you said, wobbling back onto the seat.
"No really, you shouldn't have," he continued, taking the mug off you. You're limbs were aching too much to fight back, and you had to watch as Carlos took a big swig of your coffee. "You're a bitch," you playfully spat, whacking him in the arm with all the strength you had left. 
"No, you're a bitch," he jibed, jabbing you in the ribs. It was supposed to be a well-spirited gesture, but it just sent spikes of pain shooting through you. "Carlos, stop it," you told him through gritted teeth, pushing his hand away.
"Shit, sorry, I completely forgot. Are you alright?" he asked, his joking manner completely falling and he became the caring Carlos you got to see every now and then. "Yeah, yeah, just don't do it again. And give me my coffee," you told him, straightening up. 
"Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you. Here," he apologised again, handing you your coffee mug. He felt really bad, even though it was an accident. It was meant in good fun, but he'd hurt you, and he never liked seeing people he cared about in pain.
You finished off your coffee, and slowly tried to stand up as someone was ready to take you back to the hotel. "Hey, take it slow," he said, wrapping an arm around your waist and helping you up. "Thanks," you smiled, walking out of the building as he helped you. 
He took you all the way over to the car, and he heard you wince in pain as you tried clamber in. "Midget, take it easy, I've got you," he affectionately said, lifting you and putting you in the car so you wouldn't have to move all that much.
"Thanks Carlos, I'll see you later," you said, moving your arms out of his way as he leant over you and clicked your seatbelt in place. "No worries, who else likes you enough to look after you?" he teased, still making fun of you, even when he was being nice.
"Funny, Carlos. Real funny," you laughed, closing the door and waving him goodbye as you drove away. He may have teased you, but he really did care about you.
Being around the paddock wasn't all that fun when you weren't there to mess around with, so Carlos just had to keep himself busy until it was his turn to go home. All he could do was go and pester Lando, since he was one of the only other fun people left around.
Meanwhile, you were slowly hobbling up to your hotel room, which happened to be on one of the top floors. Typical. But once you got into your room, you told yourself you weren't allowed to lie on the bed. If you did, there was no chance you had the strength or willpower to get back up.
You figured a shower would be in order, since it might make you a bit less sore. It took longer than expected to peel your clothes off you, and it was a fairly agonising task. You couldn't lift your arms much higher than your shoulders, and bending anything was near on impossible.
You silently spat expletives as you struggled, finally managing to get into the shower. The warm water helped soothe your muscles somewhat, but it still hurt to move. The suds slipped down your body, and you gave up completely when you dropped the soap on the floor. There was no way you were getting it back.
The best you could do was wet your hair, since lifting your arms was undoable, so washing it was out of the question. When you got out of the shower, you wrapped a towel around you and decided to let your hair air dry. Looking in the mirror, you spotted purply-red splotches peppered down your arm, and there were some disappearing past the towel line.
Taking it off, you saw how they spread across your ribs and a few were sprinkled on your hip, only on the side where you made impact with the tyre barrier. Your plan was to wear a dress with the sides cut out, but that didn't seem like a great idea.
Then again, you didn't have anything else that was fit for a gala, since you had had the dress custom made for this exact occasion. You slowly did your makeup, the most unnatural part of it being the red lipstick that matched the dress.
You decorated your ears, neck, wrists and fingers in gold, before shimmying into your dress. The worst part was doing the zip yourself, since you couldn't stretch your arms around to your back. You managed, but you realised you'd be late and the car was already waiting outside. 
You ran out of time to cover up the bruises on your right side, so you thought it was fine to just leave it. Giving yourself a final once over in the mirror, you loved what you saw. Your dress hugged your every curve perfectly, and the gold with red screamed Ferrari. 
After making your way downstairs, you stumbled into the car and headed off for the gala. Carlos, on the other hand, had just arrived. He looked around, and quickly sussed out that you weren't there. "Hey, mate!" Lando said, pulling him in for a quick hug.
"Hey, are you bored already or is that just me?" Carlos chuckled, taking a glass of champagne off a tray from one of the waiters wandering by. "I was bored the minute I stepped in here, how's Y/N? Have you had a chance to talk to her?" Lando asked.
He was right behind you when you spun out, so he saw the impact that you hit the barrier with. "She's fine, just sore. I'm surprised she's even coming tonight, to be honest," he said, sipping away at the golden liquid. 
"She's coming? That's a surprise. I would have taken that as an excuse not to come," Lando said, almost shocked. "So would I, but she is actually really excited, even though I told her how boring they actually are," Carlos laughed, leaning against the wall beside Lando. 
"Speaking of Y/N, here she is," Lando said, nodding over to the grand entrance of the hall for the gala. Carlos turned his head, and his heart stopped beating in his chest. "That's not Y/N," he scoffed, looking as people's eyes all simultaneously wandered over to where you were stood.
Your eyes darted around the place, trying to find Carlos. "It is, Carlos, look at her," Lando nudged him, and he couldn't believe it was you. Seeing you stood there, the whole room's eyes on you, in the most stunning red dress made him feel something he had never felt before.
He couldn't take his eyes off you as you slowly walked, still trying to locate him. Suddenly, your eyes lit up as they landed on Carlos and Lando. You had that classic, confident swagger that you had always had, but tonight, it was paired with this elegance he never had seen before. 
"Hey guys," you smiled, standing with the two of them. Lando greeted you, and Carlos couldn't form words. The way the dress showed off your figure, the way it showed off your skin, the way it transformed you from a racing driver to a lady. He loved it.
"Carlos? You OK?" you asked, placing a hand on his shoulder to try and snap him out of whatever daydream he was having. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he shook his head, as if he were trying to shake some sense into it, "How are you? Did you manage to get any rest?" he asked, needing to know you were getting better.
"Everything still hurts to move, but it's fine. You get used to the pain," you softly smiled, subconsciously running your hand over the bruises on your arm. "Well no wonder you're stiff, someone did a number on you," Carlos smirked, trying to ignore the butterflies he was feeling.
You were his friend, and you just looked especially good tonight. It was nothing. "Ha ha, very funny," you said, tilting your body so he couldn't look at them. You were trying to forget about them, but it was a given that someone would point them out.
Carlos noticed your slight discomfort, and wanted to take back his comment. He just wanted to be normal and not act like he was really nervous to speak to you. "Hey, in all seriousness, are you sure you're alright? These look like they hurt," he said, gently bringing your arm closer to him so he could inspect the damage.
He spotted the ones that were scattered about your ribs, and he instantly felt worried. He always cared when you were hurt, but this was... Different. It was almost like he could feel the bruises too, he could feel the pain and he so desperately wanted to take it away.
"It's OK, everything hurts and they don't really add to it," you laughed, not wanting him to worry. "They look pretty sick, to be fair," Lando chipped in, feeling oddly like a third wheel. "Yeah, they kind of do. They're my battle wounds," you laughed, striking the best pose you could.
"Exactly, exactly. Max just got here, so I'm going to go and say hi. I'll catch up with you later," Lando waved, walking away from you. "I didn't miss anything while I was gone, did I?" you asked, knowing there were always shenanigans going on around the track.
"No, no. I was just very bored without you," he smiled. It was true, it wasn't the same without you. You just brought laughter with you wherever you went, and he only noticed when you weren't around. "I think you mean you were bored without anyone to bully," you teased.
"Same thing," he smiled, finishing off the last drops of fizz in his flute. 
"I'm going to go and get a drink, you want anything?" you asked, gazing at him. He looked handsome tonight, the black suit he was wearing making him look completely different. But in the best way possible. 
"Yeah, just another one of these is fine, thanks," he said, and you nodded. He watched as you walked across the hall, as your hips swayed under the light. He observed the way you leant against the bar, and couldn't help but glare at the people whose eyes glossed over you for that second too long. 
He felt an unnecessary pang of jealousy ripple through his body, but he didn't know why. You were his friend, and that was it. Again, he put it down to how good you looked tonight. Sure, you were always pretty, but tonight you were beautiful on a whole other level. 
He had never felt this way for you before. He had always seen you as one of his best friends, someone who he could gossip with and cause mischief with. But now, he was seeing you as someone he wanted to wake up next to every morning, and fall asleep with every night. 
He was completely mesmerised by you. It was like you had bewitched him, enchanted him somehow. You had trapped him under your spell and there was no counter curse. He was doomed to stare at you, as if his eyes were glued to your body for the rest of eternity. 
He watched as you sauntered back up to him, handing him a second flute of champagne. "Thanks," he smiled, trying to compose himself. Mentally, he was telling himself to just be normal, but his heart clearly wasn't getting the memo. 
"No problem, how long were you here before I was?" you asked, sipping away at your espresso martini. You figured the coffee mixed with the alcohol would wake you up a bit, maybe take the edge off. "Not long, maybe ten minutes? They were the most boring ten minutes of my life," he chuckled. 
"Did you just say something nice about me? One glass of bubbly and you're already tipsy? Damn Carlos," you smiled sincerely, nudging him in the ribs. 
"If that's how you react, then I'm never being nice to you again," he laughed, leaning back against the wall. As you drank your drinks, he couldn't help but hang onto your every word. He was noticing the little things now that he had previously overlooked.
Like the way you smiled with your teeth when you were properly laughing, or the way your eye slightly twinkled when talking about a topic you were passionate about. It was the way your mannerisms were just so you. 
As per usual with every gala, there was soft, mainly classical or smooth jazz music in the background. He had already thought ahead and figured out a way to play this off as a joke, but he hoped it wouldn't have to come to it. 
"Dance with me?" He smiled, extending a hand out to you. For a second, you froze, waiting for the punchline. But, you were just met with silence. Carlos thought he had completely messed it up, until you took his hand. 
"Sure," you smiled, standing in closer to him. Tentatively, he placed a hand on your waist, careful not to press too hard on your injuries. He hadn't actually thought about the possibility of you saying yes, funnily enough. 
You looped an arm around his back instead of over his shoulder, not wanting to lift your arms too much. As the pair of you swayed on the spot, entangled in each other's embrace, Carlos was trying to convince himself he wasn't dreaming. 
"You look really nice tonight, I never got the chance to say," you told him, watching the faint beginnings of a blush creep up onto his cheeks. "Thank you, uhm, so do you. You look incredible," he fumbled, preventing himself from speaking anymore, in case he took it too far.
He wanted to tell you that you were absolutely breathtaking, and that he found you unbelievably captivating. He wanted to tell you that he didn't know what had happened, but these feelings had just bombarded him all at once, out of nowhere.   
"Thank you," you said. He did allow his fingers to gently trace around the skin of your waist, and you couldn't help but enjoy the gesture. You shuffled in a little closer, slowly lifting your arm to rest around his shoulder.
It was a lot more comfortable in the end, even if it did cause you some slight pain to put it there. "But I really mean it, you're the prettiest girl here," he complimented, unable to stop himself from telling you. 
You found it slightly odd at the way he was acting, since Carlos was always so confident - borderline cocky. But now, he was stuttering and blushing. You thought it was sweet to see him in a different light, and this was refreshing to see that even confident people have their nervous moments. 
There was something about the way he looked at you, something that wasn't like normal. He always had this mischievous glint in his eyes, but tonight, it had been replaced with something else. It was soft and warm, but you couldn't find a word to define what it was. 
It was unusual, but not unwelcome. 
The dazzling smile that tugged at the corner of your lips at his compliment sent his heart into a fit of joy. But then, his heart dropped. It was at this point that he realised, in the span of a night, he had fallen in love with his best friend.
And he didn't think there would be an escape, not by any means. 
A/N - OK I think this is one of my favourite things I have ever written tbh... I am so willing to do a part 2, so lmk if that's something you'd like to see! If you have any requests, feel free to submit and have a wonderful evening/day. Love you! 💖
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