Cuddle Bug

BY YOUR HANDS ALONE

neteyam sully x gn!reader

notes: silly and overtly fluffy. flustered neteyam. reupload.

"there you are."

"here i am," you mirror back instantly, hardly sparing a glance up at the far too familiar voice as your fingers continue to work at chopping up some vegetables. it's a busy day—a momentous day. there is no time to waste.

"let me help," neteyam offers, already making moves to steal your knife from you as he steps to your side.

but you weave it away from his grasp, nudge him back with your shoulder and point the knife at him as you address him. "aht, don't think so," you differ, then continue your slicing. "besides, don't you have your own tasks to get to, mr. mighty warrior?"

days like this require a lot of preparation; everyone chipping in and doing their part so that it all gets done and runs smoothly. if even one person slacks off, it could cause a rift in sanctified plans. and that simply wouldn’t do. no, it would not.

"i have completed all of them, actually," he retorts, but he shrivels when you narrow your eyes up at him. "okay, almost all of them."

you scoff, let your pupils meet your sockets with a roll as you pry the truth out of him. of course, one of the most important days of the year and it is now that neteyam chooses to have an irresponsible whim. you aren’t sure what you’re gonna do with him.

"your mother will have your tail if she finds one thing out of place for tonight, you know this." it isn't necessarily a warning, but there is some tip-off in your tone. "you must get everything done."

neteyam hums, leans his hip against the raised wood that you are using as a makeshift counter. he says nothing, simply watches you. takes into account how you dice up the vegetables in front of you diligently before sliding them to the side with your knife and moving onto the next ones. his stare is driving you crazy—no one works well under pressure, after all.

it causes you to have a slight blunder; a misstep. you cut a pattern a tad too fast and send a slice of root tumbling towards the ground. neteyam's instincts are superb, quick, and he catches it before it hits the dirt. mumbling a thank you under your breath as he places it back on the tray, you find the heir before you still not making a move to speak.

you aren't sure why it unnerves you so.

"what do you have left to complete?" it's not the question you want to ask, but 'what the hell do you keep staring at?' doesn't sound quite as nice. so you settle on it.

you take a pause, a breath, to turn to him. throughout the years you have seen the eldest sully child wear many expressions. ones tainted by smiles, irritation, pride, devotion—but this one has you tipping your head in the most peculiar way.

because timidness is not something you think you've ever seen don the strong features of neteyam sully.

he carries himself with such an air of confidence; shoulders pressed back and chin held high—not arrogant, but undaunted. he does not shift gaze unless he is avoiding scoldings and he does not suck in his cheek unless he is fighting frustration. so, you wonder, what could possibly have his face contorted in such a reticent manner. if you did not know any better, you’d almost call his demeanor a rendition of shy. but that seems rather uncharacteristic of him, doesn’t it?

"ah—are you sure you don't need help with that?" he's deflecting, brushing off your inquiry like he hasn't heard it. and you can't decide whether you find that amusing or concerning.

he's making way for your knife again and you twist your arm to hold it out of his reach behind you. you eye him carefully, flit your gaze all around him to pick up on anything that you can that would explain his behavior.

"tell me." it's not an order, you aren't demanding, but neteyam nods his head like he's respondent of such.

"my father told me i needed a, uhm," he stutters, licks his lips, like he's tripping over his own tongue. and it's undeniable the way you see his ears twitch. "for the celebration tonight. i need a.."

"a what, neteyam?" you press, cock your brow up at him. you don't think you've ever seen him like this. never witnessed him so.. "you need a what?"

"a.. date."

so fidgety.

"a date?" you repeat with widening eyes.

"no, no not a—not a date really but i need someone for the—“

"the staining ceremony.” you finish for him, continue his sentence because with all his blubbering you aren’t sure he’ll ever spit it out.

he nods curtly.

the celebration tonight is for all the young warriors who have proved themselves throughout the calendar year as being strong willed and great protectors of the clan. neteyam, of course, is one of them. has been since he earned the right to be titled as such. so perhaps it should have clicked in your head that he’d be searching for a partner for the staining ceremony portion of the night.

but a part of you—if you’re being completely honest with yourself—just figured he had one already. events like this take weeks of planning; most warriors find their artisan a fortnight in advance. because it cannot just be anyone.

the partner one chooses for the staining ceremony must be someone with whom they feel a connection. some of the older warriors choose their mates. some of the youngest choose their mother or father. some settle for siblings. others, in brazen acts of outstretched hands, choose a mate unbonded; one who they harbor feelings for but have yet to seal such in the eyes of Eywa.

you cannot lie and say you had not pondered over who neteyam’s choice would be. a part of you thought he would pick kiri—they have always been so close and she has been his partner for such ceremony before. but, you are not deaf to the murmurs of your village, you are not ignorant of what has been passed from mouth to ear of all that will listen. there have been other… prospects who have been suggested to neteyam for this special commemoration.

your name has not been among them.

“well,” you continue, tear your eyes away from him and get back to the task at hand. there is no need to dwell on such things and fall behind. you have just one more batch of greens after this to prepare then you will be done and can walk away from all this. “if you’re here to ask my opinion on who your choice should be, i’m not sure i will prove to be much help.”

a shut down; a cut off. you’d like this conversation to be over as soon as possible because it’s making your fingers itch. you’re offering him a gateway to close the topic off.

but he doesn’t seem to get the memo.

“no,” he chuckles, now, and you can tell he’s shaking his head out of the corner of your eye. it’s breathy; like he’s punched it out of his chest and finally broken past the barrier of whatever flusteredness had him trapped before. “that’s not why i came to find you.”

“if it’s to convince kiri to sacrifice herself to do it for you again this year, i’m not game for that either.” you don’t understand why his laughter leaves you agitated, why this whole situation has caused an odd twisting in your gut.

“that won’t be necessary,” he disputes, “i do not need kiri to be my partner this year.”

your fingers fumble, your slicing stutters. “oh?” and you want to kick yourself for how your voice hitches. you clear your throat, bite the corner of your lip that neteyam can’t see. “convince some other poor soul to do it for you? is it zuy’nik? i know she presented you a kill from her hunt recently.”

neteyam hums. “no. i have not chosen zuy’nik.”

you grip your knife harder, focus carefully on the blade as you chop down on a bundle of leaves. your throat is dry, your heart is thundering. you feel silly.

“sënuul, then?” you question, do your best to sound as disinterested as possible even though your chest is burning to know who could be lucky enough to have been picked by the heir himself. “i hear many young warriors wish for her. they say she has delicate hands.”

your hands—in contrast—have grown tense; your chops near erratic. being this worked up over a man who is not your mate seems so futile, so nonsensical. if your mother were here to see you now she’d call you childish.

but is it so childish to want things your heart yearns for?

“while that may be true,” neteyam agrees with the sentiment, and that makes your stomach lurch, “it is not sënuul either.”

“then who is it? who could you possibly—“

a hand covering yours has you cutting yourself off. neteyam’s palm melds over your knuckles; stops your unsafe cutting and stills your wrist’s movements. before you can even bring yourself to look at him, calloused fingers are hooking around your chin. swiveling your head around, you have no choice but to meet his gaze. and it is not averting, not twinkling with tepidness like it was before. you think, for a moment, that’s because he’s passed the feeling onto you.

“i do not wish for any other partner in this clan.” and his voice does not waver, does not stumble, now. you swallow as you listen. “i came here to ask if you would do me the honors, for tonight.”

your tongue feels like cotton; the fuzz of it floating to your brain to make everything go static. this is.. not what you had expected.

you had expected to follow neytiri’s orders for preparing the food for the meals that would be shared. you had expected to dress yourself in the ceremonial clothing and jewelry you keep for these special occasions. you had expected to stand around the edges of the circle during the opening dance, serve food to the elders, and sit with a content tight smile as you watched kiri declare neteyam’s war paint for the third year in a row before the true celebration began.

you had not expected yourself to be standing face to face with neteyam, ears twitching embarrassingly sporadic, as he asks you to join him in one of the most intimate and important events of a warrior’s life.

and you suppose you can use that element of surprise as the reason why you find yourself a tad bit speechless while you nod dumbly. a wide grin cracks across his face, curves up his cheeks as he lets out another breathy laugh.

“thank you,” he murmurs, and he still hasn’t let go of your chin. “i was worried i would not get the chance to ask you in time. i was pushing it, but i tried to get all my other duties done as fast as i could.”

now that, the mention of time, finally knocks you out of your little lovesick trance.

“hey, wait,” you huff, shove at his chest lightly with your free hand. “you should have asked me sooner! i should have already had your stain pattern planned out, and—and now i have to go get all of your paints and i didn’t factor in the time for that. you’re terrible!”

“ah, i’m not terrible. i am sure you can just wing it,” he waves off, simpers like this is funny.

“wing it?” you gape at him. because he genuinely cannot be serious. “this will be your war paint pattern for the rest of the year. if it’s bad then you will be stuck with it. you want me just to wing that?!”

“why not? i have faith in you, i’ve put myself into your hands.” and it’s meant to playful, you know this, but the way he’s looking at you proves his words hold their full weight regardless. “don’t be mad at me.”

“oh, i’m mad,” you retort, brush him away as you get back to slicing because now you really do not have the time for distractions. “i cannot believe you have waited until last minute.”

“would you like me to ask someone else?” he queries, and you whip your head over to level him with a glare. “i mean, i am sure sënuul would be honored to be the partner of the future olo’eyktan.”

“you know, i liked you better when you were sputtering and nervous,” you spit back, retract your attention once again. “terrible. truly terrible.”

“ah, do not be mad at me,” he levels again, “what can i do to have you forgive me?”

“nothing. you will never be forgiven.” with no hesitation, but also no malice. your bite holds no venom, and your cheeks are still warm. such hypocrisy you spew.

“nothing?” he questions, and you don’t even have to see his face to know he is smiling. there he is again; the neteyam who holds his chin up high and taunts his brother into mindless games to prove his worth. you admire this neteyam; love this neteyam.

this neteyam grabs your face and tugs you forward before you can think of another mindless rebuttal to spout.

the kiss is light but fervent, and if you were a poetic person you might just say that his lips taste like future promises you already intend to keep. the fight drains from your body and you find no urge to bring it back. this neteyam seems to know how to quell you, how to dispel your frustration and wipe away your grievances like fogged up glass. so easy, so effortlessly.

he pulls away languidly, breath puffing against your lips. "forgive me?" he asks again, and you find yourself nodding before he even finishes the question.

he turns your head to peck your cheek then drops his hands to finally successfully steal the knife still held in yours. you tip your head, blinking through the daze to inquire what he's doing.

"i can finish that, you know."

"i know," he answers, then flashes you a crooked grin that has your stomach twisting in a way far different than before. "but don't you think you should start planning how you want to trail your hands over me?"

and, oh. part of you wants to hit him for that. but part of you wants to tug him in by the neckpiece he dons and get him to shut up by an alternative method.

as you reach forward to run your hand ever so heedlessly up his chest, a faux illusion of planning your mapping, you think you might just settle on the latter.

❥ Braids , Locs , Twists And More. Maxis Match Edition Part 3❥

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21

Part 1 2 4 Huge Thanks to the Creators ❥ @simkatu @twisted-cat @simsenshi @ceeproductions @thatonegreenleaf @redheadsims-cc @sehablasimlish @leeleesims1 @aladdin-the-simmer @laeska @qicc @sheabuttyr @goamazons @simstrouble @sashima @joshseoh @greenllamas

Why is like every account I’ve ever blogs on here deactivated

just friends?

she fell first, he fell harder

wc: 2.2k

pairing: Earth-42! Miles Morales x reader

Summary: In the early years of your adolescence, you made the grave mistake of asking Miles to ‘practice kissing’ for future suitors. That mistake would come back to bite you every following day.

Warnings: cursing, childhood friends to lovers, friends that kiss, jealousy, started off the fic with a bang cuz i dont believe in small talk, possessiveness

A/N: what happened to hello? what happened to how are you?

----------

Your current predicament was straddling Miles' lap as you both kissed like this would be the last time you ever did. His hands grabbed onto your thighs that encased his legs. Pulling away for a second, you watched as a small string of saliva binds both of your lips.

Looking down at him, you asked out of breath, "We're still just friends, right?" The question caught him off guard. But he responds with a teasing smirk, "Yeah, yeah ma. Just friends." You nervously bit your bottom lip, nodding at his response. Wrapping your hands onto his braids, you smashed your lips against his yet again to ignore your conflicted thoughts.

It's times like this when your past mistake comes back to haunt you. And he made sure you never lived it down. The mistake in question was made on the playground with Miles when you were both ten. Being the young and innocent child you were, you proposed to 'practice kissing' for potential lovers in the future. As all kids do. He accepted and it all sprouted from there. You were each other's first kiss.

That first kiss was only one of many to come. You both had urges, after all. Since your younger days, it turned into something a bit more than just practice. But you never gave it a second thought. Until of late. What used to be a silly playground crush on Miles only grew stronger as the years passed by.

In all honesty, you had no clue where you stood with Miles. What were you, friends that kiss periodically? That was how it was, you suppose. But what you did know was that you'd stay by his side no matter the circumstance. Even if it meant that your friendship would never develop into more. Although occasionally you wished you never initiated to 'practice kissing' with him in your naive and prepubescent years. That would solve your problem at its roots and prevent the rapidly growing feelings you had for him. It was no doubt a mistake in your mind.

Separating your lips for a second time, you pulled away again. He stared at you in confusion. You looked frantic, "Shit, what time is it?" Glancing at the time on your phone, you cursed. It was 3:30 pm. "Fuck, I have a date at four o'clock. I gotta go, Miles." You jumped off of Miles' lap on his bed and swiftly started packing up your things.

Miles felt jealousy start to boil within his stomach as his lap felt empty. He was right here, why would you need to go on a date with some other guy? Furrowing his brows, he irritably questioned, "What do you mean you have a date? With who?" He tried to conceal his annoyance but failed miserably.

"Some guy from my physics class asked me out, sorry but I gotta go." Grabbing your bag, you pecked his cheek lightly as a goodbye. Glancing in his mirror one last time, you tamed any stray strands of hair.

Your response only fueled his jealousy, "Fuck you mean? Do you even know his name?" He started interrogating you.

"Of course I do, it's..." You paused for a second to think, and your conclusion was unclear. Your mind was foggy. "I think it's Javi? Or maybe Jake? Jacob? Shit, I think you kissed the thoughts right out of my brain." You rambled. Your words made him crack a slight smirk, and he said, "Nah, you ain't going on that date ma." pulling you back into his hold by your hips.

"I can't just stand him up, Miles." You told him, starting to regret agreeing on going on the date. "I could take you on a better date than he can, mami." He suggested.

He was full of surprises this afternoon. Usually, he didn't display such possessiveness. You didn't even like the supposed guy you were going on a date with. You just thought he could help you get your mind off of Miles for a few minutes.

Raising an eyebrow, you asked, "Is that an offer?" "It's a promise." He responded without an ounce of hesitation. The way he was staring at you almost made you take him up on it. "Tempting, but I'll have to take a rain check. See you tomorrow. Alright, Miles?" You waved goodbye and walked out his door.

"'Ight, ma. See you." He gave up. As he watched you walk out the door of his room, he groaned in frustration.

The unfortunate recipient of his frustrations was a punching bag in his Uncle Aaron's apartment. Striking the bag with all the force he could muster, the punching bag rumbled on the chain it was strung upon. His knuckles were slowly getting bloodier with each hit, but he couldn't feel it. He could only feel you. It was the only thing he wanted to feel, anyway.

His Uncle inevitably noticed his behavior. Cleaning off one last knife, he set it down and walked towards his nephew. He held the punching bag steady and questioned him, "What's up with you, man?"

Continuing to throw punches at the unsuspecting punching bag, he responded sharply. "It's nothin'. Just my girl going on a date with some other guy." His nostrils flared slightly.

With those two sentences, his Uncle understood his sour mood. "That doesn't sound like nothing. And you just let her? I don't think you're my nephew, man." Shrugging, Miles took a quick water break. Taking a long swig of water, he replied, "You know her, she's stubborn." He had introduced you to his Uncle a while back. His whole family knew you, in fact. Every time he went back home, his mother asked about you. How you are, and when he’s going to tell you how he feels. It seemed everyone knew. Except you.

"Hey. If you want this girl, you gotta show her before someone else does." His Uncle wisely told him. Miles stopped hitting the punching bag and started wrapping his bloodied knuckles in bandages.

Those words stuck with Miles for the rest of the night as he made his way back to his dorm.

Laying on the bed of his dorm, Miles stayed up thinking about what his Uncle told him. His dorm felt empty without you there, he realized.

The next afternoon in his dorm again, you laid on your stomach on his bed, kicking your feet in the air. You frequented his dorm so often that you were more of a roommate to him than his actual one. Glancing at Miles, you noticed the bandages on his knuckles. “Ay, Miles. What happened?” You asked him, taking his hand into yours to inspect it. He disregarded it, "Don’t worry about it.” He continued, addressing the elephant in the room. “How was your date with Javi, Jake, or Jacob?"

You casually respond, "Actually, his name was Jason. And it was fine, I suppose. Although I called him by the wrong name a few times until he corrected me." You mumbled the last part, embarrassed. Not to mention, you almost called him by Miles' name. Not just once but multiple times.

"Just fine, huh?" He replied, intrigued. And slightly satisfied that you didn't have too good of a time.

"Yeah. I mean, he tried kissing me by the end. But his breath reeked of garlic, so I looked the other way and pretended I didn't notice." You said with a grimace, pretending to get flashbacks. In reality, Miles ruined kissing for you. You couldn't stop seeing Miles' face as your date was leaning into you. He wasn't him.

Stifling a laugh, he grinned at you. "So, does that mean you want to take me up on my offer now?" You whipped your head to him in surprise as you said, "You were serious about that? I mean, I'm down." Friends go on dates, don't they? You thought to yourself.

Nodding his head, he said, "I made a promise, ma." He started to stand up, gently grabbing your hand to pull you up with him. Locking your hand onto his arm, he led you out of campus.

Miles brought you to an endearing cafe only a few blocks away from the campus. A diamond in the rough, you thought. As you both sat down across from each other, you felt your nerves spiking.

Truth be told, he still made you nervous at times. Although you've undoubtedly been friends with him for longer than either of you could remember. The both of you ordered food and you started to speak, "So, you take all your girls here, Miles?" Putting on a calm facade, you teased him. You were glad he couldn't see your leg bouncing with anxiousness underneath the table.

He let out a slight puff at you, "What girls? Solo eres tú, mami. You know that." Your heart fluttered slightly at his words. Widening your eyes, you murmured, "I didn't know that, actually." You cleared your throat and enunciated, "How'd you find out about this place then?" Your voice piqued with interest. You didn't believe he would frequent this cute cafe in his spare time. It wasn't exactly his scene, so to say.

"This is where my dad took my ma on their first date." He said with an unusually soft tone, staring into your eyes for your reaction. You would never guess it, but he saw a future with you. Ever since that day on the playground, he knew it was real. His affection for you never dimmed since then.

As you both locked eyes, you realized then that he took you to a place that was sentimental to him and his family. This cafe was where his parent’s story first started. All of a sudden, this date felt a bit more serious than he had originally let on.

Under his stare, you felt your face go warm, "That's beautiful, Miles." After a few moments, you continued, "I suddenly feel like I'm intruding, though." His response came quick, "Never, mami. What makes you say that?" You confessed the thoughts that swarmed your brain right when you walked into the cafe, "I mean, this place feels a bit intimate for people that are 'just friends'" You said with air quotations.

"I think we're past that stage. Don't you, princesa?" You nodded at him. He was right, you thought. After all, friends don't usually have an oral fixation for their friend's mouth.

Your orders came at the same time. You both comfortably conversed. It was a nice change of pace after your date from yesterday. After you both ate your orders and paid, Miles and you walked down the street with his fingers settling on your waist. You spoke up, "Thanks for bringing me here today, Miles. I had a good time with you." You wanted nothing more than to reach up and kiss him til he couldn't breathe, but resisted.

"Anytime. If it meant you'd stop going on dates with other guys." He said casually, but his grip firmed on your waist. Your head turned to him at his words. After your date with Miles, you were sure he ruined dates for you as well. Just like he ruined your ability to kiss anyone else. "Yeah, I'm not even sure I'll want to go on a date with anyone else after this." You said under your breath. He silently grinned.

As you both made your way back to Miles' dorm, the urge to kiss him only became stronger. You could tell he felt it, too. You noticed how he walked a bit faster to go back to his dorm.

Once the door to his room opened, you gave in to your desires and pulled him in by his hoodie to connect your lips. He backed you against his door as his hands traveled all over your body like it was a new territory he was unfamiliar with. He couldn't get enough of you. Groaning into your mouth, he deepened the kiss impossibly more. You both parted for a moment to get a quick breath of air.

Staring into his eyes, you told him before you lost the courage, "I don't want to be just friends. Friends that kiss sometimes when they feel like it." He looked at you like you just told him he won the lottery. In his eyes, this scenario was better than winning the lottery. He grinned as he kissed you again. Full of heat, his kiss spoke louder than words. "Then why don't we be lovers that kiss?” He pulled away to whisper against your lips. “Yeah, I think I like that idea.” You smiled against his lips.

That kiss from yesterday would be the last kiss you shared. As friends, that is. And this would be your first kiss as lovers. From the very first chapter of your life, he was there. And to the present-day chapter of your life, he's still here with you. In the end, It'll always be him and you.

------------

solo eres tú - it’s only you

princess - princess

15+ Mods You Need for Cozy & Realistic Gameplay By Ashley Plays

Tweaks & Fixes.

No Bad Microwave Buffs

Steady Sit & Seat Any Sim

Less or No Food Spoiling

Break No More

Gameplay Mods.

Functional Wall Phone

Greetings

Tabletop Pumpkin Carving Mat

Brand New Bedsheets

Clean House & Ask to Clean House

Food Delivery Mods.

Delivery Services

Food Shop Delivery

Zoomers Delivery Plus

Romance Mods.

Call Anytime

Road to Romance

Carry and Kiss

More Kisses

Pillow Talk

Bed Cuddle

can u do 13 & 48 w elliot?

pulling your lover closer by the waistband

a kiss that lasts longer than it should

-

It was supposed to be quick goodbye kiss before going home, but as you were kissing in the foyer, Elliot had pulled you closed by waistband of your jeans, pulling your bodies flush together. A small, breathy gasp left your lips when he rolled his hips against you.

Elliot's cousin was out and you were thankful. You didn't want her to witness her horny cousin humping you. It would be embarrassing - for you and her.

You knew what he wanted, but you couldn’t git it to him. Your curfew was in fifteen minutes and you had already lied to your parents about a school project with Rue - there was no school project. You couldn’t risk her calling the Bennetts’ to check if you were on your way. 

''I gotta go, baby,'' you said with a pout, breaking from your boyfriend's lips.

He whined and kissed your jaw, trailing down your neck. ''Just one more minute.''

You giggled and tangled your fingers in his blond curls, staying for a few more kisses.

-

Tag-list:  @milkiane  @euphoricfeminine

Elliot tag-list: @adashipsjegulus @lovesanimals0000  @ellyskey @barbietiingz

heyy. can u do a fic about dom being needy on tour? just always talkin bout y/n during his sets any chance he gets & being clingy underneath of them right after.

not nsfw this time lmao. sex mentioned but no acts. not proofread. love you guys <3

x

this time around, dom was way more involved in the behind-the-scenes aspects of the tour, walking around and making sure everyone on the team was good and helping them when they weren't. the authoritative tone in his voice as he told them, respectfully but firmly, what he was looking for. walking up and down the same hallway, carrying out tasks from person to person, it was so amusing to watch. you only saw him with this same passion when he was in the studio, his lips pressed and a slight arch in his brow. most people wouldn't notice but you'd studied this man at every given chance, you noticed every tick of his. which is why you knew, he couldn't wait to pull you to the green room and shoo everyone out so he could get you alone.

with a knowing smirk on your lips, you're leant against the doorframe of said green room, watching as he's on his way to deliver electrical tape to who knows. "you're gonna tire yourself out before the show even starts," you warn, knowing how he tends to take on more than he can chew.

"nah, i got plenty left, trust. get in there and close the door, i'm coming in there after this." he shakes his curls out before breaking into a jog, hurrying to whoever he had to pass the tape to.

you just watch him pass you, eyes trailing over him until he's out of sight, pressing your lips together to hide your smile as you step back, closing the green room door while it was still empty of stragglers.

it didn't take too long, scrolling on tiktok to pass the time when the door opened without a knock, signalling it was dom. he closed and locked the door behind himself, strolling right over to you and before you could get any words out pressed his lips to yours. he was eager and needy, kisses rushed but yet like he was trying to savor your taste before he had to hit the stage. putting your hands on his chest, you kissed him back but gently pushed him away.

"after." you smiled knowingly, watching him deflate with disappointment.

"i've been hard for the past ten minutes." he complained, not trying to make you feel guilty. he knew you were right - you always were. but you were sure he was starting to hurt. "you're wearing those fucking jeans." burying his face in your neck, leaving little kisses and nipping you right where he knew you were sensitive.

you laughed, knowing exactly what he meant. his favorite pair of jeans on you. he claimed they made your ass look 'even hotter'. you couldn't disagree. with the hefty price tag, it better be working wonders. rubbing his back, you only soothed him, knowing better than to give in.

"i'm flattered. but you have soundcheck in like... twenty." you checked your apple watch. you got used to wearing a watch after he started up doing shows and public appearances again. he tended to run late.

"twenty whole minutes? that's plenty of time!" he gasped, whining like a child, only making you roll your eyes.

"you have to have your mic pack on before then. people are gonna interrupt any minute." you cup his cheek, bringing his face up to meet yours, pecking his lips chastely. "and as much as i love you and i love quickies, i want to take my time with you. is that okay with you?"

it took him a few seconds to take in your words before he gives you that crooked smile, "well i'm not gonna say no to that."

during the show, he couldn't help but to mention you. he often did during his sets but not like this.

"this next song is called bodies. and i wanna dedicate it to my fine ass girlfriend over there," he slouches over the mic, guitar strap around his neck as he points to you waiting in the wings, "cuz we're starting fresh right after this show's over. let's go!" he goes into the song, bypassing the innuendo that he made and leaving your jaw dropped. he laughed into the lyrics as he looked back at your reaction, fingers flipped to send him the bird playfully as he continued into the song.

𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙠𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

"stupid things have good outcomes all the time."

© msgorillagripcoochie , do not steal or translate my work

where you will find (almost) every obx fic ms coochie wrote below

pope heyward

jj maybank

sarah cameron

rafe cameron

for bonus fics look here

Could you do a wally Clark x reader with the prompts "i've been stupid enough to keep chasing after you." And "Feeling unwanted whenever they see their crush giving their time, attention, and affection to someone else. " I was thinking something where reader gets jealous of Maddie, real angsty but with a happy ending where wally and reader stop being stupid and confess to each other

i don't wanna dance if i'm not dancing with you

Wally Clark x Reader (3.3k)

Warnings: A curse word or two. Mentions of death (kinda unavoidable)

Author's Note: Thank you so much for sending this in. I really hope you like it. This was really fun to write, and I am so incredibly proud of it. I don't think I used any gendered terms for the reader, but if I did someone please let me know and I will relabel this. Happy reading!!

The title comes from "Holy Ground" by Taylor Swift

(divider by saradika-graphics)

Note: My work is not to be posted anywhere else on any other platforms.

MASTERLIST

It really shouldn't bother you so much, seeing Wally, seeing everyone except for Rhonda, really, fawning all over Maddie. It's normal to be excited and curious when there's a new ghost. You're curious, too. You want to know what happened to her, how she got here. There hasn't been a new ghost in a really long time, you kinda thought there may never be another one. 

But Maddie isn't like every other ghost at Split River. She doesn't know how she got here. She doesn't remember how she died. And that makes everything even curiouser.

You feel for the girl, you really do. Accepting that you're dead is hard enough when you know exactly how it happened. The only mystery you should be solving in your afterlife is how to move on, not how you got here in the first place.

Maddie Nears is an unprecendented event. Of course she's piqued everyone's interest. It's just that she's piqued Wally's interest and you can't help but feel like it's for an entirely different reason.

You've been stuck in this purgatory for two decades, after some shithead all-star senior was so excited to take his teammates for a ride in his brand new pickup that he didn't bother to check his rearview before backing out of his parking spot. 

When you got here you weren't too different from Maddie. You had no interest in being a part of anything, you didn't want to sit in Mr. Martin's little support group and talk about your feelings about being dead. You didn't want to write your obituary or accept what happened to you. You wanted to wander the halls, keep tabs on your friends to see if they were okay. You wanted to still be alive. Not that experience of Split River had been much better when you had a pulse, but at least you were breathing.

It was weeks before you started to come around to the whole being a ghost thing. To the reality that you were never going back. That one day your friends would walk out those doors for good and you'd never see them again unless they decided to show their faces at a class reunion somewhere down the line.

You went through your own grieving process, got to the point of acceptance, and that's when Wally Clark made himself known as something more than just another ghost in a folding chair for group. 

He'd been the only one of the ghosts that you recognized when you got there. There was still a photo of him in the school's trophy case. He was still a celebrated part of the school's history. A tragedy still commemorated. Unlike the other ghosts that the school tried to make everyone forget about. Somehow, he was still larger than life. He could be best friends with anyone in what felt like the blink of an eye. And he figured that yeah, being stuck here kinda sucks, but why not make the best of it?

So you did. You got on board with his philosophy. You did field day and helped with decorations for the homecoming game. You sat at the front of the bleachers and watched Wally's yearly go at reliving his glory days. You helped make the most of the yearly class reunions. 

Without you even realizing, you and Wally kind of became joined at the hip. Anywhere you went, he was usually there too and vice versa. Everyone noticed, you know they noticed. Charley was more subtle about it than Rhonda, but they noticed. And they made sure you knew it.

The funny thing about being trapped for an eternity is that eventually you lose all sense of urgency. Nothing feels that pressing anymore. You have all the time in the world, you can wait. You thought you had a lot more time to figure out what to do with your crush on Wally. You couldn't have anticipated Maddie or Wally clearly being into her. 

You feel you've been handling it pretty well, all things considered. You barely even flinched when Rhonda made the comment about Wally having a crush on Maddie after you all found out about Simon. Wally's reaction to that comment didn't do anything to dispute Rhonda's claim, and that made your heart break just a little bit more.

So you left, followed Maddie's lead and got the hell out of there. And after that you kept your distance. Stayed out of your and Wally's local haunts, tried to avoid him at every turn. Hid out in the auditorium since he barely ever goes in there because Mina intimidates him. You skipped out on movie night and gave yourself a few days to got your head on straight. 

If Wally likes Maddie then you're going to do your best to be happy for him because that's what friends do. Turns out that's a lot easier said than done. 

You come out of hiding just in time for homecoming set up. It's one of your favorite parts of the year and you don't want to miss it. You usually do a lot of the helping because you know how important this is to Wally. Everyone else is kind of just humoring him, but you really want it to be great for him. After all, there aren't many things to look forward to in this place.

You thought maybe they would've waited for you before they started decorating. But, really, why would they? There are so many things to do and so little time. It's nothing personal. And logically you know that, but it still stings to see Wally and Maddie painting the banner together. Because every other year it's been you in her place. 

Charley and Rhonda notice you first. There's some kind of snarky remark, one-hundred percent intended to get Wally's attention, on the tip of Rhonda's tongue, but you shake your head, practically begging her not to, before she can even say it. For once, she listens.

You don't want to be noticed just because of Rhonda. It feels like a silly thing to feel so strongly about, but you do. You've been feeling like you're second best for what feels like months, but hasn't been anywhere close to that long. And you just want to feel like you matter half as much to Wally as he matters to you. 

He doesn't notice you until Maddie leaves to chase after her mom. He drops his paintbrush and a smile takes over his lips at the sight of you. But it doesn't feel good, not like it used to.

"Hey." He says, quickly getting up and trying to swipe some of the paint off his face. He takes one step in your direction and something inside of you panics. You thought you were ready, you really did. But now he's a few feet away and you realize that you're not even close to ready. So you do the only logical thing, even if it is a slightly embarrassing and patheic thing, and you run away.

You make it into the hallway and you know it's only a headstart. He's taller than you and there's no way he's just going to let you have this. He's not going to let this go when you've pretty obviously been avoiding him. 

You hear his footsteps enter the hallway a few seconds later. You don't stop, but you do slow down to a fast walk. You're not really sure where you're heading to, you have nowhere in mind, you just want to get away from him.

"Hey." He calls after you, his voice still kind and curious. "I've been looking everywhere for you. Where'd you go?"

Because you're feeling a little hurt, and a lot petty, you bite back with, "Clearly you haven't been looking hard enough."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asks, a bitter edge finally working its way into his voice. 

"Nothing, Wally." You say, shaking your head. "It doesn't mean anything."

The sound of Wally's sneakers hitting the linoleum comes to an abrupt stop, but you don't. You keep heading for the stairwell doors.

"Okay, seriously, what's going on with you?"

"Just drop it, Wally."

"No." He says it with such force that it makes you stop. "You've been avoiding everyone. Rhonda, Charley, me. We've been best friends for twenty years, you think I don't know when something's going on with you?"

"You just think you know everything, don't you?" You snap, finally turning to look at him.

"About you? Yeah, I do." There's a cocky sort of confidence to the way he says it that makes your blood boil. Because you know that he's probably right. It's been a long time. Every single day spent together for twenty years, what could he possibly not know about you after all that time?

In some ways, you're pretty sure he knows you bette than you know yourself. That doesn't feel as good as it used to, either.

"Yeah, well, maybe you don't know as much as you think you do." You think getting punched in the stomach would've hurt less than seeing the expression on his face. It's like you just shattered something priceless. And no matter how you might try, those pieces are never going to fit back together.

This isn't the first time you've pulled something like this. Said something you know you'll regret just to get Wally to back off for a bit. It's usually, scratch that, it's always when there's something you don't want to confront. It hasn't always had to do with Wally. It happened for pretty much the entirety of your senior year. You'd accepted that you were dead by then, it'd been over a year, but it was hard to watch your friends go through so many rites of passage. It hurt to see them all preparing to move on when you were stuck and you always would be.

You wanted to implode. To sabotage what little you had. So you pushed people away so they wouldn't be in the blast zone during demolition. You were protecting them, protecting Wally. And you're still doing it. Even if he doesn't understand, even if he doesn't see it that way right now. Even if he never does.

"I know you do this sometimes." He says, trying a different tactic and aiming for understanding instead of accusation. Like that might be enough to get you to just come clean. "You get in your head about something and you get scared. You kick us out of your life before we can give up on you and run."

He's walking towards you now, and every cell in your body wants to run away. You hate the way the air seems have to shifted. A few minutes ago you felt like you had control over this, but right now it doesn't seem like it. It's in his hands now, and you don't know what to do that.

"But," He says your name just as he gets close enough to touch, his hand reaching out for your arm, "I'm not running anywhere."

"You are, though." You say, almost without thinking, and quickly pull your arm out of his reach. "You're running to something and it's not me."

Wally, to his credit, looks genuinely dumbfounded by that. "I have no idea what that means."

"Don't be dense, Wally, it's not a good look on you." 

You feel like you're making a mess of this. Whatever this is. You don't know the right thing to say. You don't know how to be honest in the right way. You feel like you're ruining everything before you've even really started.

"I'm sorry." You say. "I know I'm being kind of an asshole. I, just, I'm trying to be happy for you, and I am, apparently, really bad at it."

If you were listening, you would've heard Wally ask, "Happy about what?," but you're far too wrapped up in your head to hear it.

"Because you seem really happy lately. Happier than I've seen you in a long time. And that's great, really, it is. I want you to be happy. I just need to get over myself because nothing's ever gonna happen."

Something flashes in Wally's expression. You're not sure if it's shock or maybe guilt, but whatever it is, you know you can't stand it.

"I mean, it's been twenty years. If something was gonna happen, it would've happened by now. And every time I thought something would happen, it didn't. And I've been stupid enough to keep chasing after you because I still thought that maybe something would happen someday. But it won't. And I need to get that through my head."

It was like you hyperventilated through that. Like there wasn't any time to stop and take a proper breath, not that you even need to breathe anymore, because you needed to say all of that. It needed to be out there, and there wasn't time for anything to get in its way.

Right now you kind of wish you could have that feeling back. That sense of urgency, of a timer running down. Because now it feels like time has stopped moving, like you're holding your breath. Because Wally hasn't moved. His expression hasn't shifted an inch and he hasn't said a word. 

You immediately get it in your head that you've made a fool out of yourself. That this connection between the two of you is strictly a friend thing and nothing more, and he's trying to find the right way to let you down easy. You have no interest in sticking around for that. 

Without wasting another second, you turn on your heel and take off towards the staircase doors once more. You hear Wally call your name, finally finding his voice as he begs for you to just wait. But you're not turning around. Not this time.

Okay, so, maybe skipping the homecoming game was a shitty thing to do. You intended to still go. To pull yourself out of wallowing in a darkened corner of the auditorium and find your way to the bleachers. You got halfway up the aisle before you decided you just couldn't do it.

You can't see him right now. You don't want to have to watch as he fumbles for the right way to tell you that he just doesn't see you that way. As he tries his best to not make things awkward between you two for the rest of eternity. 

So you sit this year out. You bunker down in a front row seat and try to block out stray noise from the field. You try to forget that it's homecoming at all.

You go to the field the next night, when everyone should be in the gym at the dance. You want some peace and quiet and a good view of the stars. You get a little more than you bargained for.

You hear footsteps coming up the stairway. Metal clinks beneath each step, you don't bother to look in the direction of the sound. You're hoping it's a maintenance team or one of the coaches, but you know better than that.

The footsteps stop right next to you, you watch from your peripheral as Wally sits down beside you.

"Figured you'd be at the dance." You say, still looking ahead at the field down below. He's certainly dressed for the dance. You've seen the suit before, he takes homecoming very seriously, but it is always nice to get a break from his sweatsuit.

"I was on my way." He says, fiddling with the box in his hand. "But it just didn't feel right."

You nod your head. The last thing you want to do is add to the conversation and risk putting your foot in your mouth even further.

"I've been thinking about what you said yesterday." He starts. "It's kind of all I've been thinking about, actually."

Here it comes. You brace yourself prematurely, preparing for whatever variation of 'we can still be friends' is about to come out of his mouth.

"I think our wires got crossed somewhere. I mean, I thought I was kind of painfully obvious."

You turn your head at that, you can't help it. There are a million ways you thought this could go, but this isn't one of them.

"I talked to Rhonda and Charley, and they pointed out that you've been acting so weird because you think I like Maddie." He says, watching you with a slightly amused expression. "Which was really interesting because Rhonda's been teasing me for decades about my crush on you."

You don't know what to say. You're pretty sure you see a hint of nerves creep into his expression at your hesitation.

"How, uh," You clear your throat, "For how long?"

"Pretty much since the day I met you."

You nod, looking back out towards the field for a moment. For some reason you feel like you can't even begin to process that while looking at him.

"I, uh, I didn't know that." You say, looking back towards him but quickly looking away once more. 

"Yeah, I figured." You roll your eyes, turning your head to look at him. Your stare holds for a second before the two of you start laughing. It's a small thing, short but incredibly fond.

It dies off quickly, and nothing feels funny anymore. Not with the way he's looking at you. He slides in a bit closer on the bench and leans towards you. You tilt your head up slightly to meet him in the middle.

You know it's been a long time coming, but if this is the kind of kiss twenty years can get you, you think it's well worth it. That time doesn't feel so wasted anymore. Because even if you weren't together, it was all leading to this moment. And this feels pretty perfect, you're not sure you would've wanted it any other way. If you would've been ready for it at any other time.

You pull back after a few seconds, but you don't stray very far. Your forehead presses against his as you grin into the space between you.

You let yourself sit in the quiet for a moment, just enjoying what you have. You don't want to be the one to burst the bubble first, to be the one who throws you both back into reality. Not when this feels like such a dream.

"So, do you wanna go to the dance with me?"

You laugh at that, you can't help it. Everything about this really is so high school. It's a scene straight out of a teen movie. But you're not mad at it. You don't think you ever will be.

"Yeah, I'd love to."

Wally takes your hand and leads you towards the steps, but stops before you even get back on solid ground.

"I made this for you." He says, handing over the box he'd been holding this entire time.

You open the lid and stare down at the corsage. It's mostly paper, but that doesn't make it any less beautiful. Besides, your eyes are more drawn to the 57 right in the middle.

"57." You say, smiling up at him. "Your football number."

"Yeah, it was a tradition when I was in school." He watches as you stare at it for a few seconds longer, clearly getting the wrong idea and jumping to play it off. "Do you hate it? Because you don't have to wear it if you don't want to."

"It's perfect." You say as you slide it on to your wrist. You brush your thumb over one of the petals before you lean up and press a kiss to his cheek. "Come on." You take his hand and lead him back to the school.

Homecoming might just be your new favorite time of year, too.

uhmm not to add to ur torture but art does this after patrick finishes inside of u

https://x.com/yul_erotica/status/1567267102502912001?s=46&t=7TmegSCVL2oWlJID6RaplQ

sorry if this is too gross bye ily

this is not too gross at all. link (twt porn link, MDNI 18+)

i absolutely agree w u. i think that with art, it takes him a second to warm up to the idea of cleaning you up like this, but once he does, he's all in. however, this rlly speaks to me as patrick cleaning you up after art cums in you.

patrick is nastier, less restrained with his displays of desire. you and art have both called him gross with the biggest smiles on your faces, so he's leaned into it by now. that's who he is, the Gross One. he takes on the characteristic whenever he gently nudges art out from between your legs while he's trying to calm down. you're in the same boat as art, eyes focused on the ceiling and blinking slowly. and then you feel him, his presence and warmth between your legs.

"patrick," you warn, not even looking at him as you shake your head. patrick just protests in a whisper.

"'m just gonna help you out. clean you up a little, okay?" and then his head is between your legs and he's absolutely brutal with it. he adds to your stimulation instead of takes away from it.

when art has done it in the past, he was gentle. you knew what to expect from art, you knew he would swipe his fingers through the leaking cum and bring it to his lips. he would work his tongue in wide, long stripes, maximized space to minimize the time.

but when patrick does it, it's like he's giving you head. after a minute or so, when you get that wanton feeling low in your gut, you figure he is giving you head.