#They talk about how stupid they are for liking Liam | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

upsidedownwithsteve · 1 year ago

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[4.5K] Steve Harrington x fem!reader 18+

A/N: sorry, no advent blurb today as we’re v tired and v sick and writing doesn’t sound fun. but please have an old fic that was once on the masterlist

“This is a bad idea,” you whispered, shy, nervous, wanting to curl into yourself.

Steve stayed still behind you, your back to his chest, his legs bent and framing your own. His hand stroked over your knee, a safe distance, one that didn’t add too much pressure to the situation. The boy pressed a kiss to your cheek, nose nudging your temple. “We can stop, if you want.” His voice was quiet and filled with soft sincerity. “It’s okay.”

But you’d asked for this, face flushed, squirming on Steve’s bed sheets ‘cause how on earth did you go from watching Fast Times at Ridgemont High to talking about sex to telling your best friend you’d never had an orgasm?

“What?” He’d asked, face soft with shock. “What about those six months you dated that guy, whatshisface? Liam?”

“Lewis,” you’d corrected, fingers pulling uncomfortably at the blanket Steve kept at the end of his bed for you. “And no, he just couldn’t get me there, I guess. Maybe it was me. It’s gotta be me, I can’t even make it happen myself.”

Steve had paused at that, looking at you with parted lips and soft eyes ‘cause you looked so sad, so frustrated, defeat taking over from the embarrassment you’d felt in admitting such a thing.

“It’s not you,” he’d said, determined. “He should’ve taken his time with you or— or, found out what you liked.”

You huffed out a laugh at that, humourless and tired. You shrugged, hands falling into your lap. “How’s that fair when I don’t even know what I like myself?”

You don’t know what happened after that. Just that the movie was paused and the evening outside turned to night, Steve’s blue room turning navy in the shadows, the dull glow of his bedside lamp making your bare legs turn apricot and rosy in the light. His hand looked so big against your knee, like he could swallow you whole.

You asked him. Voice quiet, words making the boy’s cheeks turn pink. Asked him to help, to show you, to tell you what you were doing wrong which sounded so ridiculous, because Jesus Christ, it was your body, for fuck sake.

You sucked in a deep breath. “No, it’s fine. I’m just— being stupid. We can keep going.”

You felt Steve relax a little behind you, his body sinking into the pile of pillows at his headboard, your body falling into his in turn. His thumb drew circles on the side of your knee, a touch you’d felt before: during a horror movie in the dark of the cinema, in the front seat of his car when you cried about a boy who wasn’t him, when he’d argued with his dad and you piled yourself into his lap for comfort.

“Are you sure?” Steve whispered and his voice was right by your ear, lips almost touching the shell of it. It made you shiver, spine tingling. “And you’re not stupid. This, the way you feel. It’s not stupid, okay?”

You realised he was waiting for you to answer him, so you nodded, chest tight at his earnest words, always trying to make you feel better. He’d once told you when you were both only thirteen, that that was his job and he’d proven it true ever since.

“Yeah, m’sure.” You let your head rest against his, cheek to his chin, day old stubble rough against your skin. “Thanks, Steve.”

A silence swept over you both, not exactly uncomfortable but not an easy one either, not like it usually was. ‘Cause your skirt was hitched up high, the hem of it falling towards the tops of your thighs when you’d bent your knees and sat between Steve’s legs. He’d patted the space there and your body had burned, but you’d obeyed all the same. His thumb was still rubbing circles and your hands lay awkwardly in your lap until finally, finally, Steve took them in his own and placed them flat over your thighs, his bigger ones covering your fingers.

“So you’ve never, ever—?”

“No,” you whispered it back, like a dirty secret. Something to be ashamed about. “Can't even manage it myself… it’s— fuck, I don’t know.” You choked off your own words, heated embarrassment creeping up the back of your neck.

Steve squeezed your hands, gentle, soothing. “S’okay. Do you, uh, do you try? A lot?”

He sounded nervous too and suddenly you were thankful for this position, eyes hidden from each other, knowing his cheeks would be flushed, too pretty to look at. You sucked in a breath and nodded. “Sometimes, yeah. I guess. It’s just— I either get interrupted or it doesn’t feel right and then the times when it does, I just can’t… can’t. You know.”

“Finish?” Steve supplied helpfully.

You nodded again.

“Okay, uh, why don’t you— do you wanna, try? Show me?” You heard him swallow audibly, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat and you felt his jaw tense against your temple, where you were leaning against him.

You stiffened, and Steve felt that too, so he tangled his fingers between your own and used his thumb and yours to skim up and down your legs. You wondered if he noticed how warm you were, if he realised you were running so much hotter than before.

“It’s just me,” he whispered to you, head ducked tucked down so he words fell into the crook of your neck. He sounded so soft, familiar, like the sixteen year old who’d picked you up from your shitty first date and told you that the next boy that hurt you would have to deal with him. “Do you trust me?”

You licked your bottom lip, mouth dry but you made a noise of agreement. “Yeah, I trust you.” You felt his smile, felt the affection ripple through him and back into you, ‘cause you really, really did. More than anyone, you thought.

“We can stop whenever you want, alright?” Steve said and you bobbed your head, suddenly feeling clumsy, fingers too small between his own, legs splayed out like a broken down China doll. You dug your toes into the mattress and breathed out. “Show me.” Steve whispered again. “Show me what you do.”

It took a second, maybe five, for your heart to stop rattling against your chest, for your bones to stop vibrating. But you took one hand from Steve’s and pressed it between your thighs, hidden under your skirt. Your underwear was still very much on and you were unsure how to go about that, so you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to find your clit the best you could under the cotton, shifting your fingers over the fabric.

Then Steve tsked, a soft sound that didn’t come across as reprimanding as it should’ve, but between that and his hand catching yours again, you stopped, unsure.

“You normally just dive right in like that?” Steve murmured, rubbing his thumb over your knuckle. “Christ, you gotta be nicer to yourself, babe, you need to relax more.”

“I do?”

Steve laughed quietly, a huff of spearmint breath falling across your cheek and wasn’t unkind, it didn’t make you shrink like you thought it would’ve. “Well, yeah,” Steve answered. “You gotta warm yourself up, right? Get in the mood. Hasn’t anyone taken their time with you? Made you feel like, uh, like putty?”

“Putty?” Your lips kicked up at the corners, lashes fluttering as your eyes closed, happy to listen to Steve and the smile in his voice. He sounded shy, and it was lovely, it made you feel better, warmer, ready for what was happening.

“Yeah,” he huffed. “You know, all gooey n’shit. Nice. Relaxed.” Steve sucked in a breath and pressed your joined hands to your thigh, his so much wider and covering much more skin. “You’re real cute, babe, someone’s gotta treat you the same way.”

“No,” you shook your head, trying not to sound too sad about it, ‘cause Steve’s hand on your bare skin was starting to make you feel real nice, warm, just like he was describing. Except you were anything but relaxed, heartbeat a livewire racing through your bones, a new pulse thrumming, stomach jumping at each touch. “You think I’m cute?”

You weren’t sure why you asked that, but suddenly, you were desperate to know.

“You kiddin’?” Steve said and you could hear the smile there, the one you knew so well. He leaned in, chin hooked over your shoulder when he felt you settle back against him, body more lax than before. His lips brushed your cheek when he spoke. “You’re the cutest girl in town, d’you not know that?”

You squirmed, too pleased with his comment but embarrassed all the same. Steve always gave you too much attention but it was the way it had always been, a little flirting over the diner table, his hand on the small of your back when you walked through too big crowds, an offered cheek for you to kiss goodbye when he dropped you home after school.

“Shut up,” you whispered, voice thick and quiet and caught in your throat. You didn’t mean that. You didn’t want him to shut up at all. And Steve knew that.

“Now, if you’re the cutest thing in all of Hawkins,” he continued, emboldened by the way you tucked your head into the crook of his neck, letting your fingers go soft between his own. “Don’t you think you gotta be nice to yourself?”

Your breath stuttered and hitched in your chest and despite the nerves that still pinballed around in your stomach, your thighs dropped open a little, the hem of your skirt hitching higher still and Steve swallowed down a curse.

“I don’t think I know how.” It was embarrassing, admitting it, cheeks on fire, nose scrunched even though Steve couldn’t see.

His hands swept up your thighs, taking yours with them, stopping short of creeping under your skirt before retreating back down to your knees. “Like this,” the boy whispered. “See? Nice and sweet. Slow.”

You wanted to let your hands fall away, wanted to feel Steve’s rough fingertips and wide palms span over your skin but when you tried to pull away, Steve only tightened his grip. “Ah, ah, c’mon. You can’t learn if I do it for you.”

There was a whine stuck in your throat; a bratty, moody noise that you didn’t dare let out in fear of being teased by the boy for all of entirety but Steve seemed to sense your frustration anyway.

“C’mon, you got this.” Steve pressed a quick kiss to wherever he could reach, a warm smack of his lips against the skin under your ear, right by your jaw. “Relax, remember?”

So you did, letting out a small sigh before sinking back into him, legs widening and letting Steve drag your hands up and down your thighs, your skin erupting in goosebumps every time you felt a particularly rough graze of Steve’s short nails.

“What d’you think about?” He asked, voice hushed, almost hoarse. It sounded dirty, like a secret you weren’t supposed to tell anyone else about. “When you touch yourself? What d’you think about?”

You pressed your lips together and shrugged, a gasp wrenching out from you when Steve moved your hands inwards, to the softer dough of your thighs, creeping higher and higher until you felt the cotton and lace edge of your underwear against your fingertips.

“I dunno,” your voice didn’t sound like your own. “Someone else, I guess. Someone’s fingers, instead of my own. Being— being kissed and their, their mouth. Lips. Tongues.”

If Steve’s hips twitched up into your own, you were sure you’d imagined it. But he took a second before he answered, nodding so his nose pressed into your cheek, his hair fell over your own.

“S’good,” he agreed, praising you like any teacher would. “What about their mouth, huh? Where d’you want it?”

You squirmed, face on fire, teeth chewing something rotten at your poor bottom lip and when you didn’t answer, Steve took your hand and placed it over your cunt, the cotton there suddenly more damp than it was before. You wanted to throw yourself out the window. Or worse, at Steve.

“Here?” The boy suggested. He wasn’t really touching you, just his hand over your wrist and fingers, guiding, pressing slightly. “Has someone done that to you? Has someone put their mouth here?��

You shook your head, unable to stop the little whine that came out with it, disappointment colouring the sound. Steve tutted, cooing at you with sympathy and he let out a stuttered sigh when you took it upon yourself to press two fingers closer to your clit, seeking out some friction.

“That’s a real shame, you know that?” Steve’s hands left yours, only to grasp your waist and pull you back into him a little firmer and you’d be lying if you didn’t feel him, hard under his jeans, pressed into the bottom of your back.

It only made you press your fingers into yourself harder.

“It is?” You were breathless, each word a huff of air, face screwed up and eyes shut tight as you tried to work out where you wanted your fingers the most.

“Fuck, yeah it’s a shame, babe.” Steve whispered. “Told you, didn’t I? You’re the sweetest girl there is. And someone’s not tasted you? Not told how sweet you really are?” Steve blew out a breath, as if exasperated. “That’s just unfair.”

“Steve.” You weren't sure what you were whining your best friend's name for. For release? Permission? Guidance? All of the above, maybe.

But Steve seemed to know, ‘cause he nudged your hand closer to your cunt, coaxed you into running your fingers over your cotton covered folds. “Yeah?” He asked and his voice was hoarse, a little wrecked sounding. “Ready for more? Feelin’ good?”

You nodded, clumsy, breath coming out a little heavier than before.

Steve let one finger flirt with the edge of your underwear, along the lace trim where your cunt met your thigh and he snapped the elastic against you, feeling brave when you pressed back against him, like you couldn’t be close enough.

“Want these off?” You heard him swallow hard, sounding quieter than before. “Don’t have to, if you don’t want to. We can do whatever—”

You lifted your hips in answer, one hand holding onto Steve’s thigh for support as the other dragged down your underwear and your cheeks cringed with heat as you caught a glimpse of how wet the cotton was. You balled them into your fist, shoving them to the bottom of Steve’s bed and they lay there like a flashing neon sign, all lilac and buttercream coloured flowers, lacy and mortifying.

Your skirt still covered you, hiding a lot from Steve. But the boy could look over your shoulder and see the way your chest heaved, nipples pebbled underneath your T-shirt, the one you’d stolen from him freshman year and made into a crop top. You were all legs, soft thighs, socked feet digging into his duvet, skirt flirting dangerously with all that bare skin underneath. He tried not to rut up into you, but he knew you had to feel him by now, his hard cock pressed against your spine, twitching at every breathy noise you let out.

“What next?” You asked and you sounded desperate, more pent up than you’d ever felt before and you wondered if it was really because you were taking your time with it, if all these slow touches really worked. You wondered if it was Steve. “Should I just—?”

Your fingers dug into your thighs, sitting over your skin alone ‘cause Steve was gripping at his own knees, knuckles white on the denim. “Fuck,” his voice cracked. “Just, uh, do what feels good, yeah?”

You made a sound of protest, frustration spilling up and out of your throat because this is where it went wrong, fingers fumbling, unsure where to touch to be able to coax you over the edge.

“Hey, hey, s’alright,” Steve assured you, whispering again. “Give me your hand.”

You did, without hesitation, and together, with Steve’s fingers twisted between your own, he guided your touch underneath your skirt. You held your breath as you felt your own fingers - and the boy’s - slip between your folds, your legs parting automatically for him. You felt his breath hitch and fall over your cheek as you let out a tiny moan, urging him on, your fingers following his as he swept up and down your cunt, gathering up the slick there before pressing your middle finger to your clit.

“Yeah?” Steve asked and he sounded awed when you cried out, a soft grunt that made him see fucking God. “That good?”

You could barely speak. “Yeah,” you whispered on a breath, head lolling back to rest against his shoulder, giving Steve an unobstructed view down your front, to the way your hands could be seen between your thighs, skirt rucked up around them.

“Atta’ girl, keep doin’ that, okay?”

You did as you were told, adding your pointer finger to the mix, rubbing the two digits over your clit in soft circles, panting every time you felt Steve’s fingers slip between your own. Steve’s free hand was on your waist, a vice-like grip that you weren’t sure he was aware of, his palm on the strip of bare skin between your top and skirt. Every time you let out a shy noise, he squeezed, kneading at the dough there.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, jaw slack as he watched you work at yourself, never letting go of his hand and fuck, fuck, you were so wet, velvet heat under his touch.

“D’you use your fingers?” Steve asked you, lips against your cheek, both of you leaning into each other as if you were unable to help it. “Inside? Do you put your fingers inside yourself?”

Twenty minutes ago, you would’ve died if the boy had asked you such a thing, but now? Now? Now you whined at it, cunt clenching around nothing at the idea of it and you shook your head, temple rubbing against Steve’s cheek in a way that killed him with how fond it was.

“Not really,” you whispered to him, ‘cause even with his fingers slipping over your clit, you were still so shy. “Don’t feel big enough, never- shit - never full enough.”

Steve swore his eyes rolled back into his skull, ‘cause all he could see was white, a blank flash over his vision that felt white hot. He rubbed soothing at your waist, let his fingers span over the width of your side, blunt nails sliding over your ribs. “Poor girl,” he sympathised and he smiled when you whined as he pulled your fingers away. “Shh, gimme a minute, hey? Here, just, try this, huh?”

You didn’t get to ask what he was meaning before the fingers that had been rubbing over your slick skin were in his mouth, two digits pressed to his tongue and Steve sucked. He licked over the pads, most definitely tasting you and you felt his chest rumble with a groan he tried to keep in. And then, as quick as it happened, it was over.

Steve brought your spit slick fingers back between your thighs, nudging the tips of them against your entrance. You keened, hips arching off the bed a little until Steve soothed you back down against him, mouthing over your jaw and cheek in a touch that definitely couldn’t be misconstrued as a kiss.

You sighed as you slid them in, two fingers fucking into yourself as deep as you could manage, slipping in easily with how insanely turned on you were. You hooked them up, like all the articles in the magazines you hid from your parents told you to do, searching for that spot that would apparently make you see stars. But you fell short, fingers not long enough and your clit was aching with neglect.

“Steve,” you felt close to tears, the usual frustration bubbling at the surface of your chest, ready to pop and simmer over. You’d have normally given up by now. “Steve, s’not working.”

“Gotta be patient, babe,” Steve assured you, “gotta be nice to yourself, c’mon, don’t let your head take over.”

But Steve saw the tear that rolled down your cheek and he caught your chin, titling your face towards him as he frowned down at you. You looked wrecked, heartbroken and all pent up, lips red and slick from where you’d chewed at them, eyes all glassy.

He shouldn’t have asked. But he was already in too deep. What does it matter now, right?

Right?

“Want me to help?”

He waited, one second, two, three and then you nodded, relief and disbelief filling his chest all at once. He swallowed back a broken moan and tapped his thumb at your chin, just catching your pouting bottom lip. “You gotta tell me, please?”

“Please, Steve, please. I want you to touch me.”

He’d died. He was dead.

But then you were pulling at his wrist and guiding it back between your legs, your fingers slick from where they’d been inside of yourself and Steve wasn’t sure he was able to handle it. His middle finger nudged up against your entrance and Steve felt it flutter, his eyes closing as he took a deep breath and reminded himself that this was for you, not him.

He was rock fucking hard.

“Ready?” He asked in a last bid for confirmation. You were laying fully against him now, thighs pressed to his, skirt barely covering you and you nodded so furiously that Steve didn’t dare ask you to speak again. “Okay, I’ve got you, alright?”

His finger slid in so easily and you clenched around him, velvet heat that made his heart stutter and his cock kick up against your spine. You immediately felt the difference, the boy’s finger thicker and longer, already reaching parts of you that you’d never felt. You felt like you were going to burst.

“More?” Steve asked and his voice eas shot, eyes closing at the feel of you, your small hand wrapped around his wrist to ensure he wouldn’t stop and Steve wanted to tell you he’d never stop if you didn’t want him to, that he’d do this every fucking day if you’d let him. “Another?”

“Another,” you agreed and god, you weren’t holding back anymore, moans tumbling from your lips when Steve slid another finger in with his first, the feeling of your cunt tightening around him making you both cry out.

Your hips were shifting against him, listing yourself on and off of his fingers and he groaned, stuttered dirty, filthy words into your hair as he let you fuck yourself down onto his didgits. The friction was too much for him, his cock straining in the denim, weeping for release.

“Touch yourself, babe,” he managed to groan out, sighing at the sight of you doing what he told, hand flying to your thighs so you could rub messy, wet fingers over your clit. “That’s it, good girl. Jesus, are you close? I can feel you - fucking hell - I can feel you getting tighter.”

You mumbled something unintelligible, a sob ripping through your chest and Steve decided it wasn’t a good idea to ask, deciding that he needed to get you out of your own head so your body could take over.

“Do you like it when I talk to you?” He asked instead, a whisper against your ear, his breath warm on your neck, his fingers spanning upupup until they grazed the lace of your bra. You rutted against his hand harder, whining when he hit a deep spot inside of you, one that made your vision go blue-white. “You do, don’t you? My girl likes hearing dirty things, right? Like when I asked you if someone had went down on you? If you’d had someone’s tongue here?”

Steve slid his fingers in and out of you a little faster to get his point across, sweating when you moaned his name. His name. Your own fingers were moving with intent now; tight concise circles that were making your toes curl.

“Would you let me do that? Huh?” Steve dared to asked, grinning when you almost ripped the sleeve off his shirt as you grabbed at his arm, lips falling open in a long moan. “Shit, you look so damn pretty, you know that? I could do that for you though, if you wanted.” Steve’s eyes closed for just a second at the thought of it. “Could put my mouth on you, let you know if you’re really as sweet as you look—”

You seized up, body stiffening as you let out a noise Steve would never forget, a breathy moan of his name that he’d think about every time he fisted his own cock. He kept pumping his fingers into you, eyes wide as your own hand faltered and you shook, head slumping back against his shoulder as you decided to hold onto him instead, hands reaching back to grab at his shoulders, his neck, his hair.

Your pussy was a vice around his fingers, filthy, wet sounds filling his bedroom and he was pretty damn sure but he had to ask, he had to know—

“You comin’, babe? Yeah?” You nodded, frantic, eyes slammed shut and nose scrunched up all cute and Steve couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop it. “Fucking hell, oh shit, yeah, there you go, that’s it, that’s it, that’s it—”

He wasn’t even ashamed that he came in his jeans like a teenager, in fact, he was a little insane with it. White spots over his vision as his cock twitched and jumped, letting his hips grind against your ass as you whined, your cunt still fluttering around his fingers as he slowed down the way they pumped in and out of you. He heard you swear when he finally pulled them away, slick with your release, sliding them into his mouth as if hiding the evidence.

Your eyes finally met Steve’s when you turned and flopped onto the bed next to him, mattress shifting as you both panting, chests heaving. He turned to find you already staring, eyes wide and cheeks flushed the prettiest colour, almost matching his own.

“Holy fucking shit,” you managed on a gasp.

“Told you,” he managed to say, fighting to keep the smile of his lips.

“What?” You frowned at him, wondering what on earth he wanted to say to you after that. He still looked like your best friend, still sounded like him too. Maybe just a little more smug. “Told me what?”

Steve took the time to push his finger into his mouth once more, enjoying the way your face burned, lips falling open as you watched, unblinking. He let his tongue wrap around it, chasing what was left of your taste until he let it go with a dirty pop.

“Sweetest girl in this fucking town,” he said.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #Steve Harrington fanfiction #Steve Harrington oneshot

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tallykale · 1 month ago

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episode 19

as you can probably tell, i've thought a lot about what post-canon one would look like in my vision... i've said before that i have issues with straightforward fix-its, and i do genuinely love the tragic open-ended conclusion that the series has, but i... am not immune to playing with characters like dolls LOL

here's some writeups about where everyone is at mentally in these pictures. please please please PLEEEASE feel free to ask me more about this cuz i love talking about my beautiful mind palace

charlotte: somehow the most optimistic person in here, mostly out of necessity. when she died, she saw parker leading her out of a cave as her waiting room and was about to take his hand when airy respawned her, so she has a brief moment of bonding with bryce when he talks about the waiting room and seeing stella. with the knowledge that there is potentially a way to get out (bryce and liam being the proof) and the fear of rotting away again she is by far the most actively motivated to help liam figure out the computer. a lot of her days are spent talking to liam over the mic and writing out the code in the dirt so she can try to understand it. she still has to push against her natural misanthropy (and often shouts at liam or bryce for being fucking stupid and useless) but both working on the code and helping amelia give her something concrete to focus on outside herself. she wants to get home so she can make amends with her friends. charlotte is scared of dying! she's really genuinely horribly scared of dying and has awful vivid nightmares about rotting away. she often pushes amelia into talking about her life which causes some tension, but it's because she really hates seeing amelia lose herself like that - a metaphorical rotting away of the self.

subway seat & atom: not on the same level of pure existential depression as the batch 1 contestants, but they both feel the hopeless mood pretty harshly regardless. subway feels very lonely as the only hidden object still 'awake', and likes to carry whippy creamy around rather than just leave him sitting on the ground constantly. tray is too big and unwieldy for him to do that with, but he 'hangs out' with her anyway, talking to her and whippy creamy in the hopes that it'll get them to want to wake up again. atom doesn't talk much, but he still carries his piece of grass. he's definitely the person who's the least affected by the prospect of being stuck on the plane forever, since he… doesn't really perceive existence in the same way as everyone else? he's an atom. but his time in the competition definitely made him view everyone else as friends, and he feels even more powerless than usual in the face of this incomprehensibly difficult problem.

amelia: falls into total hopelessness when bryce rejoins, basically seeing it as the final sign that they're never going home. still calls everyone their competition names (she actually gets into a big fight with bryce about it lol). she gets really clingy and dependent on bryce when he first comes back but it crashes and burns pretty quickly when, during an argument, bryce tells her how much he wishes he could just go back and never have let liam in and forgot about everything… which really sucks for amelia to hear, given that she's part of that everything. after that, with bryce isolating himself, she's kind of reliant on charlotte to keep her going. she blames liam for airy dying and secretly kind of thinks he killed him but just isn't telling them… she also doesn't really believe there's any way of getting out and is just kind of waiting around to die of, like, old age i guess. after how long she's been here, amelia is convinced that she has nothing to even go back to and frequently forgets details about her life. regularly cries and hates being alone. the shift markings on the side of the water tub have changed from being a way to keep track of time and stay sane to a horrible reminder of how long they've been here and how much longer of an eternity they have before them.

bryce: hates himself and liam and airy and the plane and his entire stupid fucking life. bryce is really, really fucking pissed off at liam for losing the notes and letting texty die and every other mistake he's made, and isn't shy about telling him that. as well as being angry, he's also incredibly miserable, because he was finally starting to turn his life around (he quit drinking after the plane) and now it's all for nothing - and even worse, those 7 months he spent getting better were 7 months he did nothing to help the rest of them, especially amelia. he's horribly guilty about that, and that he didn't tell amelia about the fake votes before he was eliminated… but finds it easier to just let liam take the heat for that one at first. after he fights with amelia about it he becomes a bit of a hermit, hanging out by himself next to the plug, and never responds when liam tries to talk. contemplates suicide regularly but pretty much the only option is drowning himself, and the idea of that still scares him more than staying like this forever. would kill for a beer.

liam: tortured by horrible guilt every day over a million different things. these include getting bryce pulled back into this (plus delayed guilt over getting him for real killed), letting texty die and not saying anything about the charger, not telling amelia that everything was fake, knowing that charlotte is going to die if he doesn't get really smart really fast… he's frequently gripped by fits of rage where he almost smashes the computer and has to hobble around outside with the axe for a while to blow off steam. he has really bad nightmares and dissociative episodes, made worse by the isolation and spending hours in a dark cave. liam really wants to fix things with everyone but genuinely has no idea how to start that conversation. he assumes airy killed himself (and views it as an unforgiveably cowardly move) and directs a lot of resentment towards him. he has a lot of things he wants to say, especially to bryce, but the fact that he cant talk to anybody one on one makes things difficult. spends a lot of time just reading through the code, too afraid to actually make any changes in case everyone explodes, but talking it through with charlotte at least makes him feel like he's doing something. more than he would like to admit, liam catches himself staring at the plane as if it's a simulation or a livestream.

#hfjone #charlotte stern #amelia euler #bryce hansen #liam plecak #hfjone subway seat #hfjone atom #feels wrong to tag whippy creamy and tray but theyre there too.. sort of #my art #kind of proud of these i dunnooooooo i had fun playing with a new brush and light and whatnot. Whatever. Go my scarab

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crinkle-eyed-boo · 1 month ago

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In my early days as a 1D fan, I was a Liam girl until one backstage pic of Louis fonding at Harry as they clutched hands for a meet and greet caused me to permanently imprint on them.

I came into the fandom as a 30-something fan who had been raised by Backstreet Boys and NSYNC, where my two faves were Kevin and J.C.. Naturally, I thought Liam “Daddy Direction” Payne was my guy because that just seemed like the natural progression of my taste. He may not have ultimately been my guy, but I still loved him all the same. I loved his warm brown eyes, his general puppy dog aura, his willingness to put on every single stupid costume that got thrown on stage, his twirly dancing, his obvious love for the other boys, and his beautiful voice.

I’ll always remember having a fucking blast when he played a random solo show at the Beacon in NYC, like three days before Harry played MSG for the first time. It seemed so clear to me that Liam was a bit of a pop star in the wrong time, that he would have thrived if he come up in the heyday of Justin Timberlake’s solo career, rather than 2017/18. I always wanted to like his solo music much more than I ultimately did, though he has some absolute BANGERS that get overshadowed by the success and clearly defined identities of his bandmates. I always WANTED Liam to find his way and hoped that he would because he had so much potential that seemed to be falling by the wayside.

Just last night I was talking about how distressing his situation had become, how alarming I found all the revelations from Maya to be, and how much I did hope that he would get back into treatment to work on himself. I felt empathy for him, as I grew up with an addict and know firsthand how challenging those demons can be and how they never really go away.

It feels incredibly surreal that he’s gone. I keep thinking this is all fake news, you know? Our boy banders aren’t supposed to fucking die. Especially not like this. I hope Liam is finally at peace after this world gave him none.

My heart hurts for his family, his friends, his colleagues, and his fans. It hurts for the boys, now men, who, no matter what the current state of their relationships may have been, lost a brother today.

And oh, how my heart hurts for this fandom, which has been such a place of joy and friendship and creative discovery for me. I truly hope we can all take care of each other for a good while as we process this incredible loss. I’m holding all of you in my heart right now. One Band, One Dream, One Direction ❤️

#RIP Liam #love you all #please everyone take care of yourself

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imaginesbymonika · 3 months ago

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She’s electric | Part 1

Pairing: Liam Gallagher x fem!bassist reader

Plot: Liam’s hatred for Blur runs deep. However, no matter how much he hates them and their stupid music - he cannot seem to hate their bassist.

A/N: i’ve got a disgusting crush on that old man (please don’t tweet him)

(1995, at the after-show party of the Brit Music Awards)

God.

Liam shakes his head in disapproval. Just looking at them made him want to hurl his drink against one of those huge pretentious speakers, the ones blasting nothing but stupid pop music. How the actual fuck did Blur manage to win 4 bloody Brit Awards tonight? His eyes move from Damon’s figure to the woman standing next to him and he brings the beer bottle up to his lips again. Y/N. Fuck. Never in his life did he feel so irritated by a woman.

She’s throwing her head back in laughter and Liam bites his lips in sheer annoyance. He silently observes how she takes a step to the side before walking over to the nearest bar, she says something to the bartender and her index finger goes up to point at something that's written on the chalkboard. Liam takes one final deep breath from his cigarette before ultimately making his way in her direction- his iconic walk and bitter face paint the picture of a man who’s about to show her his absolute worst behavior.

“Congrats on ya’ little bands award.”

“Thanks.”, is all she says as she takes a sip of her drink. Her gaze moves up to meet his. “That’s it? Yer not going to brag about it?” But Y/N merely scoffs:” I’m not like you, I don’t need to rub our success into everyone's faces.” Maybe he would have laughed at that if her words didn’t upset him as much as they did:” Come on. You must be feeling all arrogant about it- getting all the awards us better bands didn’t.”

Y/N chuckles dryly and takes another sip:” But you’re not.” She notices how his cheeks turn red in bitterness. It was almost too easy. “You guys are alright.”

She feels how around her some people are beginning to look their way, after all, it’s not typical to see an Oasis singer talk to a Blur bassist. Everyone is well aware of how the two brothers feel about their rival band.

Y/N takes a pack of cigarettes from her purse and puts one in between her red-painted lips. The anger is practically radiating off of Liam at this point. “Just alright? We’re better than alright. You’re just delusional.”, his angry gaze shifts to the cigarettes. He scoffs again, but can’t help himself:” Can I have one?”

It makes the woman chuckle in response and without letting out another word she hands him the pack and a lighter. She observes him as he takes one out and lights it up. There is a moment of stillness between the two, and when they make eye contact again there’s an emotion in Liam’s eyes that Y/N can’t quite read.

“You know.”, he lets out a sigh that could be perceived as defeat:” You’re a lot more tolerable than I thought you’d be.” It almost makes her laugh:” Am I supposed to say thank you?” Liam rolls his eyes but there is a hint of a smile forming on his lips: “You’re not supposed to say anything, love. I’m being serious. You’re not half as annoying as your little band is.” He exhales the smoke and watches how it vanishes in the air.

“What an honor.”, Y/N says:” The great Liam Gallagher thinks im not entire shite.”

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. But you know we make the better music.”, he takes another drag of his cigarette. Leaning against the bar he orders himself a new beer. “I’ve been trying to talk to Damon for months now, he always brushes me off.”

At that, Liam’s eyes widen and he narrowly leans forward, looking like a shark who smelt fresh blood:” So you agree with me.” The grin is primarily predatory.

“Not entirely.”

“What do you mean, not entirely? Either you agree with me, Princess. Or you don’t.”

“First of all, don’t call me Princess, you arrogant prick.”, her voice is angry, however, Liam catches a glimpse of a tiny grin forming on her features. But it quickly disappears behind the champagne glass:” I am not drunk enough to deal with someone as pissed as you!” “I’m not pissed, Princess. I’m just saying we were robbed.” “Please. You’re so pissed, it’s making me pissed.”

Liam takes a deep breath, almost as if he was trying to steady himself:” I don’t know why I am still talking to you.” At that, Y/N just chuckles drily. Does he really think, that she hasn’t noticed the way he was staring at her all night? “Well, then go. You came to me.”

The singer studies her for a second and opens his mouth to say something in return, but gets cut off by Damon’s voice. He is yelling her name from somewhere and Y/N twists her head to look for him. Once she spots him she sighs and quickly opens her purse:” One last thing before I leave.” She takes out her pen and snatches Liam’s forearm. With one swift movement, she signs her name on his skin:” For our number 1 fan.” She chuckles softly before vanishing into the crowd.

“No, wait.”, Liam calls out but she is already gone. His eyes move down to the writing on his arm, his fingers are softly moving over the ink. He takes another drag of his cigarette and shakes his head in disbelief, however, he can’t shake this new feeling off of him. He was still pissed about her band and their wins. But she… she has a smart mouth, is drop-dead gorgeous, and is a damn good bassist. He hates her already.

An hour later Y/N crosses her arms and places her head on Damon’s shoulders. Currently, Brad Pitt is talking something about something and it is possibly the most monotonous thing in the entire world.

“Who the hell ya’ staring’ at?” Liam can’t help but cringe slightly at the sound of his brother’s voice, who is now standing beside him. “None of your business, mate.”, he mutters, rather angrily. But Noel shakes his head:” Bullshit! I know that look. You ogling the bassist of Blur again, weren’t ya’?” Noel raises an eyebrow:” Thought you hated that band.”

“I do hate that band, she’s just- different.”

“Yeah, different because you think she’s fit, mate.”

Liam’s eyes widen at his brother’s bluntness and he furrows his eyebrows. He suddenly feels extremely exposed. Y/N sighs and lifts her head before scanning the room for the exit sign and quickly making her way toward it. People in the crowd attempt to stop her in hopes of getting to speak to her, but she just brushes them off.

“You’re going after her, or what?”

Liam glances at his brother before lighting up a new cigarette:” What d’ya mean? I’m not going to follow her around like some abandoned puppy. I ain’t going to chase her, you wanker.” Noel laughs at that:” Oh come on. Don’t lie to me, mate. You’re obsessed with her, go on. Follow her.”

Liam swallows thickly. He does want to follow her, there was no denying it. He wants to continue their discussion, listen to her snarky tone, and see that smart mouth in action again. Noel watches how his brother throws the cigarette into the nearest ashtray before wordlessly making his way toward the exit as well.

#oasis #liam gallagher x reader #liam gallagher #noel gallagher #oasis band #oasis x reader #Liam Gallagher imagine #blur

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callsign-rogueone · 4 months ago

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stay

fwb!Liam Mairi x gn!reader words: 1.9k 🏷: no book spoilers. gender neutral reader. mentions of sex but it's purposely left vague, though it's implied that Liam does most of the work there. a bit of miscommunication (because all dragon riders are allergic to talking about their feelings), both of you are in love but neither of you think that the other person wants a relationship, this is the tipping point, Liam is such a cutie baby I love him sm, soft happy ending <3

Liam Mairi is a perfect gentleman, which of course, makes him an excellent lay. He always makes sure that you’re satisfied before he is, always gentle with you and always asking for consent, even if it’s something you’ve done before.

You’d asked him about that once, curious.

“Just because it was okay once doesn’t mean it’s always okay,” he’d answered, a little bashfully. “I’d never want to make you uncomfortable.”

You are never, ever uncomfortable with him. Quite the opposite, actually. He manages to liquefy you every time, to drain every drop of stress from your body and leave you in a soft heap on his mattress, to be scooped up into his lap and molded into a real person again by the gentle pressure of his arms around you, his hand stroking your hair while he murmurs soft assurances that you’re safe and tells you how pretty you are.

Two nights a week, he takes you apart just to put you back together again, making you whole — but it never lasts until morning. Like the fairy tales you'd read as a child — at the stroke of midnight, the magic fades. Only instead of a princess turning back into a housemaid, you go from feeling like the person he treasures most in the world to a complete stranger.

That much isn’t his fault.

You’re in too deep, and you know it. You’ve been over your head for more than a month now — since the first time you hooked up. You’d never felt that good in your life. But for some stupid reason that you can’t even name, after you’d come back down to earth, you decided that you weren’t going to spend the night, that you couldn’t.

And so you never have. You’ve hooked up precisely sixteen times over the last two months, sometimes in your room, sometimes in his, one time in the showers; that had certainly been an experience. But never once have you fallen asleep together.

That’s the one part of your dynamic that you’d never talked about. Everything else required semi-detailed conversations about consent, boundaries, being exclusive (neither of you ever sleep with anyone else, even though you’ve agreed that you’re not exclusive), but you’ve never discussed staying the night. After your vanishing act on night one, he’d assumed that you would never want to stay the night, and that you wouldn’t want him to stay either.

So here you are again, wrapped up in his arms, planning your escape, as if there’s anything you could possibly want more than to remain like this forever.

But it’s not about what you want. Life is never about what you want.

You start to get up to look for your clothes, but he wraps a strong arm around your hips, pulling you back against his chest and nuzzling his nose into your neck with a sleepy whine. “Don’t go yet.”

You laugh softly. “Fine, I’ll stay.”

You feel him still beside you, loosening his grip. “You don’t have to,” he adds quickly. “I understand if you want to leave.”

You roll over, turning to face him. He’s absolutely adorable — hair mussed, cheeks pink with embarrassment as he realizes that he’s implicated himself here, that he’s admitted that he wants you to stay, because he wants more than you’ve been willing to give him.

You’re not supposed to stay. That’s the whole point of friends with benefits. It’s supposed to be strictly transactional — a body for a body, pleasure for pleasure, nothing more. Take what you need and leave.

You’re terrible at this whole thing, both of you.

You’re not supposed to cuddle after, but Liam is too sweet to just abandon you immediately after a roll in the sheets. He always makes sure you’re okay, lets you rest your body against the soft muscle of his chest for a while, until he’s sure that you’re in a good headspace again. But what’s an appropriate amount of aftercare for two people who aren’t in love?

And you definitely aren’t supposed to stay the night.

That’s been the one thing that you do correctly every time. You always duck out after you’ve both caught your breath and made a shameful amount of eye contact, looking at each other, memorizing them — somehow that always feels so much more intimate than the actual sex.

His eyes are bottomless oceans that you’ve been treading water in, but you don’t know how much longer you can go on like this, with no land in sight.

He’s always worried when you leave. To be fair, it isn’t very safe out in the dorm hallways, especially late at night, but in an effort to keep this casual, to keep yourself from drowning, you’d reassured him that you’re both trained fighters, your rooms only are a minute’s walk apart, lit by mage light, and he can see danger coming from a literal mile away with his signet. You’ll both be fine.

And so, whoever came over is the first to leave, getting dressed quietly and heading out with as few words as possible, slipping down the hallway back to their own room, where they’ll shower and get ready for bed, thinking about the other person all the while.

Sometimes, when it’s your bed you’re using, you’ll pretend to be asleep until he leaves — you don’t do goodbyes, because they hurt too much. And in this death trap of a school, saying goodbye to anyone feels like jinxing it, finalizing the end of your relationship and giving Malek permission to take you away forever. You’ve always been a little superstitious like that.

You aren’t great at the friends part either. You don’t interact much during the day. You’re friendly, sure, but you aren’t friends. You get along well whenever you’re grouped up for anything, offering each other a smile and a small wave when your paths cross, but that’s the extent of it.

You can’t help but smile every time you look at him. That should have been a warning sign.

“I do want to stay,” you whisper after what feels like an eternity, looking up into those beautiful blue eyes.

“Okay,” he says shyly.

You cuddle deeper into his side, tucking your head into his neck and closing your eyes, because that’s easier than talking.

Laying with him has always been easy. You fit together like puzzle pieces, interlocking tightly but not too tightly. Always comfortable, never forced.

He wraps his arms around you again, laying a kiss to the top of your head. “Get some sleep,” he encourages.

You wake to bright sunlight hitting your face, and you whine in complaint, turning your head away from the window — into the firm muscle of Liam’s chest.

Oh, shit. Had you fallen asleep on him, trapping him here, and he was too nice to disturb you, to wake you up and kick you out?

No, you remember, this was mutual. You’d done the usual cuddling-and-affirmations thing and then you’d fallen down that slippery slope, somehow agreeing to spend the night.

It’s been years since you last slept a full eight hours straight — you don’t really do that anymore. But you don’t remember waking up in the middle of the night, either. Is he awake? Maybe you can slip away without waking him if you’re quiet and you…

“Morning,” he greets, his voice raspy and low with sleep.

Holy shit, that’s hot. You want to hear that first thing in the morning, every morning.

“Morning,” you respond shyly, as if you aren’t both almost completely naked in his bed.

“You sleep okay? Xaden says I snore, but I don’t believe him.”

“Yeah, I… I slept well. I didn’t hear any snoring. I was totally out.”

“Good.”

Another awkward pause. Time to be brave.

“Liam?” you ask softly, gazing across his shoulders at the beginning of his relic, where it curls over his collarbone. “I don’t know a better way to ask this, but… what are we?”

“What do you want us to be?” he asks carefully. He’s loosened his grip on you again, like he did last night. He’s prepared to rip the bandage off. You should be, too.

You should be a lot of things.

“I asked first,” you say, like a child.

You close your eyes, taking mental inventory of where you’d scattered your clothes last night, and which pieces you can go without if you have to sprint down the hallway to the safety of your own room, should he not tell you what you need to hear.

He takes a breath before he responds — a deep one, that makes your body rise and fall with his. “Last I checked, we’re friends with benefits, but if you wanted to… we could be more than that. Life’s too short to not chase what you want.”

“Is that what you want? More?” you ask in a whisper.

“It is. It has been for a long time now. I thought I was okay with just being fuck buddies, but I care about you, deeply, and I want to be with you all the time — not just in this room, naked.”

You laugh, holding him a little tighter. “I do very much enjoy being in this room with you, naked. But I’d also like to be able to hold your hand in the hallways and go on dates and whatever couples are supposed to do.”

“Yeah?” he asks softly.

You scoot up to be at eye level with him. “Yeah.”

“Good,” he says, swallowing — his eyes not leaving yours.

“You getting all shy on me now, Mairi?” you ask, boldened by the blush on his cheeks. “You certainly weren’t last night.”

He reddens further. “I’m just trying to decide if this is real, or if I’m still dreaming,” he says softly.

That’s damned adorable.

“How about I kiss you to check? That always seems to wake people up in fairy tales.”

“That would be nice.”

“Okay then.”

You lean down, nudging your nose against his for a moment before you lean in, connecting your lips in a lazy kiss.

He sighs softly, bringing a hand up to rest on your back, holding you in place.

You pull back for air after a moment, but keep your foreheads pressed together. “What do you think?” you ask. “Still dreaming?”

“No,” he answers, a little breathless. “Definitely not dreaming.”

“Good.”

Another quiet moment — a comfortable one, this time.

“It’s Saturday,” he says. “We could sleep until noon if we wanted.”

“Start making up for all the times we didn’t actually sleep together.”

He laughs, a warm, low sound like summer thunder from miles away. “Sounds like a plan, then.”

You settle back down against him, fitting yourself under his arm. He pulls you a bit closer, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

Talking feels safer now than it did before, when you were both constantly worrying that anything you said would expose the feelings that you weren’t supposed to have.

You trace your fingers over the smoky pattern winding up his forearm, speaking softly. “I know you must have bad feelings about it, but I’ve always thought it was beautiful.”

“Not all bad,” he says after a moment. “It’s the last piece I have of my mom. She was the one who made the runes that marked us all. They’re supposed to protect us, but I’m not really sure how. I never got to ask.”

“I’m so sorry,” you say quietly, your fingertips stilling.

“I never know how to respond when people say that,” he admits.

“You don’t have to say anything at all,” you tell him, your eyes drifting shut. “We’re good at that.”

He rubs a hand up and down your back gently. “Yeah. We are.”

#liam mairi #liam mairi x reader #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader

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themultifanshipper · 6 months ago

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“You utter cunt!”

“Fuck you!”

That was how karting usually ended when you two were involved. No matter where either of you started on the grid, you and Liam always found a way to crash into each other.

I blacked out, and an hour later this monstrosity was born! Hope you enjoy

Also I used alpha tauri bc i refuse to put Visa Cash Card Paypal App Racing Redbulls in my goddamm fics.

Warnings: gn!reader, rough sex, lots of swearing, rivals to lovers, daddy kink, corruption kink, smidge of angst, like 2 seconds of fluff before it descends into madness

“That was my line!”

“You call that a line? Ha! My blind grandmother can see that’s a shit line!”

And you were only thirteen then. Now you were both in formula 1. But unfortunately, the insults hadn’t matured, and neither had you.

“You absolute wankstain! What the fuck was that?!”

“That was me having to crash into my teammate! Because my teammate is a shit driver who doesn’t leave me any room, you fucking prick!”

“Oh, dear! Looks like the alpha tauri duo are having a trackside screaming match... again.”

Crofty sighed. At this point it was almost a weekly occurrence. You and Liam were bitter rivals on track and had been since you started karting all those years ago. It always ended in a screaming match that usually lasted well into the evening, and sometimes all the way up the corridors of your hotel rooms, and one time, it ended with Liam shoving you into your room and fucking you right there on the carpet.

That was one time. And you and Liam had never talked about it. The next day you’d bickered on the private jet, as per usual, and just like that it was forgotten.

Except it wasn’t, not really.

The problem was that Liam had unknowingly taken your virginity that night. And it was, by default, the best sex you had ever had. But your relationship stayed the same and the two of you never even acknowledged what happened. You weren’t obsessed with the concept of virginity either of course, it was what it was, and he was you first, whatever. But it would be nice if he stopped being such a huge prick, you know?

Then came the end of season celebrations in Abu Dhabi. You’d been drinking heavily to forget this nightmare of a season and the fact that you (just you, not Liam) had essentially been threatened to stop fighting next season or you would be out of a seat faster than you could say ‘hypocrisy’.

You tried your best to avoid him all evening. But he kept appearing in your line of sight, on the dancefloor, getting drinks at the bar, shuffling off to the toilets every now and then. You kept drinking so that your vision would hopefully go so blurry you wouldn’t be able to see him at all, but of course with those drinks came the need to pee.

So, there you were in one of the stalls thinking about the face of the man you were trying hard not to think about. Then, said man walked in, crossed the room and the sound of him undoing his zipper was heard.

You knew it was him from his stupid shoes that you recognised very well, as he had once thrown them at your head. That was an incident worthy of getting fired....

Anyway, for some obscure reason (about 7 tequila cocktails) you thought it was a great idea to voice that thought out loud.

“I never told you, but those are the ugliest shoes on the fucking planet”.

There was a pause as he zipped his fly back up.

“Jesus, are you stalking me now? The fuck are you doing in there?”

“Pissing, obviously”

Another pause.

“Right” he said “anything else you want to tell me? Or can I get back to having fun now?”

You rolled your eyes “Yeah actually, you need to stop crashing into me, dickwad”.

He snorted. “And why the fuck would I do that”.

“Because I’m out of the seat next time we crash, and because you fucking owe me, so please just cool it with the- !”

“Wait, why the fuck do I owe you anything? It’s not my fault you can’t drive!”

“Because you fucking took my virginity Liam!”

Okay maybe you weren’t completely over it.

You could’ve heard a pin drop. You desperately hoped there wasn’t anyone else in the stalls.

“What?!”

You were so embarrassed you tried to get out of answering by flushing the toilet and waiting for him to leave.

Obviously, that didn’t work.

“Unlock the door, please” He sounded almost winded, which confused you so much you actually opened the door. He was leaning against the wall and as his eyes snapped to yours, you could see there were tears in them.

Your bewilderment must have been visible because he immediately wrapped his arms around you in a tight bear hug.

“I’m so sorry you’re first time was like that... I’m so, so sorry...”

You pushed him off enough to be able to breathe again “The sex was great Liam, what the fuck are you sorry for?”

He stroked your hair as he spoke, refusing to meet your eyes. “Because... I thought you hated me so I... Your first time shouldn’t be, you know, hate-sex. I thought that was the only way I would get to do it with you so I- I didn’t know you’d never done it before- it was a spur of the moment thing”.

You were even more confused. “The only way you’d get to do it? What the fuck does that mean?”

He finally looked at you and he seemed so weirdly vulnerable, so heartbroken that your brain started to catch up, and your breath caught in your throat.

“Do you...” your heart was beating fast as you scanned his face for a reaction “like me?”

He had a pained look on his face and just looked down at the floor. He didn’t like you. It went deeper than that.

“Liam look at me” He did. You didn’t know what to say so you just stared at him.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about that night, you know” he said softly.

“Neither have I” you whispered, and your eyes met as he looked at you in shock.

You both moved at the same time, crashing your lips and bodies together as the years of tension finally washed away and you were on the same wavelength for the first time.

As you both caught your breath a minute later, he chuckled. “Come on, let’s get back to the hotel. I owe you a do-over”.

And do-over he did.

As in, he did you, over every surface.

It started out sweet enough. He carried you to the bed, undressed you slowly and took his time fucking you slowly, almost maddeningly so. But you both quickly realised that he’d already corrupted you the first time, and now you liked it rough. So he gave it to you. First he flipped you over on the bed, grabbed your hair and pushed you face down into the sheets as he pounded into you mercilessly from behind, occasionally leaving hand prints on your ass, then he took you standing up against the glass windows, one hand around your throat, the other sneaking down to touch you where you were making a mess of yourself.

“Fuck, you like it like this don’t you? You’re basically dripping onto the carpet”.

Then he flipped you and lifted you up, your legs hooking over his arms as he entered you again, the position giving you no choice but to just take it.

“Yes, take it baby, fuck- so tight around me, take my fucking cock” he growled and bit into your shoulder, making you moan. “You’d take anything I give you right? Such a fucking slut for it my god”

His hips stuttered as he had a thought.

“It’s my fault, isn’t it? My fault that you take it like you were made for it, fuck” his thrusts became even harder as you both felt your highs quickly approaching, your hands were scrambling for purchase on his sweaty shoulders, settling in his hair to give it a sharp tug, his answer was a deep thrust that knocked the breath out of you.

“Fucking made for me. Only I get to see you like this now, don’t I? My little cockslut, all for me. Isn’t that right?”

You nodded quickly, but he made a noise of discontent.

“Words baby, I need words or I won’t let you come. Who do you belong to?”

“You Daddy, please I’m gonna come” you couldn’t help it, the name slipping out as his hips stuttered and he made a punched-out noise.

“Shit- say that again baby, that sounded good”.

You huffed out a whine, now was not the time to be embarrassed “Daddy please, please I need to come so bad”.

He groaned “Okay baby go ahead, come on daddy’s cock, now.”

You came so hard. All over yourself, and it ran down onto his thighs and the feeling of you dripping everywhere sent him over the edge, thrusting a couple more times before stilling, deep inside you as you felt him fill you up.

He carried you like that into the bathroom, setting you down gently in the shower, legs and hips sore from the position and you both spent an eternity in there, soaping each other up and kissing tenderly, trying to make up for lost time.

As you got into bed with him, you checked your phone and saw two things: the alarm for your flight was in 2 hours, and a text that read “does this mean you two will be cooperating from now on?” from your performance engineer.

Your cheeks burned red, she had the room right next door.

#my thots #liam thots #f1 #formula 1 #liam lawson #liam lawson smut #liam lawson x reader #gn reader

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thecapricunt1616 · 4 months ago

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Thinking about College Lip again, genuinely ever since @mouseymilkovich came on the scene I’ve been once again shameless obsessed (Thank you mouse🐁 we say in unison)

TLDR: Once again I haven’t been able to watch shameless in a moment - this is all from my memory & tik tok clips & edits I’ve been obsessively watching that I think lip acts. If it’s not perfectly canon, I’m sorry! Feedback is always greatly appreciated but try to keep it kindly constructive as I’m just a girl in the world already having a hard time and writing is my outlet so - I love feedback and constructive criticism but don’t just say something like “wow that part made me cringe” without adding how I should make it better or something. Sorry for rambling & thank you for listening if you did.

But I’m thinking how pissed he would be if you were good friends/fuck buddies, and he found out that a professor was being creepy with you

(Warnings for BTC: Creepy teachers (power imbalance), Mentions of sexual harassment, Angry!Lip, Drunk Lip )

Okay so I imagine you’re sitting in his dorm one day, talking about the weirdest things that have happened in college. Lip had told you he had fucked one of his professors but called it off, and you laughed -

“No fucking way!!! Professor Simmons literally held me back after class one day and told me if I wanted a better grade on my last essay I could suck his dick!” Shaking your head at the stupid memory and taking a swig of lukewarm beer he had given you hours ago.

“Wait- huh?” He asked, tone now much more serious. You just shrugged, smile fading a bit. Suddenly you felt almost…judged? By the way his lips curled into a bit of a frown when you said that, his brows knitting together in that classic Lip way, ever angry. You’d teased him that he reminded you of the ‘Anger Emotion’ from inside out that you’d taken him to see with Liam over spring break.

“I- I didn’t do it - like- ew!” You laughed nervously, eyes flicking to your lap, cheeks feeling suddenly hot, and your mouth feeling dry. “Hes…so gross- you thought I would like- do that?!” You asked defensively.

“No- what the fuck? Why the fuck would I be questioning you?! That motherfucker is- is married, Tink! And old as fuckin’ dirt!” His voice raises slightly to drive his point home. The use of that nickname, Tink, short for Tinkerbell. He had started calling you it after you wore a dark green mini skirt and brown turtleneck to class one day, the name was quite perfect for you considering your small stature and affinity for short skirts like the cartoon fairy.

You shrugged, picking at your nails and nibbling on the inside of your lip. “I didn’t let ‘em touch me- only you do that. “ you muttered, feeling embarrassed and small now that you felt as if you’d made him worry after you, like he didn’t think you could take care of yourself. He grabbed your chin, making you look at him - his glazed over eyes told you he’d already finished his 7th beer without even having to look at the nightstand.

“Good- cause if he did?” He said softly “I’d fuckin kill em” he assured you, brushing his thumb over your cheek, before pulling you to his chest and wrapping his arms around you, kissing the top of your head.

You sighed softly, nuzzling your face in his neck and inhaling the scent of his spicy cologne, and the stale smell of Marlboro cigarettes that stuck to his skin and clothes permanently. “M’sorry- didn’t mean to make you upset” you said gently, wrapping your leg around his frame and gently kissing his tanned skin, even though he was staunchly Irish - summer did the gallaghers well, maybe not Ian, or Debbie- or, Frannie… but the rest of them, sure.

“What did I say about the sorrys, kid?” He squeezes your ass firmly, before giving you a light spank that caused you to giggle a bit.

“Ok! Ok I’m not sorry, s-“ you stop yourself and he looks down at you with a smirk to which you scrunch your nose and smile big “soooooo not sorry “ you correct yourself and he chuckled, shaking his head and grabbing his beer, finishing it off.

The next time you heard from Lip was the following night, at 4 am. On an unknown number. You woke up in your dorm to your phone ringing and didn’t even bother looking at the name before sliding it to answer, knowing no one in their right mind that didn’t know you would call you so late. “Yeah?” You said groggily into the phone.

“Heyyyyy, Tinker” Lip said into the phone and that woke you up fully.

“Lip- what’s wrong?” You said concerned, knowing he would never be calling you so late unless he was in some kind of trouble.

“I uhhh” he slurred, obviously drunk. “I think I got myself expelled? Dunno…can you pick me up? Just go to my house- tell Fiona I’m locked up. I need 800- she’s gonna give it to you. Make sure you take Ian with you I don’t want you gettin robbed- tell er’ T’take it from the squirrel fund- been stockin’ it f’this shit just in case. ” he explained, of course breaking to hiccup drunkenly.

You quickly stood, pulling sweatpants over your spandex shorts and pulling a hoodie on. “What did you do?! Lip! What the hell how will I survive Trig without you!” You said worriedly, putting on your messenger bag quickly and holding tour pepper spray in one hand ready to pull as you rushed out the door.

“I dunno!! I’ll tutor you, Tink! Just come get me. M’stuck with this guy that smells like a fuckin sewer.” He groaned.

“Of course I’m coming! I’ll see you soon - don’t get yourself shanked!” You hung up, frustratedly beginning your walk to the L

You were shivering by the time you were pounding on the Gallaghers door, finally Fiona opens the door “WHAT?! WHAT WHAT WHAT!!!” She screamed on her way down the stairs, and when she opened the door to see you shivering there in a hoodie and sweatpants in the 30 degree fall weather her expression softened.

“What’s wrong with Lip?” She asked, pulling you inside and grabbing a blanket “Jesus- Tink! Your lips are nearly fuckin blue!” She wrapped you up, taking your trembling hands and pulling them to her lips, warming your icy fingers with her warm breath.

“He- he’s in jail? I think? He said s-something about a fund, squirrel fund? Bail is 800 and he said to- to take Ian so I don’t get robbed for it.” You stuttered due to your teeth chattering, and being catcalled and followed for 2 blocks on your walk to their house.

“Okay- yeah. Fuck. What did he say he did?” She tugs you to the kitchen, pulling an old Twinkie box from under the sink and pulling out a huge wad of cash, beginning to count out $800. Your eyes widened, shrugging and mouth dropping as she shoves it into an old IRS ‘OPEN IMMEDIATELY’ envelope before folding it in half and shoving it in her bra and screaming

“IANNNNNNNNN! IAN! GET UP!! YOUR BROTHER IS IN JAIL!”

You flinched a bit at her sudden outburst, and there is pounding footsteps down the stairs “what did he do?” The redhead asks and Fiona shrugs

“What the fuck did he do, Tink?!” Fiona asks again and you shrugged quickly, shaking your head confused

“He- he said he was gonna be expelled?! I don’t know- I- he just- he called and said to come here and that Ian could protect me- and- and he gets really angry I don’t want him to be angry if you come with us-“

She cuts you off and holds her hand up

“He’s not gonna take it out on you he fuckin knows me. Ian go tell Debbie to watch Liam. I need to find fucking pants” she muttered heading over to the large laundry pile on the kitchen floor and digging through it as Ian raced back upstairs to do what he had been instructed.

Fiona thankfully drove you 3 to the police station, thankful for a warm car instead of taking the late night train. When you got inside the station, she thankfully took over.

“Gallagher? Phillip- Lip- Lip Gallagher- here-“ she drops the envelope in the little box that went behind the window. The woman looks at the three of us, then the envelope, then the computer.

“Phillip?” She repeated, unenthused and Fiona nodded quickly. “That’ll be 800, I’m assuming -“ she picked up the crinkled, (slightly sweat damp envelope) that Fiona had tossed into the box “this-“ she holds it up by her bright red acrylic nails like it was diseased

“S’all there!” Fiona nods and smiles kindly, likely hoping her kind demeanor would cause the woman to take pity on us.

“Let me just- count this” the woman opened her drawer, pulling out a pair of black latex gloves and snapping them over her hands before pulling the envelope open and counting out the cash, popping it in the drawer and printing a ticket. “RON!!!” She screeched.

An overweight, brunette man is startled awake behind her sitting in a rolling chair and jumping slightly when he was called. “Huh?! I’m awake!” He barked defensively. Ian and I look at eachother, with a ‘are they fucking kidding?!’ Look

“Gallagher! Paid bail. Cut ‘em” she said and went back to scrolling on Facebook.

You followed the large man when he beckoned you all, back to a cell where Lip was curled up to himself on the bench, arms crossed over his tummy and head to his knees protectively while he dozed.

“GALLAGHER!” The man barks, causing Lip to jump with a startled snore. When he saw you his expression softened, jumping up and rushing to the bars, reaching for you. You gave him a hug as the oaf got the cell unlocked.

“Quit scarin’ me like this, Lip” you mumbled into his greasy cigarette stale curls.

You got Lip back to the Gallagher house, helping him up the stairs to his room and setting him on the bed. He was utterly exhausted, nearly so drunk he was passed out. So you went down to the kitchen, and made him a double pack of beef ramen and came back upstairs, giving it to him to eat and distract him while you tended to his wounds.

He nearly burnt a hole in his throat wolfing it down, hissing and trying to swat your hands away when you cleaned the beer bottle glass from the gash In his forehead. Through mumbles and coaxing kisses you’d found that he hunted down the same Professor Simmons that beckoned you for a blowie in turn for a better grade - and nearly beat him to death.

After he’d told his wife what he did- she begged him that if they didn’t press charges- she wouldn’t go to the police for the assault and Lip agreed. As awful as it was to have your somewhat situationship bleeding in front of you - it made your clit throb slightly that he went out of his way and nearly ruined his life in your honor. Like some kind of fucking knight in shining Armour.

The next morning, lip woke up to yet another throbbing headache, atop of a dislocated nose, and a nearly bitten through tongue that made him wince when he barely even swallowed. “Open” you beckon gently, already having been awake for hours, changing his bandages and ever-so carefully tending to his wounds.

He doesn’t even try to open his bruised black eye, not even caring to know what happened to him and weakly opens his mouth.

“You gotta learn when to call it quits, Gallagher” you said gently as you placed 3 extra strength Tylenol on his tongue and gave him a mouthful of water to swallow it down.

A/N P2: I know this isn’t my usual MO? I am sorry haha. I wanted to try writing something sweet and angsty. Sorry I just wanted to try something new! LMK if you liked it, xoxo- Capri ❤️

#lip gallagher x you #lip gallagher fanfic #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher smut #lip gallagher #Phillip Gallagher #lip gallagher angst #lip gallagher fluff

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cheriladycl01 · 8 months ago

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Could you do fic for Checo Perez with wife reader? He had some insecurity about his abilities to race against the grid and she just hugged and comforted him. Add something else to it if you want to. Tag me later Thanks!! :))

The pressure is insane… - Sergio Perez x Wife! Reader

Plot: Checo replacing Alex was probably the best thing to happen to him in his Formula One career. However, so much pressure comes from being in that second Red Bull seat, not just the team but the fans too, and Checo doesn’t like the pressure on him.

When Checo came into the seat, and performance wasn’t great, people in the team told him it would be fine and to keep his head up because everyone knew he was getting used to how different the Red Bull Car is thanks to Max’s driving style.

But at it came to his second season, and it didn’t seem like things were improving much, Christian kept talking to him, explaining what was expected of him as if he hadn’t already informed him over 100 times.

He was just struggling with a car that was clearly built for their main driver, which is why Pierre crumbled under pressure and it’s why they couldn’t put up with Alex when he didn’t learn the car quick enough for them.

The gave Checo the benefit of the doubt throughout 2022, but when Red Bulls most dominant season came around it was without a doubt that your husband had to step up.

And in your eyes he had, getting two race wins under his belt, but he wasn’t consistent enough for Christian and it seemed that he wanted Checo to be actually challenging Max more.

It got worse when the Ferrari and McLaren started to beat him despite being in the worse car, and it was deemed a ‘driver issue’

Sergio felt awful, for a man who had been racing for as long as he had, he never felt doubtful of his abilities to put on a show and drive to the best of his ability.

But now, in the Red Bull seat, he actually understood the words ‘under pressure’ because he was under it constantly.

“Baby what’s wrong with you, you’ve been jittery all week” you ask your husband who was currently watching over some of his old races with a notepad.

“Hmmm?” He asks not even throwing a glance in your direction.

You knew he wasn’t listening.

“Well I just think that when aliens invade Earth that we should have a bunker ready and prepared so that you and I can help create a new civilisation after the government kill them all …” you say trying to grab a reaction from him.

“Hmmm yeah that’s really nice” he starts but then he looks up and his head cocks to the side as if his brain just processed the words you said. “Wait what?” He asks.

You chuckle and little bit happy to have his attention.

“I just wanted to see if you were listening, I asked what’s been up with you lately” you say softly, taking a seat next to him, reaching over to grab the remote and pause the race he was observing so his full attention was on you.

“Nothing wrong, I’m fine” he lies.

“Hermoso, we’ve been married for 6 years, I know when somethings up” you smile taking his hand into yours and kissing the back of it softly while watching for his reaction.

“I just … nevermind it’s stupid” he sighs looking down.

“None of your feelings are stupid baby, please let me in” you say calmly.

“I just feel like, I’m so singled out on the grid. You’ve got so many amazing drivers and then there’s me. Lewis is a 7x world champion, and and Max my own team mate has won 2, and he’s probably going to win this year by a landslide and then there’s Fernando again he has two championships, and then you’ve got all this new talent in Lando, and Charles and Carlos and now that Oscar is here, it’s getting tough” he admits and you softly smile at him.

“Where have all these doubts come from honey?” You ask, you knew he didn’t think he was the best driver, but he never once compared his abilities to individual drivers.

“Christian said that if I didn’t improve he’d replace me with Yuki, Liam or Daniel and that i might not even get a AlphaTauri seat as a replacement” he says putting his face in his hands with a soft sigh.

You pull him into a hug in which he nuzzles his head into your neck.

You are an incredible driver, there’s just such an insane amount of talent on the grid right now, you being one of them. World champion or not baby, your still one of only 20 drivers in the world that are here! Your a race winner and I’m so proud of everything you’ve done. You are incredible” you smile wrapping your arms around him while you feel him shake a little, presumably where he’s crying.

“Im just awful at it all. Driving, being a husband … you’ve been asking for a baby for 3 years and I keep telling you no because I’m so career focused but I can’t even seem to be good at that career” he complains and you almost laugh.

“Oh honey, I think you forget you are without a doubt the best thing that’s ever happened to me, child or no child. And where you aren’t ready because your at a point in your career that is crucial, I’ll always understand that darling. You are all I need, you are all I want. And I married you because I’m happy with you” you say tightening your hold on him.

“You know, I would never not be ready to have a kid. If you want one, we can have one. I’d never say no” he argues wiping his eyes and looking at you, only for you to release a breath of relief.

“Thank god, that night in Saudi Arabia really stuck” you admit and he cocks his head to the side not understanding. You take his hand and place it on your stomach, there wasn’t much of a bump, but a slight and minuscule weight gain was there. Enough that when he run his hand over your tummy he could feel it.

“Are you saying?” He asks and you nod.

“I know, I know it’s not the right time because your so stressed and I’ve been so nervous to tell you because I know you’ve had a lot on your plate since being in Red Bull and it was such a shock to me” you start to ramble thinking you should have waited.

“No this is the best news ever! This has made my day, my week, my year even!” He smiles before lifting you up and twirling you round.

“I love you” he says pulling you in for a kiss, happy with life.

And now he didn’t have anything to worry about, as long as he was able to provide for you and your child or children in the future he knew he could handle the pressure because now there was something else riding on it!

A/N: hey guys I didn’t realise tumblr only lets you do 50 tags per post! So I’m not sure what to do about taglist anymore? Any suggestions?

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #sergio perez x you #sergio perez imagine #sergio perez x reader #sergio checo pérez #sergio perez #checo perez #sp11 x reader #sp11 #sp11 x you #sp11 fic

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calp0sa · 3 months ago

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what do you like and dislike about airy?

CRAZY MESSY INFODUMP INCOMING OH LORD

well there’s nothing i truly dislike about airy, because everything about him just makes him who he is. i just wish we got more insight to him as an Actual person rather than his host facade, even though that was sort of the point of one 17-18, i feel like the fact that he’s pretty much a regular ass dude went over most people’s heads (Not mine though because im really smart and could beat albert einstein in a rap battle) i know the mystique is the most prominently interesting aspect of the whole show… but yknowwww it’d be nice to know a little more about him personally considering how we now know he’s far from a one-dimensional character and shouldn’t be taken at face value (i am side eyeing a huge chunk of the one fandom as i say this) now okay if i were to talk about everything i like about airy we’d be here til the next solar eclipse but i’ll try to jot down everything i can. airy, to me, is the most fascinating object show character there is. i swear every time i observe something about him it’s like i’m opening a matryoshka doll as i dissect his character further and further… every rewatch of one i notice something, whether it be minuscule or glaring, there’s always something for me to brutally analyze. see, and here’s where i contradict myself, because while it’s frustrating not having much official trivia on him, i actually quite love how mysterious he is. i love how he seems like he knows a lot more than he lets on. i love how his caginess only sparks more questions. and i love how FESTERED he is. how you can tell there was so much that led up to him being so numb and stagnant… it does nothing but pique my interest. and i love how this festered-ness parallels with the contestants. i can’t help but feel as if the true extent of airy’s suffering was reflected through those on the plane, how the contestants went through so many fluctuant stages of sadness, denial, hopelessness, anger… all in the midst of isolation akin to airy’s forest. it makes me wonder if ONE served as catharsis to airy. not just a purpose or a distraction, but something to spark resonance within a desolate soul. speaking of distraction, it’s really interesting to me how reliant airy is on escapism, and this is most evident in how he literally takes on such a gilded and contrived host persona to the point where it’s difficult for the viewer to discern who he is OUTSIDE of “airy”. big fan of how the show basically tricks us into thinking he’s this ruthless malevolent all powerful entity until it takes us by surprise and reveals that he’s Just Some Guy, and it could’ve been anyone in his place. but this isn’t to defend him… no… airy was definitely a selfish and inconsiderate asshole (sorry yall) he just isn’t as awful as everyone makes him out to be. airy is not evil, nor is he good, he just kind of sucks LOL. and i love him for that honestly! the thing about this is he should’ve stopped and asked himself “what am i going to gain from this” yet he was so absorbed in trying to hoist himself out of that inevitable pit of dread that he did not care if he destroyed everything else in the process (Might i add that this is a huge parallel to liam’s impulsive vengefulness… i swear i could go on and on about how those two are brothers from another mother) another interesting thing about the hosting stage of airy is the chance that he probably did feel some sort of regret. especially after the shock of breaking his face, being confronted by harsh genuine emotions after such a long time… an iota of the pain and fear he assumed was long gone… as well as the crushing reminder that he basically threw himself and all his senses away just for a stupid game. What a loser amirite. even if he had some semblance of a wish to end ONE, he knew he couldn’t. i’d imagine he told himself mockingly “yeaaaa you basically dug yourself into this, you’re not backing out any time soon” (even though he could’ve easily backed out he was just a loser ass COWARD!)

i didn’t know the paragraphs had character limits! interesting. anyway i can’t help but wonder if airy made that effort to take care of liam in an attempt to break the cycle, the cycle of destroying everything else, including your very self, for the purpose of One thing. maybe airy thinks violence and spite is just a huge waste of time yes of course, but i think he understood liam to some extent (remember what i said about resonance 😁😁😁) i just love how everything about airy is so subtle, yet so major, so jarring and confusing yet when you piece it all together it makes such a scary amount of sense. i love making sense of how nonsensical he is. (of course i do. i am possibly the biggest fan of nonsense there is) now i will add a funny little thing i like about him. i like how he’s all impatient and snarky. and i know you’re probably thinking “franklin how in the abraham lincoln’s bootycheek do you think he’s snarky” Listen, it’s really funny once you actually notice it. there were so many instances where he sounded exasperated with the contestants. my personal favorite being

“yes, as long as you are here, you can’t die”

>”WE CANT DIE?”

“Yes… that’s… what i just said ��”

he has this barely noticeable “oh my god can you let me do what i need to do” attitude and it’s SO funny. i like to imagine he rolled his eyes a lot while he was hosting. its really funny to imagine. and its also funny to imagine him smiling like an idiot like he did hosting in one 17. that scene was really cute it makes me want to run into ongoing traffic and get continuously ran over by 12 different semi-trucks. if you ignore how miserable the contestants were (sorry contestants) it’s actually really endearing how excited and eager airy was when he got ideas for challenges. i bet he felt so proud of himself it’s honestly kind of sad. he’s sad. what the hell. he really thought he was the SHIT when he said “riches… immortality… whatever your heart desires 😌” Oh my god he’s so pathetic don’t even get me started MY ONLINE CLASSES ARE STARTING I GOTS TO GO BUT ANYWAY FEEL FREE TO ASK FOR AN ANALYSIS ABOUT LITERALLY ANYTHING AIRY RELATED I HAVE MORE THAN A HUNDRED BIBLES’ WORTH OF SHIT TO SAY ABOUT HIM BYEBYE THANK YOU FOR ASKING THIS

#frank answers a thing #airy hfjone #hfjone #man i am so cringe but so very free

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rou-luxe · 7 months ago

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bro I just had a revelation I don't know if I've been stupid or not yk how elbie and william are friends but that's not really explained

this might get long so it's under the cut

they're both "royals": queen of hearts and evil queen I wonder if there's a deeper reason

but since they're friends, that might be why William lets Elbert carry you out in his path (commence: Elbie commits second male lead 😭😭). but then, wouldn't William ask that of any of his coworkers? doesn't he trust them enough? or maybe since Victor wasn't around he chose the next option?

why is Elbert so obsessed with you during William route (apparently it's because being with William -> MC more happy / smiles -> more beautiful)? there's gotta be another reason other than that. and Elbert and William don't seem to interact that much either. PLEASE. PLEASE CYBIRD. I want to see them talk and drink tea together 🔪🔪

same here for Ellis??? are they just chill calm cuties??? harrison path-ers help me out here???

slightly suggestive up ahead (Alfons)

and then of course there's this 😨 100% assumption but...

Cybird. What do you mean "playmates". why didn't they just say buddies or friends like the other two pairs above... (Alfons has the ability to satisfy all of Liam's curiosities... 😭)

does this mean canon yaoi these two don't seem to interact that much either so what is Cybird yapping about

strange how it's just the alice in wonderland trio that has this "well we don't talk much but we're friends" buddy system. the trio are on friendly terms in general also. maybe they're the one thing holding everyone together /j

roger feels like an honorary member of the briar duo at this point 😭😭

#ikemen villains #ikevil #william rex #elbert greetia #harrison gray #ellis twilight #liam evans #alfons sylvatica #roubrainrot #routheories

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1dcommunityficrecs · 14 days ago

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Rec List: Liam-centric fics

It means the world to me how much y'all SHOWED UP for this list -- I can't express how grateful I am to see the love for Liam. With 29 fics, it is officially the second-largest list we've had all year. It has a wide range of ships, from Ziam or Larry to OT5 or Lilo, as well as genfics. There's also as usual a variety of types of fic -- word counts from under 1,000 words to over 100,000, ratings from General to Explicit, stories from Porn Without Plot to So Much Plot to Both Porn And Plot.

I can't believe it's been a month tomorrow -- it feels like it just happened, and also like it's been forever, and also like it's still a bad dream that isn't quite real. Grief catches you in the strangest places, surprises you when you least expect it. To everyone still trying to wrap their minds around this tragedy, trying to figure out a way forward through it -- I see you, I love you, I'm glad you're here, and I support you in whatever you need.

I promise to never forget Liam's kindness, his generosity, his joy, and his heart. I hope these fics serve as a reminder of everything that he was, and everything he will always be to us.

Light Spills in a Flood by unscattered_horizons (162088, Not Rated, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne)

This is an OT5 + Shawn fic about growing up and into oneself alongside dear friends

Reccer says: This is a tender, thoughtful, meditative fic about love blooming

hold all our secrets by justanothershadeofblue (10000, Explicit, Niall Horan/Zayn Malik/Liam Payne/Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post Warnings: Anger, misogyny, forced closeting.

Post-canon contemporary ABO AU where Liam has been a closeted Alpha for the entirety of the band. He is then outed by a tabloid, and the boys have to come to terms with his secret and how it has shaped their lives.

Reccer says: This one is a little painful in how it goes through each boy’s response to this bombshell, from anger to grief to happiness, including Liam himself. There are five fics in the series, and it ends at a good place, but the author was planning a sixth at the time of Liam’s death. Not an easy read, but a rewarding one -- packs an emotional wallop!

Coconut kiss and a rainbow tail (Italian-language fic) by Sararinaldi87 (Not Rated, Multi)

Louis and Liam are sailing the seas when they shipwreck. Luckily a certain mermaid is there to help...

not even a landslide or riptide could take it all away by we_are_the_same (49177, Mature, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne) – fic post Warnings: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Sextape, Leaked Sextape, Liam Payne getting outed, Depression, Emotional Hurt, Suicidal Thoughts

When Liam gets outed via sextape, his whole world collapses around him. In the midst of all the chaos, an unexpected lifeline appears in the form of a DM from Zayn: If you find yourself needing to escape, go here. Even though they haven’t talked in years, Liam is just desperate enough to go. He doesn’t expect to find himself on a farm in the middle of nowhere, face to face with a man he hasn’t seen in years, but who somehow looks more familiar to him than the face he sees when he looks in the mirror.

Reccer says: I think it's just beautiful. Everyone should read this

I ain’t ever fell from a love like this by beardyboyzx (733, General, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne)

When he looks at the words, after a few seconds, Zayn feels this sort of relief feather-thrum inside of him — a brief excitement grasping him by the neck, gripping hard, as Zayn’s fingers run over the things he’s just written, admiring how they hold the true nature of his yearnings. And this weird ancestral knowledge Zayn’s got ever since he’s met Liam that first time — before One Direction, before X-Factor, when they were just fourteen and chatting awkwardly waiting for a Happy Meal. The stupid knowledge that this is it for him. That Liam is it.

you try to stop it tumbling (but on and on it goes) by We_are_the_same (2715, General, Liam Payne & Harry Styles) – fic post

Harry helps Liam study

Reccer says: Their friendship is very sweet in this

neither wanting more, neither asking why by justanothershadeofblue (40000, Explicit, Niall Horan/Zayn Malik/Liam Payne/Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

OT5 Soulmate AU - none of them expect to be fated into a group soulmate bond upon their 18th birthday. But given that they are, what do they do?

Reccer says: A lovely character study of each individual and their role in the group as the relationship develops. Slow-building romance and smut.

My Light by The_Halcyonic_Lachesist (3528, General, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne)

Liam didn’t know he “swung that way”, until he did. Or, Liam’s journey through his gay awakening.

you came into my life by disgruntledkittenface (57180, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

The Queer Eye firefighter episode, where Liam is the "hero" they're working with, and Louis is his best friend who didn't expect to get therapy along the way to Liam's makeover.

Reccer says: This fic makes me cry the most wholesome healing tears. Everyone is so good and kind, and everyone cares so much about each other. The Fab Five, Louis, his family, Liam, Niall, Nick, everyone is wonderful.

Catching eyes across the room by beardyboyzx (12000, Not Rated, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne)

Zayn is nineteen when he gets his gift. People say that when you get your gift, you can hear the Magic’s voice whisper what it will be to you the morning of your birthday: Zayn has always wondered what Magic sounded like — but most importantly: what will It say to him?

Now I’ve Got You in My Space by unscattered_horizons (159034, Not Rated, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne)

Zayn and Liam are both dance students at Roehampton University in London. They're just starting their third and final year, and they've spent the last two at each other's throats, bickering and grumbling and competing at every opportunity. They have a handful of mutual friends, all of whom are sick of being in the middle of their tension, wishing they would just fuck and get it over with already.

Reccer says: This writer writes with brilliant emotional intelligence—this fic shows both Li & Z as flawed characters (but who are still open to possibility!)

it’s a long shot just to beat these odds by we_are_the_same (13945, Teen, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne) – fic post Warnings: Anxiety

Louis convinces Zayn to partecipate on Dinner Dates, a sort of cooking show mixed with a dating show. He's paired with world-famous popstar Liam Payne, whom Zayn is a big fan of.

Reccer says: Leaving here one of my fav quotes: Liam bites down on his bottom lip, really giving it a proper thought, and Zayn wonders if he knows just how good he looks. Not just right now, with those perfect teeth on show and his hair done up in a simple but elaborate quiff. But in general. He sort of wants to tell him, but he sort of wants to hear Liam’s reasoning more, so he stays quiet, smiling at him when Liam’s eyes meet his. “Well, I liked what you said, on our date. That you’d like to get to know me. The real me, not the version that you’ve seen in magazines or on the red carpet. Remember?”

Remember Me as a Time of Day by justanothershadeofblue (70000, Explicit, Niall Horan/Zayn Malik/Liam Payne/Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post Warnings: discussion of drugs and alcoholism

It's the 20th anniversary of the One Direction hiatus, and the powers that be have decided that it's time for a reunion tour, and ideally, an album. Can five middle-aged lads thrust into a house in the middle of nowhere to make music sort out two decades worth of hurts, grudges, and resentments and come together with enough love to make a show - and a relationship - that works?

Reccer says: Long-form character study of what it would look like for them all to come together and fall in love all over again as real adults with a lot of baggage. A really healing read, in light of the loss of Liam - absolutely my headcanon for what would have been, if they’d been given the chance.

the birth of love like a force of nature by we_are_the_same (22220, Teen, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne) – fic post Warnings: Talks About Sexual Identity

After moving into a new house, Liam decides to introduce himself to the neighbours. The next thing he knows, he’s tied to a chair and threatened by a small army of fairies.

Reccer says: I just love how magical it is, the author is really good at writing fantasy (and writing Liam)

One to Grow On by yeah_alright (3333, Explicit, Louis Tomlinson/Liam Payne) – fic post

Louis is a sex worker and Liam has booked himself a private session for his birthday to finally properly explore his interest in spanking. This is part of a series but you can definitely read it on its own.

Reccer says: Okay it's pure smut but Liam is so endearing and Louis takes great care of him. And it's so hot!

You are the magic in me by beardyboyzx (2882, Not Rated, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne)

Zayn is eight when he meets the Prince for the first time. His dad is being knighted — the King has seen the way he fought to defend his village from the enemies of the Kingdom and has decided to gift him a piece of land and a title.

Reccer says: This author really has a way with words. I enjoy the writing no matter how many times I read it.

That's Happiness To Me by louislittletomlintum (25000, Explicit, Liam Payne/Louis Tomlinson/Zayn Malik) – fic post Warnings: Drugs/alcohol consumption

a porn with plot zouiam uni au with all the predictable antics and multi pov

Reccer says: i'm particularly proud of how i wrote the smut because writing 3somes is a challenge, i'm also quite happy with how the banter between all of the boys came across and it felt special to write a liam that was more similar to how we met him in x-factor when he was a little more uptight

Chew Toys, Table Scraps and Fresh Starts by zmmf (94300, Mature, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne) – fic post

New beginnings, dogs, enemies to friends to lovers

Reccer says: Deep emotions treated patiently and gently. OT5 friendships. A hopeful read.

in the hope of open hands by justanothershadeofblue (21000, Teen, Niall Horan/Zayn Malik/Liam Payne/Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post Warnings: forced closeting; sexism; the ABO equivalent of misogyny; canon-typical sexualization of young Harry

Five times the pack is protective of omega Harry, and one time Harry protects them. Featuring Louis and Liam as alphas, Zayn and Niall as betas, and Harry’s as the band's lone omega. A year and some change in which they’re all falling for each other and not quite getting their shit together (until they do, of course).

Reccer says: A little bit achy but comforting story told in alternating PoVs of the boys finding their footing as a band, and eventually a pack. A couple really good moments between Liam and Harry and Liam and Louis.

A Dim and Airy Spark by green_feelings (50000, Explicit, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne)

Zayn’s worked hard to become C.E.O. of his own music label -- a position that’s rare for omegas in an alpha-dominated world. It’s not always easy to get people’s acceptance and respect, but Zayn makes it work with the help of his best friend and business partner. When they sign new pop sensation Liam Payne, none of that seems to matter anymore and Zayn has to face some of his greatest fears, and open up old wounds. Or, it has taken Zayn ten years building his walls up, but it takes Liam no time to rip them all down.

If you let me be your man by Lightwoodsmagic (5129, Explicit, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne)

Zayn can't help but trail after someone's scent when he starts his heat in the middle of their history exam. The man offers to help Zayn get home safely when he literally runs into him, but Zayn mistakenly thinks it's an offer to help with his heat.

Reccer says: It's from Zayn’s POV, and he is so enamored with Liam (same)

even with our oath by starcarnivals (20648, Teen, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

Liam has a teashop. Thinking that they could be a good match, and sad that thay are both single, he sets up his coworker Louis with his friend Harry. Harry and Louis don't like each other but agree to fake date for Liam's sake, to make Liam happy.

Reccer says: Very cute story, fun banter and music talk, and Liam caring about his friends :)

If it makes you feel alive (it's alright) by Beardyboyzx (18842, Teen, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne) – fic post Warnings: Emotional infidelity, internalized homophobia

Lhen Liam was ten years old, Justin Timberlake released Sexy Back. Liam still doesn't know why, but it felt like a turning point, like something that fixed the ever-pending axis of his existence. or: in the first year of university, Liam learns some things about himself.

Reccer says: It's a beautiful discovery of sexuality

Bradford Bad Birb by teaandtumblr (4700, General, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne)

What if Zayn were a duckling? Liam had never meant to be stalked by a duck, but after it had introduced itself via a meme for god's sake, he didn't really have much of a choice. That and the fact that there's something haunting in its eyes.

No One Like You by myownspark (19924, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

"Where Liam and Niall are art historians discovering the truth about two nineteenth century painters on opposite sides of an artistic divide."

Reccer says: Such a delicate, amazing story. Liam and Niall realise through old letters and paintings by Louis and Harry that the two French artists were lovers, not enemies.

sadness is a little boy looking out the window by we_are_the_same (6477, Teen, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne) – fic post Warnings: Depressed Liam Payne, Suicidal Thoughts, Bullying, Homophobic Language, Homophobia, Depression, References to Depression

Liam is twelve when he receives the key. It’s given to him on his birthday, in a red velvet box, and something about the weight of the box in his palm gives him pause, makes him hold his breath when he unwraps the bow around it. [...] Because this kind of key, it doesn’t just open any door. It reveals what you need most, when you need it most, and it can only be used once.

Reccer says: The angst in it feels so real, so raw

Midnight in Paris by Beardyboyzx (555, General, Liam Payne & Louis Tomlinson) Warnings: Referenced drug use

Q: What is the craziest thing Louis has ever done? A: [...] He left me on my own while I was being arrested nearly by a French policeman [...] or: Liam gets in trouble in Paris.

Reccer says: Poor Liam gets left alone with the police, oh no!

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