#the repetitive never ending circle of life

[greyfics]

entry 8.5: a side-plot in which norm gets the fuck out.

- °•. ✦ .•° -

subject: norm maclean

fic type: smart relatable underdog side character gets spotlight,

word count: 2.85K

inspo: I really just need to see norm gtfo of that vault lol, I feel like he's got a fighting chance you know?

cw: spoilers for fallout season one  

summary: an overseer that is a brain in a vat. a series of experiments concealed behind the front of a subterranean utopia. the convenient relocation of the last of the people norm cared about- the last of the people questioning the fragile reign of the overseers, and what they might be hiding. norm desperately needs to leave, to find his sister- before he becomes just another one of bud's buds..

- °•. ✦ .•° -

"I suggest you wait it out in your father's pod, unless you want to starve to death- not much food in here, except the occasional large bug."

He is frozen. A small, quivering fist slowly slips down a firmly sealed door- were these vaults reinforced havens, or were they preemptive tombs?- the fist unfurls, as the wrist goes limp and the body connected numbs spare for the pitter patter of palpitations spawned from that very realisation.

His face is absent of blood, and despite the fact he has not yet fatalistically marched over to a cryogenic chamber to further bury himself in this pit, the numbness fades to a chill that kicks his feet into a frenzied pacing.

The robo-brain does a slow, awkward 180° twist, "All that is going to do for you is burn valuable energy that I simply don't have to give back to you, Norm. See, I'm sure you know this if you paid attention during your pristine pre-years education programme, but the human body requires-"

"Just shut up for a second." Is the flat-toned, snappy response Norm gives as he rubs his temples, the repetitive sensation a focal point to ground his shaking limbs, to ground a flurry of rarely seen irrational thoughts in that calculating mind.

Right now, it looks as though his only options are slamming himself against the door fruitlessly until he collapses from exhaustion and inevitably dies of dehydration or starvation, or to get into a pod on the other end of the room and pray that somehow, he is woken up- but what then? what would I even have to wake up to? Norm reflects upon the denizens of Vault 33- the way they force a smile and idle onwards so ignorantly; treating murderers as naughty houseguests, ignoring the slow dissimilation of their vault's security, it's vital resources and population becoming more sparse by the week. Even if there was hope brewing for a better future somewhere on the surface, there's no way that help would reach him down here.

Besides, he was just a problem for Vault 33- he always had been. He recalls the bitter comments about his unenthusiastic demeanour- the fearful confusion directed at his monotony- how lonely, how isolating a life down here is as an anomaly of the herd. With him removed from the equation, and Betty able to sleep at night thinking of him not as dead, but simply as in a rather permanent state of sleep, she would have no reason to wake him up- he who might expose the secrets they had desperately tried to keep locked away for so long. He was better left removed from the vault- left down here.

The reminder of his present predicament begins to suffocate him again, as his eyes flit between the walls and his breath picks up pace, the panic attack coming back for a dizzying second wave. Breathe. Breathe- I can't breathe. I'm going to die down here- this place is a big heaping metal tomb and I have to get out- Norm had never felt so overencumbered at the thought of being buried so deep beneath the surface before, but for the first time ever the urge to scratch his way to the surface was overriding in him the fear of the vultures circling above. He thinks about this- pauses his pacing entirely, and thinks some more. The buzz of an idea begins to spark slowly to fruition in Norm's mind.

It was true that it was better for Betty that he be kept somewhere outside of Vault 33- but maybe he'd even less of a threat left somewhere... else outside of 33? Maybe somewhere he could be more useful? He almost leaps from the exhilaration of having any kind of possible plan c at all in this situation- but his temperament keeps him still- and though his lips remain a flat, pursed line, a playful light dances behind the young genius' eyes, "Locking me in here won't stop Vault 33 from falling apart- it will just guarantee it. I'm your solution." He calmly declares- naturally, Bud's first move is to shut him down, but he is prepared for that, "Norman, you know I can't do that- and you really shouldn't worry about Vault 33 anymore, Betty has things completely-"

"-under control? If Betty had things under control, then how and why did a vault dweller manage to break into her office and trick you into letting them into Vault 31?" Bud stammers, juts to one side and then the other as he awkwardly attempts to give some justifiable explanation to Norm's question.

The bot stills, and lets a sigh out of its speakers, "There may be some... complications to the planned course of action- you being here being one of them, I should remind you- but I'm sure Betty will work through them and get everything back to normal soon enough. What good will it do us to send you to the surface? That would mean opening the vault doors, and risking the safety of everyone inside-" Norm shakes his head at this, takes a step towards the bot as he parries back, "-raiders managed to infiltrate our vault through 32 already, and the main vault door was opened twice after that. Do you really think one more time could hurt?"

The little brain in a pot makes an exasperated crying noise, and shakes itself as emphatically as it can, "But what would be the point in that, buddy, if we can just keep you tucked safely away in the most secure vault of the three down here, and... not open the door at all? None of our problems will be solved by another person leaving." A rare, triumphant grin floats onto Norm's face, and Bud makes a reflexive sharp shuffle backwards at the unnatural site, "If we don't replace our water filtration chip, then eventually Vault 33 runs out of water- and if the vault dwellers don't overthrow the overseer and leave by then? Everyone will die.-"

"Oh my god, why did he smile when he said tha-"

"-Just listen. Vault 32's supplies clearly ran out a long time ago, and evidently no-one from Vault 31 was gonna get up for a glass of water during their 200-year long power nap. By the look on Betty's face when she found out, I'm guessing there isn't a back-up." Bud is back to being completely still and silent now. Norm basks in a moment of captured quiet, takes a couple slow steps to steady the nervous shakes as he deployed as much charisma as he was capable, "You could just keep me in here, and let Betty send someone else to the surface for a replacement- but those people? The other dwellers? They're built for vault life- they fit in here-"

He wavers a little, a lump forming in his throat- but digresses, "I don't. I'm not strong- but I'm quick, and I'm smart... and, I might be a coward- or I was, once- but I'm beginning to realise this place is no better than whatever might be waiting up there. Nobody really knows what they're doing- not you, not Betty- maybe not even my dad. And I don't want to keep sitting around waiting to die when I could be doing something."- I could be helping Lucy, I should have- "So send me. I'll go find a replacement. I'll bring it back- and then neither you nor Betty will ever see me again. You'll be solving two problems with one stone."

The brain-in-a-vat that is Bud spends a painfully long time just sitting there and glowing, still taking in all that Norm had argued, malfunct in his dilemma between maintaining protocol or deviating from protocol for the sake of maintaining the protocol, honestly upset that he was having to do any deep deliberation at all regarding what he had been informed would be a rather simple and satisfying job. When he makes his decision, it comes with a disappointed, exasperated breath- and then a slow, clumsy spin once again, as he veers himself back into the door terminus access point.

With a blip and a hiss, the door that Norm had believed not too long ago to have sealed his fate begins to steadily unlock itself once again. He cries out with desperate relief and punches the air, before maintaining his composure and striding over to the door. He gets as close as he can, in case his thankfully not forever-friend decides to change his mind last minute. He hears the awful creaking of the vault door opening ahead, and dashes for it without even bothering to say goodbye to Bud- no time to spare, I need to leave now- Betty might not be so stupid. The door rolls to the left, his feet hardly make a sound as they dance across the metal grated platform to freedom-

And falter, pause, reverse a few steps when the figure of Betty Pearson is revealed but a few seconds later, arms crossed, already waiting for the door to roll back open.

Oh god, I think I'm having a heart attack. I think I might just die right now. I think that might be for the best.

...He does not die, and though he is grateful, he is also mildly disappointed that he still has to face Betty. She remains still, silent- her expression does not reveal much surprise at finding him here, but her stasis demands him to speak. Thinking of all she has done to this vault, and what little good she has done for it, he steels himself, and he glares back at her, his tone assertive as he speaks, "I'm going to the surface, and before you say anything-"

"Yes, you're right. You are going to the surface." She replies, steady and quiet,"I-" he is the one to stammer to a standstill this time, "I... am?" She steps towards him, and it takes all his will not to flinch away as a superficially endearing arm firmly braces around his shoulders, guiding him away from Vault 31, "Although at times I'm sure it seems as though I have... overlooked certain hardships that have come to challenge us all in this vault," -'overlooked' is an understatement, and a pretty ironic thing to do when your job title is overseer- "-but I've simply been thinking about the best options for our future. With our friends and family... rehomed, and our guests taken care of, I think it's time we begin dealing with some of our more long-term problems, too." The phrasing sends a chill across Norm's neck, which flows through the rest of his body as Betty guides him around a corner to bear witness to the remaining dwellers of 33, whooping and clapping in celebration for something he did not yet know.

Look closer. He notices the pause, the way they look past him to the overseer before they burst into their frenzied display- there are a couple eyebrows knitted upwards, the faintest flicker of a tear in the corner of an eye or a puffy redness where tears were wiped away to conceal the evidence of a negative emotion.

Some have slanted postures, clap a little slower- don't meet his gaze; they seem guilty of something, guilty of the relief that their body betrays.

Do they already know I'm leaving? How could they, unless-

"As I was telling everyone, Norm selflessly asked me for permission to go out onto the surface and solve our water chip crisis- of course, we do not often open our vault doors, and I felt too close to the matter to feel capable of making the decision myself- especially given the possibility that opening the vault door might threaten our friends in 31 too! So, I sent Norm to speak with Overseer Askins in Vault 31 to see whether he believes that this brave quest should be allowed. Of course, this affects all of us, too- but after talking it through with everyone, we've all agreed that however sad it will be to see you leave us- for a while, of course- it is definitely for the best."

A couple dwellers nod- some intentionally, some just in a lull of subconscious agreement even as their faces feign sadness. It stings to see how fast they were willing to get rid of him- it stings to be let go without a fight. The 'for a while' is simply salt in the wound; insulting to even pretend at this point that anyone in this cramped little gathering genuinely held any belief he would return.

"So!" The overseer pipes up chipperly once again, "Norm..."-not so enthusiastic-"Did you have a productive meeting with the Overseer? Did he give his consent to your proposed assignment?"

He could expose her right now, dismantle the order they had wrought horror and fear to maintain- but he knows he could not lead them, he knows how secretly glad they are to see him, of all people, sacrificed to the world above- he knows they would not survive up there, nor would they survive down here without a figurehead to fall behind, to hide them from reality. So he speaks a truth of kinds:

"The Overseer permitted my leave after I explained the importance of my departure, and how it was the best course of action." His tone lacks conviction in the vague, avoidant choice of words he spews, but a half-hearted cheer and a series of awkward hugs follows them anyway.

It's all just a big show. I'm starting to think I might be the only normal one here.

- °•. ✦ .•° -

A solemn march through the armoury and pharmacy to (ill)equip Norm for his journey through the wastes precedes a long, awkwardly still and quiet elevator ride towards the surface. Norm is the first to step out, bursting ahead into a fast stroll until he found himself standing at the precipice, waiting for the bridge to bring him to his salvation (or his doom). She gets into place-

and lingers, before she presses the button- they are alone now, and they are not so different, really- she just got better at hiding her discontent, "Norman." her voice is different to how he has ever heard it before- it was just... normal. When the calm and collected persona dropped away, she was the most human-sounding person he had yet encountered in his sheltered life. He turns, just his head- makes a point to pay attention, to show some enthusiasm- "You might think you're different, but... being different to most those folks down there is probably more of a good thing than not. You are extraordinary, never forget that. Even without everything that's happened, I think you were always going to be a problem for us. You've always been good at seeing things other people don't."

She pauses for a moment, deliberating on whether or not to bring something up- she chews her cheek, looks off to the side as she weighs up the power of her words- remembers her job, her duty, and the mask goes back on with a sympathetic smile, "We really do need that water chip- our vault has enough water to last about 150 more days, but after that, we'll be out. If you head north-east, ask around and you'll find a place that used to be a town called Shady Sands; it's not exactly close to here, but if it's any motivation I'd bet that's where your sister, Miss Maclean, will have headed too. When you get to Shady Sands, go directly east- I only know of a few vaults outside of ours, and I hear there's an old vault somewhere in the hills there- Vault 13. I'm sure they'll have a water chip to spare. Get the chip back to us, and you'll be a hero to this vault forever..." She certainly makes it sound appealing, but Norman knows better, "...but I'll never be allowed back inside." He finishes the sentence for her.

She hits the button, and Norm finds himself overcome with trembling uncertainty once again. Was he crazy? Just because he wasn't built for vault life didn't mean he was any more suited for the wastelands just beyond the door- the tomb unseals. Once again, a thought occurs to Norm at an inconvenient time- as he tentatively steps towards the radiating light that blinds him from above, he turns a final time to look at his now-former overseer with a quizzical expression, "Does... does Vault 32 not have a water filtration chip?"

Her smile doesn't change, but it takes a sinister feel as her next cheery words come out, tainted and barbed, "I did say our Vault has 150 days of water left- I'm afraid I can't speak for Vault 32, Overseer Harper would know more about that. Unfortunately, until we have a functioning filtration chip of our own, we won't be able to spare any of our own resources. But I'm sure everything will be just fine."

Norman began to run.

#image in my head of 'pick me! choose me! love me!' but its norm screaming 'pick me! choose me! send me!' so he doesnt become buds new bud #greyfics ✰°.• ➸ [ norman maclean ] #greyfics ✰°.• ➸ [ fallout ] #fallout fanfic #norman maclean fanfic #norm maclean fanfic #fallout tv fanfic #fallout series fanfic #norm maclean #norman maclean #fallout fanfics #fallout 1 reference

[just-miry]

Halloween Look

#me #halloween #grungy girls #justmiry #the repetitive never ending circle of life #makeup #halloween makeup

[dhampling]

one fem!reader, 2k

“Mummy and Daddy’s evening off though, love? Really?”

“Oh shut up, you horrid thing. I know.”

-

astarion is a newly-minted girldad. that's it. that's the plot.

word count: 2,028

an: fluff, fluff n more fluff. no smut this time. soon. promise. parts ONE and TWO linked respectively but can be read alone.

-

“She’s asleep, Astarion!” 

You are wide eyed, furious; speaking in a whispered shout at your husband.

His pale hands flit across the ties of your shirt, frisking every which way they turn. You slap them off like flies on fruit.

“Even more reason to take advantage of the situation, if you ask me.” He murmurs hungrily in your ear, hands now circling down to your waist to tug on your waistband.

“It’s a fine job I didn’t ask you then!” Gritted teeth. Eyes aflame. Cornered against the dresser.

The crib beside your bed holds your infant daughter - skittish and fresh to a world wholly unknown in every sense of the word. She rests rarely and wails often for company in these early months of being alive with you both. Pallid and red-eyed yet beautiful beyond comparison and entirely yours. 

Seeing you together brings him joy unparalleled. 

He has, genuinely; never been prouder of anything of his doing - saving the Sword Coast is a drop in the ocean that is completely and utterly awash with love for your youngling. The mistaken mess of his own bastard elven vampiric genetics now born unto another. This time it would be right. The hunger, the rot; the abuse and neglect, they were hundreds of miles away.

He would make it right. 

But it was already so. She was here, and you all cried together in that dark, sweaty birth chamber. His great guttural sob at her birth, wracked with emotion he never knew he could possibly be permitted to feel on this immortal coil. Your genuinely feral howls of pain turned weeping with pure joy.

Two full days of agony unlike any you’ve ever endured and she had arrived, breathing; wailing; skin of a changeling in birthing viscera and lungs keen to rival any bellow of the Gods.

Astarion weakly clinging to you both; tears salting your lips and wetting her tiny head for hours on end. 

The great weight of another being on your shoulders. His sincere - yet cliche - fervently whispered oath to her just moments after being placed in his arms.

She is home. She is loved beyond any unit of measure. She will want for nothing, and she will never know anguish like that of her parents and their complex lives. No matter who she is or what she becomes, she has two people who are in her corner. She will be fierce if she so desires. Cunning. Witty. Roguish. Barbaric. Horrid. 

It didn’t matter. It never would. 

She was yours, and his; and she would always have a choice.

He had spoken with her for hours, the nurse whispered to inform you once you had awoken from the deepest slumber of your life. Even then when you looked he was hanging over her small form in her cot, running his lithe fingers over her tiny hands and feet in a repetitive soothing pattern. 

When you queried the topic of conversation he simply looked at you with a grin so lovesick it would flip your stomach completely. Butterflies.

-

“We deserve a bit of fun though, darling. Mummy and Daddy’s evening off? No?” 

Astarion pouts, wrapping his arms around you - still pinned against the dresser - and inhaling your scent deeply. 

You return the gesture and cough reactively.

“You stink of Noblestalk. I know your tricks.”

You playfully shove him away and tiptoe from your room to the landing, the pale elf hot on your heels.

“I have never stunk in my life, thank you.” He sulks. 

You pointedly stop to look at him, before picking up a basket of waiting laundry and descending the stairs. He follows.

“I’m trying to fuck you, dear. Don’t make it weird.” He rolls his eyes and huffs. 

You hum. 

“Corpses tend to smell awful.” 

“Warning.”

“You started it.”

“Touché.”

A beat of silence.

“Mummy and Daddy’s evening off though, love? Really?” 

“Oh shut up, you horrid thing. I know.”

“You’re getting rusty.”

He captures you in a kiss as you reach the bottom of the stairs, slow and patient. Holding your free arm to keep you close. 

“Look at me. I’m the epitome of the fatherly jester!’

Waggles his free hand.

‘I have been blessed with brains and humour anew by the birth of our daughter, clearly.’

He grimaces.

‘Not necessarily superior versions of either, but I - am - changed.” 

From the moment of her conception you’d felt it. An old wives’ tale. The night you’d agreed to mother a brood alongside him, you knew she was there. That she was her. That she was brewing as something brilliant deep inside you and nothing would be as it was ever again. 

He’d called it ridiculous, gestured wildly and rolled his eyes to the deepest hells, but a hazardous hope never left them until you’d far missed your bleed and it was confirmed to be true.

From that moment onwards, something shifted even further in Astarion. 

The domestic tether to your townhouse in the city - no longer just a convenience to remain a steady base for you both, but a fundamental part of his scene setting, to plant roots and grow together. Two centuries of rot and abuse, and his reward was finally nearing completion.

His nesting phase began far earlier than yours and with greater intensity than you could’ve matched even without the issue of your later-heaving belly. Entire pinboards tacked with decadent fabric swatches for every occasion - be it swaddling or nursery curtains. Tailor’s tape around his neck each morning and notebook in hand to note your measurements and take inventory of your wardrobe; ensuring you never looked awry or felt anything less than wholly comfortable. 

Because gods forbid ill-fitted clothing stand in the way of you and your brutal vomiting spells, obviously. A pointed click of his tongue as he fixes your sleeve.

In the middle months of your gestation, the typically discerning clientele who visited you and Astarion in your tailor’s store at the dead of night were the first to become privy to the news. Rounder by the week, flushed; brimming with a deep fatigue and yet somehow absolutely aglow.

Children to be fitted for yet another presentation evening placed sleepy hands on your belly with a saccharine softness. Their parents jostle you - sometimes in congratulations, sometimes to whisper in sheer curiosity. Dhampir are a notoriously rare breed, and you’re certain there were rumours of a third party involvement in the process.

‘No, no. We just tried really, really hard.’ You’d smile, as if in a blissful stupor from just the recollection. He’d turn to you with his ridiculously brilliant hearing; needle between teeth, brow raised; lips upturned in a slight quirk. Devilishly handsome, never anything less.

-

You drop the laundry basket in the kitchen corner. A stuffed bear falls from it. Clive.

A pause.

“You never asked what I did with that shirt, you know.”

It takes you a moment to recall which shirt he’s referring to. He sits at the table and watches you lazily.

“Which? The one for Mr. Chugley? I didn’t think it needed much by way of adjustment, at least?”

A stale piece of burnt toast sits on the counter untouched. You bite and chew and bite and chew like a woman who has never once tasted a morsel so divine; so untainted by the evils of hot butter and a filling bronze crunch.

“Oh - Bunt? Gods, no.’

He sips his stone-cold tea. A fresh film wobbles on top.

‘Bunt Chugley.”

A snort of laughter sends it straight back through his nose and out onto the table. You begin to choke on your toast.

“Bunt Chugley.” You giggle, crumbs spilling from your mouth.

Astarion stands to wipe himself down, creasing over with an escalating laughter.

“Bunt Chugley.”

He waggles his hands, eyes heavy lidded with lack of rest. 

He looks purely maniacal.

“That’s- that’s what we should-’

You stop for breath, cackling now; hands over knees for a brief moment.

‘We should call the next one Bunt Chugley.”

He launches into a wheezing fit.

“How- How would that even work, darling? Like Bunt Chugley Ancunín, or- or-”

“No! No, no. Just that. Bunt Chugley.”

You hold both hands to your eye as if framing a canvas, looking through the gap at the ludicrous proposition in front of you. 

He takes a moment to still. Smiles at you dopily.

Crosses the floor and brings both hands down to your waist with a gentle grasp.

“I am so sorry, my love.” He grins and holds his forehead against yours.

You look at him, dazed.

“Hmm?’

He simply looks up. 

A profoundly gut-wrenching wail becomes apparent to you from above. Your face falls.

‘Oh for fuck’s sake, Astarion.”

-

He’s up the stairs before you can comment further, swiftly darting back into your chambers and grinning with an unbridled joy - though, you note, with lack of rest that grin is beginning to look more insane by the hour.

“Sweetheart! My darling girl. Shush now. You’re sounding something absolutely wicked.”

You watch on from the doorway, arms folded; stale toast in hand and jaws meeting in a firm chew.

He’s far too good with her. 

It somewhat surprised you at first just how innately fatherhood came to him, but as he picks her up and cradles her intently it’s as if there are fractures of his own childhood coming back. How he was loved, how he was held. 

A piece of him, now alive and breathing again after all these years of death.  

He coos at her, bouncing her small frame gently in his arms and hushing her with each wail. It takes very little for soft mewls to take their place as she reaches aimlessly in his direction. 

He leans towards her grasping fingers and allows her to take one of his ringlets from the front of his head as he kisses her tummy. She’s enthralled by him; recognises him. She wants to know more of him. 

As he lifts his head her grasp remains firm.

“We have some work to do on your sleight of hand, I think. Not to worry.” 

Ever so gently, he unpicks her fascinated fingers and kisses them all in tow. Her face looks almost ready to crumple before he reaches for one final kiss on the very top of her head.

“There, now. All better. Back to sleep?’

A gurgle. A puzzled blink.

‘Absolutely. Mummy does look particularly radiant today, doesn’t she? I’ll be sure to send your regards.”

He catches the smile on your face. Winks your way.

“You’re getting the baby to flirt on your behalf now?” You tease.

“That’s the lady of the house to you. She was simply passing on her praises.” He whispers as he places her back into her crib and steps back fondly. Sidles over to you as you finish the last bite of toast and pulls you in for a soft kiss.

“Stop playing coy. I know you feel the same way I do.’

He whispers down at you.

‘You want another one, don’t you?’

A kiss on the very top of your head.

“You’re projecting.” You smile.

You can’t deny him for long, he knows this. You don’t particularly want to. 

Since becoming a mother you’ve taken to parenthood almost as naturally as he has; and when the topic has come up since you’ve struggled to say no and mean it.

“Think, though. The sooner we try again, the sooner we can begin building our little mercenary force.” He looks at you with the face of a man who thinks he’s just had a really good idea.

“Oh! Yes! You’ve sold me!’

You pull him into a long kiss, the kind that still makes you swoon after all this time together. He tastes like cold tea and smells so clinical you can’t help but laugh heartily as you pull away.

‘That Noblestalk is getting to me. Have a bath and try again with a little less?”

He scowls before narrowing his eyes in thought.

“Does that mean what I think it means?”

“It just might, my darling dearest.” 

You wink this time.

The bath starts running before you’ve fully made it back down the stairs.

#astarion x reader #dadstarion #i LOVE HIM #my writing #fluff #no smut #yippee #astarion ancunin #afab reader

[andvys]

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 17

Warnings: angst, mentions of unrequited love, mentions of cheating, underaged drinking and drug consumption, break ups, mentions of injuries, mentions of pregnancy (it's just a joke)

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader, Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler, Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: You spend the night before your birthday with Steve and the same night, it takes a turn for him.

Word count: 9.5k

A/N: This chapter made me realize that my writing needs way more improvement, my words are too repetitive, please ignore. Also big shoutout to @hellfire--cult for throwing some really really amazing ideas at me, thank you, love. I appreciate you! @mysticmunson my angel, thank you for always helping me 🤍

series masterlist

-

You missed the warm nights, the transition from winter to spring and spring to summer, where every day it gets warmer and warmer. The sun gets brighter and the flowers adorn every field that you pass by. 

It’s only the end of April but it’s already so warm, this night especially. The breeze you feel on your skin is one that reminds you of a chilly summer night. 

Your eyes are closed, you are leaning back against the railing as you sit outside on your porch steps, waiting for him to come. A year or two ago, you would have waited for him in your room, you would have waited for him to climb through your window and surprise you with a present. 

This year, everything is different. 

You don’t want him to sneak into your room, that would only bring up painful memories again and you have had enough of those in the past few weeks, you know that seeing him tonight, will only make things worse. Still, you can’t help but feel excited to see him. 

You shouldn’t feel this way, you really shouldn’t. 

But you miss him, you miss what you used to have. 

The sound of a car pulling up and the bright headlights make you open your eyes. 

This feels so wrong. To let him back into your life so easily is such a huge mistake. You don’t know what prompted you to say yes to him when he asked you if he could come over the night before your birthday. Maybe it was the wish to uphold the tradition you have had since you were kids or maybe, it was your stupid heart that made you say yes. 

You should have said yes to Eddie when he had asked if you wanted to see a movie with him tonight. You shouldn’t have said yes to him. 

He gets out of the car and his eyes instantly lock with yours, his brows furrow, he is probably wondering why you are outside. There is something in his hand, you can’t make out what it is. 

“Hey,” he says when he walks towards you. 

You force a smile, to match the one on his face. 

“Hi Steve.”

The gravel crunches beneath his nike’s and he looks down, breaking eye contact for a moment. 

You eye him in curiosity. 

Isn’t this weird? 

To do this when he is with someone else? 

Does she know where he is, right now? 

He sits down opposite of you, leaning his back against the other railing. His breathing is a little unsteady and he clears his throat. The porch light is the only thing lighting up the area around you, it’s very dim but you still notice the flushed cheeks. 

“How are you?” He asks, nervously. 

Only as you hear the shakiness in his voice, do you realize just how nervous he actually is. 

You don’t know this side of Steve – you don’t remember ever seeing this side of him. The Steve you once knew was always full of himself, confident, arrogant and cocky. Never nervous. 

You haven’t talked to him in a while. The notes you have passed to each other in class don’t count. 

“I’m okay,” you say as you pull your knees to your chest and wrap your arms around them, “how are you?”

He hesitates and his eyes stray away for a few seconds, he looks down at your hands, staring at your rings. 

You notice the dark circles under his eyes and the way his features are etched with something that reminds you of something that you always used to see on your face whenever you looked at your reflection in the mirror, when he was seeing Nancy. 

“I-I uh, I’m good.” 

It’s a lie.

He usually used to avoid looking into your eyes whenever he lied to you. 

“Are you?” You ask before you can stop the words from spilling. 

When he looks up and you see his eyes again, you notice the frustration behind them. He wears the same look that you used to wear after every fight with him. 

Did they fight? Did she make him cry the way he made you cry? Is that why his eyes are glassy and red rimmed? 

He only nods. 

“It’s almost midnight.”

“Yeah,” you whisper and hold eye contact. 

You hate your birthday, god, you hate it so much. If you could, you would sleep the day away but you can’t.

“What’s that?” You ask, gesturing to the tiny box in his hand, the one he hasn’t let go of since he came here. 

He hesitates when he follows your gaze and looks down at the object in his hand. 

“Uh, it’s your birthday present.”

You raise your brows and you ignore the way your stomach flips at his words. 

“Oh?”

He nods and then scoots closer to you but he doesn’t hand it to you yet. He still holds it tightly. 

“What’s in there?” 

A smile tugs at his lips, “never the patient one, are you?” 

A breathy chuckle falls from your lips and you shake your head, “you know me.” 

His eyes skim over your face, your soft features and the light in your eyes that never died, even after everything he had put you through, the light is still shining brightly even when you can’t see it. 

“Yeah, I do,” he whispers. 

He places his palm on the ground beside you, he is closer now, closer than he had been in a while. His nike’s bump against your black converse, his fingertips graze against yours and the urge to feel his whole hand on top of yours is so strong. 

You look down, eying his knuckles, eyeing the scar. You know where it came from, you still ask, “what’s that?” 

He furrows his brows at your question, then follows your gaze to see what you are looking at. 

“Oh,” he mumbles. 

“I know where you got it from but, how did it happen?” 

You avoid his eyes this time. You never thanked him for what he did. It’s something that 

Steve doesn’t even expect from you, it’s not something you have to thank him for. 

He scratches the back of his neck, “uh well, apparently Ray is a fan of pocket knives,” he laughs. 

Your eyes widen and you stare at him in shock as your heart leaps to your throat. 

“What?” You gasp. 

Eddie told you some things but you know that he left a lot of details out. He didn’t want you to worry. 

Fear flashes in your features and you instinctively reach for his hand. The thought that something worse could have happened to him and to Eddie makes you feel so guilty. 

“It’s fine,” he whispers.

The worry in your eyes makes his heart flutter in his chest. 

You still care about him, you always will. He looks down at your hand, your touch is making his skin tingle and a smile tugs at his lips when he remembers all the times he was able to just take your hand and hold it without a second thought, without having to worry about anything, without having to feel guilty, without feeling like he’s doing some forbidden thing. 

He can’t just hold your hand now, not anymore. 

Not even when she – “No, it’s not! Something worse could’ve happened, Steve–”

“But it didn’t,” he says, interrupting you, “nothing happened to us. We’re fine. Please just, let’s drop this, y/n.”

“But–”

“No buts, I’m not here to talk about that asshole. What’s done is done, let’s leave it in the past, okay?”

Oh, how easy everything could be if that was possible. 

You begrudgingly drop the subject when he keeps interrupting you, not wanting to talk about it. When you try to pull your hand away, he stops you and holds it tighter – you let him. 

You lean your head back and take a good look at him. His hair has grown longer and there is a kindness in his eyes that had been missing in the last few months of your relationship. His touch feels more gentle, his presence makes you feel calm instead of anxious, he seems like the old Steve – the one who still loved you. 

She brought him back, she did something that you could not do. 

You weren’t good enough for that – he did not want to change for you. 

“Does she know that you’re here?”

He tenses up a little and for a moment, he frowns. 

“She wouldn’t care.”

What?

“She wouldn’t care that you’re spending time with your ex girlfriend?” You ask, confused. 

“No,” he says, cringing at the word ‘ex girlfriend’.

You don’t believe it, you can’t believe it, especially not after the way she talked about you after he had dumped you for her. Clearly, she can’t stand you and the thought of her not having a problem with her boyfriend hanging out with you, just seems a little too weird to you.

You would have a problem with that. 

“Okay,” you mumble under your breath. 

“Is everything okay between the two of you?” You ask, still looking down to hide your eyeroll. You don’t really want to hear him talk about his relationship but, you can’t help but feel a little curious. You know that the pain in his eyes isn’t for nothing. 

He hesitates and he tenses up, yet again. You feel it in his touch. 

“Yeah.”

“I know when you’re lying,” you mumble, glancing up at him to see him looking away. 

The chuckle that falls from his lips, isn’t one of amusement. He glances up at the darkening sky.

“I-I just, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“What do you mean?” You frown. 

As he looks back into your eyes, he sees everything that he is looking for – everything that he can never find in her eyes. 

“She is not you.”

For a moment, your heart stops beating, your blood stops pumping, the world stops spinning. Everything stops. 

How can he say such a thing? 

“She’s not the one that I want.”

How can he say this to you after he had told you that he fell in love with her? That he never loved you? 

How can he say this when he looks so happy with her? 

How can he say this when you had asked him to let you go? 

“Steve.”

“I know,” he whispers, frowning at the ground, “I know, I’m sorry. I-I made a mistake and I will regret it for the rest of my life.”

You hate the way your heart flutters despite the pain it’s in, right now. 

You hate the way you wonder about how things could’ve been if you never let him go so easily. 

You hate the way you feel so little again, the way you just let his words get to you, the way they are able to make you feel sad instead of angry. 

You feel like a fool again, the same fool who forgave him over and over again. 

“We both did.” Those three words spill from your lips before you can stop them. 

You feel stupid, you instantly feel so so stupid. You miss the anger, the coldness – the one that never let him back in. 

He looks up, a bewildered look on his face as he stares at you in shock and confusion. 

“What?”

“We both made mistakes.”

He shakes his head, you had never seen such a deep frown in his features, his lips are pursed as he tries to come up with words but he can only stare at you with a questioning look in his eyes. 

You blink, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with the nervous feeling that is building up more and more. 

“I-I just,” you pause to take a deep breath, to give yourself the chance to say something that won’t ruin everything again but, something pushes you to say this, “I keep wondering how things could’ve been if I never let you go, how it would’ve been if I just fought for you.”

He whispers your name as he stares at you with eyes that soften the longer he looks at you. 

“I-I never did, I just let you go. I keep thinking about that night at Tina’s party. You spilled that stupid red wine on you that you didn’t even like.”

Steve nods slowly. He feels the bitterness on his tongue, the taste of the sour wine still lingers when he thinks about how much he had drank from it to gain more courage, to make it easier to lie to you, to break your heart. 

“You told me that you weren’t in love with me anymore and I just, I said ‘okay’ and then I left and that’s all.” 

You look back at him with glossy eyes and a frown on your lips. 

“Don’t put the blame on yourself,” he says in anger for himself, “I was the one who lied to you, I was the one who fucked up. Not you, y/n. Never you.” 

“But–”

“No!” He shakes his head, “stop it, where’s this even coming from?”

You shrug and it only confuses him further. 

“Would you have stayed with me if I didn’t let you go?” You ask, “if I fought for you?”

He feels ashamed, he feels guilty and so horrible. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, “I would have stayed with you.” Because this is what he wanted. He wanted you to fight for him, he wanted you to make him stay. 

You know that he is honest and it breaks your heart again. 

“But you shouldn’t have, it wasn’t your job to fight for me. I should have fought for you. You should’ve been the one to leave, not me.”

“What?”

“I was a fucking asshole, y/n. I was an asshole to you, every day of our relationship, I kept fucking up, over and over again and you tolerated it, you never left me. You never got mad at me, you never said anything rude, you never did anything bad, you were – fuck, you were perfect, you are perfect,” he holds your hand tighter.

The tear that rolls down your cheek is quickly wiped away with his thumb.

“And I’m sorry, I am so fucking sorry for what I did to you.” 

He hates the way your eyes continue to well up with tears. He hates the way your bottom lip quivers as you try to not break down. He hates the way you are still hurting because of him. 

“Steve,” you whisper, not wanting to hear his apologies anymore. 

He shakes his head, stubbornly. 

“I’m not just saying sorry for leaving you, for choosing her over you. It’s not just that.”

You sniffle quietly and you press your knees to your chest. Your hand is still in his and you don’t make any moves to pull it away. 

“I’m sorry that I acted like I wasn’t interested in the things you loved doing. I’m sorry that I didn’t show you how much I really loved you. I’m sorry that I didn’t hold you enough, that I didn’t kiss you the way you should have been kissed, that I didn’t take care of you.” 

You start crying before you can stop yourself from doing so. 

“I should have held you that night. God, I hate myself for what I did to you that night. You cried a-and I-I didn’t do anything, I just listened to you cry.”

You close your eyes when your vision blurs. Your heart drops to your stomach and a sick feeling rushes through you. 

You didn’t know that he was awake, you always thought that he fell asleep before you broke down. But he was awake and he heard you. He was awake and he listened to your cries, he just listened and kept his back turned to you when you needed him to just fucking hold you. 

Steve watches the tears rolling down your cheeks, one after the other. 

Back then, he could’ve just pulled you into his arms. He could’ve hugged you, he could’ve held you but he never did – now he wants to so badly but now, he can’t. 

He sees how much you are struggling, he sees how hurt you still are. All these months, he thought that you had moved on, that you had left him in the past, that you had forgotten about the pain. But he was so wrong about everything. 

You have not moved on, you have not left him in the past and you especially, have not forgotten about the pain that he had put you through. 

The girl he knew is still in there just like the boy you once knew is still in him. 

You both changed but, you are also both still the same. 

“I should have given you the locket,” he whispers as he turns your hand around and places the little box into your palm, “I shouldn’t have given you the fucking bracelet that you never wanted.”

To see you cry will always hurt. To know that he is to blame for your pain, will always make him hate himself. To see the way you look at him with so much sadness and still so much love in your eyes will always make his chest burn with regret. 

Your brows are pulled together, your lips are parted and you look down at the box with big eyes. 

You pull your hand away from his and you wipe your tears before you open it after a moment of hesitation. A tear drops on the beautiful locket that you have fallen in love with a year back. 

A present that would have brought you joy back then, only makes you sad now. 

He could’ve seen a smile on your face. He could’ve seen happiness in your eyes. He could’ve heard you squeal in excitement. 

He could’ve. 

You stare at it, a minute passes and then another, you stare at it in silence. 

“I-I didn’t put anything in there,” he mumbles, pointing to the locket, “I know you always wanted a picture of us in there but uh – I figured you wouldn’t want that anymore.” 

You take it out of the box, the heart shaped locket is engraved with little flowers – it’s beautiful. Despite the sadness and the anger that is buried deep somewhere, you smile. 

It’s something that Steve did not expect. The thought of gifting you the little piece that you have wanted for so long after he left made him anxious, it was a last minute decision – this was not the gift he wanted to give you but it’s something that he found when he took his room apart while searching for a box to put the original gift in. This is what you wanted. 

You wanted it for your last birthday but instead he put a bracelet around your wrist, one that you did not wish for. You still loved it, you still smiled brightly and stared at it as though it was the prettiest thing you had ever seen. 

He bought the locket three days before he left you, he intended to give it to you after Halloween but it all went wrong. 

Everything went wrong after that night. 

He chose her and you chose to act like he didn’t exist anymore which is something he isn’t mad at anymore, you should have done worse. 

You gave him the cold shoulder, the glares, the snarky replies whenever he talked to you, whether it was about the essay you had worked on together or something else. You were mean, dismissive and cold. It went on like that for two months until that night when you had parted ways after the party at Jimmy’s place. After that you just seemed unbothered by his presence, like he didn’t matter anymore.

Now you are showing him a side that he does not deserve to see – the vulnerable, loving side that he only got when you were still his. 

He hates that you think that you should have fought for him. He never deserved it. He never deserved you. 

He prefers it when you hate him – he deserves that more than your love. 

You are silent for the longest time, just staring at the locket in your hand and he watches you with a bitter taste on his tongue and a deep sadness in his eyes. 

“Thank you, Stevie.”

It’s been a long time since you called him that. 

You lift your head and turn to look at him, your eyes meet and he smiles. 

“You’re welcome, y/n.”

The smile that you give him makes him realize just how much he truly misses you. 

He misses the sound of your giggle, he misses the way your eyes lit up when you saw him, he misses the way you would smile into the kisses, he misses the way it feels to hold you, he misses being with you. God, he misses you. 

You look down and with a heavy sigh, you push yourself up, “I-I should go inside.”

The disappointment that rushes through him is deep, he doesn’t want this to end, he doesn’t want to say goodbye again, he doesn’t want to go back to a love that is forced. 

“Yeah,” he breathes, getting up as well. 

For a moment, you stand in front of each other, not moving, not looking away from one another. His hands itch for your touch and you long to feel his arms around you. 

Should you tell him how much you miss him? 

Should you hug him?

Should you tell him how he haunts you in your memories? 

His hair looks soft beneath the dim porch light, his eyes even softer as he stares at you, his lips – stop. You curse at yourself for letting your mind go there. He is not yours, he belongs to someone else. 

Steve sees the way you look at him; it’s still the same. 

And that little moment is enough for him to make a decision. 

“Goodbye,” you whisper. 

He hesitates. 

Once again, he finds himself here, not wanting to say goodbye to you.

“Goodbye.”

You tear your eyes away from him, you look down and walk towards your door. You lift your hand, reaching for the doorknob when you feel his fingers closing in around your wrist. 

“Hey,” he says softly. 

You’re met with a smile when you look back again. 

“Happy birthday, dolly.”

A breathy chuckle falls from your lips and you smile, “thank you.”

Last year he would have kissed you. 

This year he can’t even hug you.

You turn back around and he watches you hesitate, his hand is still holding your wrist and you turn to him once again. You let go of his hand and you lift the sleeve of your sweatshirt to show him something. 

The dainty pearls around your wrist make his eyes widen. 

“I love the bracelet, by the way,” you say with a smile before you walk into your house, leaving him standing on your porch. 

The warmth in his stomach is only there because of you, because of the love you still got for him – and even if you had no love for him anymore, he would still feel it. You could break his heart into a million pieces and Steve Harrington would still love you more than anything else in this world. 

He can push you out of his life, he can try to fall in love with someone else, he can replace you with another girl but no one will ever be you. 

No one will ever make him feel the things that you make him feel. No one can make his heart race the way you do. No one can make him feel so safe and loved despite the distance, no one but you. 

It’s always you, it’s always been you, it’ll always be you. 

There is no point to be with someone he can never love the way he loves you. There is no point in being with someone who could never love him the way you loved him.

It’s all just pointless, everything that has happened since Halloween night is pointless. 

His mind is filled with thoughts, ones that keep him so distracted that he doesn’t even notice that the light in his bedroom is on. Only when he steps into his room and he notices his girlfriend sitting on his bed, does he realize that he is not alone tonight, like he wanted to be. 

He instantly notices the frown on her face, the crossed arms and a look of anger in her eyes.

“Nance,” he mumbles with furrowed brows, confused by her presence. 

He takes a look around his room to find it a mess, messier than it was before. Books, clothes and notes are scattered all over the carpet, an open box lying on the floor, pictures of you and him spilling out of it. Your green scrunchie from cheer practice lying on the sweater that belongs to him, one that he had put into the box because it was basically yours, it smelled like you, it probably still does. 

Realization floods through him, but there is no ounce of fear inside of him. He isn’t scared of what is about to happen.

Nancy is holding one of the many notes and she looks at him in disbelief, scoffing as she holds it up for him to see. 

“I’ll throw it away later, huh?” She asks, mocking him. 

He doesn’t have to take a closer look to know which note it is. It’s the one she found in his car a few months ago, the one he promised to throw away.

He doesn’t know what to say so he just stands there and looks at her, trying to figure out what she is feeling right now. 

She is not hurt, he knows she isn’t, just angry. 

Her eyes have strayed away from him just a few weeks after he left you for her. The moment Jonathan stepped into her life, her heart was no longer his, she gave it to her supposed new friend. 

He saw the stolen glances, the lingering touches. He knew about the secret meetups, he knew about what she did when they had decided on taking a break. But, he never said anything, he never did anything about it. He tolerated it because he thought that he deserved it. 

She did the same thing that he did to you, just so much worse. At least, he had never slept with anyone else, he had never kissed anyone else. 

Everything that she did in the course of their relationship is something that he was afraid of you doing to him. He was stupid for even thinking that. You would never do that to him. 

“I wish I could say that I’m surprised,” Nancy mumbles, throwing the note on the ground, “but I’m not.” 

Nancy isn’t blind and she isn’t stupid either, she always knew where his mind was at when he was with her, when he kissed her, when he touched her, when he slept with her. He was thinking about you, all the time. 

When she came over tonight, she didn’t expect to walk into an empty house or the mess that he had left in his room. She waited and waited and he didn’t come so she decided to keep herself busy. She began to clean his room, she organized his desk, dusted his furniture and put away his clean sweaters into the closet when she had found that box. Normally, she wouldn’t have opened it but curiosity got the best of her and now she feels relieved that she had done it, despite the sinking feeling in her stomach. 

Steve is calm, that’s something he had never been when he had gotten into fights with you. 

“Are you not gonna say anything?” 

Steve walks further into the room, he looks down at the things that belong to you, the things that he should’ve never put away in the first place. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Nancy.”

She tilts her head as she looks up at him, “you lied to me.” 

He nods. He lifts his hand and runs it through his hair. 

“Yeah, I did,” he admits, “I lied to you.” 

He lied when he said that he moved on from you. He lied when he told her that he loves her. He lied so many times and still, he tried to be good for her because he really wanted to try and be with her. 

“Do you love her?” She asks, already knowing the answer. 

Steve doesn’t even hesitate, he is done lying.  

“Yes.”

Hurt flashes in her eyes and he doesn’t even understand why – he is not the one that she wants. 

“Was it all just a lie then?” She asks, throwing her hands up. 

He shakes his head. No. It wasn’t all a lie, only his feelings, they were a lie, his love for her, that was a lie. 

He likes her, he always did. He liked spending time with her, he liked taking her out on dates, he liked studying with her and taking her to the movies afterwards but that’s all it was, he liked it. 

“No.” 

“God,” she breathes, “you’re so full of shit, Steve.” 

Her eyes that held pain and disbelief are now filled with anger and rage. 

“It wasn’t a lie?” She asks, stepping closer to him. 

As he looks down at her, he notices that he isn’t scared of what she is about to say. He isn’t scared that the relationship will be ruined after what words will spill from her mouth. He isn’t scared of what he will feel once she’s gone because, even when she leaves, his heart won’t be broken. 

No one can break his heart, no one but you. 

“No, I really liked you, Nancy.” 

She nods, her eyes widen and she purses her lips as she looks at him through her lashes- angrily. 

“Liked,” she says with such distaste in her voice. She takes a look around the messy room, she takes a look at the things on the ground, your things. “This is such bullshit.” 

Steve tenses up at her words, a cold shiver runs down his spine as he looks at her. 

“Why did you – why did we even get together?” 

He doesn’t know, he won’t be able to give her an answer, he doesn’t even have it himself. 

“Why did you leave her when you clearly still loved her?” She asks, raising her voice as she begins to pace around his room, kicking away the book that once belonged to you, one that he never gave back. “Why did you lie to me and say that you didn’t love her?”

He closes his eyes and clenches his jaw. 

“Why did you tell me that you love me when it was all bullshit?” Nancy asks and suddenly halts in her tracks when she realizes that she did just the same. She told him that she loved him when her heart was somewhere else. “You know what, this is all bullshit.” 

“Nance,” Steve mumbles as he opens his eyes. He looks down at the ground. He can’t stand to hear these words again, it will always take him back to the night in your room, when he had almost kissed you, when he told you that he still loves you. 

“No!” 

She turns around to face him, she points her finger at him. 

“Let’s not fight.” He raises his hands up, trying to get her to calm down. “I don’t–”

“This whole relationship was bullshit, Steve! W-We kept acting like we’re in love when we–”

“When we aren’t in love?” He asks calmly, eyeing her slumped shoulders and the defeat in her eyes when she realizes that there is no use to fight. 

She doesn’t want to admit it, still worried about hurting him when she knows that no one could hurt him, no one but you. She looks at him, she takes in the sight of him. He is calm, even after what he found out a few days back. 

Suddenly, Nancy feels like a hypocrite for doing this to him. For taking his room apart, for getting upset over your stuff in his closet, for confronting him like this, for yelling at him when she was the one who got caught kissing someone else – she got caught by him and unlike her, he didn’t get mad, he just accepted it and then acted like nothing happened. 

Just like you always did. 

“Where were you tonight?” 

He doesn’t know why she is asking him that, they both know that this is the end. 

“I was with y/n. Her birthday is tomorrow. We have always spent the night before together, ever since we were little kids.” 

She raises her brows and nods, still feeling bitter about it, despite everything. 

“And you?” He asks, tilting his head, “where have you been? I dropped by your house earlier tonight and you weren’t home. Where were you?” 

Once again, she breaks eye contact, too ashamed to give him the real answer. 

Steve can tell the truth now. She can’t. 

But he is done with this, with everything. 

He sighs and he walks closer to her. 

Nancy crosses her arms over her chest, she bites down on her lip nervously. 

She is struggling to tell him the truth but he wants her to know that it’s okay. 

“Nancy, look at me.” 

He takes her hand in his, ignoring the way it feels so wrong to hold hers after yours. 

“Please.”

She looks up at him. 

Blue eyes filled with guilt meet the warm hazel ones, the one filled with sadness but also with calmness. 

“I know what happened with you and Jonathan, back in december,” he mumbles, trying not to roll his eyes.

“Steve..”

“It’s okay, Nance,” he whispers, squeezing her hand, “it’s okay.” 

“You should be with him.” 

Her brows snap together, her lips part in surprise. She blinks, staring up at him with confusion in her eyes. 

“We’re not right for each other,” he whispers, “you love him and I love her – and I can’t be with her but you can be with him.” 

Her eyes soften and the tension slowly leaves her body. She still feels guilty, for more than one reason. 

“It’s enough if one of us is miserable,” Steve says, trying to crack a joke. 

The smile on her face is forced. 

“We both know that this isn’t working, Nance. We keep pretending, we keep lying to each other, we keep acting like we’re happy with each other when we’re not. This needs to stop.” 

Her eyes well up with tears but she agrees with him. 

“Yeah,” she whispers and slowly removes her hand from his. 

“So this is it?” She asks, lifting one shoulder as she gives him a look of uncertainty. 

“Yes,” he nods, “this is it.”

“Okay,” she whispers. 

Both of them felt it coming. It’s been tense between them for weeks now, ever since the night you had called him.

When he and Eddie went after Ray and he walked out of the fight with injuries, with bruises on his temple and his knuckles, he had to lie to her to avoid the truth. She didn’t believe him when he said that a few guys from the basketball team had attacked him so she kept pressing him for answers, she wanted the truth, the truth that she never got. 

To this day, she doesn’t know what really happened. 

That put another dent into their relationship. 

But her lies were so much bigger and crueler than his. 

Still, he tried. He took her out on more dates than usual but both of them forced their happiness, their love and even their smiles. It was all forced. 

A heavy sigh falls from her lips, she wipes away the tear that fell down her cheek. 

“I-I guess I’m gonna go.”

He nods. 

They both take one final look at each other. Both of them knew that this would happen but neither of them thought that it would happen this soon. 

“I’ll drive you home.”

She shakes her head, “I took my mom’s car, didn’t you see it in the driveway?” She asks. 

“Oh,” he scratches the back of his neck. He didn’t see it, he didn’t really notice anything, his mind was with you, “right.” 

“Yeah, uh.. I guess I’ll see you around?” 

“Yeah, see you around.” 

The moment she leaves and he hears the front door slamming, he feels like a heavy weight has been lifted off his shoulders but at the same time, he feels this grief inside of him because he knows that now, he is truly all alone. 

His parents are gone. 

Tommy is gone. 

You are gone. 

And now, she is gone too and there is no one he can distract himself with anymore.

He is all on his own now. 

He drops down on his bed and he looks at the mess in his room. He stares at your things. Something shiny that glistens beneath the light in his room catches his attention. He leans down to pick it up. It’s your hair pin, the one that you wore on your birthday last year. 

He feels the coil in his throat, the sickening feeling when he thinks about what happened when he came back to you after he left you all alone on your birthday. 

He drank at Tina’s party, he drank so much, he was miserable without you, he was angry at himself for the way he treated you, for the way he had been treating you for weeks prior to your birthday. 

He didn’t party, he didn’t dance, he didn’t laugh, he didn’t even spend time with Tommy. He only drank until the bitter taste of whiskey made him feel sick and long for you. Without saying goodbye to his friends, he left and walked across town to your place. 

It was 11pm by the time he got there, he sneaked into your room to find you in the same state as him. You were sitting on your floor with a half empty bottle of whiskey, you were crying and staring blankly at the TV screen. 

“You gotta stop leaving your window open,” he said, startling you. 

Your head snapped towards him, your glossy eyes widened and you instantly put the bottle down, you jumped up. 

You stood there and stared at him with tears rolling down your cheeks. 

“I-I always leave it open for you,” you said with a shaky voice.

It was his fault. 

He hurt you on your birthday and he came over to fix it but he only made it worse. 

He kissed you. He kissed you so deeply and passionately the way he had never usually done anymore. He took your clothes off and you helped him out of his, before you both made your way over to your bed. 

He kissed all over your face, he kissed your neck, your chest. 

He intertwined your fingers together. 

He praised you. 

He told you how much he loved you. 

He made love to you that night – it was soft, sweet and perfect. And he didn’t realize just how much it was hurting you that he was doing that while he was drunk, while you were both drunk. That he was showing you a vulnerable and loving side after all the alcohol he consumed. That he was giving you something that he never gave you while sober. 

He gave you everything in that moment and then, he took it all away again when he pushed you off of him after you tried to lay your head on his chest. He pushed you off and he didn’t bother to look at you, he didn’t bother to look at the shocked and hurt look in your eyes when he turned his back to you. 

He pushed your hand off when you tried to hug him once again. 

He pushed you away twice. 

“Steve,” you whispered with a shaky voice. He knew you were on the verge of tears, he knew you were about to cry. 

You touched his arm, softly, carefully. 

“Don’t.” Is all he said to you as he shrugged your hand off. 

He heard your sniffle and the rustling of the sheets as you pulled away from him. You turned away from him too and you waited, you waited until you thought that he had fallen asleep before you broke down again that night. 

You tried to be quiet but you couldn’t, you cried. 

You cried and he did nothing. He just laid there, blinking away his own tears as he looked out the window, asking himself why he couldn’t just hold you. He listened to you cry and he did nothing, not even when his mind was screaming at him to just turn around and pull you into his arms. 

When your sniffles died down and he was sure that you had cried yourself to sleep, he did something that he couldn’t do while you were still awake. 

He turned around and he wrapped his arm around you.

-

“Are you ever gonna tell me where you’re taking me?” 

Eddie shakes his head, flashing you a smile. 

“Nope.” 

You chuckle and lean back, you look out the window. 

Eddie doesn’t know what day it is and you feel relieved about it. You will forever continue to be dramatic about your birthday, you like to pretend that this day doesn’t exist – which is impossible considering your family and friends know about it. 

“Are you hungry?” Eddie asks, “cause I’m hungry.” 

You hesitate and Eddie narrows his eyes to look at you. You lean forward, turning the volume up when your favorite Metallica song comes on. He knows what you are trying to do.

“I ate earlier.” 

“Ah, what did you eat, sweetheart?” 

Birthday cake. Your mom made it. 

“Toast.”

“That’s all?” He gasps. 

“It’s only 6 in the evening!” 

“Yeah and you only had breakfast!” 

“I wasn’t hungry.”

“Y/n,” he sighs. 

“Eddie,” you sigh, giving him a sweet smile. 

A look of disapproval crosses his face, he shakes his head at you. 

“I’m gonna make you dinner.” 

You snort when you look out the window. You are far from the trailer park and from your house. He picked you up in the afternoon and took you to the movies the way he wanted to the night before. 

He didn’t ask what you did last night and he didn’t ask where you had gotten the necklace from, the one that is now around your neck. 

He knows everything without having to ask and you don’t even know that he is aware of things that you are trying to keep a secret. 

When Eddie pulls up to the quarry, you look at him in confusion, “uh the quarry?” You ask, “what are we doing here?” 

You’d hung out at Lovers Lake, Skull rock, Lake Jordan and even at the hidden lake in the woods but you had never come out here. 

As you look around, you wonder why you haven’t been here before. It’s quiet with no people around, it’s a beautiful spot to come out here whenever you need a moment to yourself. 

The sun is shining down on the blue water, it looks good enough to jump in but it’s still not warm enough to take a swim.  

“Well, it’s about time we find new hangout spots!” He says with a grin. He turns off the engine and it falls silent between the two of you when the music stops playing. 

“Ready to get high, sweetheart?” 

You chuckle, “yes.”

He gets out of the van and you follow suit. Smoothing down your dress, you reach for your jacket before you close the door. 

Eddie walks around the van, bowing down before you, he offers you his hand. 

Giggling, you shake your head as you place your hand in his. 

“Dork.” 

He gives you a proud smirk as he pulls you closer to him, he raises your hand towards his lips and places a kiss on your knuckles. 

“Your dork,” he winks. 

You can’t help but laugh, unaware of the blush on your cheeks. 

“Definitely a dork,” you giggle, “a cute dork.”

Eddie wraps his arm around your shoulder, “come on.” 

The confused look on your face makes him smile smugly. That smile should have been enough for you to know. 

You look around, there is nothing but rocks, trees and the huge lake in front of you. Not a single bench in sight, nothing to sit down on but the hard concrete floor, “are we not gonna smoke in the back of your van?” You ask, “where are we supposed to sit?” 

There is an innocent look on his face but his eyes are filled with mischief. 

Maybe he does know about your birthday. Maybe he is mad at you for keeping it a secret. Maybe he is gonna push you into the water for not telling him – that thought makes you want to laugh. Eddie would never do that. 

“You’re not gonna push me into the water are you?” You joke. 

You can’t help but smile at the sound of his laughter and at the way his eyes shine so beautifully when he looks down at you. His curls aren’t as messy as they usually are, he is wearing a new shirt and a new cologne. 

It makes your stomach flip – you don’t know why. 

“You smell good.”

“Oh yeah?” He smirks despite the pounding in his chest. 

You nod. 

“New cologne?” 

“Mhmm.” 

“I like it.”

“You do, huh?” 

“Yes,” you smile. 

The look in his eyes suddenly makes you nervous, you have to look down to avoid the fluttering in your stomach. 

He leads you down to the little bay, one that is surrounded by beautiful pine trees and a secret camping place. He smirks at the sight in front of him and glances down at you to see you still looking down at your shoes, just as you’re about to lift your head up, he grabs you and pulls you against him, holding both hands in front of your eyes. 

“Eddie?” You ask, chuckling. 

He leans his chin on your shoulder and pulls your hair back, “not gonna lie, I’m a little hurt you didn’t tell me.”

You frown, “w-what?”

“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” he whispers and removes his hands again to reveal his little surprise. 

Your eyes widen, your jaw drops as you look around in confusion and surprise. 

There is a campfire, logs surrounding it, a boombox perched on one of the tree trunks. Coolers and snacks, along with a birthday cake that Robin is holding up with a grin on her face. 

Your friends are here, well, most of them. 

Heather, Chrissy and Robin are standing next to each other looking at you in excitement. Gareth, Jeff and Grant are wearing party hats, the sight of them makes you giggle. 

“Surprise!” 

“Happy birthday!” 

“Oh my god, are you kidding?” You laugh, clapping your hands together. 

“Happy birthday!” Chrissy squeals, being the first to run towards you and pull you into a tight hug. “I’ve been waiting for this all day!” 

You wrap your arms around her, “thank you, Chris,” you giggle, closing your eyes as you hug her back just as tight. Heather joins the two of you, hugging you from behind, she kisses your cheek. 

“Happy birthday, babe,” she grins as though she hasn’t been the first to call this morning, pulling you out of your deep slumber. 

“Can I join you girls?” Gareth asks, wiggling his brows at Heather who flips him off. 

“No boys in a girls group hug,” Chrissy says to him. 

“I can’t wait to give you my present, y/n!” Jeff grins as he is the next to hug you. 

“What did you get her, Jeff?” Gareth asks, “a poster of Eddie?” 

Grant bursts into laughter and so does Gareth, proud of his own joke. 

Eddie rolls his eyes with a blush on his cheeks. 

“C’mere, birthday girl!” Robin says to you, stealing you from Jeff, she kisses your cheek, “I can’t believe you thought that you could keep this from us!” 

“I can’t believe you guys are throwing a party for me,” you say, blushing. 

“That was Eddie’s idea,” she smiles, winking at you. 

Huffing, you turn away from her to hide the flustered look on your face. Eddie stands there with a smile, watching you interact with your friends before your attention strays back to him and your soft eyes lock with his. 

“Let’s party, guys!” Gareth claps his hands together, walking away from the group. 

Grant walks over to the boom box to put on some music. Jeff gives Eddie a sheepish smile, “I’ll get the drinks.”

��I’ll help!” Heather says, following him. 

That only leaves Robin and Chrissy who are still looking between you and Eddie before they look at one another. Robin smiles down at the blonde, “wanna help?” She asks, wanting to give the two of you some privacy. 

Chrissy’s brows furrow, she stares up at the tall girl. 

“With the drinks, I-I mean,” Robin mumbles. 

“Oh!” Chrissy giggles, “yeah, let’s go.” 

You and Eddie don’t notice the two blushing girls, you are too busy looking at each other.

“How did you know that it’s my birthday?” 

“I asked your mom,” he responds, quirking a brow as he looks up at the sky, “like, back in december.” 

Your eyes soften. 

He asked your mom about your birthday?

“Eddie,” you whisper, unable to stop yourself from throwing your arms around him. You lay your head on his warm chest, “you are the sweetest.”

His chest rumbles as he laughs at your words, hugging you tightly. 

“That title belongs to you.” 

“You didn’t have to do all this,” you mumble into his chest, “not for me.”

Eddie frowns at your words and he squeezes your arms. There is nothing that he wouldn’t do for you. 

“Sweetheart, you’re the only one I’d do this for,” he whispers before he places a kiss on the top of your head. 

You lift your head up and you look into his eyes with a smile, “thank you, Eddie.”

“You’re welcome.” He tucks a loose strand behind your ear. “I got something for you.”

“More?” You ask surprised. 

He chuckles, “yeah, come on,” he whispers. 

You follow him without question, letting him lead you down to the water for a little more privacy. 

The sound of music fills the air, drowning out the voice of the crickets and your friends chatter.

“You’re spoiling me today,” you giggle. 

“Gotta spoil my best friend,” he winks at you before he takes both of your hands and turns you around so you’re both facing each other again. “I got a feeling that your friends won’t let me have a moment with you alone so,” he pauses as he lets go of one of your hands, he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a little bag, one that is in colorful wrapping paper, “you’re getting this now.”

“Another birthday present?” 

“Of course,” he chuckles, “I’ve only been waiting for months to give it to you,” he says dramatically with an eyeroll. 

“Months?” You gasp. 

“Yeah, months!” 

You giggle, looking down at the little present in your hands. You unwrap it quickly and eagerly. 

Eddie laughs but watches you in anticipation. 

You scrunch up the wrapping paper and push it into his hands, making him laugh again. He stuffs it back inside of his leather jacket. 

You open the bag and gasp, “oh my god!” You squeal, jumping in excitement, “no way, Eddie!” 

You reach for the ring. The skull ring that you have seen in the window at the Gothic shop that you passed by when you spent a weekend in Indianapolis, back in February. 

“Where’s the other one?” You ask, knowing that it’s a set. 

He grins at you, motioning you to put the ring on your finger before he picks the matching one out of his pocket, showing it to you. “I’ve been waiting to finally wear it!” 

“Put it on!” 

He chuckles at your excitement, unable to fight the grin off of his face, he puts the ring on his finger and holds his hand out to you. 

“We’re matching!” You smile as you eye the ring on yours and his finger, “I love it so much, Eddie!” 

“That makes me happy, sweetheart.” 

He might not be able to give you expensive lockets or bracelets but, he still gets to make you smile and that is enough, for now. 

You cup his cheeks and stand on your tiptoes to give him a kiss on his cheek. 

His cheeks heat up at the feeling of your lips on his skin. 

“Thank you,” you whisper again. 

He can’t help but place a kiss on your cheek as well, making you giggle again. Neither of you notice the flash of the camera going off.

You are happy, you are smiling and this is all he wanted to see. He wanted to see you happy, especially tonight. After all your horrible birthdays, he wanted to give you one that you can look back on and smile instead of thinking of it with a heavy feeling in your chest. 

So he tries to make it as memorable as possible so it may be able to put a shadow over all the bad ones that you have had. 

And the night is perfect, this birthday is perfect. 

You laugh with your friends, you share a joint and you get tipsy from all the mixed drinks. You make s’mores and listen to your favorite songs. 

You unwrap the presents your friends had gotten you – including Dustin’s present who wasn’t allowed to this party. He of course got you a Hellfire shirt, the very persistent boy has been trying to get you to join their club for months now. 

And when it’s time for your cake, you can’t help but giggle when the guys sing out of chorus. 

“Who made this cake?” You ask after blowing out the candles. 

“Uh, the store!” Robin says, sheepishly as she gives you a crooked grin. 

“I tried baking one myself,” Eddie says next to you, “I almost ended up without a home.” 

“Wait what?” You ask, laughing but holding your hand to your chest, giving him a pout. He even tried to bake a cake for you. 

“I’m surprised you had a fire extinguisher at your place,” Robin jokes. 

Eddie clutches his chest, giving her a glare, “I’m insulted, Buckley.”

“You could live with me,” you giggle, leaning your head on his shoulder. 

He looks down at you with a smile while everyone else shares a look. 

Chrissy, who has a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, looks at Robin, who sits back down next to Gareth. Feeling eyes on her, she lifts her head to catch the pretty cheerleader staring at her. 

It’s dark out and the only light surrounding the group is the campfire. That is enough to make the red cheeks very visible, on both girls. 

Jeff glances at the matching rings on yours and Eddie’s hands.

“Nice rings, why didn’t you invite us to the wedding?” He asks, wiggling his brows at the two of you. 

“Did the invitation get lost in the mail?” Eddie chuckles, “sorry about that.” 

Gareth gasps, clutching his beer tightly to his chest, “you’re not pregnant with a Munson baby, are you y/n?” He smirks. 

You put your hand on your stomach, “oh yes, I’m having quadruplets!” 

“Oh my god, y/n!” Heather snorts, “stop joking about it or you’re actually getting them someday!” 

Eddie wraps his arm around your shoulder, “yeah so? We’re having our own band, the new Corroded Coffin.”

“No!” Grant almost yells. 

You and Eddie laugh at his sudden outburst. 

Chrissy and Robin fade out the conversation around them, their eyes are locked and the only sounds they hear is the crackling of the fire and their pounding hearts. 

As they are unable to keep their eyes off of each other, you and Eddie are unable to move away from one another. 

He puts a blanket around you when the night gets colder and you still scoot closer to him, reaching for his hand in search of more warmth and when he kisses the top of your head, a new pair of eyes catches sight of you with him.  

Steve didn’t plan to show up at your party. 

Despite how well things had gone between the two of you the night before, he still didn’t want to intrude, knowing that he isn’t welcome here. 

But he wanted to see you, even if just from afar, he wanted to see you and make sure that you are having a nice time, that you are having a better birthday, a better night than you have had in the year before. 

So, he showed up at your party. 

But he did not expect to see you in Eddie’s arms – not like this. 

He sees you smile and even though it breaks his heart to see you with him, he can walk away with a calm feeling in his chest because he gets to know that this night won't end for you in tears this time.

But for him, it does. 

next chapter

-

tagging friends & mutuals!

@mysticmunson @taintedcigs @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @screammunson @take-everything-you-can @trashmouth-richie @xxhellfiregirlxx @nemesis729 @somethingvicked @sherrylyn628 @chrissymjstan

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #stranger things angst

[mrsaltieri-real]

First Love, Familiar Love (Billy Loomis x Fem!AFAB!Reader)

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: language, smut, oral, (fem receiving) fingering, p in v, creampie, cheating, (kinda) first love, semi-public sex, light dirty talk, pre-established toxic relationship.

A/N: I’m so happy to have (finally) written my first full length Billy Loomis fic! I’ve done a lot of Ethan and a fuck ton of Mickey, how dare I have taken so long to write for the fine as fuck OG! Going to dabble in some poly!Ghostface soon which I’m very excited about but for now, sit back, relax and I hope you enjoy!

@darklylucid I have a feeling your Billy loving self will get a kick outta this for sure ;)

You’d never given much thought to relationships since your last. The thought of never having another first filled you with an undeniable sense of unease. No more first kisses, first date, first fuck, what was the point?

Why commit yourself to a long life of repetition when you could simply carry on having firsts? Especially when you couldn’t have the person you’d already had your firsts with anymore.

Billy was someone you hadn’t paid much attention to, not since the two of you had ended your very brief yet even more intense relationship a few years back.

The two of you were young, stupid and each other's firsts. It wasn’t a healthy relationship by any means, and it ended as such. Even though you knew it was definitely for the best, you knew there was a part of you that didn’t think it was over. Not yet.

He was hot, undoubtedly having grown into himself over the years when you’d stopped paying attention, but he had also grown more serious. He constantly looked like he was deep in thought, gnawing on the tip of his pen in class whilst clearly not paying attention on the few occasions you’d find your eyes drifting over to him, seeing him completely lost in his own mind.

You didn’t run in the same social circle anymore, inside of school or out. Although that being the case, your friend and colleague at the video store, Randy most certainly did.

It never made much sense as to why Randy would hang around with the likes of Billy Loomis. Other than their shared affiliation of horror movies, they seemed to merely tolerate each other, if that. You were met with the angry rambling of what Billy had done that day from Randy, listening to the boy curse about how much of an asshole he was.

How could you possibly begin to forget about Billy when he was brought up practically all of the time?

“If he’s so much of an asshole, stop hanging out with the guy.” You’d suggested after a particularly long rant from Randy about him, mindlessly drumming your fingers on the counter.

Randy scoffed, pulling the red vine he was chewing on out of his mouth before replying, “I’ve been friends with the rest of them for years, I’m not just gonna stop hanging out with them because Billy Loomis is a fucking asshole.”

You rolled your eyes, sarcastically holding up your hands in surrender. “Fine, fine, whatever. You go home and chill the hell out, I’ll close up.”

Randy hopped down from the register, patting you on the shoulder as you said goodbye.

Being here by yourself was always better anyway. You liked to clean and organize, finding order in the never ending chaos, but it never surprised you just how messy the store would get by the time closing rolled around. The popcorn machine Randy had recommended to the manager like an idiot needed a thorough deep cleaning, kernels were scattered everywhere, tapes were placed in the wrong section, some of them somehow seemed to be missing altogether.

Fucking mahem.

You heard the tingling of the bell above the door as it swung open. “Sorry, we’re closed,” you called out, not bothering to look up from your sweeping.

The door clicked closed quietly and you briefly paused before glancing up.

Billy stood leaning against the counter, his fingers drumming lightly against the withered old wood. He was quite clearly relishing in your confused expression as you looked back at him with cautious eyes.

“Hey… Billy.” You said, eyeing him briefly. “Randy’s gone home.”

“Oh, I know. I was waiting for him to leave.” Billy picked up a tape that was laying beside him, flipping it over to read the cover.

Your confusion and curiosity continued to grow, but it turned into annoyance when you realised you’d actually have to continue to talk to him.

“That’s kinda creepy.” You muttered, letting the broom rest against a glass case. “We’re closed.” You said again, pointing at the clock.

He didn’t look at it, his eyes flickering up from the case to favour resting on you instead.

“Are you fucking him?”

You looked at him, eyebrows arching a fraction. “Am I fucking who?”

“Randy.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that burst through your lips, shaking your head in disbelief as you grabbed the broom again. You’d forgotten the fucking nerve of this guy. “Go home, Billy.”

You heard the clatter of the tape hit the counter as he began to stride toward you. “So, you are?”

“Yeah, I’m not dignifying that with a response.” He stopped about a foot away, his hand resting on the freshly cleaned glass display with all the rare tapes. “Can you, like, not? I just cleaned that.” You sighed, stepping forward to slap his hand away.

He didn’t move as you did so, seeming to find your reaction more funny than anything. “You haven’t changed much.” He commented, bringing his free hand up to swipe some loose hair out of his face.

You ignored his comment, looking up at him and feeling nothing but irritation. “Billy, what do you want, seriously? Because the sooner I clean up here, the sooner I can go home.”

Billy shrugged, drumming his fingers against the glass. “I don’t know, I was walking home, saw Randy leave, noticed you were by yourself. Thought you’d appreciate the company.”

“Mmhm. Sure.” You sighed, moving to step around him and deciding to just act like he wasn’t there. That’s when it hit you, the all too familiar scent of his cologne. It smelled exactly like the one you’d gotten him for his birthday a couple of years back. The smell rekindled the brief yet fond memories you’d had with him and it made your heart skip a beat.

Billy had noticed your pause and his face turned from indifferent to slightly concerned. He said your name, tilting his head down to look at you.

You looked up at him, blinking a few times before shaking your head. “Go home, Billy.” You said again, though your voice wasn’t anywhere near as confident.

“I miss you.”

Those three words made you flinch, your grip on the handle of the broom tightening. You didn’t want him to miss you, you didn’t want him to be thinking about you. Didn’t he have a girlfriend now?

I asked him as much and he half smiled, shaking his head. “Sidney? Nah, I’m seeing her, sure, but it’s not… like that.”

“Oh, so your girlfriend isn’t putting out so you thought you’d pop along and see if I would?” Billy seemed to ignore you, his eyes trailing across your body. You felt your cheeks heat up as he did, those annoyingly magnetic brown eyes felt like they were boring straight into your damn soul.

“No, like I said I was walking home and saw you by yourself.” His smile grew a touch, watching your face for any kind of reaction.

Liar. But why did you find yourself falling for it?

“I’m not fucking Randy.” You said quietly. He finally looked into your eyes, the half smile turning into a grin. “Oh, I know. But I needed to try and start a conversation with you somehow, didn’t I?“

You caught yourself smiling as you shook your head. “Asshole.”

Billy chuckled as he brought up his hand, letting his fingers glide across your cheekbone. “Missed you.” He said again, his voice much softer this time without a hint of teasing.

Why were you falling for this crap? Was it because he was your first? First fucking everything? Probably. But you caught yourself not caring as you leaned into his warm touch, letting the familiarity wash over you entirely.

“Missed you.” You echoed softly.

His smell was intoxicating, familiar. Who cares if you’d hardly spoken to him in years? Who cares that it took you this long to get over him entirely.

His lips touched yours before you finished your train of thought. Comfortable. Familiar. You felt yourself melt into it, your fingers curling around the soft material of his plaid shirt as you pulled yourself closer to him, his thumb still gently grazing your cheek.

Fuck, he’d missed you. How your lips tasted, how your breath would quiver and shake every time he was close to you. He couldn’t remember why he was ever stupid enough to let you go entirely.

Before he and Stu put their plan into motion, he knew he had to do this, he had to be with you at least once more time. Taste you, touch you, feel you. Because once he was “serious” with Sidney, he wouldn’t be able to lead you on like that. Not you, you were always his.

His kiss turned more possessive than gentle, his hands sliding down to your waist and under your shirt, his blunt fingers digging into your soft, bare skin. He felt your breathing hitch against him as he pulled your body impossibly closer to his, letting you feel him hardening against you.

It wasn’t long before he’d picked you up and placed you on the glass, hoisting your skirt around your waist and carefully pulling your baby pink panties down your legs, letting his fingers brush your inner thigh as he did.

“Fuck, look how fucking wet you are for me.” He groaned, sliding his finger between your velvety folds to collect the moisture before he brought it to his lips. You were pathetically oversensitive, your cunt clenching around nothing the moment he touched you.

He liked that, he’d forgotten how needy you were, how much your body reacted to the slightest of advances. He couldn’t help but smile as he continued to tease, fingers grazing your sensitive skin, barely even touching you.

It dawned on you how long it had been since you’d been touched like this, and you craved more.

“Please, Billy.” You whined, beginning to grow uncomfortable with the lack of stimulation.

For once, he didn’t need much prompting.

His mouth latched onto your aching clit, sucking at it hungrily and growing at your familiar taste he’d missed so much. His hands pushed your legs further apart for better access, feeling how you throbbed against his mouth. Your hands automatically fell into his soft hair, biting your bottom lip as you tugged at it, your head falling back.

He’d been good with his mouth before, but he’d definitely gotten better. His skilled tongue flicked over your clit, one of his hands moving from your thigh to plunge two fingers inside of your cunt as he continued to lick and suck.

“Oh!” You groaned out, fingers tightening in his hair as you pulled his face impossibly closer to you. He curled up his fingers in response, pressing against the spongy tissue and making your body jerk in response. He knew your body far too well, and had clearly never forgotten how to make you respond to him.

He didn’t want you to cum, not yet. He pulled away all too soon, smiling as he saw the all too familiar mixture of turned on and pissed off gracing your features. He straightened up, his hand moving to grip the base of your hair tightly, making you look up into his brown eyes.

“Do you want it?” He asked, voice smooth and even as ever. All you could do was faintly whisper “yes” in response. That’s all he needed.

Billy didn’t drop his eyes from yours as he smoothly unbuckled his belt, pulling it off and discarding it thoughtlessly, his pants coming down shortly after, but only part way down his ass. He just didn’t want to waste any time.

One of his hands dropped to your waist, the other pumped his cock a few times before nestling the tip at the entrance of your aching cunt. You whined softly, wriggling a little only to be grounded by his large hand before he pushed himself inside of your soaked hole.

You couldn’t help the gasp as he filled you, suddenly feeling deliciously full. Familiarly full. He seemed to feel it too, a soft groan in your ear as he pulled you closer to him by your hips.

“Fuck, I’ve missed this cunt so much.” He sighed into your hair, savouring the feeling of your cunt engulfing him for the first time in years. You were growing more and more impatient, needing movement and friction and he chuckled at you desperate movements from under his grounding hands. “I forgot how impatient you are.”

“Billy, just… Fuck me for God’s sake.” You’d meant for it to come out as an order, but it came out as a plea. He chuckled again, slowly rolling his hips back just to snap the forward again sharply, the sensation making you jolt and sigh into his shoulder.

“So bossy, aren’t you, sweetheart? Some things never change, hm?”

You ignore his teasing voice, your focus entirely surrounding how good his cock made you feel so fucking effortlessly. He hardly even had to try and here you were, already a leaking mess for him.

He held you more securely, one of his hands firmly pressing against the small of your back whilst the other swiftly tucked under your knee, holding your leg more securely around his waist as he fucked you.

He knew your body better than you did, he knew what drove you wild. The kisses he scattered across your neck and down your collarbone drove you insane. The way his fingers would dig into your skin, his breathing in your ear, the filth he was whispering to you…

“Fuck, Billy please don’t stop.” You begged him, pushing yourself down against him greedily, which he thoroughly enjoyed. He continued fucking your on the glass display case as he laughed out, “Think I’m gonna? No fucking way. Been thinking about getting back into this cunt for far too long.”

His words made you moan louder, your fingers clinging to his bicep, nails digging into the toned muscle harshly. He let out something akin to a growl, his own fingers digging into your soft skin hard enough to undoubtedly leave bruises in their wake.

He fucked you in a way you feared only her was able to, slamming into your convulsing pussy vigorously, ruthlessly. Your head fell back, eyes beginning to roll as you felt yourself being dragged closer and closer to the edge. Your clit bumped against him with every thrust, the stimulation only making you feel weaker and weaker. He watched your face, the look of pure ecstasy only making him more and more desperate to cum. No way he was about to pull out.

“Billy… Close…” You managed to utter out. In the past, that was his cue to prepare to pull out. But right now? Fuck that. He held you tighter, his fingers sliding from your hip to your clit to drag circles across it, feeling your cunt tense around him as he did.

“Do it.” He said, his own voice a little breathless.

You couldn’t think, could only focus on how fucking good he was making you feel. Your body stuff ended for a second before you came on his cock, your head falling forward onto his shoulder as you heard him let out a loud groan and a second later, his hot cum filling up your still convulsing pussy. But you didn’t care. Your body remained flush against his for a couple of seconds, soaking in the feeling of his cum filling you up so deliciously.

He gradually softened, pulling himself out of your stuffed cunt and casually pulling his pants back up before grabbing his belt.

You remained sitting on the glass case, Billy’s spunk mixed with your own wetness leaking out of you and making a mess of the glass. He couldn’t help but smile, shrugging once.

“Well, shit, you’ve got more of a cleanup to do now, my bad.”

You rolled your eyes at him, waiting for your thighs to stop trembling before jumping down from the display case and grabbing your panties, about to pull them back on before they were snatched out of your hand.

“What are you-“

“I think I should keep them. As a memento, you know?” He interrupted, the stupid smile that got you back into this situation illuminating his pretty face.

“Oh, right. Forgot how much you like to steal my underwear. Weirdo.” You muttered, squirming a little at the feeling of Billy’s cum leaking out of you onto your inner thighs.

Billy watched you squirm for a moment, the smile never faltering. “Mm. You know, I wish I’d cum inside you before. I like seeing you like this.”

You scoffed at him, shaking your head. “I have to clean up.” You said pointedly.

Billy raised an eyebrow a fraction, eyes flickering down toward your stained thighs.

“You’re telling me.”

#ahhh my first billy loomis fic #he’s been on my mind none stop #so here it is! #I’m so happy to finally have him officially on the roster #pretty angel #hope you enjoy! #scream #billy loomis smut #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader

[eyesofshinigami]

It's The Little Things

Rating: G

CW: None

Tags: Established relationship, fluff, projection (lol), Short and sweet

Prompt: From @shofarshogood "Love is doing the dishes even when it's the worst chore ever"

WC: 900

Written for @steddielovemonth Day 5

If there is one chore Eddie could spend the rest of his life never doing again, it would be doing dishes. He hates it with flaming, raging passion. He’d almost rather be eaten by demobats again, but he would never say as much in front of Steve. It makes him all mopey when he says shit like that, even though Eddie’s pretty sure it was his near death, so he gets to joke about it.

At any rate, Eddie absolutely loathes washing dishes. He hates the feeling of wet food on his hands, the way it gets up under his fingernails. He hates the sound of the sponge squeaking against glass. He especially hates how he can never seem to stay dry while he washes them, either. It never fails, he always ends up a sopping wet mess (along with the floor, the counter, the pile of mail he still hasn’t opened yet…)

He would happily go the rest of his life without ever washing a single dish again.

Thankfully, Steve seems to find doing dishes therapeutic, or some shit. He always tells Eddie that it gives him the chance to zone out, to let his brain turn off and go on autopilot. Which, Eddie can kind of relate to, considering it’s the same sort of zen he finds when he’s folding their clothes. Especially towels. Eddie really likes folding towels.

Anyway, it works out. Eddie washes clothes and Steve does the dishes. It’s a pretty good balance and it means their dishes are always clean and they never run out of laundry.

Except lately, Steve has been swamped. Between working twelve-hour EMT shifts and trying to study for his finals, there just hasn’t been time. The dishes have just… been piling up in the sink. To the point where it’s kind of starting to overflow.

Shamefully, it takes Eddie a little bit longer to notice, considering that it’s not on his usual chore list. It isn’t until he’s having to precariously rest a cereal bowl on the pile so it doesn’t collapse that it actually occurs to him that maybe, just maybe, it’s time to fucking wash the dishes.

He lets out a sigh. God, he hates doing dishes, but… but he knows that Steve is too tired, has too much going on. It wouldn’t kill him to do it just this once, to make sure it’s one more thing his boyfriend doesn’t have to worry about. If he can make Steve’s life just a little bit easier, he can brave some stuck-on food and grimy soapy water.

So, Eddie pulls up his metaphorical big boy panties and grabs the dish soap and starts the tap running. Thankfully, he manages to locate the bright yellow gloves that Steve uses to clean under the sink, which should make this more tolerable. He pops one of his metal mixes into the cassette player and gets to work, bobbing his head and trying not to think about what might lurking under the soapy water.

He lets himself get lost in the repetition of it, scrubbing then rinsing then putting in the drainer that Steve insisted they buy when they moved in together. So lost, in fact, that he doesn’t hear the front door opening or the sound of approaching footsteps, until Steve is suddenly appearing in the doorway.

“Christ!” Eddie yells, almost dropping the slotted spoon he was washing.

“Sorry, baby. But uh… Eds… what are you doing?” Steve asks, motioning to the sink.

Eddie almost says something flip, it’s on the tip of his tongue, but he can see the dark circles under Steve’s eyes, the way his back is hunched. “Oh, uh, doing the dishes. They were piling up and I figured I was off today, I could just do them.”

Steve blinks at him. “But you hate doing the dishes.”

Eddie blinks back. “Yeah, but I knew you’d be home late. Like I said, I figured I could do them and… you know, help you out?”

Steve blinks again, before the sweetest smile breaks out onto his face. Like sunshine after the rain. “I appreciate that, thank you.” Steve steps into his space, wrapping his arms around Eddie and pulling him into a hug. He doesn’t even seem to care that Eddie’s shirt and sweatpants seem to soaked. “You’re the best.”

“I just washed a couple of dishes, Steve,” Eddie tries to joke, but he nuzzles against Steve, the best he can do right now while he’s still wearing these ridiculous rubber gloves. “You’ve been working hard, baby. I just wanted to make things easier for you.”

Steve lets out a shaky sigh. “You do, Eds. Every day. Thank you.” He leans in for a kiss, soft and sweet and thrilling Eddie down to his toes. When Steve pulls back, he pecks Eddie on the lips one more time before he says, “How about we order Chinese tonight? From the takeout place with the cartons, so we don’t have to dirty any more dishes, hmm?”

“Music to my ears, Stevie. Go order and I’ll finish up here, yeah?”

Steve nods and Eddie watches him walk away, seeing the way Steve is still smiling like Eddie just handed him a million bucks or something.

He might still hate it, but Eddie would wash all the dishes in the world to see Steve smile like that every day of the week.

#les writes thing #steddie #steddielovemonth #rating: g #fluff

[pandoa]

lines and circles

where lilia falls for a human who is reborn again and again, each life a new life lilia witnesses on the sidelines.his life is like a line. yours is like a circle.

~lilia vanrouge x reincarnating!gender neutral reader~

does this remotely make any sense? no idea. will i still post it because the me months ago wrote this at 2am thinking she was cooking? yes, i will

if lilia were to describe it in simpler terms like he would when explaining something to silver during his younger years...

he'd describe it as if you were a circle and he were a line drawn on the same aging paper. next to each other, yet never touching. together, yet never intersecting.

your circle would loop on and on, starting over at each loop. endless and sure. perfect and for all time. there was no start nor end to your existence, yet still the little world of the aging paper refuses to let you reach the line drawn beside you.

lilia's line.

now, lilia's line—although also endless like your circle—continues on in the same path he's been assigned by whoever oversaw the world you both split but never shared. unlike you, his line is not in a loop. his line travels infinitely and retains everything he sees. he passes your circle, watching you start over, and over, and over, and over again until even he feels much too empty seeing you repeat the same life in a reoccurring path... never-changing, and never-ending.

he supposes that was the most devastating thing about your life as a human. it was your destiny to start and end life in an endless loop like a circle with no ending but its distance still going nowhere. you could walk along that same spherical path, but you still would never reach the end. the end to your cycle of life and death.

you live, you die, and then you're reborn again. that's how it has always been.

lilia knew it would be like this from the start. from the moment he first met you years and years ago, he knew that—unlike him—your life would be short but repetitive, while his was never-ending. never reaching, never touching, never grasping.

all he can do is stand by and watch as your lives begin and end until even his life can't take it anymore.

a/n: WHO LIVES WHO DIES WHO TELLS YOUR STORYYYYYYYYY~~??????

#♢the scribe♢ #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst lilia #lilia vanrouge #lilia twisted wonderland #lilia twst #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia x reader #lilia vanrouge x you #lilia x y/n #diasomnia #twst scenarios

[piratekane]

Beatrice sighs as her pen runs out of ink. This is the second pen today and she’s starting to feel like there is something working against her. But, that seems illogical. The more logical conclusion is that Ava has used her pens. She has a tendency to use them until they’re nearly dry and put them back in Beatrice’s backpack, thinking she’s doing a good job returning them to where she found them.

Not maliciously. There’s nothing Ava does that is malicious. Beatrice knows she’s probably thinking: I borrowed this. I need to put it back. And then she does and Beatrice opens her backpack at the student center the next day, intent on getting some work done while she waits for Ava, and finds her pens dry.

She looks through her pencil case but there isn’t another pen, just a precisely sharpened standard pencil, two black mechanical pencils, a yellow highlighter, a soft white eraser, and her red pen - used to make corrections only. She debates using it.

No. It would ruin her notes.

Instead, she pulls out her laptop. She’ll just continue her notes there and transfer them to her notebook later. The extra repetition will be good for her. Her professor asked her a question she wasn’t quite prepared for and she knows she’s going to be thinking about it all week until she has a chance to redeem herself in the next class.

Her screen comes to life and she sighs. This one isn’t born from frustration like her last one; this one is an acceptance, an admitting to herself that, despite what she’s looking at, she can’t help but feel a rush of affection for it.

Ava has changed her desktop background again. This time, it’s a picture Camila took last weekend. Ava is in a white shirt and white shorts, a white sweatband around her forehead. All of it is stained in neon paint. She’s holding a fake plastic trophy high above her head with one hand, the other looped around Beatrice’s neck, the two of them squished into the frame. Her own clothes are soaked with the same bright colors.

How she agreed to something called a Color Run... The idea of running through cannons of color had not sounded appealing, but Ava had come home with a flyer she found on the bulletin board outside the cafeteria and presented it to Beatrice alongside a bulleted list of reasons why Beatrice should say yes.

She let Ava go through the list: one, you love to exercise. Two, it’s advertised to make the world ‘healthier’ and you’re always telling me I need to start making better choices. Three, imagine if we got Lilith to agree to come and someone blasted her with a color cannon?

The third one hadn’t been convincing. Lilith would never agree to something like that.

Beatrice didn’t tell her that the list didn’t matter; she was going to say yes the moment Ava handed her the flyer and looked at her with those eyes, the ones that always made Beatrice feel like she could free fall and not care what waits for her at the other end of it.

And she had to admit, it was rather fun. The white clothes they bought were completely ruined, but it had been worth it to see the way Ava beamed the whole run, sprinting ahead to circle back around her. She had thrown her arms wide when the color cannons went off, soaking in the powder. Beatrice soaked in her happiness in return.

It hasn’t been long. Spring is fading into summer quickly and Ava has been living with her for two months and every single moment has been filled with the kind of happiness that Beatrice could have only dreamed about when she was younger. The kind of happiness that made each day feel like it was worth waking up for.

She hadn’t gone looking for this, hadn’t expected something like this to just fall into her lap - or literally crash into her table. It’s illogical to think fate sent Ava into her orbit, but if she was pressed, she could admit that each of them must have been in the right place at the right time. Serendipity, Ava said with a rakish smile. We were destined to meet.

If there was such a thing as serendipity, it must be working in her favor.

She opens a word document, the cursor blinking at the top of the page. She titles it Anthropological Theories of Religion and flips through her textbook until she finds the correct page. She likes this class, likes how as she continues through her degree program the class gets smaller, more intimate. She typically likes the professor, though she feels thrown off by her now.

Halfway through a word, her world goes dark. Warm hands slide over her eyes, fingertips pressing against her skin. 

She smiles nearly instantly. “Ava.”

“Not Ava,” says a low voice. But it’s clunky, a poor imitation at something deeper.

Beatrice plays along for just a moment, indulging Ava and a part of herself that likes to make Ava happy. “Oh? Well then. I suppose a stranger has found it appropriate to put their hands on me.” She curls her fingers around a thin wrist, one her hand already knows the shape of, and tightens slightly. “I do know how to disarm you.”

“You could try.”

Beatrice tightens her grip in response and hears a slight exhale that glances against the shell of her ear. A fingertip skates across her brow briefly and then Ava is letting go, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before she sits down heavily in the chair next to Beatrice.

“How did you know it was me? What if I was… Mary?”

Beatrice spares Ava a glance. “Mary knows better. You, on the other hand…”

“I’ve never known better.” Ava says it with pride. “Especially not when it comes to you.”

Beatrice feels her chest tighten. She wonders if Ava knows, if Ava understands how something so simple unspools the tight loop Beatrice keeps around her heart. A part of her thinks Ava must. Ava is able to read her so thoroughly. From the moment they met, Ava has seen through her so effortlessly. It’s thrilling, to be seen like that. 

And it’s devastatingly terrifying.

“Yes, well,” she says quietly.

“One day, you’ll use that to your advantage.” Ava spins Beatrice’s textbook towards her, reading a few of the section titles before she turns it back towards Beatrice. “But you’re also too nice for that, so who knows.”

Beatrice straightens out her textbook out of habit more than anything else. “You’re late.”

Ava smiles sheepishly. “I got caught up.” She doesn’t give an answer past that.

Beatrice nearly frowns. Ava doesn’t owe her any more of an explanation. She just usually gives one.

“But I’m here now!” Ava takes off her backpack, resting it on the floor before she opens it and takes out her own laptop. “I thought you didn’t like typing your notes? Muscle memory or something, right?” 

“My pens are out of ink.” 

Ava’s cheeks flush. “That’s my fault, isn’t it.”

“It’s certainly not mine.” She says it without any malice. “I just need to start carrying more pens.”

Ava still looks guilty. She fishes into the pocket of her jean shorts and unearths a stick of gum, three paper clips, and an uncapped pen. She spreads them out on the table and nudges the pen towards Beatrice. It’s not the tip she likes, thicker than she usually uses, and it’s blue. If red would ruin her notes, this would change the physical shape of them.

She takes the offered pen and closes her laptop. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you.” Ava smiles and scoops the paper clips up, putting them back in her pocket. 

Beatrice will find them later when she does the laundry and she’ll add them to the jar of pocket-trinkets she keeps of all the things Ava leaves behind in her clothes. It’s made up of coins and paper clips and pen caps - all things that Ava swears she’s going to put in proper places but never remembers until Beatrice is pulling them out of the washing machine.

Ava takes the gum and breaks it in half, offering it to Beatrice. She has coffee and this gum is spearmint. The combination will taste horrible. But she puts the gum in her mouth and smiles when Ava does.

“So, listen to what MacKay did today.” Ava tells the story animatedly, face shifting as she plays each character. Beatrice doesn’t catch every word, too focused on the rise and fall of her voice and the way her hands move as she goes on. Beatrice finds herself smiling along, not at all caring about some girl named Carina or Professor MacKay and whatever argument they’ve gotten into this week.

Ava is halfway through her story, body gearing up to drop the punch line, when her face shifts and her eyes cut over Beatrice’s shoulder. Beatrice frowns, turning to look. A boy is approaching their table, hands locked around the straps of his backpack as he strides towards them.

“Hey, Ava!” he calls.

Beatrice looks back at Ava. She knows this boy, at the very least. But her face is unreadable - a feat Ava doesn’t manage to accomplish very often. He comes closer and Beatrice’s frown deepens.

“Ah,” Ava says quietly.

Ah?

The boy slows as he reaches their table, a smile on his face that someone might find charming. She studies Ava’s face. Does she find it charming?

“Hey, Ava,” he repeats. His voice is smooth, slightly accented. A traitorous part of her thinks of the time that Ava said she liked accents. “I was hoping to catch you after class.”

Ava smiles. “Sorry, JC. I was in a hurry. Had a lunch date.” She hooks a thumb in Beatrice’s direction. “JC, meet Beatrice, my best friend. Beatrice, this is JC. He’s my biology lab partner.”

JC. She’s never heard of him before. Ava talks about everyone and everything. Some nights, she talks until she falls asleep on the couch, her Hobbes stuffed animal clutched in her arms. It’s almost as if she collects stories all day just to tell them to Beatrice later. She knows about every one of Ava’s classmates, is - secretly - invested in her Literary Theory classmates, Robert and Nayara, and their on-again, off-again relationship. She knows about the librarian Ava likes, who doesn’t mind her iced coffee, as long as she uses a paper towel and keeps it away from the books.

But she’s never heard of a JC, or anyone who might use the initials JC.

And it’s not that Ava isn’t allowed to have friends. She is. She has plenty of them. She always says hello to at least fifteen people when they go out, either here to their favorite table in the student center or in the library or walking to the cafeteria if they’re getting lunch between classes. Ava loves people, loves knowing things about them. Beatrice loves that about her.

She just thought she knew all of them. Or has heard of them before. She certainly thinks she would have remembered hearing about Ava’s lab partner. It's odd, now, that she hasn't.

JC smiles at her, his eyes taking a moment longer to shift away from Ava. “It’s nice to meet you. Ava has talked a lot about you.”

Beatrice hides her smile at that. “Nice to meet you,” she says politely.

He completely turns from her, his job of mirroring her politeness gone, his job done. Beatrice finds herself studying him. He’s attractive in a conventional sense. A strong jaw, a good smile. Camila would have many things to say about him and Beatrice works to keep her voice out of her mind. She focuses on Lilith instead. 

Boys, she would probably sneer. Beatrice agrees.

JC runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back a little. Beatrice watches Ava’s eyes follow the motion and fights a visible frown. JC notices, though, and seems to preen a little in a way only university-age boys can when they find themselves to be attractive. She takes a centering breath. She doesn’t know JC. She’s sure he’s a nice person. She’s also sure he’d be a nicer one if he wasn’t standing at their table right now.

“I just wanted to know if you gave any thought to my question.”

“Ah,” Ava says again.

Ah?

JC doesn’t seem bothered. “I know your rule on dating your lab partner. It’s a very specific rule but I think you should give me a chance.”

Dating echoes in Beatrice’s head like a slow siren, like the slow spin of a lantern in a lighthouse. It illuminates JC, floating in the ocean in her mind, with his charming smile and his hopeful eyes. Ava appears next, face unreadable. They rotate around and around until they’re in the same frame.

She blinks and Ava is staring at her, a slight wrinkle in her forehead.

Beatrice keeps her face neutral, unsure of what else to do with it. She certainly can’t shout no. She absolutely will not encourage it. She’s stuck in a sort of limbo where she isn’t sure what comes next and so she waits, poised and ready to do whatever is needed of her.

Ava’s frown deepens.

JC takes the silence and runs with it. “If it’s because you’re worried about things being awkward if it doesn’t go well - and that’s a big if - then you don’t need to worry.” His smile widens and he leans one hand down on the table, his whole body angled towards Ava now. “What do you say?”

Say no, she thinks. Tell him to go away.

Ava has been living with her for two months and Beatrice has been in love with her for at least half of that.

It took some getting used to, this feeling. It took many nights laying in bed staring at the ceiling and pretending like the feelings she had for Ava were just a friendship. An intense one, born of their proximity and Ava’s natural affinity for people in general. 

But love is friendship caught on fire, she’s read before. And her friendship with Ava is a living, burning thing. She knows their love would be incendiary, scorching everything she thought love looked like before.

If - and it’s a big if - Ava ever wanted to love her back.

Why would she? Why would she give up a world of possibility for Beatrice? She’s certainly nothing special. She’s disciplined, polite, considerate to the needs of others - all the things her parents wanted her to be. Ava wants someone free, a little brash, selfish in the right ways. Beatrice is none of those things, can’t even begin to think of how she could be. But Ava deserves to get what she wants after all those years of being denied even the simplest of things.

Beatrice just doesn’t have the qualities Ava could want. Friendship is one thing. Being in love with someone is another. Beatrice is hyper aware of the difference.

It doesn’t stop her from dreaming about it, though. It doesn’t stop her from wishing for it.

“What’s the worst that could happen? We spend the rest of the semester ignoring each other?” he asks, smile charming.

Yes, she thinks. What’s the worst that could happen between them? They could spend the rest of the lease ignoring each other. Ava would never look at her the same.

She’d have to go back to living her life the way it was before Ava - not the worst, but not as great as this.

“I don’t know,” Ava finally hedges.

Yes, Beatrice exhales in her mind.

JC leans forward a little more. “It doesn’t need to be anything big. We could go for one of those iced coffees you like. At the cafe near Venable?”

“She likes the one near the English department.”

Beatrice frowns. Surely that wasn’t her voice. But Ava and JC are both looking at her. So it must have been her. There’s a slight smile on Ava’s face, a slight frown on JC’s. Beatrice clears her throat.

“I’m sorry. I just…”

JC recovers. “The one near Eldridge Hall, sure. I know someone who works there. She can sneak us a pastry.”

Ava hasn’t looked away from Beatrice. “I don’t know,” she repeats.

Beatrice swallows. It’s fine. Ava is - well, not quite a grown up, but certainly not a child. Despite her propensity for Saturday morning cartoons on Beatrice’s Hulu account - which is ruining the algorithm of her suggested shows - and sleeping on the couch upside down like a toddler and eating, God help her, shredded cheese out of the bag after finishing half a gallon of milk without even pouring herself a glass, she is not a child. 

She can make her own decisions. And if that decision is- If it’s- Well. Beatrice swallows past a knot forming in her throat. Well. She can do what she pleases. Including this probably-very-nice-boy in front of them. She’s allowed to do that.

So she smiles tightly, her lips pressing together thinly, and tells herself to get it together. She keeps her focus on Ava and loosens her mouth and it feels a little more natural. She inhales through her nose. She can tell Ava that she’s free to do whatever she wants with whoever she wants.

“You do like a free pastry,” is what she ends up saying.

Ava’s forehead pinches, the corners of her mouth crinkling. “I do,” she says slowly, confused.

“An iced coffee and a pastry.” Beatrice says it just as slowly. “Both things that you enjoy.”

“I do,” Ava repeats.

Beatrice nods encouragingly. Her head feels like it’s on a spring, up and down and up and down. She’s worried it’s going to roll off. 

JC looks between the two of them, confusion on his face. Beatrice sees him out of the corner of her eye and her smile tightens again.

Ava is still staring at her, still frowning slightly. Beatrice forces herself into her most diplomatic smile. 

Don’t you get it? she wants to ask. Don’t you understand what I’m trying to say?

But Ava misses it. Because she breaks Beatrice’s gaze and focuses on JC instead. Beatrice thinks her smile is slightly dimmer. Or she’s just hoping it is. But it still doesn’t ease the pain of knowing there is a smile and it’s aimed at JC. 

She opens her mouth, but he beats her to it. “Listen, you have my number. I’m done with classes this evening. And then you’ll meet me for coffee, okay? And you won’t regret it.” 

Ava says nothing. JC pushes back from their table and smiles, hooking his hands back around the straps of his bag. His eyes wander to Beatrice and he nods politely before turning in a lazy circle and heading back through the crowd as the student center starts to fill up as afternoon classes.

Beatrice looks away instantly, busying herself with adjusting her notebook. It doesn’t need to be straightened out. In fact, she pushes it out of place and the pen Ava loaned her starts to roll across the table towards the edge. She reaches for it at the same time as Ava does.

Their fingers tangle and the pen is trapped under Beatrice’s palm. She pauses, every nerve exposed, and looks up to find Ava already looking back at her.

She smiles, mouth still wound too tight. “I’ve got it.”

“Do you?” Ava asks curiously.

Beatrice frowns, looking down. Their fingers are still slotted together, still laced over the pen. Of course she has it. It’s right there, scratching blue ink against her palm. 

“Because it seems like you’ve lost everything else,” Ava continues. “Like your cool, for instance.”

She pulls back minutely. “My-” Her eyes narrow. “What do you mean by that?”

Ava shrugs a shoulder. She only does that when she has a secret, when there’s something that Beatrice missed, a cue she didn’t read. “You do like a free pastry,” she mocks, her voice pitched low in a terrible approximation of Beatrice’s accent. “What gotten into you?”

“Oh.” Beatrice bristles. “Well, you do.”

“I know that. You know that.” Ava pauses. “Why does JC need to know that?”

Beatrice doesn’t have a good answer for that. So she makes one up. “Your potential suitors will need to know things about you. That is less a trivia fact and more of a necessity.”

Ava snorts loudly. Beatrice looks around, but no one seems bothered by the sudden noise. “My potential suitors?” She shakes her head. “Bea, honestly. No one talks like you do.”

She doesn’t make it sound like an insult. She never does, never has. She seems more entertained than anything, but not in a way that makes Beatrice uncomfortable or self-conscious. It makes her feel seen. And she loves to be seen by Ava. It uncoils some of the tension in her shoulder that she knows is radiating into her hand, tense under Ava’s touch.

Ava doesn’t move her hand. “Well, thanks to you, I think I’m going on a date tonight.”

Thanks to me. Thanks to the way she said Ava would enjoy herself. Thanks to her, Ava is meeting someone who isn’t her for a coffee at Ava’s favorite cafe where she only brings Beatrice. One of our places, Ava always tells her with a smile. 

“You can say no,” she reminds Ava, her whole body locking up again.

Say no, say no. She feels each word burn in her throat. But why would she? Why would she pick someone like JC over me?

Ava is still looking at her curiously, head tipped slightly as she studies her face. Beatrice holds still, face perfectly impassive from years of practice. She doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, doesn’t open her mouth and tell Ava that JC seemed nice but she deserves something better than nice; something spectacular.

Then again, she’s not sure that Ava would feel that way about her.

So she forces her face to relax. Works through each muscle until she’s smiling slightly and nods encouragingly. “But if you like him and can see yourself enjoying your time, you should say yes.”

“Do you want me to?”

The question cuts through her with the intensity of a perfect lightning strike. She pulls back slightly, the only indication Ava’s hand tightening over hers when it starts to slide away. Ava’s face has gone from curious to a level of seriousness usually reserved for her more difficult homework assignments, or when she’s trying to figure out something Beatrice said. 

“I don’t… I don’t think that’s my decision.”

“Well, you’re my best friend.”

Beatrice has never hated a description more in her life. She fights the visceral reaction she feels come alive in her chest. She is Ava’s best friend. She’s admitted that more times than her parents have told her they love her. The first time had been a surprise to both of them, almost too soon after Ava moved in. But it felt natural. Ava slotted into the unknown hole in her life like she had always been there.

But she’d set their whole foundation on fire if it meant one day she could be Ava’s best friend and, and, and.

She widens her smile, feeling like she’s playing a part. “Of course. But I suppose… Well, there’s no harm in trying, is there?”

Ava’s hand slides away now and the feeling that she said the wrong thing rushes in on her. 

“A very diplomatic answer, Beatrice.” She pats the top of Beatrice’s hand before she pulls it into her lap. “Remind me again why you’re not running for student government?”

Beatrice doesn’t smile. She simply touches her notebook, arranging it’s already perfect line. She looks down at the chunky-tipped blue pen sitting on the page, so out of place against the neat, thin, black lines of her notes. Suddenly the idea of writing with it feels overwhelming. 

“I think we better get to lunch.” She puts the pen in front of Ava. “Camila said she was going to meet us there.” 

She needs the buffer, needs to put space between them. Camila is the perfect distraction. Mary and Shannon would know instantly that something was wrong - and they’d corner her until she said what. But perhaps they might not; Shannon seems supernaturally in tune with her and there’s rarely a thing she needs to tell her. Lilith would read Beatrice’s hesitation and be annoyed. Or think it’s Ava’s fault and be cagey when she doesn’t need to be. Camila would be too polite to acknowledge the tension Beatrice knows is radiating off her.

Ava, mercifully, doesn’t argue with her or point out that Camila isn’t meeting them for another 15 minutes and the walk only takes 5. She pockets the pen again and packs her things away, waiting for Beatrice to zip her bag closed.

They walk inches apart, shoulders to themselves. It’s the longest 5 minutes of Beatrice’s life.

~

The door opens slowly. Beatrice looks up from her book, the one she’s been reading since Ava left; the one she hasn’t been reading at all. Ava slips through it, back turned to close the door quietly behind her. When she turns to the living room, she gasps.

“Beatrice.”

Beatrice blinks. “Why are you sneaking back in?”

Ava is still taking deep breaths, hand pressed to her chest. “I thought you’d be sleeping.”

“At…” Beatrice checks her phone, frowning. “Eight o’clock in the evening?”

The tips of Ava’s ears go red just enough for Beatrice to notice. “Well. I didn’t look at the time.”

Beatrice looks out the window at the golden sunset. “It’s still light out.”

“You’re an early sleeper.” Ava sounds like she’s grasping at straws, the pitch of her voice rising.

“Not that early,” Beatrice says flatly. She slips her bookmark into her book, grateful to be closing it. “8 hours a night are important, but if I went to sleep at this hour, I’d be up at four in the morning. That’s too early, even for me.”

Ava toes off her shoes, kicking them towards the shoe rack at the door. One of them lands on the rack but the other bounces off it and away. Ava sighs, fixes it, and runs a hand through her hair when she straightens up.

“How-” Beatrice stops. She suddenly needs to be busy, needs to have her hands moving. She could open her book again, thumb through the pages. But tea sounds better. She stands, crossing to the kitchen and filling the electric kettle.

“I got you a coffee.” Ava pulls out a stool tucked at the breakfast bar, leaning forward with her chin in her hands. “But some kid on a skateboard crashed into me when he cut a corner and took the coffee down with him.”

Beatrice pulls two mugs out the cabinet, dropping a tea bag in each. “Are you okay?” 

“Just my pride.” Ava shrugs when Beatrice looks back. “But I’m disappointed. I got you a mocha chip frappuchino. Lucy put in extra chocolate chips.”

Something flutters in Beatrice’s chest, a sudden thought that overwhelms her: maybe Ava does these things because she feels it too. She pushes it down and smiles. “I do like when Lucy makes my drinks. But, maybe next time.”

Ava is quiet long enough that Beatrice wonders if she left. The kettle starts to whistle and she fills the mugs, balancing them carefully as she carries them to the counter Ava hasn’t moved from. She’s just uncharacteristically quiet. She hums a thank you and curls her hands around the mug, hissing when she finds it’s too hot.

Beatrice can’t help the fond smile; Ava is always rushing into things.

It’s why Beatrice knows Ava doesn’t feel the same way. She’s not rushing into this, not caught up in a whirlwind like she is with everything else. 

“Aren’t you going to ask me how my date was?” Ava finally asks.

I don’t want to know.

“How was your date?” she asks politely.

Tell me it was the worst date you’ve ever been on. Worse than the one you told me about where the boy slurped his pasta and sauce got everywhere; worse than the one where the girl tried to cast a love spell on you.

Ava shrugs. “It was… nice.” She blows on her tea. “JC is a good guy. I knew that already. But it wasn’t… groundbreaking.”

Beatrice is patient, letting her tea cool on its own. “Does a date need to be groundbreaking?”

“World-breaking.” Ava says it so quickly and fiercely, Beatrice has to blink. “It should be life-altering.”

“That seems like a lot to expect for a first date.” Beatrice points out. “At a coffee shop. With your lab partner.”

Ava shrugs. “Maybe I just have high expectations.”

Ones Beatrice can never live up to, it seems.

She smiles, hoping it looks warm and friendly. “You’ll have a hard time finding someone with an outlook like that.”

“I don’t know.” Ava takes a sip of her tea, hisses again. “I mean, a lot of things in my life have been like that. Getting out of the orphanage. Getting into school. Meeting you.” She’s staring at Beatrice now, a smile on her face.

She curls her hands around her mug and fights the way it burns her skin. She’s hardly earth-shattering, hardly worth that much. There’s no way she could be. But Ava is so earnest all the time, means things so completely. And if she’s saying that, Beatrice has to acknowledge that Ava considers her something great. A great friendship that Beatrice could never, ever risk.

But she feels herself flush all the same. “I’d hardly call it that.” She hedges around her next question. “So, no second date?”

She wonders if Ava hears the way her voice trembles; she can certainly feel it in her chest. 

But Ava doesn’t seem to, too focused on taking another, slower, sip of her tea. This one apparently doesn’t scald her tongue. She grins up at Beatrice, hunched over the steaming mug. She’s brought her legs up on the rungs of the stool and her knees are around her ears. Ava clutches the mug tightly to her chest.

She’s in love with a menace. 

“I don’t think so,” Ava says after a minute. “I mean, I don’t really have a reason not to, but…”

Beatrice breathes in deeply, steadying herself. She’s not a reason for Ava to say no. She knows that. “That’s not very encouraging,” she says instead.

Ava shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m not looking for anything to change right now. I want things to stay exactly as they are. Things are perfect. And if I went out with him again, I’d just be, I don’t know. Pretending.”

She takes another measured sip of her tea. She feels like she’s walking in the empty space between the points of knives. “You wouldn’t be happy.”

Ava shakes her head softly. “No, I wouldn’t be. How could I be happy if I was pretending all the time?”

Beatrice knows. Because she is. She’s pretending from the moment she wakes up to the moment she falls asleep alone and all the seconds in between. She’s pretending that everything she’s feeling isn’t consuming her from the inside out.

All the books she read as a child, all the romances novels she devoured in her bed with a flashlight illuminating the pages - none of it described the way it feels now. Love is friendship on fire had seemed like such a childish thing to say. Something arbitrary and insignificant. But now she understands what it’s supposed to mean, what she could never understand before with anyone else.

“You couldn’t,” she admits. She’s not lying.

Ava’s eyes are still piercing, still searching her face. She wonders what Ava is trying to find and she keeps the truth as far away from her as she can. Either she finds something else or she gives up, because her face breaks into two and she’s grinning.

Ava slurps her tea, smiling wider when Beatrice looks mildly disgusted. “Alright. The way I see it, we have two options: we have a sleepover night where you let me braid your hair and I let you paint my toenails.” She laughs when the mild disgust turns into outright horror. “Or, I get you back into that really nice sweater you were wearing earlier and we got off in search of a replacement mocha chip frappuchino?”

Beatrice abandons her tea almost immediately. “Do you know what time Lucy’s shift is over?”

Ava jumps off her stool, landing lightly on her feet. She doesn’t bother with sneakers, socked feet sliding into sandals. Beatrice thinks about telling her how ridiculous it looks: her mid-calf socks usually hidden by her high-top sneakers, and a pair of black slides; her jean shorts where the pocket hangs just a little too long past the hem; her crop top with How you lichen me now? hand-stenciled on the front, from the one botany club meeting she attended; her hair half-pulled back in a high top-knot; a crooked grin on her face.

She’s the most beautiful woman Beatrice has ever seen in her life.

And one day, someone else is going to get to call her theirs. Beatrice will be left with the empty space where Ava used to be, her own space in Ava’s life filled up with someone else. Someone better. Someone she wants to rush headlong into the future with. Someone she sees a world of possibilities with.

Beatrice will be happy for her. Or, she’ll exhaust herself pretending.

“Milady,” Ava says, mouth tripping over the sounds. She holds out her arm. “Will you accompany me on this chip?”

Beatrice rolls her eyes. “You hardly made an effort that time.”

Ava’s smile doesn’t falter. “One of these days, I’ll impress you, Beatrice. You’ll see.” She wags her finger at Beatrice. “And then you’ll realize how special I am. You’ll never want to lose me.”

“No,” she says quietly. Ava slips away to grab her phone, abandoned on the breakfast bar. Beatrice waits by the door, holding it open. “I don’t suppose I ever will.”

It’s inevitable. She’ll lose Ava to someone who loves her out loud, someone good enough for her. But she’s going to bury greedy hands into the moments in between and hold on for as long as Ava lets her.

“I think I’m going to tell JC it was nice, but we won’t go out again,” Ava says conversationally as they exit their apartment building, headed towards campus. “He was nice, but… I’m looking for better.”

“You’ll find it,” she says, believing it wholeheartedly. She unthinkingly maneuvers Ava around a crack in the sidewalk. “You just need to be patient.”

“Patience isn’t my strong suit.” Her hand slides to Beatrice’s, their fingers slotting together for a fleeting moment. “I don’t know how much longer I can wait. But I'll try.”

Just keep waiting. Wait forever, her mind screams. Don’t find anyone before I can be who you need me to be.

Ava takes in her silence and laughs. Beatrice frowns, not in on the joke, but doesn’t protest when Ava laces an arm through hers, pulling until their pressed together from the shoulder to their elbows, digging into each other. There’s no space between them, not for a slip of paper or a secret.

Ava hums softly, some tune Beatrice doesn’t know, but would guess is some new song on the radio that she’s never heard. Beatrice lets it bubble in her chest, sinks into it’s familiar warmth, and hopes that whatever God is watching over her lets her keep this moment for as long as she can.

And if he isn’t, she hopes he’s just not paying enough attention to realize she’s living on borrowed time and that she’s running out of it.

#warrior nun #avatrice #ava silva #sister beatrice #forever roommates #jealousy turning saints into the sea #but also poor bea? #(as if i didn't write her into this corner) #everyone say thank you kay thank you kay #anyway let's try for a little less next time yes?

[queers-gambit]

Angel is the Centerfold

prompt: insecurity runs deep when Eddie's secret lady-love finds the worn pages of a centerfold - marked on a woman who looks nothing like her.

pairing: Eddie Munson x female!cheerleader!reader

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

note: you ever just get overwhelmed and wanna dip off for a week because you need to recharge your battery? reader's actually able to do that here - lucky ducky.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: cursing (when isn't there), insecurity, small angst, comfort ending i guess.

Let's be honest, high school wasn't easy on anyone. Sure, some people could slip through the cracks while remaining unnoticed, unseen, unheard, and never bothered. Others weren't as lucky but it wasn't as bad or pressured as some other lives in high school.

I wasn't gonna make excuses for the other jocks but I found life just flowed a little simpler if I nestled myself securely on the outskirts of social circles.

I was once lead in the spring musical last year and liked to keep up with my drama friends; I was voted in as class president in October; pitcher on the softball team; might've even found myself on the cheerleading squad.

Did it make sense? Probably not to others.

But for the way my mind liked to race, keeping extra busy with a plethora of friends was easier. I was never in one 'crowd' and could hop around freely to my choosing; occasionally even hopping over to the Hellfire Club on a few random days.

Those were the conversations I was most animated in.

These guys never gave a fuck and liked pushing creative envelopes. So, they wouldn't push me about my home life but sure as shit pushed me into whether or not I thought Luke Skywalker was hot or not. Gareth was running a very important poll and it was vital I give them my honest opinion on the Jedi.

If I wanted, I usually had a seat at Hellfire, too. I couldn't make every game and usually my character was someone fleeting due to my busy schedule... But it was how I came to really get to know Eddie Munson better. He was the Dungeon Master and was always willing to hang for an extra hour to go over some details about the campaign or game.

If I didn't understand something, he was breaking it down for me. He teased me, sure, but never made me feel lesser-than for not grasping a concept completely.

It could've been the reason we started hanging out at his trailer.

Maybe it was also because life was finally catching up to me and overwhelming me in a tsunami wave of stress, and I needed an escape.

Either way, one moment, I'm content being a busy little bee, and the next, I'm crying my eyes out at Eddie Munson's trailer as a roach smoldered in a glass ashtray between us.

It became something of a regular occurrence for us. Sometimes, I ran into his Uncle Wayne on his way out to work and other times, it was nearly pitch black when I arrived. But Eddie was always welcoming; never complaining when I'd burrow into one of his hoodies for comfort; content to roll a joint and let the pair of us rant about our weekly worries.

I guess he got sick of hearing me complain so much because one evening, perhaps while rambling, Eddie leaned forward and seared his lips on mine. He made some comment about shutting me up like this from now on before pressing his tongue into my mouth and commandeering every known thought I had.

It worked... For the first couple months.

It was nice to feel like I had something private, 100% for myself. Nobody knew that Eddie Munson was the guy I spent my free time with; they didn't need to know I started blowing them off in favor of him. They didn't know how we would lay in his bed, fucking, talking, laughing, smoking; they never needed to know how he whispered sweet nothings in my ear, and like a fool, how I ate it up.

It was private. Eddie was private.

Stolen glances in the hallway, a few kisses in empty classrooms.

But then... It turned a little repetitive.

Once, I'd met him in the woods (per his request) and when I arrived 'early', he was in the midst of another deal. Waving me off as "another customer that can wait", he turned to the boy in front of him and all but basically ignored me.

I knew we weren't public, but damn, right?

And there was the time when my Mom's car tire blew and she couldn't pick me up from softball practice... But Hellfire had just let out and when I asked Eddie for a ride home, he chuckled, "I would, princess, but I don't think I could fit your reputation in my van."

I get there were some other people around when I asked, but shit.

Oh! And there was that other time when he and I went to the corner store for a few snacks and his arm was securely around my shoulders. It was about 12:30 in the morning on a Saturday, and sure, not many people were out but a few had come in after us... And Eddie had dropped his arm so quick, you would've thought he was burned.

He had waited until they were gone before letting us pay together and leave...

It was starting to feel more and more like Eddie was ashamed of me. Like he didn't want to be seen with me... Like he couldn't stomach the idea of people knowing he was into me - or I was into him.

None the less, the idea started to gnaw at my mind because I couldn't begin to understand what was so wrong about... Well, me.

Eddie had called that night and asked if I was down for a movie and joint, claiming he had picked up my favorite candy at the store today and needed my company to break into it. I had agreed with the thought that maybe I'd just gently broach the subject; just ask in earnest if there was something about me he was ashamed of or not.

"Hey, sweetheart," Eddie panted when he opened the door for me, instantly leading me through his trailer, "I'm so sorry, I lost track of time. You mind hanging tight so I can hop a quick shower?"

"Oh, yeah, no problem," I assured, nodding with a small smile.

"Thanks, doll," he whispered, kissing my cheek, "be just a minute."

I nodded absently and watched him go, looking around his room and finding it only mildly messy today. I sat on his bed and rubbed my hands together, trying to think of the best way to ask him what was up, when suddenly, my eyes caught sight of a dog-eared magazine peaking out from under a pair of boxers in front of Eddie's bedside stand. Curiosity burned my stomach and I let the tip of my show gingerly toe the boxers to the side and cocked my head to get a better look.

Only... I almost wish I hadn't.

The woman in the worn-centerfold was outstandingly gorgeous and her curves were natural. You could say I was staring but there's a way you can tell - and that woman, staring up at me, was 100% natural. She was something lethally beautiful with sculptured thighs and a taunt stomach; defining outlines running along her curves.

Picture perfect.

An angel in the centerfold.

Her hair was even perfectly cascading around her, maybe akin to a halo that draped off her thin, highlighted shoulders. Reaching up to feel my own, I couldn’t help but scoff and drop my hand instantly as even our fucking hair was stark opposite one another.

I felt my mouth dry as I took note of her breasts and how they spilled from her lace bra before darting my eyes down to skim her body and land on the smooth, hairless cunt peaking out from a pair of pure white crotchless panties. Taking a sobering breath, I realized everything about her was in some way, shape, or form the exact opposite of me.

Insecurity reared its ugly head and made me question if this was the reason Eddie didn't want to be seen with me. If this was why he didn't want to commit; to date me; to let others know... Because I was wrong. I was all wrong in his mind - this woman with the perfect natural body was a reflection of what he thought was ideal.

His idea of what he wanted.

And it was the literal opposite of me.

Feeling sick, I let my foot jerk to push the boxers back over and stood nervously from his bed. The room was about to collapse on me and a ringing started in my ears, forcing my feet to move or else I'd break down in sobs right there.

Pausing at the cracked bathroom door, I knocked and called, "Hey, Eddie, I forgot my aunt's coming to town and I have to help my mom. I'll just call you later, okay?"

Praying to God my voice remained steady, I waited as Eddie mulled over my words. "A-Are you sure, sweetheart? I didn't get to see you much this week. We can always just watch a movie, or something?"

"I'm sure, I'll just call you later. Bye," I called, not leaving room for argument.

"O-Okay, call me when you get home! Bye! Drive safe!" Eddie called over the sounds of his shower; my feet surging to get me as far from the trailer park as possible.

Call it childish but I didn't call Eddie. I just didn't really have it in me to entertain a conversation where I wasn't okay. In fact, I didn't really have it in me to do anything that week. So, I took mercy on myself and canceled all of my obligations - only going to classes, and then straight home, where I remained alone in my room as my mother worked nightshifts at the hospital this week.

And at lunch, I just hung out in the SGA room where I made up for the work I'd miss from all my canceled after-school meetings.

So, it was easy to avoid everyone. Easy peasy.

Nobody seemed to notice because of how thin I constantly stretched myself, but my self esteem took a major blow that I wasn't really looking to actively heal and wanted a little peace to myself. So I made myself extra scarce by faking a really bad period so nobody would question me too much.

Turns out, maybe Eddie noticed my flighty behavior. I didn't know it, but after school on Wednesday, he caught Chrissy's elbow and ducked into an empty classroom to ask her what was up with me.

The head cheerleader assured him I was just feeling a little under the weather, not putting too much thought into why he seemed so worried. She knew you two were friends and figured he thought I was sick, not realizing he was actually trying to understand why I had blown everything (and one) off this week.

After school Friday, Eddie had enough and loaded into his van after clocking my absence at practice again. Not that he was paying attention (he totally was), but I'd missed the whole week, and he knew that wasn't normal.

So, when he showed up at my door, imagine his shock to see me answer it in my pajamas.

"Eddie," I felt my eyes widen, trying to subtly close the thick cardigan I was wearing around my leggings and tank top. "Uh, did I forget something in History?"

"Funny enough, you did."

"Oh."

"Yeah," he breathed, "see, by my observations, you've been blowing everyone off this week, and can mean you've forgotten your friends."

I scoffed, "No, not entirely."

"Yes, entirely," he repeated. "What's going on with you?"

"Nothing."

"Bullshit," he shook his head. "You've not been in the cafeteria all week, you haven't been doing the morning announcements, you haven't shown up at Hellfire, or SGA, or cheer, or any of your other orgs - the hell's up with you?"

"Oh, I uh... Didn't think anyone really realized," I admitted quietly.

"When you move as quick as you do and then come to a screeching halt, yeah," he chuckled, "a few people notice. So, again, what's wrong?"

"It's literally nothing."

"So, why're you blowing me off too?"

"I'm not."

"You're standing pretty defensively in your doorway," he pointed out softly. "Am I... Like, am I not welcome anymore?" His question caught me off guard because I wasn’t sure how to answer it. My silence was enough of an answer as he whimpered, "Oh, shit, wait, what'd I do, sweetheart?"

"You didn't do anything."

"Well, obviously I did if - "

"No," I sniffled, cutting him off, "that's what's wrong, you just... You never did anything."

"Okay, darlin', I'm confused," he paused. "What didn't I do?"

"You... You were always ashamed of me, never wanted to be seen with me, or let people know we were hanging out. I get we weren't dating, but you never asked me to be your girlfriend, either. So, yeah, you didn't do anything... And then I just... I found something that confirmed I'm nothing like what you want. So, maybe you're not welcome here anymore because I don't think I was ever welcome in your life."

"Sweetheart, how can you say that?" Eddie asked in confusion. "I'm ashamed of you? No, that's the farthest from the truth! Where is this - I don’t understand.”

"C’mon, Eddie. You literally run the other way when it comes to even seeing me in public," I pointed out. "If you're ashamed, that's one thing. If you just don't want to be in a relationship, that's another. But I don't think you really want to be with me, so, let's just cut our losses."

"What the hell could you have seen that made you think I don't want you?" he scoffed. "Darlin', I just - I'm not very good at this shit, okay? And I'm the Freak, remember? You're gonna take more of a social hit dating me than I will - I just wanted to try and protect you from the ridicule coming your way for even being seen with me."

"Then that's my decision to make," I shrugged.

"You're right," he agreed. "And I'll let you make that decision on your own, but that's if you even want to be with me. 'Cause apparently you've found something that's so Earth-shattering, it's making you think I don't want you. Darlin', I worship you, okay? So whatever it is, I promise it’s not what you think.”

"Then why... Why don't I look like them?"

"What?" He asked. "Like who, doll?"

"I know it’s stupid but… The women you look at in magazines, okay? The women you fantasize about - those women. Why don't they and I look alike?"

Eddie looked gobsmacked for a moment but recovered quickly, speaking softly but strongly, “Because they're exactly that, pretty girl, a fantasy. Nothing like the real thing," he smiled at me. "And for whatever it's worth, I look at a variety of things, so, the odds of you lookin' like one of the women I look at... Are actually pretty high."

"Eddie - "

"No, I'm serious," he smirked, "'cause I just think about you most of the time. Those women might get me started but it's the thought of you that takes me out, hmm?"

"Oh, my God," I couldn't help but laugh, "okay, okay, you've made your point.”

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I guess I just got a little in my head.”

"So, why're you home instead of at practice? You’re always over thinkin’ something, why’s your head all in a twist?”

"Well, you, Munson, put my head in a twist pretty consistently. And for the record, it started as an insecure week that required a lot of self-care."

"Well, what's on the agenda for tonight?"

"Um, gonna paint my nails and watch a few movies?"

"Got room for one more?" He pouted dramatically. "Missed you this whole week, and I barely got to see you last week, too."

"I think I could squeeze you in somewhere," I smiled with a nod, opening my arms to let him step over the threshold and into my embrace. Against his chest, I spoke, "If I didn't want to be with you, Munson, I wouldn't be. So, don't go worrying about protecting my reputation, because I'm only concerned with my happiness - and you make me pretty damn happy.”

I felt Eddie's arms tighten and his lips press to the top of my head, "Good plan, baby. And I'm only concerned with your happiness, as well."

"All right, kiss-ass, you’re already invited in. Don’t gotta lay it on too thick.”

“Oh, so, I don’t have to offer to paint your toes?”

I paused, letting my chin press to his chest as he smirked down at me. “Well now, wait a minute…”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #stranger thing s4 #stranger things 4 #stranger things season 4 #stranger things #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson x y/n #requests open

[chvoswxtch]

Congratulations on 3k!!! You deserve all of that and more!!! Thank you for all your hard work and excellent writing!!! <3

Can I request a midnights (from the vault) ticket with either Matthew or Frank (up to you because for the life of me I couldn’t decided. I feel it fits Matt better but Frank is my number 1 boy 🥴) with the quote “You, you love it how I move you. You love it how I touch you. My one, when all is said and done. You'll believe God is a woman”

oh nonnie, i know frank is your main guy, but this song is so matty coded

and y'all know i love some good slutty religious imagery

thank you so much for stopping by the tour!!! 🖤

as a reminder, from the vault means it's spicy! (minors dni)

blurb below the cut

god is a woman (matt's version) (from the vault)*

when all is said and done / you’ll believe god is a woman

Matt didn’t think it was humanly possible to feel this way. He was suspended in a delectable juxtaposition of his body feeling so tightly wound up, but also so completely free despite his righteous fists being pinned to the mattress above his head. His pleas for mercy got mistranslated on their journey from his brain to his tongue and ended up becoming repetitive prayers for more.

But you didn’t punish the Devil for his greed.

Instead, you granted him exactly what he asked for.

After all, he’d been such a good boy. Matt never hesitated to drop to his knees to beg for your forgiveness when another late night turned into another early morning with cold, empty sheets. He often sought retribution at the altar between your thighs, confessing his sins with his wicked tongue tracing each letter of his prayer of penance against your clit. He’d stay on his knees and worship you for as long as you could stand it, and then he’d seek communion in your body, and only when you baptized his greedy cock with the pure essence that flooded from your temple did he finally feel forgiven.

But tonight, you weren’t waiting for Matt to attend worship on his own. You were demanding it.

The fucked out look on Matt’s face as you rode his cock and held his strong hands captive, rendering him fully at your mercy, sent a surge of power through your veins. The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, the most feared man in the city, was writhing and whimpering beneath you, begging and pleading, and it made you feel like a God. 

Moving your hips in slow, purposeful circles, you elicited the most beautiful hymn from Matt’s lips. He was so close to escaping purgatory, the entrance to the heaven within you dangling in front of him like enticing forbidden fruit. An angelic note of faux sympathy sounded from your lips as you stared down at him.

“You need it, don’t you baby?”

Every single one of Matt’s senses were completely overstimulated, and he was nearly on the verge of tears, he was so desperate. His blank hazel eyes stared up in your direction as if you were the heavens, and his kiss bitten plump lips were parted as he panted, calling out your name over and over like you were the only deity he could remember the name of. He prayed harder to you than he had ever prayed for anything in his entire life. He needed you to grant him permission to the Eden within your walls.

“pleasepleasepleaseplease…”

A deviant grin stretched across your lips watching your Devil fall from grace.

“Let me have it, Matty. Give it all to me.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, and you knew he would. Matt was devoutly and irrevocably yours; body and soul. 

And at that moment, his God was a woman, and it was you.

#court's 3k followers celebration #court's 3k friends celebration #the eras tour (court's version) #matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock request #matt murdock blurb #matt murdock smut #daredevil #daredevil request #daredevil blurb #daredevil smut

[jaemified]

major, minor, and the things in between - nishimura riki

"are we friends, lovers, or whatevers in between?"

pairing ; nishimura riki x fem!reader

genre ; slice of life, enemies to lovers-ish (y/ns mean to riki smh), romance, drama, fluff, small angst, non idol au

warnings ; swearing, drinking, brief mention of blood (someone gets cut), mention of offing yourself but its just niki making a joke

wordcount ; 7.0k

synopsis ; though never quite well acquainted, sim y/n had always felt strongly against nishimura riki, until her brother jake had forced them to get along. but, what was meant to have them get closer turns into something a little more.

note (5/29) - there isnt rlly much mention of jake/nikis actual siblings but for one scene theirs like additional (baby) siblings

note (7/10) - its finally here!! im a little upset it took me 2 months to write 7k since i used to be able to write 4k in 8hrs but summer has been kicking my ass so im glad its out despite being 10 days past release date

taglist 🏷️ ; @stinkoscope @asyleums

read below the cut !

"'when im with you, i.. im so happy. i like you, na bora!' 'i like you. i like you too! i really really like you!'" y/n cried at her computer screen, rewatching 20th century girl for the 2nd time this week, before being so rudely interrupted by her brothers presence, bugging her with the same, repetitive question. the same question hes been asking for years on end now.

"the guys are coming over and of course you know niki is gonna be here as well. i want you to talk to him. why cant you just be friends?"

"id appreciate it a lot if youd leave, this is my space."

"i dont know if you noticed, but this is a small flat with not much room to move around. its not only you living here you know." jake reminded.

of course y/n knew there was limited space, she knew the moment she first realized she had already circled about the unit, trying to escape her brothers nagging.

"if you know theres not enough room for you and me then what makes you think theres room to accommodate an additional 6 other grown ass men. go to your room, im doing homework.'

'annoying..'

"you were literally just crying watching 20th century girl milliseconds before i walked in, and im not asking much y/n! all i want is for you to talk to him, even pretend like youre getting along, thats it!" jake remarked, before catching the pillow y/n attempted to throw at his face.

'so damn annoying.' y/n thought, growing more and more annoyed by her brothers constant nagging as each second passed.

"whats so hard about getting along with niki? hes a good kid!" jake complained. since his little sister couldnt get along with one of his best friends, it made even the intimate gatherings.. unpleasantly awkward.

"hes annoying, like you are being right now."

"no, why do you really hate him so much."

"i dont know! he just reminds me of someone i guess? and he always cheated on projects back in middle school. even stole my ideas so he could make it look like im in the wrong."

"thats it? youre holding a grudge over him just being a middle school kid from, what, 5 years ago? cmon, theres gotta be something better then that. not to mention even if there wasnt, that makes you sound hella dumb holding a grudge from the 7th grade when youre graduating next year."

y/n thought to herself. of course there was another reason, but it seemed unnecessary to bring up. and she also just didnt want to share it with jake. or maybe, it wasnt the right reason after all.

"well hes cocky as hell and is still a better dancer, basketball player, volleyball player then i, not to mention ive been playing longer and layla likes him more then she likes me!"

"thats your fault youre never home, laylas just more used to him. and me. i am clearly her favorite between you and i."

"more like his fault hes practically living in my apartment cause hes never at his own home. and how can she be more used to him when ive known her since way before she met riki.."

"tough luck." jake pat y/n on the head on his way out before shutting the door.

__________________________________________

the sound of the doorbell awoke y/n from her, well, what was meant to be a quick nap (which later turned into a 4 hour sleep). just as she slowly got out of bed to answer it, she heard jake yell from down the hall, "ive got it! make sure you dont look stupid or anything in front of my friends!"

she rolled her eyes and climbed back into bed, thinking about her outfit. standard pajamas, plaid shorts and a black tee (which probably wasnt even hers). she thought about how the one person out of the 6 she didnt want to see would be out there. truth be told, even she herself didnt know the best explanation as to why she hated riki so much. y/n figured it was because of a little mishap back during freshmen year and she just couldnt bring herself to apologize for everything that had been said during that time, so she forced herself to continue hating him. 'yeah, seems about right.'

the sound of the door opening caught her attention and the next thing she knew, there was a boy in a cream essentials hoodie jumping onto her.

"oh shit, what the f-"

"hi y/nnn!" sunoo smiled, carefully getting off his best friend.

y/n was in joy once she realized who it was, and brought him into a tight hug.

"hey sunoo! god it feels like forever since i last saw you!"

it was really only a week.

"i know right! its been too long!"

she smiled, no matter what mood she was in, sunoo always was the sunshine in the rain.

"so, whos here?"

"oh, you know the usual. sunghoon, heeseung, jake, and jay hyung. niki and jungwon are supposed to be setting up something in the courtyard."

"setting up what?"

"a volleyball net. jake was on nikis ass all week and wanted him to 1v1 you while we all played basketball. jungwon just wanted to help however he could, hes been tired all week from his job and the dance program."

no fucking way.

"youre saying i have to be alone, with nishimura riki? hell no!"

"isnt it great?" "this is a disaster!" they both exclaimed in unison.

"how is that bad?" "how is this good?!"

sunoo signaled for y/n to continue first. "i just cant stand riki. jakes been on my ass to talk to him but i didnt think hed actually talk to him, or that hed even listen either."

"seriously? i always thought you had a thing for him. i mean, you look good together, you both share mainly the same interests, mainly the same circle, not to mention the undeniable love you have when your eyes meet-"

"okay thats enough! you know what, how bout we go outside, im hungry anyway."

sunoo shrugged and went along with y/n down the hall.

he was slightly surprised when he saw niki and jungwon sitting on the couch, having a sip of their drinks.

"back already? i thought you were setting up the nets."

"yeah, but it was easier then expected. and we didnt even need to go to the lobby for the stuff. it was all already in the courtyard." jungwon told the two with a smile, proud of their work.

"y/n." niki looked at her with that stupid grin she had always hated.

"nishimura."

"i didnt know youd be here." he observed, ignoring how she had addressed him by his last name instead of niki, or riki.

she scoffed, crossing her arms.

"i live here dipshit. you think id run away just cause i knew you were coming?"

niki got up from his seat and walked closer, and closer, until their faces were mere centimeters away.

"just like you ran from all our problems in freshmen year huh?"

"you realize it was all because of what you did, dont you?"

it took niki a minute to notice how close they were. he looked down at her lips before realizing what sunoo and jungwon were saying in the background. "are they about to kiss?"

"hell no!" y/n and niki both yelled out in unison, quickly pushing away from each other.

"whatever. i need to use the bathroom, i cant stand seeing your face." she remarked to niki.

as soon as y/n closed the bathroom door, she let out a breath she never knew she was holding in, slowly trying to register what had just happened. 'did i really almost kiss him.'

minutes after being stuck in the bathroom for so long, she left and walked into the main living space, only to notice everyone was gone.

well, almost everyone.

"are you serious."

y/n dryly stared at the boy sitting on her couch, in her spot, watching her favorite show.

"i forgot you were still here." niki yawned.

"where is everyone?"

"did you seriously not hear them say theyre gonna get food and that theyll be back in.. three hours or more?"

"three hours or more? it does not take that long to get food, youre fucking with me." y/n walked into hers and jakes individual bedrooms to see if anyone was hiding from her, to her dismay, niki wasnt lying.

"it does if youre getting food from busan."

"why the fuck are they going all the way to busan for food??"

"language! my young ears cant take this!"

"shut up nishimura youre only 11 days younger."

"more like 11 years at heart cause you act like a grumpy old lady all the time.."

"whatd you just call me?"

"nothing!"

"so why are they going all the way to busan for food again?" y/n reminded, getting niki back on track.

"cause they got a friend whos house is down there and hes in town for the weekend, they said theyll bring us home our own order."

y/n walked into the kitchen, rummaging for food.

"what are you doing now?"

"looking for food, im gonna die if i see your ugly ass face any longer."

"what are you on about 'ugly'? girls at school love this face."

"and apparently you loved those girls too much in return.."

niki got up from the couch and walked over to the kitchen bar, sitting down. "are you still mad at me about that?"

she stopped what she was doing and looked at niki, not saying anything, hoping it was enough of an answer.

"so you are." 'so he isnt all that dumb'

"look, i didnt know she had bad intentions, and you were right, i shouldve listened to you. but you really have to stop avoiding me. how was i supposed to tell you i didnt realize what she was trying to do if you keep running away?"

"how do you not realize no matter how many times i warned you?"

"i thought you did it because you were jealous."

"i did it because i loved you!"

niki froze, thinking he was crazy, thinking maybe he hadnt heard right.

"you what?"

"past tense. loved, not love. and how could you think so badly of me? we were supposed to trust each other, always tell the truth, and you thought i told you she would end up using you was because you thought i was jealous? how could you?"

he sighed, thinking about what he had done, realizing how badly he had mistreated y/n in the past, realizing there was no reversing it. he walked into the kitchen where y/n was, backing her into the corner as the kitchen was just as small as the apartment itself.

"get away from me!" she yelled, throwing ramen packet after ramen packet at niki.

"no. i know i havent been the best to you-" "more like you know youve been the worst."

niki glared at y/n.

"-and i know theres no reversing it. i realize i cant undo the past, but what i can do, is fix our future. i want to show you i can be better to you then i was then. we can be what we used to be before, us. our spark."

"there is no us, or we, or, our. but maybe just you, caught up in your daydreams." y/n pushed niki out the way, and walked out the kitchen, not noticing she was slowly being followed.

"i loved you too you know. except for the fact that i still do."

"can you just please leave." she turned around, now facing him.

her vision blurred, head dizzy, face stained, all as her glass like tears trickled down her cheeks.

"hey, its okay. dont cry."

"get away from me!"

niki attempted to hug y/n as she fought against him, trying to run from his grasp, struggling to no avail. she eventually fell still in his hold, forgetting its natural warmth and comfort.

"im sorry for everything." was the last thing y/n heard before falling asleep, growing tired and stressed from everything that had just happened.

__________________________________________

it was late at night by the time everyone else had come back, 2am to be exact. traffic was unusually heavy though it was a saturday night, not to mention the designated driver and his understudy (heeseung and sunghoon. yikes, scary night) ended up being the most wasted while everyone else was still tipsy. poor jungwon, still tired from a 4 hour nap after being on 2 hours of sleep all day, had to drive everyone through the slow traffic.

jake, who was slightly sobering up, turned on the lights in the dark room and dimmed them as his head was still throbbing. he walked into the living room and saw y/n, fast asleep with her head on nikis shoulder with his arm around her as he finished the rest of avengers endgame.

jake knew his sister well enough to know she had been crying once he focused on her puffy red eyes. but, it was a sweet moment, y/n was passed out, niki was barely conscious, and everyone was painfully drunk or achey. he figured he would just yell at riki for whatever happened in the morning.

sunghoon and heeseung ran into the kitchen (as best they could without tipping over) for water, jungwon had knocked out as soon as he sat down in the chair next to y/n, jay was busy trying to figure out how to use jakes water filter, and sunoo was sitting at the kitchen bar eating a pudding cup.

jay called for jakes help, just as his eyes had fluttered shut. begrudgingly so, jake got up and helped the three boys it the kitchen. "you press the bottom button, not the top button. the top is for ice."

"thanks." "yeah whatever."

"i know youre tired hyung, but so are we. where are we all supposed to sleep?" sunoo quietly asked, putting his hand on jakes shoulder.

he thought, looking at the three sprawled out in the living room, and the three bubbling nonsense in the kitchen. "jay and sunghoon can stay with me, ill move niki and y/n to her room, you can stay in the living room with jungwon and heeseung hyung. but move jungwon to the couch since he drove everyone."

"thanks-" sunoo cut himself off as he heard the sound of jakes receding footsteps.

__________________________________________

morning came, and though it wasnt a good one, y/n wanted to remedy that. or, remedy the nasty hangover she knew everyone would be experiencing.

she had woken up with her eyes puffy and red, and even though she didnt want to get up she knew she would have to eventually.

"is that hangover soup i smell?" jake asked tiredly, rubbing his eyes as he walked out his room.

"well i know riki doesnt know how to cook and jungwons still asleep. so who else would be making it?" y/n flashed a tired smile, pouring a serving for jake.

"so, why were you crying last night? and dont say you werent or that you just didnt sleep well. ive lived with you long enough now to tell the difference between your 'i didnt get enough sleep' eyes, and your 'i was crying pretty hard' eyes." he interrogated as he took a big sip of the soup. so good he almost felt better already.

"what did he tell you? or were you watching me?"

"he didnt tell me anything, he was already asleep by the time we came back. i just saw the look on your face and knew."

"just reminiscing on some bad times is all."

jake raised a brow at his sister, taking another sip.

"you dont have to tell me now if you dont want to. but i do want to hear about everything. later. when my head isnt pounding like when i heard mom push you out in the emergency room. after i take a nap. and when youve bought jungwon some coffee."

"me? why do i have to buy him coffee? im not the one who drove him because the designated drivers were too wasted."

"we typically treat him to an iced americano since hes always up taking care of us when were drunk, but we havent gotten this wasted in a while. and he spent so long getting sunghoon out the house, not to mention the long drive to the point he ended up falling asleep as soon as we got back."

y/n thought about it before mumbling a, "tough luck" to jake, patting him on the back before walking into her bedroom.

she was met with the sight of niki making the bed as she walked in. "when did you wake up?" she quietly asked.

"not too long ago, you?"

"about an hour ago. i had to cook for them."

"ah. did you sleep well? i know sleeping upright on the couch mustve been a lot less comfortable then this."

"i guess. i dont remember waking up to walk here though. jake probably carried me."

"he was way wasted, snoring loudly way before i woke up. how else do you think you got here?"

it took a minute for it to click in y/ns mind when she realized it was niki who took her to the room and slept next to her. this whole time, she thought it was her brother who lent his own room to his friends.

"of course not, he just asked me to help or make sure you got to bed safely and that i could stay with you since there was nowhere else."

'that bastard.. ill kill him one of these days. im surprised i havent already.' she spoke to herself in her head.

"so. are we good now?" niki questioned, walking over to the other side of the room.

"how can you ask me such a thing after making me relive one of the worst memories of high school ive ever had?"

"it wasnt my intention. i was just trying to explain-" "theres nothing to explain when i had already given you multiple warnings. thats on you."

y/n threw a pillow at niki and walked away, back outside.

"what was that all about?" sunghoon asked, taking a sip of the coffee he had just made. 'where did he get silk pajamas from. are- are those mine?'

"what?"

"not to bother, but i mean, you were kind of yelling." heeseung explained to y/n.

she let out a sigh, rubbing her forehead in stress.

"i dont want to talk about it right now. i- actually. you know what? ill be back."

"where are you going?" sunoo asked y/n, following her to her room just as niki walked out.

"somewhere, not sure yet. dont follow me."

"i wont, i know how much you value your alone time but- oh youre changing. hold on ill turn around. but please be safe. when will you be back?"

sunoo turned back around and saw she had changed into beige cargos and a white crop top. realizing he was staring, he looked around the room, before a certain picture caught his eyes. he walked closer to get a better look. it was baby jake feeding yogurt to baby y/n. 'awe, they were always close werent they.' he hadnt even realized y/n was talking to him, and by the time he faced where y/n was standing, she had already left out the front door.

y/n🤨; srry, u were so immersed in that picture of jake and i as kids, but i rlly wanted to leave. i cant handle being around niki. see u l8r

sunoo😴 ; no worries, have fun, stay safe, and dont take any candy from strangers lol

__________________________________________

y/n drives to her favorite cafe she always used to visit with her brother, mama han's. she sits down at the bar and scrolls deep into her camera roll, coming across some mundane memories of her and riki back when they were close.

"what can i get you, hun?" the waitress, jiwoo, asked with a small grin. she didnt look to be any younger than 40 something now, compared to the last time she visited the spot. jiwoo was always the waitress here, even served the two frequently in their childhood when they visited from australia.

"just a vanilla shake is all. extra whip please."

"sweetie, arent you lactose? it must be pretty bad if you want extra dairy."

"yeah, it is. but, im not comfortable talking about it at the moment if thats alright."

"of course it is. just hope youre doing okay." jiwoo pat y/n on the shoulder, before reaching down to get the ingredients.

"hows your brother? havent seen either one of you in a while."

"hes well, a little hungover, but hes fine."

jiwoo laughed as she poured milk into the blender. "of course. what more to expect from your brother. well, how are you? i realized i didnt really ask."

"im alright. and, do you remember niki?"

"little niki from when you were kids? the one you used to like- oh dear, dont tell me hes the reason as to why youre so down?"

"long story, but yeah. its fine though, ill deal with it. but what about you, whats going on? did you ever pursue your dream as an actress?"

"no, and i regret not going for it. i didnt get to be in stairway to heaven, but shinhye and taehee did though. which is why you need to go for what you want, otherwise you really will regret it." jiwoo advised, adding the cherry on top of the extra whip prior to sliding the glass over to y/n.

"so i should forgive him?"

"if its what you want. though i dont know the backstory, i do know that as long as its something you want then its worth a shot. the worst he can say is no, you know?"

"yeah.. oh and jiwoo, can i get a chocolate shake to go?"

"no problem, just give me 4 minutes. and- oh dont worry about it, put your card away! its on the house."

___________________________________________

y/n heard her phone buzz in the center console as she pulled into an empty parking lot. she turned the engine off the car and pulled out her phone.

sim jaeyun ; Can you come home

Y/n Sim ; can u stop using caps

sim jaeyun ; I don't think it matters but okay

sim jaeyun ; can you stop disappearing whenever you're mad at someone

Y/n Sim ; can you change my name so its not in caps

sim jaeyun ; can you stop changing the topic and just drive back because niki wants to talk to you and i was getting worried

Y/n Sim ; can u change my name

'sim jaeyun' has changed your display name to 'y/n sim'

y/n sim ; i bought u a shake from jiwoos

sim jaeyun ; no you didn't she probably got it to you for free

y/n sim ; cz im her fav sim

sim jaeyun ; im going to tell all the guys about how you pissed yourself at disneyland on splash mountain

y/n sim ; driving home rn

sim jaeyun ; no texting while driving love u

y/n sim ; lyt

she let out a small laugh at her brothers texts. she quickly got out the car, taking some pictures of the sunset for her instagram, and posting it, before driving out as the milkshake was beginning to melt.

niki got the alert y/n had posted and pressed the notification at the top of his screen. he didnt miss how the caption referenced wave to earth as it was always their favorite band to listen to together.

@/05sim_y/nn ; how can my day be bad when im with u? - [9m ago]

liked by @/02sim_ikeuu, @/suniskim, and 99 others - 20 comments

@/rikimura has liked this post ! [now]

___________________________________________

after getting back home and taking a relaxing shower (thanks to everyone leaving 2 hours prior), y/n had continued to keep herself up at night for the past week before deciding it was time to talk to riki.

she pushed her feelings aside, waking up on a random wednesday morning at the crack of dawn then randomly told herself 'ive got to do this, for my brothers sake and our friend group.' (or so she unconvincingly tried to convince herself, but thats already another thing she didnt want to get into at the moment) y/n quickly threw on whatever clothes she could gather laying about the floor, then ran to grab her car keys and hurry out the door.

as soon as she swung the big piece of metal open, she was met with the familiar sight of nishimura riki knowing when hes done wrong, his guilty face, with his hand raised and ready to knock.

"what are you doing here at the ass crack of dawn?"

"what are you doing ready to run out your apartment like its the olympics as the ass crack of dawn?" he responded to her question with a question, with the intent of knowing how much she hated it.

"actually, i was about to leave to see you. i think its time we had a talk. you know, after my.. moment, that i had last week."

"yeah. i know. its not your fault i realize now, or, im telling you that but ive realized it since the moment i lost you. i think-"

niki was interrupted by jake shouting from across the flat, "if youre gonna finally have this talk i think you should go somewhere else! can you leave soon? 'cause my girlfriends gonna come over at like 12!"

"i seriously doubt any place is open for us to be going to at 5:41 in the morning." y/n yelled in response.

"you know well mama han's is open now, and jiwoo works day and night, just go there so i can be alone!" "for 7 hours?"

niki laughed in response as he registered what jake and y/n were arguing over.

"what girlfriend?-" "-talking stage, technically, but he says theyre dating because she accidentally kissed his cheek on their first date when reaching to grab something near him."

"i remember her lips on my skin like it was yesterday, meanwhile you have yet to kiss niki." jake scoffed in english, the words flowing smoothly off his tongue with his accent before walking closer towards where y/n was standing.

"gross. if anything her accidentally very barely brushing her lips against your stupid face is the only action youll ever be getting if you keep trying to get rid of your one and only favorite little sister." y/n muttered in response, slightly ignoring niki muttering about how he thinks y/ns accent sounds cute.

"really?"

-

and so y/n found herself driving to mama han's cafe with niki after jake called their eldest brother, complaining she should listen to him because shes younger and if she wouldnt listen to jake himself then maybe she would listen to her older-older brother.

"you should listen to your older siblings but jake, if you had someone coming over you shouldve told her in advance. and what are you even gonna do alone for 6 hours??"

after being seated and placing their orders, niki brought back the conversation from earlier that had sort of been killed by jake.

"i get it, youre mad at me, and i shouldve listened to you. i know i fucked up and i know you see it too. i get it if you dont want to forgive me yet, or if you ever even will. but when you decide we could be good, im always here for you."

"why would i be here if i hadnt been prepared to forgive you?"

"huh?"

"i seriously question how dense you are sometimes."

"thanks for believing in me."

"no problem, but seriously. i forgive you. as much as i hate to admit it since i know youll use it against me, but i kinda missed having you around. i mean, you were my first love among other things but you were also one of my first and closest friends. it wont always be the same but im sure if we try enough we can get pretty damn close."

"god have you always been so philosophical?"

the two burst into laughter together, smiling as they took a sip of their milkshakes, reminiscing on the times they had spent together in their earlier high school years. it was moments like these that they has missed the most.

by far the most fun together (said niki), by far the most fun theyve had in a while (said y/n) after having spent the morning together, discussing and going over whats happened in the past few hours before going to pay. "ive got it," niki said, pulling out his card. "its the least i can do."

"thank you for today. i know i was hard on you but i needed this."

"no worries, i think ive owed you for a long time now right?"

"i need to do something in here real quick. you mind waiting in the car?"

"wait are you gonna be okay? i dont wanna leave you here alone."

"im a regular here, i know the people. its fine."

"are you sure?"

"if you go ill let you have the aux."

thats all it took for niki to run straight for the car, rushing to open the door.

y/n laughed as she saw him waving from the passengers seat, before going to talk to jiwoo who was busy wiping down the counters. she took a seat at the bar and felt comfort as jiwoo flashed the same smile she always would throughout y/ns childhood.

"thats a hell of a boy youve got there. special one isnt he?"

"you could say that in the very least. hes definitely special to me though."

"thats the boy you were tellin my sister about? he aint from round here, that right?" an distinct, familiar, voice spoke from the back kitchen.

"auntie jiwon?" y/n questioned in shock.

jiwon is jiwoos sister, she also used to work at the cafe just as much as jiwoo did. had been a favoritre of the customers including the sims themselves before moving to the countryside, only popping up on occasion. jake would call jiwon auntie since she was older and it had also grown on y/n.

"thats my name isnt it?" she chuckled as y/n ran up to hug her.

"wow, i cant believe it. i havent seen you in like, 7 years!"

"been a long time right? well, im just down here for a short while before i gotta go back. just here for a weddin and thought to visit my sister at work."

"thats great auntie, too bad you arent here for longer."

"yeah, well. thats what happens when you get 3 divorces and run out of money, that right jiwoo? but, seriously, whats with that boy of yours? he dont seem to be from here."

"hes not, hes from japan, for the dance academy we all go to."

"that explains a bunch. i always knew youd be a dance. you have quite the physique for it, no?"

jiwoo interrupted jiwon from rambling on the way she always would, quickly seeing y/ns desire to leave as she has other things to tend to.

"alright well, im sure y/n has plenty of things to do as do we, so we all really should be going. its about time for the regulars to start coming in." jiwoo awkwardly laughed as she too seemingly forgot her sisters idiosyncratic personality.

"you dont want to spend time with your auntie jiwon is it? kids nowadays have no sort of respect for their elders. you could drive a preacher to drink!"

y/n awkwardly cleared her throat and put on a smile, frozen in a sort of way as auntie jiwon hadnt seemed to be the same as she was 8 years ago.

"oh im only joking now! go on then, ill just see you in another 8 years." she sighed, overexaggerating the moment.

"its not like youre her real aunt anyway." jiwoo muttered, yet jiwon heard it.

"like your supposed to be? what are you to her anyway?"

"someone whos around of course! i practically raised her and babysitted her on top of running a restaurant with my own children whenever her parents would be in office from dusk till dawn with her brother busy at school with his own life."

"i was there too you know! she would tell me things she never told you."

"she only told you things because you made her! she was scared of you!" jiwoo rolled her eyes at jiwon before quickly gesturing for y/n to go.

"what are you doing- where is she going?" "somewhere where youre not."

-

as y/n go back into the car, she slightly scared niki in the middle of a game.

"what happened in there? looked kinda tense. never seen the other lady before."

"jiwoos sister. shes kinda crazy and possessive and scary. didnt even know she came back."

"maybe we should go.. shes kinda walking towards the car so i suggest to step on the gas."

"shit- shes what??"

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

within the next few months, niki and y/n drew closer to one another like they were before.

it was only a matter of time before their unresolved feelings for one another began to surface, yet they continued to push it down with all their might, not wanting to ruin anything like before.

so here y/n was, watching some random kdrama out of boredom, completely uninterested before she received a text from niki.

nishimura ; help

sim ; with what

nishimura ; baysitinf

sim ; the fuck

nishimura ; hold - my brother just took my phone

sim ; babysitting?

nishimura ; yes pls

nishimura ; jake literally js dropped off ur sister here while my brother was having a hyper thingy

nishimura ; hes just very hyper

nishimura ; send a swat team.

sim ; i dont rlly wanna watch sarang tho😐

nishimura ; BUT ITS UR SISTER??

sim ; yea but she’s a headache i have to deal with that like every weekend

sim ; i gave her to jake so i can have a free day just for her to bounce back to me😒 sim ; i hate guys named jake

nishimura ; thats what u get for abandoning a 5 year old

sim ; then im not helping

nishimura ; that lego set i bought you arrived today

sim ; see u in 20

and so here y/n found herself driving towards nikis apartment, reminding herself to lecture her brother once they both get home.

“good thing you came otherwise i mightve actually killed myself.”

“this better be good, i dropped crash landing on you for this.”

with that, niki stepped aside to point at the kids behind him without breaking eye contact with y/n, not wanting to look inside only to furrow his brows as she tilted her head in confusion.

“is this a joke?” she scoffed.

“what are you talking about?” his jaw dropped once he saw sarang and hiro getting along together just fine, completing some puzzle together. “i swear they werent getting along and hiro was just bouncing off the walls, plus sarang was like having a meltdown about ice cream!”

y/n slightly grinned then spoke, “you look fine. they look more then fine. you don’t need my help. did you just want an excuse to see me?”

“no! i- i mean i kinda wanted to see you but that’s not why- i, ughh!”

y/n held back a small laugh at nikis frustration before she heard the two kids watching them giggle adoringly at their older siblings.

“riki has a girlfriend!” “y/n has a boyfriend!” hiro and sarang exclaimed in excitement.

“im going home.”

“absolutely not.” y/n groaned in annoyance while niki pulled her into the house by grabbing onto her shoulder.

“so.” he awkwardly started, rubbing the back of his neck nervously with the palm of his hand.

“so??”

“about yesterday.”

“what about it.”

“we’re good right?”

“of course we are.” she reassured.

just as niki was able to reply, sarang began to cry loudly, like she saw a monster in her closet or something.

“what happened?”

“i cut myself!” she cried, showing the skin between her fingers. her and hiro had been doing small arts and crafts for the past hour, so she has hurt herself with the scissors.

“just put a bandaid on and ice it.” y/n rolled her eyes, shaking her head while not even bothering to look up from her phone.

“you’re so mean y/n unnie!” sarang pouted before holding her ‘injured’ hand up to nikis face.

“what is this, the school nurse? you gotta be a more helpful sister then that.”

“i am helpful. i asked her what happened then gave her a solution.”

“but you were so mean to her.”

“im teaching her to be tough! our parents were hard on me and my brothers, so we have to be hard on her.”

“but you aren’t your parents. you’re y/n.”

“but what if i don’t want to be just y/n?”

“well, then that’s not something you can control. you’re you whether you like it or not. you gotta learn to accept life as it is. that’s what really being hard on yourself is, and that’s what it does to you.”

niki goes over to sarang to pick her up and carry her over to the kitchen. he sets her on the counter and grabs a pastel flower print bandaid before placing a small kiss onto where he placed the bandaid.

he coos at her lovingly, with him who’d always seen her as his own sister having had watching her grow up since she was born despite her not really remembering much of him.

y/n felt her heart melt as she saw how good he was with her baby sister.

she got up from her seat to go over where they were, wrapping her arms around nikis waist to envelop him with into a warm back hug, pressing her head into the space between his shoulder and neck, letting it rest there.

“mean unnie.” sarang stuck out her tongue at y/n, pushing her face away from niki as she stuck out her tongue back.

“what are you, 5?”

“no but she is.”

niki sighed before pulling away (he really didnt want to but you didnt need to know that) grabbing his car keys, and picking up his brother.

“let’s go for some ice cream.”

so here you were, sitting at the local ice cream parlor together.

niki’s face turned as he watched you absolutely devour those three scoops (scoups) of mint chip.

“i seriously dont see how you could eat that. it tastes like toothpaste.”

“why are you talking when you’re eating plain vanilla.”

“hey, sometimes basic is better!”

“well you don’t have to like mint then. ‘cause me and this kid do!” she jokingly replied, hugging said kid (hiro) while niki and sarang rolled their eyes with their vanilla cones.

“hate to be a bother, but you guys are such a cute little family. youre just like me with my kids when they were still young. and, little girl, you really have your fathers eyes.” an elder women from a table across the parlor smiled, patting y/n and niki on the shoulder as she ignored her husbands remarks “stop disturbing the little couple!”

“do we really look like a family?”

“sort of, if you really think about it.”

“okay but she had to be lying because your eyes look nothing like sarangs.”

“i mean.. if you look closely enough.”

“you aren’t even korean!”

they laughed together, for the first time in a while.

“okay, but on a serious note. what are we? are we friends, lovers, or whatever’s in between?”

“i mean.. I guess for now, in between.”

“please date y/n unnie! shes sooo lonely and boring.” sarang interrupted, tugging on nikis sleeve.

“yeah! and i want more playdates with sarang!” hiro pouted, looking up with puppy eyes at y/n.

niki laughed at the kids’ reactions, before taking y/ns hand into his.

“well, no matter what you decide, let’s see where this takes us. they seem to be up for it anyway.”

“you’re right. alright, fine. but if you fuck this up again, you realize you’re not getting another chance, right?”

“i promise i won’t hurt you again. it already cost me everything last time.”

“glad you’re aware.” she bitterly mumbled.

“so. you will date me then?”

“ill think about it.”

#kpop imagines #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #jake sim #niki enhypen #niki x reader #nishimura niki x reader #nishimura riki #riki imagines #enhypen niki #jungwon x reader #enhypen imagines #niki x you #nishimura niki #riki au #enhypen riki #enhypen reactions #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfic #park sunghoon #heeseung #yang jungwon #jungwon #jungwon imagines #nishimura riki x reader #enhypen jay #jaemified

[soundbulb]

my friends tease me for loving manosphere stuff, which is true, but they always find it kind of baffling and I guess I did too until I realized the manosphere men admired the men in these shows. obviously we all wish we could monologue in beautifully paced and well articulated philosophy, that's not what I'm saying, but the men who like this story seem incapable of viewing rust cohle as someone who is expressing beliefs that create ironic tension in his own narrative, same as marty.

it's not quite as bull in a china shop as marty saying "a man needs boundaries" in monologue while we watch him break down the door of the twenty something woman he's cheating on his wife with. but from the moment rust brings up "encouraging the capacity for illusion" it becomes glaringly obvious rust's mainlining of the secrets of the universe -- as well as the bulk of his philosophies outcropped from grief -- are exactly that same encouragement of illusion. "the world needs bad men" and "it was never supposed to work, the whole man-woman thing" is hitting you over the head in the context of the show; rust is ducking and hiding. it's intolerable, how grief irrevocably changed him as a person, the marriage that crumbled from that grief ("we turned on each other"), and the resentment it bore, and not because nature programmed it to end but because it all just did.

but that belief, that nature programmed it to end, is an extension of his idea of time as a flat circle. if you will be reborn into the life you've always been born into, than none of these choices are really yours to begin with. none of what happens has anything to do with you, which is how it feels when you lose everything to an accident on some regular day. so if you believe you're wrought through every motion in repetition, then in this repetition you're exponentially separated from anything resembling agency. but still, nature's programming is You, somewhere at some point in imperceptible time; You at one point lived the life for the first time, then over and over and over, it's Your programming, Your design. the marriage ended who knows how many times. it was never meant to work. your kid died who knows how many times because she was always going to, and you have to continue even though it feels like you're trapped inside a predetermined motion, predetermined not by a benevolent power, or even a malignant one, but by You. everything you ever did or everything done to you happens over and over, there is no such thing as once. which is just true within our lifetimes, we still live inside our decisions, our trajectories, and the trajectories of other people worn on us.

but I'd be surprised if rust believed in a "first time" like that. it's like if you roll a marble on a looping track; an elastic collision got it going, but it's already on a loop. you're born without preexistence, but does this mean that first life is a byproduct of your decisions? in the same way gravity dictated you'd move kinetic, a certain shape, slowing and speeding up at this part and that part, can the same be said for how time dictates you move through your life?

but this is what it feels like when your life is completely devastated by something random. it's the aimless inattention of a couple people at the same time; it's positions in space and speed and impact, gravity; it's an accident. you can't cope with the scope of that. you'll lose everything, but of course the world doesn't change, and the giant devouring mystery is no closer to sated or understood or whatever you believe it seeks. it's in the same way a pandemic wipes through your life and leaves you injured and ill. a plague doesn't really care about anything but living, it was never about you; lives in you but doesn't know what You are, in the same way you don't know what massive devouring mystery you live inside.

even in the murder of dora lang and marie fontenot, murders that are actually committed by men with malice and forethought, there's this thing looming above these women and children as though they're likewise devoured by something too large, incapable of seeing them. this is why it's important that dora lang and marie fontenot are easy targets, "chum in the water". it's impersonal, the accumulation of hundreds of other things that made it easy to pick them off. for some of them it was hurricanes. I love the use of hurricanes in true detective, great use of massive destroying mystery. anyway, it's why marie fontenot's disappearance is paired with the "cerebral event" that paralyzes her uncle. all of these are acts of horror too large to perceive, and why this horror is cosmic depends on where you are in the narrative. is it because evil is a design of nature (or god)? is it because you were propelled into this motion, and gravity will bring you back here, to the moment you're devoured? is it because the only closeness to this mystery is in it's silence around you, incapable of speaking to something like you, so small it could never know you were there at all? that one comes at our half way point with joel theriot -- "all my life I wanted to be nearer to god. the only nearness, silence."

the men doing the killing believe they're feeding this cosmic mystery, that it's a mouth and gut and gets hungry for the people they already view as consumable. they make it into a god that demands sacrifices. rust seems to believe it doesn't need to be fed, it will always eat. his relationship to it is hard to pin down, it clearly guides him, but when he speaks of it it's more like it's coming for him. "it's like something's got your name on it, like a bullet or a long nail in the road."

I do relate to this instinct to embrace "there was never another version". whatever I've lost to encephalitis and it's autoimmune consequences, I have this feeling in my gut there's no version of life where it doesn't happen. there's no trajectory for the me before this except becoming the me in this and after this. I think that's why rust's version of grief does resonate so much, because there's nothing he can do about how random it is, so he turns it into a bullet with his name on it. what he embraces here is the morbid version of "it was fate".

so he's mystified his experience of grief, rightfully so, because grief is inherently mysterious, and that is quite literally the process of engaging your capacity for illusion. and ultimately the story isn't telling you what's eating you, it's saying you'd know it much better by it's silence than by anything definable, present.

#true detective #true detective season 1 #rust cohle #ht #htl

[majestyeverlasting]

Can you do a drabble with the prompts “come to bed” and “thank you for taking care of me”?

Of course! I really enjoyed writing this.

I've Got You

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Life's always sweeter when you're by each other's side.

Word Count: 1k

A/N: Part 2 of me failing to write a drabble.

The warm water pelting down on him nearly drowns out the tune he’s humming. He doesn’t recognize what song it is, but he reckons it’s something he used to know. After lathering the shampoo into his hair for a little while longer, he turns around to rinse it out. The suds are thick as they run down the expanse of his back, and just as he’s about to start humming a new verse, the bathroom door opens and he quiets. The sound of the last fleeting notes makes a small smile grace your lips. At least he’d found it within himself to sing, even if it was without words. He hadn’t said much when he first came home from his mission.  

“It’s me. I’m just getting your clothes,” you announce. Over the gentle rush of the water, you could almost hear a small sound of acknowledgement. You grunted softly as you bent down to collect his shirt, pants, and a few articles of tactical gear. “I’m gonna go put this stuff in the laundry room, okay? Holler if you need anything.” 

You’re too good to him. He stares down at his feet, watching as the water finally runs free of any suds. You haven’t left yet. He can hear you shifting and tinkering around. When you do eventually leave, he moves with more purpose as he cleans the rest of himself. He wants to be near you—needs to be near you. Rather than allotting himself the time to simply stand under the spray at the end of his shower, he cuts the water off as soon as there’s no more soap on him, and grabs his towel to begin drying off. After stepping out, he decides to brush his teeth to get it out of the way. 

You’re not there by the time he saunters into the bedroom, so he puts on his pajamas to the tune of his own thoughts. Most of them were repetitive. Either relating to the week he’d just spent in Europe, or the upcoming meeting Tony called for at the Compound. But, even then, they managed to circle back to you. In spite of everything that happened and all that was to come, he was home. And here, with you, he could breathe. 

His back is turned when you enter the room. And he can tell that you’re trying to tread lightly, so he doesn’t turn around to acknowledge you; he’s curious to see what you plan on doing. When you wrap your arms around him and nuzzle into his back, he nearly melts. Your fingers slip under the hem of his shirt to brush over his stomach for no particular rhyme or reason. But he likes it and wouldn’t mind if you never stopped. 

“Feeling better?” you asked softly. 

Bucky nods before realizing he should actually speak. You’ve spoiled him by being so in tune with his nonverbal cues. “Yeah,” his voice is a little gruff around the edges. “Missed you.” 

You squeeze him tighter. “I missed you too. I’ll sleep better now that I have my personal heater back.” He huffs out a laugh, and you’re reminded that one of the best feelings in the world is the gentle shake of his shoulders. “Want me to get your hair?” 

“Sure.” You use the hair tie resting on the dresser to put his damp hair into a low bun. He turns around when you're finished, and his eyes flutter when you brush your thumb over the scratch that’s already beginning to scab on his cheek. A disapproving furrow forms between your brows, and he bites back a smile. You regarded every new mark on his skin with the same distaste. After all these years, it felt good that you cared in that way. 

He turns his head to kiss your hand. “I’m alright.” 

“Still.” You cup his cheek and press your lips to his. A low hum vibrates through his chest. You pull away after giving him one last peck, and he watches you move to pull the covers back on the bed. 

Bucky walks to his side and follows suit, wasting no time climbing in. It’s only a couple hours past sunset, but the two of you always turn in fairly early when he comes back home from missions. Even if that just means laying in bed talking until sleep takes you under. He’s expecting you to climb in alongside him, but you turn to head off elsewhere. At first, it looks like you plan on leaving the room altogether. His response is more of a knee jerk reaction than anything. 

“Where’re you going? Come to bed,” his voice is so sincere it makes you smile. 

“The bathroom. I've gotta take care of my personal hygiene too, Buck. Can I do that?” You give him a playful tilt of your head. 

“Yeah, doll. Sorry. I just—sorry.” He laughs at himself and shakes his head. 

“I’ll leave the door open so you can see me, how ‘bout that? I promise I’m not running away.” You’re just trying to make his cheeks grow warm now—and they do. But even as he settles into bed, he takes advantage of the door being open, shooting occasional glances your way as you move through your night routine. 

When you finally do crawl into bed, you press minty kisses all over his face and down his neck until his eyes are squinted and he’s trying his best to keep breathy chuckles from pouring from his mouth. And when he manages to turn the tables on you, you’re worlds more undignified in your pleading. You’re still giggling and swatting at him when he pulls away, and he takes your hand to press amused kisses to your palm. 

Your breaths eventually even out and you find yourself laying there, gazing into his eyes. It feels good to have him by your side again. 

“I needed that laugh.” You can hear the earnesty in his voice.  

“Glad I could be of service.” 

A short silence stretches between you before he speaks again, “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“I’ve got you and you’ve got me.”

-

Thanks for reading!

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x fem reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #winter soldier

[finleycannotdraw]

Shut Up and Dance With Me

Geralt has always known that soft things aren’t meant for him.

It’s why he pushed Jaskier away. It’s why he keeps away from towns when he’s not working. It’s why he denied his Child Surprise so vehemently for so many years. He was told that the world would have nothing for him but roughness, so he roughened himself in preparation and never truly relaxed.

Until now, that is.

He’d stumbled over his apology to Jaskier—not the one in the prison cell, his real apology—and the bard had laughed at him. He’d panicked for about two seconds, which was as long as it took for Jaskier to close the distance between them and pull Geralt into an embrace.

“I’ll always forgive you, dear heart,” he’d said. “It might make me fucking stupid, but that’s never stopped me before.”

“Taking my lines now, huh?” Geralt had replied, hugging Jaskier back with a bone-deep warmth he’d never felt before.

Maybe he’d never felt warm before because he never let himself get close enough to the heat.

Now, Jaskier is strumming his lute and singing some silly song about shutting up and dancing, and Ciri is giggling as she leads Geralt through the steps of a dance. Her hair is loose around her shoulders, and she’s wearing a dress that Jaskier and Yennefer had managed to produce from someplace or another.

“Spin me,” she says, laughing too much for it to sound like a proper order, but he obeys anyway, smiling indulgently as he grabs his daughter by the waist and lifts her up, spinning around a few times before setting her down, grasping her hand, and twirling her on her own feet. She laughs harder, her joy ringing out into the snow, into the music.

The music stops, but Jaskier keeps singing, and Geralt glances over to see the bard dancing with Lambert, both men laughing just as much as Ciri. It only takes another second for her to notice, and she spins once more with Geralt before reaching out to switch, falling into a waltz with Jaskier and leaving the two witchers to quickly decide whether to continue dancing.

Lambert decides for both of them, hooking his elbow around Geralt’s and skipping in a circle, dragging Geralt with him.

They switch directions a few times, and then Ciri is shoving her way between them to dance with Lambert, leaving Geralt to be caught deftly by Jaskier and maneuvered into a different dance, one that causes them to be pressed close together. Jaskier keeps singing, keeps grinning, but his eyes have softened as he gazes up at Geralt’s face.

Geralt, feeling seen and insecure, dares a glance toward his brother and daughter. Lambert, roaring with laughter, is throwing Ciri into the air and catching her with ease. Jaskier has gone through enough choruses that they both know the words, so as Lambert heaves Ciri upwards again, they’re both singing along.

“She said ‘shut up and dance with me!’”

Jaskier stops singing to chuckle at them, but joins back in during the next repetition, with one notable change.

“This witcher is my destiny,” he says teasingly, and looks nothing but delighted by the concept, unlike everyone else forced into Geralt’s life by destiny.

The thing is, Jaskier wasn’t a result of destiny. He’s here by choice, and if he’s so happy to joke that he’s destined to be here, with Geralt, then—

Geralt kisses him.

Jaskier makes a surprised humming sound and returns the kiss eagerly, his hands going from Geralt’s shoulders to the back of his neck as he stands up on his toes to get closer.

“Oi, bard, the song doesn’t end in the middle of the lyric like that, right? Why’d—oh,” Lambert says. “About time. Fucking morons.”

“Gross,” says Ciri. “But yeah. It is about time.”

Maybe Geralt wasn’t meant for soft things. But he’s learning, day by day, that maybe that doesn’t mean he has to live a life without them.

—

and here’s the rest of the drawing of all the dance combinations! the fic took me like 10 minutes and the drawing took a few hours😭

#geraskier #geralt & ciri #kaer morons #finley writes #my writing #finley cannot draw #the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier #ciri the witcher #cirilla fiona elen riannon #lambert the witcher #the witcher fic #LISTEN. #my bf hates ​jaskiers hair in s2 and I frown at him every time he mentions it but also. what if it was long enough to put in a ponytail. #just consider it. #and I know ciris hair is lighter and straighter than that but cmon yennefer and jaskier are important figures in her life #THEYRE GONNA DO HER HAIR ALL FANCY SOMETIMES

[gunsatthaphan]

God, what are your thoughts on today's episode of Only Friends?? I'm a bit mad at Sand but I know his lack of reaction to Boeing was mostly because he's too nice, but it's IRKING ME to no ends. I think we're already beyond the line and we'll definitely get a SandRay endgame but this is making me nervous 😭😭😭😭😭😭

I know everyone has different opinions on this but I'm actually relieved about the BoeingSand situation because I really feared the absolute worst lmao. First's words about that love scene are still lingering in my head and I don't think we're out of the woods regarding that so no idea what we'll be in for next week. Based on the preview I don't think that threesome is actually gonna happen lmao but we shall see. But considering what I was expecting, I'm okay with the situation for now lol. And like you said this also solidifies the SandRay endgame prognosis, not because of a possible hookup but because I don't see Boeing as a threat anymore after this episode. He's a joke.

This was the first episode where I sympathized with TopMew lol, I liked what Top said about their respective paranoia making them go in circles because that's exactly what I've been saying lol and it's the reason why I was never a fan of their story. It seemed repetitive for the most part but I liked their reconciliation in this episode. I was buying his remorseful speech 100% lol.

I did not follow the logic of Boston and Nick's revenge plan on Atom lmao how do those pictures prove that Boston is innocent? idk. I wonder how the New York situation will play out eventually, also Chueam forgiving Atom for almost ruining Boston's life??,,,, like okay now apologize to Boston please.

that's all I have to say about this episode lol. can't believe it's ending next week 😭

xxx

#only friends #only friends series #only friends the series #only friends ep11 #ofts #gmmtv #opinions #review

[dangermousie]

Dramas for the first half of 2023

Now that we are six months into 2023, time to do one of these posts. I am gonna include both Korean and Chinese dramas, because why not and any drama I even checked out is on it.

DRAMAS WATCHED

29. Romance of Twin Flower  (China) - make it cease existing! My favorite het web novel got murdered and then had its grave spat on.

28. Dominator of Martial Gods  (China) - if MST3K still existed, this drama would be prime material for it.

27. Wanru’s Journey  (China) - acting. Try it!

26. Royal Rumors  (China) - they tried acting. But forgot to try having a functional screenplay on top.

25. The Last Princess  (China) - acting is nonexistent and the story is trash but it never aspired to be what it wasn’t and was kinda cute.

24. Oasis  (Korea) - great acting in a story with a screenplay that goes round and round fruitlessly like a hamster in a cage.

23. The Trust  (China) - the OTP in this one swaps bodies but it would have been better for everyone if whoever made this and an actual competent writer swapped theirs.

22. Snow Eagle Lord  (China) - yet another drama in which Xu Kai does his best to keep acting opposite a wooden costar and through a terrible screenplay. There is something seriously wrong with that man’s career choices.

21. Heartbeat  (Korea) - the good: it’s harmless. The bad: it’s harmless.

20. Back from the Brink  (China) - ummm the people are pretty? And if I were 10 I’d be all about this show but as is...

19. Joseon Attorney  (Korea) - slightly less fun than reading a legal treatise.

18. The Starry Love  (China) - the definition of a xianxia playing it safe and pastel; I did love the secondary couple a lot but it was not enough to save that snoozefest of a drama.

17. Chong Zi  (China) - badly acted and a screenplay that somehow manages to be both repetitive and disjointed. But I am a sucker for the shizunfucker trope so here we are.

16. Island  (Korea) - a mess but Kim Nam Gil is hot with a sword.

15. Circle of Love  (China) - rationally, a hot mess. But so entertaining and addicting and fall of make outs of epicness!

14. Lady Durian  (Korea) - makjang from the Queen of Makjang and with that scrumptious cast! This is gonna be GOOD!

13. The Forbidden Marriage  (Korea) - sweet and oddly charming despite nobody in it bothering to act much.

12. Pledge of Allegiance  (China) - the way they had to edit it likely due to censorship made it less than it what could have been but still more than most dramas this year.

11. Choice Husband (China) - delicious cliches and tropes and angst in the rain!

10. Hidden Love  (China) - to make ME of all people to care about a fluffy modern is a bona fide miracle but the two mains are chemistry machines who portray longing so well.

9. Gone with the Rain  (China) - wildly uneven but our heroine and the sexy general she eventually chooses are pure gold!

8. The Secret Romantic Guest House (Korea) - how to do youth sageuk right. Everything about this just works!

7. Alchemy of Souls: Light and Shadow  (Korea) - it has flaws but is so gorgeous and full of longing and grief and everything good!

6. Tale of the Nine Tailed 1938  (Korea) - a sequel/prequel that is almost as good as the original, how often does that happen?

5. See You In My 19th Life  (Korea) - wacky and grieving, delicate and odd, this is everything I ever want in a kdrama.

4. Call It Love  (Korea) - a truly exquisite story of trauma and loneliness and healing and love.

3. Till the End of the Moon  (China) - gloriously messy in every way this is just MORE. The ending is enraging and there are issues but when it hits, it hits so hard the rest of it does not matter - the dark characters, the dysfunctional love story, the battles, the insane visuals, the EVERYTHING of it. This is what fantasy should be like.

2. Chang Feng Du/Destined  (China) - came out of nowhere to own my heart via its story of growing up and finding love and slow organic relationship building and keeping your soul in a world of horrors.

1. The Ingenuous One  (China) - the best one, so I am gonna talk about it below.

FAVORITE DRAMA

The Ingenuous One - so impossibly solid, from acting to visuals to screenplay to EVERYTHING! Adult characters with adult issues and choices, both moral dilemmas and battles equally compelling. The love stories, the friendships, the shades of grey. This is utterly and completely adult.

WORST DRAMA

Romance of the Twin Flower - if I could make one drama cease to exist, this would be it.

FAVORITE MALE CHARACTER

Tantai Jin, Till The End of the Moon - the best character this year hands down - by turns (and timelines) unhinged monster, a contained saint, a victim of abuse trying to attain being viewed as human, a schemer, a ruler, grief personified, curiosity and monstrosity and nobility all mingled.

Runner up: Jang Uk, Alchemy of Souls - sunshine boy gone dark and grieving, but still with that same core of steel.

FAVORITE FEMALE CHARACTER

Shim Woo Joo, Call It Love - she’s damaged and impulsive and relationship-phobic and revenge driven and glorious!

Runner Up:  Shu Ya Nan (The Ingenuous One) - allowed to be tough and dark and with her own agenda and not a member of a good sect and just so cool.

NEEDS TO BE MURDERED

Han Dong Jin’s Mom, Call It Love - that woman was horrifying and the source of so much of his trauma; a real realistic monster petty in all ways except for the damage she inflicted.

FAVORITE SHIP

Gu Jiusi/Liu Yuru, Chang Feng Du - wholesome and helping each other grow and talking it out but also there is blood feeding and midnight rescues and everything. They are good but not in the least boring.

Runner Up: Woo Joo/Dong Jin, Call It Love - two wounded souls finding such slow but such amazing healing with each other.

FAVORITE SECONDARY OTP

Su Ming Yu/Ke Menglan, The Ingenuous One - there’s actually been a lot of good secondary OTPs this year (General x Fox in TTEOTM, Investigator x Princess, TIO, Rang/Mermaid, TOTNT1938) but these two owned my heart - gentleman merchant x gambling hostess ftw.

NOTP

Romance of Twin Flower - they took my favorite het novel OTP, smart and coldblooded and forces of nature and turned them into THAT?

SHIRTLESSNESS AWARD

Xiao Hong Ye, Circle of Love - guy was a terrible abuser but those pecs were the real sin!

CRAZIEST FUNFEST

Circle of Love - screenplay written by rabid monkeys and populated by a bunch of psychos but such ridiculous, irresistible fun!

FAVORITE SCENE

Tantai Jin confronting Li Susu in jail, Till the End of the Moon - the energy, the intensity, the darkness the EVERYTHING.

BIGGEST CRUSH

Li Gong Quan, The Ingenuous One - yeah whatever, I realize he’s a minor character but I loved him so much! The whole having to bring down your benefactor who’s gone evil tho you are in love with his daughter should have been a whole other drama!

BEST SCENE STEALER CHARACTER

Chen Wende, Gone with the Rain - most of this drama is not that exciting but whenever his King of Trolls hot general shows up, I sit up and pay attention. I am 35 eps deep because of him.

NEEDS A SEQUEL

The Ingenuous One - I am dying to see what happens to royal investigator and supposedly dead princess, how our OTP will travel the world, the merchant and his lady, Ten Taels and his orphans and his girl and just everything. I loved these people so!

NEEDS A DIRECTOR’S CUT

Till the End of the Moon - it was clear they cut a BUNCH in the last third to fit the ridiculous new “40 eps or bust” rule and it would flow so much more smoothly if it was allowed to breathe.

NEEDS SCISSORS TAKEN TO IT

Romance of Twin Flower - it should have been shredded into nonexistence sorry not sorry.

TOO MANY SCISSORS TAKEN TO IT

Pledge of Allegiance - this drama was good but had gaping lacunae where too many scissors were taken to it for censorship reasons; I am surprised even what’s left was allowed to air tbh but still...

TROPE THAT NEEDS TO DIE

Shrill = cute - I see it every year, I hate it every year.

FAVORITE TROPE WE’VE SEEN A LOT OF

Hot Men Whump - come one, TTEOTM alone would fill the quota but we also had CFD, Call It Love, See You in my 19th life etc etc.

BIGGEST DISAPPOINTMENT

Back from the Brink - it’s based on a novel by an author whose other novels (Zhao Yao, Blue Whispers, Mulberry Song) I adore and the novelist was the screenwriter so I was so excited. But it was a juvenile, flat mess that de-powered the heroine and taught me that yeah, sometimes the writer should not adopt their work.

BIGGEST GOOD SURPRISE

Chang Feng Du - I loved the novel but the trailers were a fluffy bland disaster and I checked it out with zero expectations. However, this is a glorious adaptation, a lesson in how to transport a massive novel on screen into slim 40 eps and to account for changes in medium and stricter censorship restrictions for dramas versus books while keeping the essential vibe of the original.

BEST NON-2023 DRAMA I’VE WATCHED IN 2023

The Imperial Doctress (China) - the pining the pining by the Hot Emperor! This is like all my web novel dreams come true!

MOST ANTICIPATED

A Journey to Love/Prisoner of Beauty/My Journey to You/Kunning Palace - maybe one of them will air before the world ends.

#cdrama #kdrama #2023 drama list