#and it's just so frustrating to see this happen when I loved her so

[pboogerswbb]

TOO LOST IN YOU - part IV

Paige Bueckers x bartender!oc

playlist, part I, part II, part III

Warnings: smut and i mean FILTHY OK, toxic!paige, kinda cheating, language, etc.

Wordcount: 7.4k (sorry but there's smut ok)

A/N: TY for being so patient with me, i've been feeling sick but slowly getting better and finally got this done. finally some fluff for y'all. also please leave feedback/live reactions I LOVE THAT SHIT! ok enjoy guys mwah <3

-

“You’re joking, right Paige?” A frustrated voice comes through the speaker as I lean back on the couch, spreading my legs to find a more comfortable position. The game of fortnite me, Aubrey and Ice had been planning on for like a week was turned down, not wanting the phone’s mic picking up the sounds.

“‘M afraid not,” I mumble into the phone, biting my lower lip in concentration. I was so close to getting a kill if I could just finally hang up, but here I still was, fifteen minutes of going back and forth on some topic that didn’t need all this drama with a girl whose last name I’d forgotten.

“But it’s my birthday,” Clara whines into my ear. Watching my character get killed, I groan and tilt my head back, throwing the controller onto my grey sweats.

“I know, baby. Look we can do a lil something next week, lemme make it up to you,” I say into the phone, needing to get this girl to get off my ass. “I promise.” I didn’t mean that though, it was just empty words.

Truth was I just needed some time, after what happened the other night with Valerie I had felt my thoughts chipping away at me. The things running through my head had made sleeping impossible and practice even worse. The lack of control I felt when she was around me was terrifying. I needed a night just with my girls, badly.

I felt tense, distracted.

“Clara, whatchu want me to do? it's an emergency.”

To get away from Clara’s plans for the night Aubrey and Ice had helped me to come up with an elaborate lie about me “pulling a muscle in my wrist and it needed resting”. I hadn’t found it as believable but for Clara it worked.

The girl’s soft sigh comes through the phone. “Fine, ok. But you gotta make it up to me.”

“I will I will,” I mumble, unaware of what I’m really saying, stuffing my mouth with a fistful of popcorn from a bowl on the couch. Sitting cross legged on the floor, Ice lets out a loud laugh, quickly covering her mouth as I give her a scolding look, pointing to the phone. Thankfully Clara doesn’t hear a thing.

As the new game begins I quickly grab the controller from my grey sweats, I needed to wrap up this call quick.

“I wish you’d let me come take ca-”

“Gotta go Clara, happy birthday,” I yell hurriedly into the phone before Clara could even finish, hanging up the phone and throwing it onto the couch which makes Aubrey and Ice snicker.

-

“Bro you suck at this game!” I yell at Aubrey who looks at me offended.

“Nah, that wasn’t my fault!! It was Ice!!” she scoffs.

The ringing of my phone interrupts the conversation. Before I can pick it up, or even complain about Clara getting clingy, the sound stops. Not to sound too cocky or like a piece of shit but if it was one of the girls on my roster, that ringing wouldn’t have stopped for a minute. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love the power I had over some of these chicks, how they stayed up till 4am just to see if I called them up. They didn’t need to let me know it’s what they did, I knew all too well.

I grab my phone and quickly unlock it. With wide eyes and heart fluttering, I dial back.

“Paige I thought we were gonna have a girls’ night,” Aubrey groans but my finger comes up to shush her when I hear a soft voice come through the phone.

“Hey?” 

“Valerie?” I ask, I can barely hear her from the loud traffic nearly burying the sound of her voice.

“Wh- why are you callin’ me?” she asks, her words are slurred enough to let me know she’s drunk. Even so, hearing her sweet voice might as well have been a choir of angels singing. 

“You called me, mama,” I chuckle softly, walking away from the girls to hear better.

There’s a moment of silence between us as I slide into my own dorm room, closing the door behind me, leaning against it. 

“Oh… uh I was trying to call Paige,” she murmurs and loudly gasps. I can hear her slapping her own mouth and a cocky smirk grows on my face. “JAY, JAY I WAS. I was trying to call Jay.”

The bite on my lower lip stuffles the laugh I let out. Honestly, it made me feel a little smug knowing she said my name instead of hers. I wonder if I was really on her mind that much. It had been quite a long time since I had wondered anything like that.

“Ohh right… Justine,” I joke, the name making me giggle each time. This time, Valerie giggles too. 

“Don’t make fun P.”

“Alright alright,” I chuckle walking over to my bed and sitting down on it, pulling down my sweats a little so my boxers peak out. Faint screaming in the background of the call reminds me of why Val called in the first place - she’s drunk. “Woah, where you at Val?”

A deep sigh comes through the phone. “I dunno where my friends went, they were my rideee,” she whines, the sound of the cars making it hard to hear her. I lean forward resting my elbow on the knees.

“Did you call ‘em?” I ask, concerned over how drunk she was. How could her friends just dip? I’m gonna need to have a word with them.

“I’m nodding,” she slurs out and groans frustratedly. “Such a long way to walk,” Valerie whines again.

I’m already reaching for my keys when the words come out of my mouth. “Drop your location Val.”

She groans. “I’m walking by the highway.”

“You’re WHAT?” I yell into the phone, throwing on a puffer vest over my grey sweatshirt, struggling to get my shoes on. This girl was gonna get herself killed I swear.

“Relaaxxx.”

“Sit down and drop your location, I’m comin to get you ma.”

“Paige you’re so dr-”

“Sit your ass down. I’m so forreal now Valerie.” I command, without even waving a careless bye to the girls as I rush out, the plans for a girl’s night quickly forgotten. After a whine and a sigh from the drunk girl on the line I hear her set herself onto the ground.

“Fine,” her voice murmurs and I sigh in relief.

All of the fury I felt at her for being so careless goes away when I see her, in boots and a leather jacket thrown carelessly over her skimpy dress, sitting on the ground playing with the ends of her golden brown hair. I pull the car over, quickly rushing to her. How could her friends leave her in a state like that? From now on I should watch over her all the time, just to make sure she doesn’t get in trouble.

Nevermind her friends, how could Jay let this happen? If Valerie was my girl she would not be alone like this, yet alone going out without me at all. She needs someone who takes care of her, who truly cherishes every single thing about her. 

“Paigeyyy,” she smiles as I reach down and pick her up, her hair was a mess and eyes bloodshot and tired. There’s a strong smell of alcohol as Valerie wraps her arms around me, but I don’t mind. I wanted to be mad at her for being so irresponsible, for making me come get her. But I couldn’t be.

I grin as I help steady her. Anyone could notice she’s gleaming looking up at me. Usually that would make my chest tighten, make me feel sick and claustrophobic. Now, for some reason, I felt like gleaming too.

“C’mon silly girl, before you get in more trouble,” I murmur, opening the door and making sure she gets in the car, helping her with the seatbelt.

“I got it Paige,” she laughs as I reach over her lap, grabbing the belt but I slap her hand away gently, biting the inside of my cheek to stifle the way I wanted to smile, the butterflies growing inside me.

“Lemme do it ma,” I tell her hoarsely. She’s grinning at me stupidly as I buckle her in, my fingers running along her neck to fix the belt. When our eyes meet just for a moment, it takes every bit of my self discipline not to kiss her, the way her tongue slides over her lips enticingly.

The drive back is quiet, soft R&B the only sound filling the car. I hum along to the songs, tapping the steering wheel to the beat. Valerie watches as she rests her head against the seat. An involuntary smirk takes over my face, my eyes flicking from her to the road to my speed. I was driving much more carefully than usual, I had something precious to take home.

“You admirin’ the view?” I tease earning a lighthearted scoff from Valerie.

“No I’m… thinking,” she explains slowly, moving her eyes to the road too. Suddenly she wasn’t so giggly, but seemed to be sobering up.

“I got some water in the back if you need,” I tell her, already reaching for it, other hand on the wheel as I lean back on the driver’s seat.

She reaches for it with me, our fingertips brushing against each other as I hand it over. “Thanks,” she murmurs and takes a few big gulps.

Valerie’s shoulders slump as she takes a deep sigh, I know her well enough that something was clearly on her mind. 

“I lied P,” she says, her voice small. For a moment a wave of confusion washes over me, and I look at her expectantly. My first assumption is she’s talking about what happened between us in the bathroom, about how she hadn’t told Jay about it.

“‘S okay Justine don’t have to know,” I quickly console but Valerie is shaking her head.

“No I meant… Fuck, I mean I did mean to call you,” she let’s out, frustrated. “It wasn’t an accident.”

I swallow, feeling a heat rise to my cheeks. Was I… blushing? I must be more whipped than I realised.

“Oh yeah?” I ask, my tone a little too needy for my liking - I didn’t want her to think, no, to know I cared. That it mattered to me. Valerie could never know how I felt. I would just end up fucking everything up, at least now I had basketball. That’s enough.

“I just… I dunno I don’t wanna go to my dorm,” Valerie sighs, fidgeting with her fingers on her lap.

“Why’s that?”

“Jay’s waiting for me,” Valerie says with a slight shake in her voice.

Oh. 

At first I’d been more jealous than I’d like to admit, the idea of Valerie, my Valerie, with someone else made me sick. But running into them at that party I knew Justine could never do what I could. But most importantly, Valerie didn’t shine the way she did with me with Justine. I had an inkling there was nothing to be jealous of, and got my confirmation in the bathroom. But now, I only felt more validated. She didn’t even want to be around her. She drunk called me, not her.

“‘S that why you got so fucked up? Because of Jay?” I try to sound nonchalant, like I didn’t care. But I needed to know for sure. I needed to know I wasn’t delusional in thinking she couldn’t just move on from me, from us.

“Something like that,” she chuckles and shifts in the seat, sipping her water still. Without thinking it through, what it might mean, what it says about my feelings, the words slip out.

“I can take you to mine,” I suggest, knowing full well my biggest rule was not letting girls sleep over. I guess my rules had gone way out the window with Valerie.

She scoffs and shakes her head, my heart aching at her disapproval. “No P, it can’t happen anymore, I mean it this time.”

A scoff leaves my mouth as I pull up to the campus parking lot.

“I didn’t mean that dumbass, I mean just to sleep,” I groan, parking my jeep. “I’ll even sleep on the floor.”

Valerie looks at me wide eyed and dumbfounded. Guess I wasn’t coming off as nonchalant as I’d have liked. I felt a strange feeling grow inside me that I could only call nervousness. It had been a while since a girl had made me feel anything even close to it.

“Okay,” Val nods and a wave of relief takes over me - I didn’t want her to go yet. Being with her felt good.

“Okay,” I repeat watching her start getting out of the car. I do the same and we head towards my dorm. Without thinking about it much, my hand wraps around her waist, whether to hold her up or to touch her I’m not sure.

Jana and Allie are in the kitchen talking, their heads peeking out when we come in the door. Meeting their gazes I realise I have never introduced a girl to my teammates.

“Yo, uh, this is Valerie,” I say a little awkwardly, the new situation making me unsure of how to act. Allie and Jana share a look that I pray the drunk brunette clinging to my arm didn’t notice. Looking down I see she’s too busy struggling getting her shoes off. Without thinking about it, I kneel down and my fingers unbuckle the strappy heeled sandals she was wearing, my touch on her skin tender and careful.

“Hey girl,” Jana says intrigued, waving her hand at us. As Valerie nearly trips, she lets out a loud giggle, my hand gripping her thigh, steadying her.

“Whoa there,” I chuckle, standing up from the ground as the brunette slaps her face with her hand, bashfully.

“I’m sorry I make a much better first impression when I’m not drunk,” her sweet voice lets out and somewhere deep down I feel my heart flutter at the idea of her wanting to make a good impression on my friends. Jana and Allie both let out friendly laughs as I guide Valerie towards my room.

“She’s gonna sleep here tonight, that cool?” I ask as we pass my roomies, who are both nodding but clearly shocked at the prospect of me letting a girl sleep over.

I bring the brunette to my room by her hips, closing the door behind us as she throws herself face first onto my purple sheets. She looked good like that, in my room, on my bed, burying her nose into my blanket. For a fleeting moment I let myself dream of an alternate universe where she could be here waiting for me, all the time. Only for a moment though.

“C’mon ma let’s get you ready for bed,” I suggest softly, walking to the bed. She groans and flips onto her back, my eyes flickering to her upper thighs where her dress had hiked up. A sudden need to touch her comes over me, but I push it away. It wouldn’t be right like this.

“But your bed’s so comfyyy,” Valerie lets out a whine as she stretches, her pretty eyes fluttering shut. I can’t help the smile that forms on my face, my heart aching at how cute she looked like this - drunk and tired, mascara flaking underneath her eyes and a small pout on her lips.

Throwing her a navy blue Uconn shirt to sleep in is finally enough to get her to sit back up, her eyelids half closed as her hands start pulling her dress down.

With wide eyes I quickly turn my back to her, staring at the wall. As much as I wanted to, it didn't feel right to watch her change. Valerie only giggles, and I hear her stand up and shimmy out of her clothes, my mouth growing dry from the filthy thoughts in my head right now, the way she was completely bare behind me.

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before P,” she says teasingly and I almost groan, my mind jumping through memories of the way she looked in just a pair of panties, the curve of her ass, the way her tits sat pretty on her body, that long golden brown hair trailing down her back. Fuck. I felt myself getting wet. I rub my jaw frustratedly, trying to shake my dirty thoughts.

“Just get dressed Val,” I murmur, my voice hoarse with need. Finally, she obliges, throwing on the t-shirt I gave her. It’s not enough to stop my filthy thoughts, seeing her in my shirt and a pair of white lacy panties, thick thighs all on display, nipples hard and visible through the shirt. No. This wasn’t the time.

Valerie is about to crash back into the bed right when I grab her waist to keep her upright.

“Wanna sleep,” she whines as I guide her towards the bathroom.

“I know ma, in a little bit I promise,” I nearly whisper. It was the first time in my life I had promised anything to a girl and meant it.

Closing the bathroom door, I sit Valerie on the counter, her feet dangling off the edge which makes me smile. Grabbing a brand new toothbrush I try to hand it to Valerie, but her head is almost nodding, eyes completely shut now. This girl would be the death of me.

I wet the toothbrush, and gently holding her face, I brush her teeth. My face is only inches from hers as I watch her start to smile, realising what I was doing. For a moment her eyes flicker open and meet mine, and I feel something I have never felt before. I can’t name it, or quite place it, but the warmth in my chest, the blush on my cheeks and the way my breath hitched made itself known.

“Thank you,” Valerie murmurs, her mouth full of foam. She spits it into the sink, rinsing her mouth as I hold her hair, so incredibly softly, as to not hurt or disturb her.

“Let’s get this makeup off mama,” I say mostly to myself, wiping it all off with some micellar water, trying to be as gentle as I could. Her brown eyes roam my face, making me feel flustered.

“What about my skincare routine?” Valerie asks with a furrow of her brows and I chuckle, shaking my head, going over her face with a cotton pad.

“You don’t want me doin’ that, trust,” I murmur as I’m finally done. Watching her, the way her long dark lashes fluttered, her plump lips and soft skin made a shiver run down my spine. She must’ve been the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, even more so like this.

I suddenly notice that my hands are rubbing on the skin of her bare thighs as she watches up at me. I can’t help myself when I lean down and press my lips against her forehead, the tenderness of it making my eyes close. Valerie hums and wraps her arms around my neck, her legs doing the same as I pick her up like that, holding her up by her thighs. Her skin was soft and warm underneath my fingertips, sending sparks all over me. 

I carry her to my bed as she clings to me, gently laying her down on my bed and tucking the blanket over her, brushing a strand of hair off her face.

“I’mma get you some water and go sleep on the couch ok?” I murmur, my fingers brushing against her cheek. Her hands urgently grab my wrist and pull me closer.

“Don’t go,” she whispers and my heart nearly breaks at the way her voice sounds, pleading. 

“You sure Val?” I ask carefully.

“Please.”

It doesn’t take more than that to have me throwing off my clothes, leaving me in black boxers and a Nike sports bra and climbing into bed next to her. I carefully lay my head down onto the pillow, studying her features. The curve of her nose, the way her eyebrows arched, the hint of red on her cheeks from the alcohol. Her eyes flicker open, meeting mine as we stare at each other in the dim room. I could feel the heat of her breath on my face, and she inches her head closer, our noses brushing against each other. I nearly whimper at how good it felt, being this close to her.

My blue eyes travel to her lips, the way they glistened as her tongue brushed over them, the way her lower lip was that much more plump than the upper one. In the haze of the night, it’s like I’m outside of my body, unable to control myself when I lean in and kiss her. Immediately Valerie hums, and I think I’m in heaven when her mouth opens to move against mine.

We had kissed plenty of times. But it was never without fucking afterwards. This was completely new, kissing just because. I didn’t know kissing with no end goal could feel this good. I breathe heavy and loud through my nose as our lips move against each other, Valerie’s hand pulling me closer from the back of my neck. My hand on her waist slides underneath the t-shirt and I press my body flush against hers. I feel all of her, the bare skin of her legs wrapping into mine, her breasts against me. But it’s enough for me. Just to have her like this. 

“P?” Valerie whispers, as I nuzzle my nose against her, breathless from the kiss.

“Yeah?” I murmur softly, the overwhelming warmth in my chest feeling dizzying.

“I-” she hesitates. “I know you don’t… like when girls spend the night-”

I stop her with a kiss, more for my own sake than hers. It might drive me insane if I have to think about it for longer than ten seconds. The way I was bending all my own rules, the feelings deep inside me. I felt terrified. I didn’t wanna think about it right now.

“You needed me Val,” I whisper against her lips, knowing it wouldn’t be a solution but that explanation would do. It’s not like I was in love, but I did care about her to an extent I guess. And I would never let her be in danger. Ever. I helped because I wanted her safe and because deep down I was a good person. But it has nothing to do with love.

I wrap my arms around the girl next to me, pulling her face into the crook of my neck, her leg swinging over my waist and nuzzling into me. I gently run my hand up and down her back until I feel her go limp in my arms and just for a second I let myself inhale the scent of her, my nose buried into her hair. Maybe, just maybe, if I wasn’t Paige Bueckers, if I wasn’t me, this might have had something to do with love.

-

As the morning sun shines in through the window I feel myself stir awake, immediately met with a pounding in my head as my eyes flutter open. I feel a tight grip around my waist, holding me tight. For a moment I get the uneasy feeling that it’s Jay, but then I hear the light snore of Paige in my ear. Warmth spreads all over my body when I feel her pull me closer in her sleep, her nose pressed against the back of my neck.

A soft smile spreads on my face as I remember last night, Paige picking me up, driving me back, taking care of me, letting me stay over. My stomach fills with butterflies knowing this isn’t what Paige did for any girl. The only thing that mattered to her was ball and that’s it. Girls were just a distraction, something fun to do. But she didn’t care, right? Then why did it feel like she did, when she took care of me last night?

An incredible thirst from my hungover takes over, and I carefully peel Paige’s hand from my waist. Thinking I was sneaky enough to make my escape, I start to climb out of the bed when the strong arm quickly pulls me back down, pressing my back into her front once more.

“Where you going?” Paige’s voice is deep and hoarse from sleep, words muffled against my neck as she holds me down, nuzzling her face into my skin.

“Need some water,” I murmur trying to flatten my hair and push the hand away but Paige doesn’t fold. All she does is shake her head. 

“No,” she murmurs and holds me even tighter. It’s almost overwhelming, the way I was getting affection from her. For a moment I try and figure out why she would act like this, but then she kisses my shoulder through the navy shirt and I forget all about it.

“Paigeee,” I giggle but she only keeps shaking her head, her hands tightening around me.

“A lil longer,” she hums, her voice tickling against my ear.

“But I’m thirsty.”

“Fine.”

With a groan, Paige gives my cheek a kiss and climbs out of bed, putting on her basketball shorts and going out to fetch the water. I scooch up on the bed, quickly fixing my hair and trying to make myself look presentable when Paige walks in, carrying two bottles.

“There you go princess,” she grins. Her hair is matted and blue eyes tired as she gets back into bed next to me but I’m quite sure she’s never looked better. However, a sliver of fear in the back of my mind is nibbling away at me. I didn’t understand why she was acting this way, usually Paige’s motives were clear to me. Not this time.

Before I can spiral Paige leans towards me and presses a gentle kiss on my lips, her hand holding my cheek as she does. I kiss her back softly, my stomach twisting. Could she really be this good to me?

Paige pulls back and smiles. “Good morning Val,” she hums with another peck to my lips. I let myself smile back, deciding to worry about this later.

“Morning P,” I whisper and pull back to sip on my water, it soothing the pounding in my head. 

“Hungover?” the blonde chuckles but I shake my head, though maybe I did feel the shakes a little bit. 

Paige bites her lower lip not believing a word I said with a knowing smirk. She grabs her glasses, putting them on herself to see me better in the morning light. I can’t lie, she looks fucking amazing in her glasses and it makes it hard to ignore the ache between my legs when she looks like that - silver chain with a cross on her neck, sports bra, shorts and those fucking glasses.

I snuggle back underneath the blanket, pulling it all the way over my head, like that could somehow hide my filthy thoughts.

“Yo, where you going,” Paige laughs hoarsely, pulling the blanket away. I quickly bury my face in the pillow to hide.

“I don’t look good in the mornings,” I murmur, a blush rising to my cheeks from the way she was staring, let alone the dirty thoughts in my head.

Paige snorts and brushes my hair away from my face. “Oh so you care that much what I think huh?” her voice is smug and it makes me slap her arm, making her hiss.

She slides underneath the blanket too, her head resting next to my pillow. I can feel her watchful eyes roaming my face.

“Get outta here with that shit Val, you know you’re fucking gorgeous,” she murmurs, her words lighthearted but to me they mean more. My stomach filling with butterflies, I finally turn to face her, eyes meeting hers.

“You really think so?” I ask in a moment of vulnerability. I was a confident woman, someone who took care of herself, didn’t need anyone’s approval. But with Paige I found myself craving it. I hated it

With a roll of her eyes, Paige smirks and pulls me on top of her. “C’mere ma,” she murmurs and her hand drags me down for a kiss by the back of my head. I sigh into her lips, my body against hers and legs straddling her as Paige’s big hands explored my body, slipping underneath the t-shirt and brushing against my side. All the need accumulated since last night, no, since that night in the bathroom finally tips over.

I break the kiss to sit back up and pull off the t-shirt, Paige’s mouth agape as she looks up at me, wetting her lips as her eyes wander around my body, letting out a heavy breath as her gaze lands onto my breasts.

“Perfect girl,” she coos, bringing her hand to cup my breast. Goosebumps cover my skin as I lower myself back to kiss her jaw. I had completely forgotten about Jay at this point, all I saw was Paige.

My hands are quick to find her shorts, pulling them down with urgency while my lips suck on her neck. Usually she reminded me not to leave marks but this time all I hear from her is heavy breathing and quiet groans, bucking her hips up at me. I grin against her neck, testing the waters and sucking a little, enough to leave a little mark. Paige only hums and helps me by throwing her shorts onto the floor.

My fingertips sneak underneath her sports bra, my other hand pushing Paige’s rising hips down, seeking to find contact somewhere. 

“Take it off,” I whimper and watch her lust filled gaze never break eye contact as she pulls the bra off, leaving her only in the black boxers. I found my mouth salivating for her, wanting to bury myself between her legs. But I must take my time, I needed to. I needed to drag it out as long as I could.

I watch her hiss and throw her head back as my tongue swirls around her nipple, feeling it turn hard underneath my tongue. Biting on it gently, I grind my clothed core down on her thigh, my wetness growing unbearable. 

“Val, you’re killing me,” Paige nearly whines and I giggle, leaving red marks on her breasts, my hands gripping her thighs tight.

“Good,” is all I say as I continue my descent, placing sloppy kisses all over her abs, my mind wandering to the dirty thoughts of what they’d feel like flexing under my pussy, grinding my clit against them. I needed to keep that in mind for the future. But not now, I needed to taste her.

Paige groans frustratedly, and I feel her hands coming to my head to push me down. I slap her hands away, pinning them by her side, lifting my head to look at her. She could easily push my grip away and take me, but Paige was letting me have my fun, my fingers digging into her wrists.

“Baby, c’mon,” she whines, looking down at me with her teeth biting down on her lip, brows furrowed and hips bucking. 

“Keep those hands to yourself Bueckers,” I murmur, my lips kissing along the band of her boxers. I hear her groan, arching to my touch. I lift my gaze to her, my eyes wide. “Oh, you want these off?” I ask, acting dumb, slowly beginning to pull down the boxers.

“You’re such a bitch,” Paige says, trying to sound serious but a small whine comes through in her voice, making me grin. 

“I think you like it,” I tease, finally pulling the boxers off her. “I think it makes you wet,” I grin seeing the way she’s glistening for me as I spread her legs apart, making room for myself.

“Fuck it does ma,” Paige moans, watching me descend inbetween her legs, her hand finding my brown hair and pulling it off my face. I maintain eye contact, my own core leaking through my panties at this point as I kiss her inner thighs, feeling the way they tremble underneath my lips.

“That’s fucked up, you should go to therapy,” I grin, my mouth slowly inching closer to where she needed me most. “That’s gotta be some kinda- mmph,” suddenly Paige’s hands both pull me to her core, my mouth buried in her cunt as she lets out a guttural moan.

“Ohhhh shit Val that’s it,” she groans as I take the hint, my tongue swirling all around her folds, softly lapping against her clit just the way she likes. Her taste on my tongue feels like heaven and I feel my own eyes roll back from how good it felt to have her like this. My arms wrap around her thighs, pulling her impossibly closer as my lips suck on her clit, earning desperate whines from her.

“Mmmh, that’s it, just like that ma,” she moans and I hear her hiss as my tongue slips inside her, nose rubbing against her clit. Paige is making a mess of my face, and the sheets but neither of us bother to care at this point. She leans up against her elbows to see my ass in the mirrored closet opposite to her bed, letting out a groan as she sees the reflection of me bent over, eating her, a wet spot visible on my panties.

She leans over and I feel a loud smack on my ass as I continue to make a mess of her with my tongue, alternating between sucking her clit and licking sloppily. “Mmph,” I moan against her, it sending vibrations all over her body. That was enough for me to feel the muscles on her thighs start to tighten.

“Taste so good baby, fuck,” I whimper on her pussy, making Paige let out a guttural groan, her grip in my hair tightening further, guiding my mouth just right.

“Such a fucking good girl,” she hisses, watching me in the mirror, her eyes heavy as she found herself getting closer just from the way my tongue is lapping her up. “So fucking- ahh shit, sexy,” 

“Yeah you think I’m sexy?” I whimper against her dripping cunt, shaking my head with my tongue buried in her folds. Paige’s eyes flutter shut and she nods, jaw going slack.

“Perfect, so good for me,” she mumbles, barely able to hold herself together. “Gonna make me– shit, gonna make me cum.”

I keep lapping her, listening for her reactions and holding her still as her body started to squirm underneath me, building to her orgasm. “Baby I need you to cum,” I murmur, my jaw hurting but the sounds coming out of Paige’s mouth making it all worth it.

“Please, Paige,” I whine and that does it. I feel her gasp, her hand gripping my hair and burying my face into her. I could barely breathe but I don’t mind as my mouth works tirelessly to get her over the edge.

“Valerie, oh fuck,” she groans, her head tilting back and back arching as she reaches her orgasm, grinding herself against my face. It’s so hot I nearly come too. I guide her through it, licking her until her moans turn high pitched and her hands in my hair ease up.

Panting, she brushes her hair off her face as I wipe my face onto her thigh, watching her from between her legs.

“Goddamn baby,” she says hoarsely, trying to catch her breath. Giggling, I climb back up on top of her, Paige’s hand slapping my ass hard enough to make me let out a squeal. 

“Stop, you’ll leave a bruise,” I complain, but Paige grins arrogantly, pulling me into a sloppy kiss. I moan hard, feeling the dampness in my panties growing unbearable.

“That’s the point ma,” she chuckles against my lips, suddenly flipping me over and spreading my legs wide as she sits between them, biting her lips and gazing down at me. “Fuck,” she groans looking from my damp panties to my dark eyes. For a moment she looks almost a little flustered, trying to find the words.

“I uh, I got something new,” she says, her cheeks turning even redder. Curious, I lean up against the pillows behind me. “For us, I mean.” 

Wait, she knew I was seeing someone, and she was seeing someone too, but she got something just for us two? What game was she trying to play? It felt impossible to figure her out.

Before my mind begins to race further, Paige has dug out a blue vibrator wand and is kissing me more tenderly than before. She pulls away a little, clearly hesitating for a moment.

“I don’t want you using the same toy on me and your other bitches,” I tell her a little offended but Paige quickly shakes her head.

“No no no, Valerie ‘s not like that,” she urgently stops me, kissing me softly. “It’s just for us, for you. No one else.”

Her words sound soft, almost tender against my lips which only makes me grow wetter between my legs. I didn’t know what parts were an act and what were genuine. All I knew is I needed her badly.

The moment I nod, Paige’s hands slide underneath the band of my panties, sliding them down to my ankles tenderly, her kisses soft and sloppy against my lips, moving to my neck. The breathy whimper I let out makes Paige let out a heavy breath as her hands spread my legs wide apart, wetness dripping out of me already.

“So pretty,” she murmurs hoarsely, licking her lips as she grabs the vibrator, the quiet, steady buzzing signalling it was turned on. I watch her wide eyes as she brings it to my thighs.

“Paige please,” I whine out squirming as she kneels between my legs and places her knees on my thighs to hold them wide open and steady. She watches me writhe underneath her, nearly gasping for air from how bad she loves seeing me like this.

“Nuh-uh,” she shakes her head, the vibrator ghosting my cunt to find my opposite thigh, vibrating against it. “You know what to call me.”

Fuck. She had gotten like this once before, made me call her something that drove both her and me wild. She knew I would remember what it was.

“Fuck. Daddy, please,”

With that Paige presses the toy against my swollen, sensitive clit, immediately forcing wetness to drip out of me as I gasp and grab onto the sheets around us. She gasps with me, like she’s feeling it too as my legs immediately start to shake, wanting to close around the toy, but Paige’s legs are pinning me down. It was way too much, overstimulating in every sense.

“Too much P,” I cry out but Paige shakes her head, shushing me as she towers over me. 

“Just a lil more ma, you can take it,” she coos, leaning down to press kisses on my open mouth, turning the vibrator on a higher setting. “‘S gonna feel so good I promise.”

I feel my eyes grow teary as the toy vibrates against my soaking cunt ruthlessly, when suddenly all of the overstimulation turns into nothing but pleasure. My eyes roll back and I let out a loud moan.

“Daddy, shit,” I whine, my back arching and my nails digging into Paige’s back as she holds the toy steady on me, slowly starting to circle my clit with it making a quick mess of me.

“You’re so wet baby,” Paige gasps shocked as she glances down at the way her hand and the sheets were glistening. But I barely notice, already feeling that coil in my abdomen start to tighten. I’m gasping desperately now, hands grabbing anything they could, moaning loudly as Paige kissed my jaw and neck groaning against my skin.

“Daddy I’m gonna come-” I cry out, tears spilling from my eyes, Paige moving the vibrator against me sloppily, driving me to the edge.

“Fuck, already?” Paige asks, surprised but impressed, her nose pressing against mine. My legs tremble desperately as her free hand slides up to hold my jaw.

I nod, my eyes squeezing shut as I’m just about to roll over the edge. Suddenly Paige pulls the toy away from me, making my eyes snap open and leaving my core throbbing, no, aching for relief.

“What the fuck?” I ask but Paige just grins down at me. 

“You didn’t say please,” she smirks, making me roll my eyes.

“I don’t have to say please,”

“Yes the fuck you do.”

“No I don’t,”

“Fine if you don’t wanna come ma.” 

Frustrated, I groan. I simultaneously hated and loved when Paige made me beg for it. I hated giving her the satisfaction. But lying underneath her with my cunt throbbing and tears rolling down my cheeks I would’ve done anything to come for her.

“Please,” I say, my cheeks blushing as I look up into her blue eyes. She was enjoying this a little too much.

“Please what?” Paige teases, pushing the vibrator against my inner thigh again. It makes me moan softly, wanting to buck my hips closer, but it was useless.

“Please daddy,” I finally whine, earning a smile from Paige.

“Good girl.”

The vibrator is pushed against my clit again, now turned up all the way, forcing a moan to spill from my lips as I feel my orgasm quickly start to build once more.

“Open your mouth,” Paige commands and I don’t even think about it when I push my tongue out and feel her spit into my mouth before kissing my lips fiercely, moving the toy in a circular motion against my swollen clit.

“Daddy, fuck, please, please, please,” I plead, not even completely sure what for as my mind turns hazy and my body trembles uncontrollably.

“Such a good girl for daddy,” she praises with a hoarse voice, nose pressed tight against mine as she kisses my open mouth, bringing me to the edge.

“C’mon pretty girl come for me.”

I feel my body ride over the edge, all the muscles in my body tightening, back arching and a high pitched moan leaving my lips as the pleasure finally releases, waves of ecstasy rushing over me.

“Aww shit, look at that ma,” Paige mumbles, looking between our bodies watching the way my cunt was squirting all over her arm, legs and bed. My mind turns completely blank, eyes shut tight as my nails nearly draw blood from her back, the pleasure overwhelming me. 

I swear I black out for a moment, only returning to consciousness from how suddenly overstimulating and almost painful the toy felt against my clit.

“Stopp, stop stop stop,” I whine pushing Paige’s hand away as she chuckles but obliges. The quiet buzzing of the toy ends as it’s thrown onto the mattress and the blonde crashes on top of me, nuzzling her nose into my neck.

I take a moment to try and catch my breath before I realise what just happened, and what a mess I had made. Looking down at us and the wet spot we were lying in I sigh, feeling a little embarrassed.

“Fuck I’m sorry P,” I murmur but she pulls away, looking at me shocked.

“For?”

“For, well…” I mumble and point to the mess but she only smugly smiles and shakes her head.

“You’re kidding, ma that’s so sexy,” she arrogantly says.

My eyes widen in surprise. “Really?”

Paige licks her lips and nods. “Ye, really. Never made you squirt before.”

I blush a little as Paige presses a soft, tender kiss on my lips - almost loving.

“C’mon let’s go shower,” she murmurs.

I giggle a little, shaking my head. “I cannot stand yet.”

“Oh,” Paige laughs and looks down at my legs that are visibly still trembling.

“I’ll carry you then,” she says and easily scoops me up, walking us both towards the shower. 

I rest my head on her shoulder, watching the way her nose turns up at the end, the way her lower lip pouts and how her jawline sharpens as she tilts her head. Something about her had changed. Lately she had been more caring, kind, tender. I didn’t understand it. All I knew is the way my heart fluttered and my mind eased up around her, I was in big trouble with Paige Bueckers.

-

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[iichfilwypj]

loved | percy jackson

ღ percy jackson x daughter of ares! reader ღ warnings: hurt/comfort! (for the ones that are so so angry) ღ wc: 720 this is clearly about me guys

“Percy, you don’t understand!” 

Her shouts shattered the silence of the forest; the birds seemed to have fled the moment they arrived, and the forest nymphs hid within their trees, unwilling to get involved.

“You’re right!” His voice was edged with frustration and anger as he followed her, but instead of looking threatening, he looked almost pitiable. "I don’t!"

There was a raw, painful gleam in his eyes, one she chose to ignore -although it proved her point.

“Why can’t you talk to me? Tell me what is wrong, please.” He begged. “I love you.”

No. 

Not those words. 

They were precisely the ones she didn’t want to hear. 

The weight they pressed onto her chest was overwhelming, and she didn’t think she could bear it any longer. 

He was the sweetest and kindest boy in camp, effortlessly funny and charming with everyone –how could someone like him love someone like her?

“That’s the thing.” Her fists clenched tightly at her sides, crescent-shaped marks forming in her palms. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she stopped to turn toward him. “You can’t love me!” 

And he flinched. He fucking flinched at her.

But she didn’t care.

“I’m mean! I’m mean, and violent, and aggressive. I’m insecure, quiet, narcissistic. I have anger issues, stupids outbursts, I curse all the fucking the time! I’m not-” She took a deep breath, trying to quell the anger boiling inside her.

She was unlovable.

“Percy, I can’t make you happy. I don’t know how you expect this-” She gestured toward the space between them, which seemed to close with each tentative step he took. “-to work, I am not good for y-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” 

Now it was her turn to flinch as he stepped closer, his hands gripping her shoulders firmly. 

He was staring into her eyes as if he could see right through her, peeling back her defenses to uncover the truth she kept hidden –something she sensed he had been doing for far too long. 

“Don’t tell me what’s good for me or not.”

She could only stay silent.

What else could she do with that sight in front of her? A sight that wasn’t made for her, that felt so foreign for her.  

Those green eyes looked at her with a love she was sure she didn’t deserve, and those hands brushed against her skin as if they could see something good within her that she had buried.

“I know you, and I know how you feel. Like you don’t deserve the good things that happen to you, like you’re not good enough, like you’re a burden in everyone else’s life." One of his hands moved to cup her cheek. "Like you are a bad person.” 

She almost laughed; well, he was really laying bare her entire life with his words. 

“I don’t know who made you think all of that, but please, I’m begging you, don’t believe them.”

“That's the thing,” Percy leaned closer to her to show he was paying attention, but it was almost impossible to get any closer. “No one said anything; I just know it.”

As she closed her eyes, he observed her. Before him stood his favorite person in the world, unraveling before his eyes.

And he couldn’t stand to see it happen.

“You are the purest person in the whole world. From the first moment I saw you, I was wrapped around your finger. My mother is tired of hearing your name, my room is fed up with me sprawled out, holding your photo, and my mind is consumed by thoughts of you –there is no space for anything else. ” 

The words flowed from his lips as if they were the most natural thing in the world, and the effect they had on her was overwhelming.

She felt the boy’s hands on her face, gently wiping away the tears she didn't know were there –he knew how much she hated being seen while crying.

When she finally dared to open her eyes, something clicked inside her as she was met with the prettiest shade of green.

She had never felt this way in her life, so free, so safe.

And despite the fear swirling within her, she wanted to try –to try with him.

“You are not mean, you are not a bad person, you are not something that is wrong."

His hands were so, so soft on her cheeks that she could've died.

But she didn't; she felt more alive than ever.

"You live, you act and you feel so, so much. You don’t have to be perfect to be loved, you have to be you. That would be enough for me.” She smiled at him, momentarily at a loss for words.

In response, she leaned in closer, pressing a soft, salty kiss to his lips. 

And she felt like she deserved it, like it was meant to happen. And maybe it was.

She felt so, so loved.

hi!! this is how i feel daily lately and i am so scared of telling someone! but i hope you like it!

[dissapointu]

heyy!! can you do how arcane characters would react to a reader with bpd? I have it and its really hard to deal with

I personally don't have Bpd so I hope I was able to write for it- lmk if I got it completely wrong.

Jinx

Arguments with Jinx are a whole event. She’s already impulsive and emotional, so when you’re spiraling, it’s like pouring gas on a fire. She’ll yell, throw something (not at you, but still—chaotic), and storm off dramatically. But the second she sees you starting to crumble, her face softens, and she’s all, “Hey, hey, don’t cry, okay? I’m the crazy one, remember?”

She’ll make up for it with grand, ridiculous gestures—like painting a giant heart on the wall with “SORRY” inside it or showing up with an armful of random things she thinks you’ll like (a half-broken music box, a live rat, some Piltie trinket she swiped). Daily life with her is unpredictable. She’ll match your mood swings and throw in some of her own, but she’s always there to hold you through the aftermath, whispering, “It’s us against the world, baby.”

Vi

Vi has this big sister energy, so she tries to stay calm during arguments, but let’s be real—she’s not a saint. If you start pushing buttons, she’ll fire back, arms crossed, scowling like, “Oh, so this is my fault now?” But the second she sees that shift in your expression, that look like you’re about to spiral, she’ll stop mid-sentence and sigh.

“Come here,” she says, pulling you into a hug even if you’re still mad. “I didn’t mean it. You know I’m an idiot sometimes.”

She’s great at grounding you during bad days—holding your hand, distracting you with dumb stories about Powder or her childhood. Daily life with Vi is full of banter and teasing, but she’s also super protective, always making sure you know you’re safe with her.

Sevika

Arguments with Sevika are INTENSE. She’s not great with emotions, so when you’re on edge, she’s either trying to fix it logically (spoiler: it doesn’t work) or getting frustrated. “What do you want me to do? Tell me, and I’ll do it!” she’ll snap, her mechanical arm whirring in frustration.

But once she realizes she’s made it worse, she’ll sit beside you in silence, waiting for you to calm down. Then she’ll quietly say, “I don’t get it, but I’m trying. For you.”

Daily life with Sevika is steady—she likes routine, which can be comforting when you’re feeling unstable. She’ll bring you food when you’re too drained to eat and let you vent while she works. If you get clingy, she’s the type to roll her eyes but secretly loves it when you hold onto her like a lifeline.

Silco

Silco approaches everything with the cold, calculating precision of a chess player, including your BPD. During arguments, he’s quiet but firm, and sometimes his calm demeanor makes you feel worse, like he doesn’t care. But the moment he sees tears in your eyes, his voice softens.

“Enough,” he says gently, stepping closer. “I’m not leaving. Stop telling yourself that.”

He’ll sit with you until the storm passes, stroking your hair and murmuring reassurances in that low, gravelly voice of his. Daily life with Silco is structured—he thrives on stability and will gently encourage you to find your own, whether that’s a routine or a grounding technique. He’s not the best at expressing love, but his actions—bringing you tea, remembering the little things—say everything.

Vander

Arguments with Vander are rare, but when they happen, it breaks both of your hearts. He hates seeing you upset, especially when you’re directing all that anger at yourself. “Hey, don’t do that,” he says, his voice full of worry. “You’re not a bad person.”

He’ll pull you into a hug, even if you’re still yelling, and just hold you until you calm down. “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers. “We’ll figure it out.”

Daily life with Vander is comforting—he’s patient and steady, always making sure you feel loved. He’ll cook for you, listen to your rambles, and let you cry into his chest when it all feels like too much. He’s your rock, and you know he’ll never let you fall too far.

Ekko

Ekko’s a sweetheart, but arguments can get heated because he cares so much. “Why do you always think I’m gonna leave?” he’ll ask, frustration lacing his voice. But then he sees you breaking down and immediately softens.

“Hey, no, I didn’t mean it like that,” he says, pulling you close. “You’re stuck with me, okay? Forever.”

Daily life with Ekko is fun and supportive. He’ll crack jokes to make you laugh on bad days and bring you little gifts—flowers he found, gadgets he fixed—just to see you smile. He’s great at reminding you of your worth when you can’t see it yourself.

Jayce

Jayce doesn’t get BPD at first, but he’s trying, okay? Arguments can get messy because he’s such a fixer. “What do you mean you don’t want advice? I’m trying to help!” he’ll say, running his hands through his hair.

But after a while, he learns to just listen. He’ll apologize quickly, his voice soft and full of regret: “I didn’t mean to make it worse. I just want to be here for you.”

Daily life with Jayce is full of love and enthusiasm. He’s always hyping you up, reminding you how amazing you are. If you’re having a bad day, he’ll drop everything to take you out for a walk or snuggle up with you on the couch.

Viktor

Viktor is SO patient. Arguments don’t happen often because he’s great at de-escalating situations. “I understand,” he says softly when you’re upset, his voice calm and measured. “I know it feels like that right now, but it’s not true.”

He’s the king of quiet, steady love. Daily life with Viktor is peaceful—he lets you sit with him while he works, always making sure you’re comfortable. On bad days, he’ll bring you tea and remind you, “You’re not a burden. Never.”

Caitlyn

Caitlyn is a problem-solver, so arguments can get frustrating because she wants to fix everything, even when you just want her to listen. “I’m sorry,” she says eventually, taking your hands in hers. “I’ll try to do better. Just…tell me what you need.”

Daily life with Caitlyn is filled with small acts of love—she’ll leave you little notes, bring you flowers, and make sure you feel secure. She’s incredibly understanding, always willing to talk things through when you’re ready.

Mel Medarda

Mel is the definition of grace under pressure. During arguments, she stays calm, even when you’re spiraling. “I know you don’t mean that,” she says firmly, but her eyes are full of understanding.

She’s amazing at making you feel grounded—pulling you into her lap, stroking your hair, and whispering, “It’s okay. We’re okay.” Daily life with Mel is luxurious—she spoils you with gifts and quality time, always making sure you feel loved and valued.

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa is a bit of a bulldozer during arguments, but not out of malice—she’s just used to being in control. “You’re stronger than this,” she’ll say, her tone sharp. But the moment she sees your tears, she softens.

“I didn’t mean to push,” she says, placing a steady hand on your shoulder. “You don’t have to fight this alone.”

Daily life with Ambessa is protective—she’s always making sure you’re cared for, whether that’s bringing you food, making sure you rest, or just standing by your side like an unshakable force.

TL;DR: Everyone loves you in their own messy, flawed way because you’re worth every bit of the work. <3

[millieisawriter]

Workin' girl

arthur morgan x reader

summary: the one where arthur pulls a john — falling in love with a working girl. it was never supposed to happen, yet it did, and now arthur is left with two choices. either he, again, walks away from a woman that loves him, or tries to fight for her.

wc: 2k

all pics taken from pinterest

♡this wasn't requested, but if you wish to request something you're more than welcome♡

a/n: i see this happening in blackwater in case i decide to write a 2nd part, but when i started writing i imagined saint denis, didn't see any town/city names mentioned as i was proof-reading, lmk if you see something i missed <3

Life has never treated you kindly so eventually, as soon as you could leave your family home, you turned to the oldest profession in the world. Even if that kind of life was better, it still wasn't ideal, but it was the best you could do. Eventually, you started to like it because even with its issues and dark sides it wasn't that terrible. Some would even dare saying it was 'easy money', which you actually knew wasn't true.

Luckily for you, you ended up in one of the more expensive brothels. Maybe it was the 'splendor' of the place, the luxorious interior, that made you feel somewhat safe. Safer than you would feel in some cheap saloon where the patrons consisted of drifters with a questionable past.

You had your regular patrons, ones that you got along with well — one of the reasons why they were your regulars. These were the men that could stay a bit longer after the service itself was done without making it awkward. Ones that you could have a conversation with, ones that saw you as another human being, not just an item to relieve their frustration.

It was a normal evening, the building was neither empty nor full. You didn't have that much on your hands, you and a fellow working girl were entertaining a group of men. They sat by a table, a drink in one hand, a cigar in the other, and two of these men had a companion in their lap — you and your friend. Ending the evening in the bedroom wasn't certain, for now you were just trying to make them spend as much money as possible on the drinks.

Then, Arthur walked in. One of your regulars, one you were particularly fond of. The chemistry between the two of you was so strong sometimes you wanted to tell him he didn't have to pay.

His eyes immediately found you, and he would be lying if he said he didn't feel jealous seeing you in the man's lap. But you, as if on command, turned to look at Arthur and as you noticed your favorite patron, you excused yourself from the table.

"Mister Callahan," you beamed, approaching the man, "so good to see you again."

He tipped his hat to you, his lips curling into a soft smile. "Evenin' darlin', thought I'd stop by again. You been keepin' busy?"

The way he always called you darling, every time, made you feel so warm and bubbly. Of course, he wasn't the first man to do that, but when it came from him, it felt almost sincere.

"Busy enough," you replied, glancing over your shoulder at the table of men you just left, "but I'll always make time for you, mister."

"Well, reckon I'll take you up on that. How bout we find a quiet spot?"

"Your wish is my command." Giggling, you took Arthur by the hand to lead him upstairs where your room was. Even if he already knew the way well enough.

Your room was just like any other room in that brothel — furnished with the most luxorious-looking furniture, tastefully decorated with expensive ornaments, every little detail taken care of.

As the door to your room clicked shut behind you, the world outside seemed to fade miles away. In that moment right there it were just the two of us, bathed in the dim light by the fireplace's glow.

Arthur's hat found its usual place on the small table by the door and he turned to face you, "I can never stay away for too long." Shortly, his hands landed on your waist, resting on the corset of your dress.

"Then maybe you should visit more often..." You suggested, your own hands finding their way to the man's shoulders.

"I'm afraid it ain't a good idea, darlin'. I always look forward to seein' you. But sayin' goodbye..."

"I get what you mean," you chuckled, "so what's it gonna be today? Just the regular service, or you want something extra? It'll be on the house."

Every time Arthur visited you, it was both blissfull and painful for him. You were so good at what you were doing it felt like a religious experience, but the attachment he held for you left a hole in his heart each time he had to say goodbye.

He had always wished he could just ask you to leave this life, and join the gang, but which woman would agree for this? Your current life, your current job, as oppressing as it was, couldn't be worse than living on the run. In Arthur's eyes at least.

In the brothel you had your own room, a wardrobe with many dresses. You had a somehow stable income, it didn't seem as if money were any issue to you. All this, compared to what you could have in the camp, was much worse. And you didn't even know his real last name, there was no reason for you to leave this life you had for a criminal.

Why did Arthur even fall for a working girl? The exact same thing happened to John, which Arthur would often make fun of him for. Maybe life just decided to pull a joke on Arthur now. But he just couldn't control himself, from the first time he saw you, you were different. With other women it didn't take long to notice they're just playing a role, but you... from the first time you even smiled at Arthur, he was drawn to how genuine it looked. And now, you had become not just a pretty face to entertain him, but someone he felt at ease with.

This time, as many times before, Arthur didn't hurry to get dressed and leave the room, return back to camp after getting what he wanted. Instead, he stayed under the covers in your bed, smoking a cigarette as you kept going on about something that happened a few days ago.

He didn't mind, he could let you yap his ears off, your voice was such a calming sound. It was almost hard to believe you weren't just a hallucination he made up. How could such an ethereal being just lay there, next to him, head propped propped on your palm as you lay on your stomach, talking about whatever nonsense? How could this happen to a man like Arthur Morgan?

"...so then," you paused to take the cigarette from Arthur, take one puff and hand it right back, "you'd think a man like him would have some sense, right? Well, no, he was so damn thick in the head, she just told the guard to throw him out!"

Arthur chuckled, exhaling a stream of smoke. "Bet he didn't see that comin'. I'm glad I ain't made it onto your list of thick-headed fools yet."

"Yet!" You playfully reminded him. "You seem to have more sense than others, although I can't say I'm some weak little girl. I don't even need a guard, but the madam insists it's for safety."

A thought lingered in the back of Arthur's mind. It was weird, in a sense, to know there's a guard right outside your door whenever you had a man up there. Even right then.

"I don't doubt you could handle yourself, darlin'," Arthur smirked, taking one last drag from his cigarette, "but it don't hurt havin' someone lookin' out for you."

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips. "Guess you're right, mister."

Arthur stubbed out the ciragette into the ashtray that stood on the bedside table, knowing what it meant. His time was up, he extended the time of his visit as long as he could. Now that his usual cigarette was finished, it was the time for him to go.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed to stand up. You watched as he reached for his clothes that had been thrown onto the floor, and for the first time a single tear started to burn the corner of your eye.

With his jeans already on, and his shirt for now unbuttoned, he reached to the pocket, retrieving the usual payment. You wiped the tear away as it escaped your eye. It was always the same routine, but it didn't make it any easier to watch him go.

"Here it is." He said almost robotically, placing the money next to the ashtray, throwing in a little tip.

You looked at the money with sadness in your gaze, then your eyes shifted to look at the man. "You know, you shouldn't have to pay, because you don't make it feel like work."

There they were, the words Arthur was so afraid to hear. Him having a more romantic kind of attachment to you was one thing. However, knowing that you reciprocated the feeling, made it more difficult.

"Good," he nodded, "cause you don't make me feel like the bastard I am," as he buttoned up his shirt.

You sat up on the bed, pulling the sheets harder around you, since you were still naked. "Arthur..." You sighed, the rest of the sentence dying in your throat.

The fact that for the first time you had used his actual name instead of calling him mister as always, made it only more difficult.

"No, darlin', don't."

"You know you don't have to leave, right?"

Oh, he had to leave. If he overstayed his welcome too much, the guard at your door would become highly suspicious. And that would only cause issues for you.

"I have to, don't wanna make it harder." Arthur replied.

"Harder for who? I know a man's nature well enough, and I can tell there's something more in the— the way you fuck me, Arthur."

He thought maybe playing dumb would help him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that if you were to ask me to... to abandon this life for you... I would."

Arthur gulped. It was just what he wished for, but what he couldn't allow to happen. "I've got nothin' to give you. I live on the run, it ain't somethin' you wanna be a part of, trust me."

"You think I'd rather keep fucking strangers to survive, than travel the world with a man I lo—"

"You don't." Arthur interrupted you. "You don't know what you're talkin' bout." Love was a word of huge weight, there was no way it was what you felt for him.

You insisted. "I know what I feel, and I know what you feel, I see it in your eyes, I feel it when you're in my bed, Arthur. I wanna leave this life for you."

"It ain't gonna be no escape, though, just another kind of trap. You deserve better than fuckin' strangers to get by, but you also deserve better than runnin' and not knowin' which day will be your last."

"I don't want better!" At that point you didn't care if the guard outside will hear. "I want you, Arthur!"

"I want you too, darlin'," he admitted, his voice breaking slightly, "but... you're safer here. I can't sentence you to a life of an eternal wanderin'."

His words had a final tone, but as well as you could read his eyes, you could tell he regrets saying what he had just said. You could have had a roof over your head, and locks in your door, but it wasn't safety. It was survival.

You stepped closer, reaching out to grab Arthur's hand. You knew he didn't want to leave, you were sure he wants you just like you wanted him. "Arthur..."

His heart ached when he saw the way your beautiful eyes looked at him, but still he decided to kiss you. It only made it worse, making another cut in Arthur's already damaged heart.

"I gotta go." He stated, freeing his hand from yours.

"No." You refused as if you had any say in that matter. You could demand he takes you with him now, wherever he's headed, but what would it do?

"I can't make promises," he continued, putting his boots and jacket on, then his hat, "but I'll figure somethin' out."

You stayed silent, watching him leave the room, not knowing if he's going to keep his word. All you had now was the money, that you didn't even want from him, and the promise that could have been empty.

[lovelaetter]

cant stop thinking about stepmom!taeyeon who manipulates and eventually convinces her werewolf stepkid to use her body on the day the full moon comes out 🥺…

the moment it actually happens, she gets more than expected and it’s so painfully pleasurable but hey at least the dick hit the spots iykwim

MONSTERFUCKING, STEPCEST

i’m going to be so honest with you anon, i love this. i love this a lot and you know it because the day you sent this i posted that i wanted to kiss you and i still do but for some reason i can seem to write anything around this and it’s the reason this post is going to be so straightforward, only fuck*ng not background as much as i love, i really tried but couldn’t come up with anything i liked :( that being said..

she would so take a double look at your cock because jesus, why is it so big? it was already hard for her to take you the first time you fucked ever, human form and all, but this? sure she would feel for days, no matter how much time you spent between her thighs, always the dotting daughter, the caring girl, lapping at her sweet cunt to get her ready, using your now longer tongue to open your way inside her. thighs and waist burning with the little cuts from your claws, she doesn’t dare to look down and see the mess it must look, can’t do much but whimper and try to hold your arms as you move her around the you feel like, whispering in the sweet voice of hers “sweet girl, calm down, please” when you growl at her neck, frustrated that you can’t seem to fit inside her, your tip pushing against her entrance a little insistently. would slide her hands between your bodies, moaning just from feeling you under her touch, using her own fingers for a while, she’s so unbelievable wet, can take three so easily, but it’s not like her hand is that big.

there would be so much going on once you finally slide inside her— she thinks she’s being split in two, your teeth grazing her neck and a deadly grip on her waist and it’s too much but it’s nothing because it’s barely half of you and she needs more, kicks and screams but pushes back, wants you deep. keeps one hand over her belly the whole time to feel you hitting there, clearly growing more and more wet each time. when you start to simply push, knot forcing its way inside her already abused pussy, has lost count of how many time she has come by then but does again so hard, it’s like the first time, feeling herself get even more full with cum. and speaking of cum, there’s just so much of it… once you manage to slide out, she feels so dirty at how it just keeps flowing out of her, but at same time it’s so good. all the pain, worth it.

lays there with you later and wouldn’t complain if you decide to lap at her some more, in fact finding it endearing, maybe it’s a werewolf thing, a way to try and soothe her sore cunt. she loves you so much, you’re not hers but still, such a good daughter, always caring for her, even like this :( does she have any idea of how to explain to your dad what are all the cuts on her body? hell no, but she can think of something.

[b0ng05]

Jealous - Sam Carpenter

(Angst/Fluff)

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

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Prompt: Y/n gets jealous after she sees how Sam and Danny interact. On their way home, Y/n and Sam start to argue in the car.

Word Count: 1474

Also, Not Proofread 💅

Masterlist

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Sam’s foot slams down on the break and her head whips over to look at me. My eyes averting to the window, trying to avoid hers. “Did you seriously just say that?” Sam scoffs, looking at me expectantly. “Yes.” I give a curt nod, crossing my arms.

“You’re seriously starting a fight over this? Real mature.” Sam rolls her eyes, before turning her attention back to pulling out of the parking lot. “Are you kidding me Sam? I voiced my opinion on how I felt about Danny. If you can’t have an adult conversation about feelings, pull over.” I huff, biting my cheek to hold back.

“You’re getting jealous over our neighbor and I’m the bad guy?” Sam let’s out a humorless chuckle. “With the way you feed into his flirting,” I seethe, reaching to unbuckle my seatbelt but my wrist is caught by Sam before I could.

“I do not feed into his flirting! He doesn’t even flirt with me!” Sam rolls her eyes again, adjusting her hold on my wrist into holding my hand. “He does! And I don’t wanna sit here and keep arguing about it if you aren’t going to actually hear me.” My hand attempts to slip away from Sam’s but she keeps her hold tight.

Sam pulls the car over on the side of the road, putting it in park before turning her attention to me. Her hand reaches over and gently turns my chin to look at her. She takes a deep breath, collecting her words as her deep brown eyes stare into mine, calculating how to react in a productive way. She lets out a breath before speaking as softly and lovingly as possible.

“I’m sorry if you feel like I wasn’t listening to you. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I just could never see Danny in that way, and it was just starting to frustrate me that I haven’t made you feel secure enough to trust that.” Sam explains, softly caressing my cheek. “I love you, so much. I promise nothing is gonna happen between me and Danny. Nor has anything ever happened between us. And whatever you need me to do to help you feel secure in that, I’ll do it, no hesistation.” Sam whispers, kissing my cheek delicately. Her thumb softly rubbing along my cheekbone.

My bottom lip trembles a bit and I unbuckle my seatbelt so I can lean over and hug her easier. She wraps her arms around me the best she can with the middle console between us. My face tucked into the crook her neck. “I’m sorry for arguing, Sammy. I love you too.” My words muffled as I press my face into the soft cloth of her hoodie. She lets out a light chuckle, kissing the crown of my forehead, and softly rubbing circles on the small of my back.

“Are we okay?” She whispers. I nod, giving her neck a small kiss before pulling away. I reach up and caress her cheek. “I hate when we argue.” I mumble, leaning up to kiss her. She kisses back before she gently pushes me back into my seat, her arm reaching around me to grab my seatbelt and buckle me back in.

���I feel like I need to leash you. You’re a flight risk.” Sam lightheartedly teases, moving back into position so she can drive. “If you leash me, I’ll be even more tempted to run, just so you have to chase me.” I joke, poking her bicep.

“A new way for me to get my cardio in,” Sam plays along, a subtle grin poking the corner of her lips. Her eyes focusing on the road as she begins driving again. “Yeah? And what if I drop to the floor and refuse to move?” I hypothesize, a cheeky grin on my face.

“You know I have no problem with carrying you,” Sam jests, entertwining her free hand with mine. “Yeah and that definitely won’t look strange to a passersby,” I tease, lifting our hands so I can kiss the back of Sam’s.

“I wouldn’t be too concerned with them,” Sam says, a subtle smirk lifting her lips. “Oh yeah? And why’s that?” I ask, playing with the fingers of her free hand as she drives. “I’d be too busy thinking about your punishment for being a brat in public,” Sam smirks, her hand slipping from mine to caress my upper thigh, her cold rings causing a pleasurable shiver to run straight to my core.

“What kind of punishment?” I ask, biting my lower lip as the prurient actions of her hand run higher up my thigh. Her fingers tease up and under my skirt, her hand moving to cup my core over my panties, fingers running over the dampened fabric, rolling around my clit, leaving me with a desperate desire in my lower half.

“Thinking about you bent over my lap, and me, spanking your pretty little ass red.” Sam licks her lips, her dark eyes focused on the road as she drives. I squirm in my seat, her amorous words making my desire grow tenfold. The drive had begun to feel like hours despite only being minutes. Her words creating an image in my mind that I wanted desperately to recreate.

“You like that idea, huh, pretty girl?” Sam teases, her hand slipping under my panties, her finger swiping through my folds feeling the surplus of wetness. “Mhm~,’ I let out a soft moan at her actions, my hips bucking towards her hand but before I can even hope for more, her hand is crudely swiped away. My eyes dart over to her, watching as her finger slips between her lips, tongue swirling around her digit, licking it clean as she hums at the taste. Her eyes momentarily closing before glancing at me with a dark look that I knew well.

“God, I can’t wait to get you home, honey.” Sam���s hand moves back to grab my thigh and give it a light squeeze. “Drive faster,” I mumble, flustered by the older woman. My cheeks a shade of red and my thighs clenching together.

“You don’t get to make demands, baby,” Sam smirks, her fingers teasing up and down my thigh. The torturous teasing continued as Sam drove us back home. When she finally parked the car, I was quick to remove my seatbelt and get out of the car.

“Someone’s eager,” Sam teases, slapping my ass I walk passed her to go into the lobby of the apartment building. “You can’t tease me and expect me not to dart off,” I call to her, glancing back with a mischievous smirk. I giggle as I walk faster to the elevator. “Like I said, flight risk.” Sam calls back with a grin, easily catching up with longer strides. When she gets in the elevator with me, she presses the button for our floor, waiting until the doors closed to strike. When we start to descend up, Sam pins me against the cool metal of the wall, one hand on my hip, the other resting beside my head. “Maybe the leash could still be in play here,” Sam teases. I blush as I reach up to tug her collar down for a kiss. It starts out slow but quickly heats into something much more passionate. Sadly being interrupted by the ding of the elevator doors opening.

“Come on,” Sam whispers, grabbing my hand in hers to guide us down the hallway to our apartment. I kissed along her shoulder as she unlocked the front door, “You can’t wait, can you?” Sam teases, giving a light teasing pinch to my behind as I walk through the door. I give a small yelp at the pinch, playfully smacking her hand as I turn around. “Admit it, you can’t either.” I muse, watching as she locks the door back up before she turns to me.

“Oh, baby, I never said I could.” Sam smirks, coming closer and wrapping her arms around my waist. She taps my thighs, signally me to jump. I comply and Sam easily lifts me. My legs wrapping around her waist, arms around the back of her neck as her hands rest on my ass. I playfully raise an eyebrow at her hand placement. Sam catches the look and lets out a small huff of laughter, “Can’t blame me, that skirt does things to me.”

I playfully roll my eyes at her words, kiss her cheek sweetly. “Carry me to bed already,” I tease, “Then I can do other things to you in this skirt.” Sam laughs and gives my ass a small squeeze before starting to make carry me to our bedroom. The rest of the night filled with Sam proving me to that I had absolutely no reason to be jealous over some dude.

Authors Note-

Heyyy, I'm back. Its been a hot minute, I got a job so I been a little busy. But I do have a lot of stories I'm working on, I have seen my inbox and I will be getting to requests as soon as I can. 🫶🏼

[jenosonlywife23]

Heartstrings

Part 1

(Part 2)

The night Jeno announced his relationship felt like the world stopped spinning. His smile was wide, radiant even, as he laced his fingers with hers and said, “We’re dating!” The words echoed in the air, loud and unrelenting. The cheers and congratulations from the group only added to the sting.

Days earlier, in a quiet moment with Chenle, it had all come tumbling out—the feelings, the longing, the hopeless crush. Chenle had encouraged it, saying, “You should tell him. Who knows? He might feel the same.” It turned out he didn’t. Worse, he’d overheard.

But Jeno never said anything. Not a rejection, not an apology, not even a word of acknowledgment. It wasn’t until Chenle quietly explained what happened that everything made sense. Jeno had chosen silence. And now, he was happily in love—with someone else.

Swallowing the heartbreak, pretending it didn’t matter, became a daily ritual. Moving on wasn’t easy, but staying still felt impossible. That’s when someone new came along—a guy who seemed nice enough to distract from the ache. He was attentive, kind, everything you thought you needed to patch the cracks in your heart. At first.

Then his true colors started showing. Small comments that felt like jabs. Smiles that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Every interaction began to feel more like a transaction than a connection. Yet somehow, breaking away felt harder than staying.

Everyone noticed. The quiet concern in their glances, the subtle questions. Even Jeno seemed to watch more closely, his usual carefree demeanor replaced with something unreadable.

“Can I talk to you?” Jeno asked one night, long after the others had left. His tone was softer than usual, almost hesitant.

You turned, wary. “What’s this about?”

“That guy…” He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “He’s not good for you. You don’t seem happy.”

A bitter laugh slipped out. “And you’re the judge of what makes me happy?”

“I’m not trying to judge,” he said quickly, stepping closer. “But I care. I hate seeing you with someone who doesn’t treat you the way you deserve.”

“You don’t get to say that,” you shot back, your voice sharp. “Not after everything. You were happy to stay quiet when it mattered. Now, suddenly, you care?”

His expression shifted, a flicker of something close to guilt flashing in his eyes. “I should have said something then. I know that now.”

“Well, it’s too late for that, isn’t it?” Your voice wavered, betraying the fragile hold you had on your emotions. “You’re happy. You have her. So why are you here?”

Jeno didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he looked at you with a kind of intensity that made your heart ache. “Because I can’t stand watching you get hurt. Not like this.”

The words hung heavy in the air, unspoken emotions crackling like static between you. You opened your mouth to respond, but the sound of your phone vibrating broke the moment. It was a message from him, the guy who was supposed to be your escape. The preview on the screen showed just enough to send your stomach sinking.

Jeno saw it, too. His jaw clenched. “Is that him?”

You didn’t answer, your fingers trembling as you locked the phone. His gaze stayed fixed on you, a mixture of frustration and something else you couldn’t quite place.

“Don’t let him hurt you anymore,” Jeno said, his voice low. “Please.”

You turned away, gripping the phone tightly, unsure if the ache in your chest was from the message—or the way Jeno’s words lingered, filling the silence with questions you didn’t know how to answer.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

What if Elsa and Anna’s parents survived their trip to Ahtohallan and back?

The thing is, there were answers in Ahtohallan, but they weren't very actionable or useful for your average person.

Elsa gets something out of it because she dies, turns into snowflakes, and is resurrected as the fifth element. The movie tells me this is the same Elsa we know and love but, well, we'll never know.

For Elsa's parents--they might find out Elsa's the fifth element, but probably not as the guardian horsey isn't going to let them get that close. The other part about shafting the natives that Anna and Elsa found out as the story progressed, well, they probably already have some idea/I can't imagine either of them are naive enough to really believe it was all a terrible tragedy given what happened.

And ultimately, the problem Elsa was having wasn't something that could be solved by the Ahtohallan trip in and of itself. Elsa had to learn not to fear herself, which up until this point everything her parents had done to try and help her had only made things worse.

Which means no matter what they find out, we're right back where we started at Frozen 1. Anna and Elsa have a strained and distant relationship that Anna is extremely frustrated about, but their parents are young and Elsa is highly unlikely to be coronated anytime soon. As a result, the gates are still not open for coronation day and there's no impetus to change (in fact, there might be less, as Elsa's parents are going "fuuuuuuuuuuck" upon coming back and not having an answer to Elsa's problems).

Where things get... interesting... is down the line.

Now, the couple has two daughters. On the one hand, Elsa has been preparing to be queen her entire life, she has sacrificed so much to do so. She's very intelligent, pragmatic, and capable of being queen. But, her powers are out of control with no solution in sight. Sooner or later, she's going to slip, and they can't lock up the fucking country forever.

However, the second daughter, has not been trained for being queen at all and is... Anna. I'm sure her parents love her, they seem to from what we see of them, but Anna, especially as of Frozen 1, does not walk around with the comportment of a queen. Anna's a charming but clumsy goof who is also, at that point in time, swayed by romance and fantasy. Anna wants an adventure, a grand romance, that she might get as a princess who could be married off to a foreign kingdom.... but not as a crown princess/heir apparent.

Not to mention Anna has given 0 indications she wants to be queen, at all, and Elsa really really really does want to live up to expectations.

THOSE POWERS THOUGH.

I imagine there's much debate of "do we send Elsa up north to the wilderness where she can make as many snow things as she likes and cover it up somehow? or do we keep her here and hope for the best despite it just getting worse :/"

And Anna, I imagine, is losing her patience. She's getting close to marrying age, she can get out of this fucking kingdom. She wants to meet handsome princes and LEEEEAAAAAAAVEEEEEEE. This is bad because a) it means no backup for Elsa b) Anna you haven't even met these fucking princes.

But Anna also can't be shut up forever and she really should leave and get married, you know, eventually.

So one of a few things happen:

Under Immense Stress, Elsa Causes Eternal Winter

Sooner or later, probably when some public appearance is mandated with no wiggle room, Elsa fucks up as she did in canon. Maybe Anna is insisting she's going to run off with Hot Prince Hans who is so Hot and Of the Souther Isles, but the way things were going--the pressure was unbearable, and she was near her breaking point.

At this point, we pretty much get Frozen as Anna (probably the catalyst) goes after her sister to find out "what the fuck?!" and is also going after her sister to prove a point to her parents "WHO LIED?! THIS WHOLE TIME?!"

Hans may or may not be involved, but if he is, then he has a lot more royalty to go through this time so is probably not scheming to murder absolutely everyone and "I AM SUDDENLY KING!"

Not quite the same situation as when the king and queen were recently dead, the country in a panic over whether Elsa could handle it, then Elsa's suddenly a fucking witch and oooooof Anna's queen... and she just ran off to the mountains...

Anna of the Souther Isles

Anna gets set up with a match just as she wants and ships off to somewhere warm without any fear of being shut out. Problem is, Anna has no idea who these people are or what she's getting into and it will likely be a fucking mess. Except she's also married to a man she doesn't really know and there's now no easy way out.

"hooraaaaaay" - Anna

[ceofjohnlennon]

Hello! How are you?

I love your blog and I've been following you for a while now!

So... I have a question...

Do you know anything about John's relationship with a curvy blonde girl during his younger years? I've seen photos of him with her and some descriptions about them (apparently friends/or lovers?) Sadly I don't know her name but I hope you know who I'm talking about.

I would like to know more about it and if you happen to know anything it'll be appreciated!

Thank you :)

Hello! First of all: Thank you very much! I'm extremely grateful for this support. 🤍

Now let's see if I can help you. I believe you're talking about Bettina, the girl who worked at the Star-Club and was friends with the Beatles, especially John.

What we know for sure: She was close to them and there is even a home recording where John, while playing a song with the band, shouts her name from the stage. From what she says, John was the first love of her life but she never made it clear whether they were just friends or something more. They would go out together, go to the movies, she would buy him food and would always give him advice when he felt sad or frustrated. She says in a documentary that she would even help him count money because he didn't wear glasses and couldn't count properly - she calls him cute.

Now, there are many rumors: Some "authors" out there claimed that John got her pregnant, forced her to have an abortion and that's why she gained weight, but this was denied by Klaus Voormann and Tony Sheridan! They said that 1) Bettina never got pregnant and 2) She was always a fat woman (which is nothing wrong with that!). A friend of Bettina's claims that they were indeed a couple, but for John she was just another one while for her, it was almost a relationship. In any case, what we are SURE of is that she was important to John and she truly liked him, but that the distance, Beatlemania and everything that happened after Germany naturally separated them, only reuniting them once: June 1966 when the Beatles, now with Ringo, returned to Hamburg.*

My personal opinion is that they may have been together, but many people, both inside and outside the fandom, try to deny it because they think it's absurd for a Beatle to date a fat woman, as if it were shameful or bad. Bettina was a sweet, beautiful girl who deserved love just like anyone else, and John liked people for who they were, not for their appearance or ridiculous prejudices.

I hope I could help you! And if it's another blonde, let me know and I'll write another post lol. Thanks for asking me.

*John and Bettina in Hamburg, June of 1966.

[biibini]

Hi! I was wondering if you could try out headcanons for Modern Mizu, but Y/N would be a singer songwriter who like playing guitar and stuff lol, doesn't matter if Y/N would be famous or not, it's completely fine if it doesn't really fit your interests i had another writer try this out i just wanted to see your take on it because i love your writing style and how your portray Mizu <3

modern!mizu x singer!reader (request)

tags: reader in indie rock band, college!au, modern au, singer reader, banter banter banta, drinking, taigen being frat brother at sigma chi since that’s the modern equivalent of the shindo dojo, random bandmate names , mizu with pretty eyes, sweet modern mizu i just love her sm

a/n: thank u to those who voted! i was struggling how to write this since i’ve seen a lot of bassist!mizu. i’ve never been asked the reverse :0

singer!reader is a part of an indie rock band called across oceans at mizu’s college. the title is a loose term, but you make it work.

mizu never heard of her or her band until ringo and akemi brought mizu to another typical “rager” (coined by taigen). she knows what typically happens at these parties, the usual frat dj aka a glorified person on aux, people drunk dancing, someone playing fein or mo bamba that gets the house shaking. what mizu doesn’t expect is an actual band: drums, keyboard, bassist, and a very pretty girl on the mic.

singer!reader didn’t expect this gig to ever follow through. it was the first time a frat brother asked for you to play, especially from sigma chi, one of the biggest fraternity houses on campus. it was an odd request when one of your band members brought it up, but nonetheless, your band accepted. a gig is a gig and if was better than some random stage.

“So you’re telling me, our next gig, could probably potentially be Sigma Chi? The Sigma Chi?”, you question, appalled with the request.

Sigma Chi was a completely different demographic from your usual sets. You didn’t play any popular songs besides an Artic Monkey, Her’s or a TV Girl song here and there.

Your keyboardist shrugs, “Look, a guy in my class asked me if I was a part of Across Oceans and if we could play at their next party. Apparently, it was one of the brother’s girlfriend’s birthday that night, and they’re more into indie pop and rock so…”

“Who was the guy anyway?”, your drumist interrupted.

“Some guy named Tiger or Tyler Ren, I don’t know.”

You huffed in frustration.

A small band such as yours don’t really have the best turn outs at your college, unless a lot of people you know come and bring their best energy in support.

Why waste time for a bored audience?

“Point is, we have a gig and they’re paying well.”

“How well?”, you asked, debating whether or not to take the unusual gig.

It couldn’t be that high, right?

“Better than the Four Fangs Bar.”, he answered.

Your eyes widen as your guitarist whistle to the number. Never knew frats threw money around like that.

You leaned back in your chair, anticipating your bandmates’ reactions. You weren’t opposed, but… pay is pay, right?

At this time, you guys are typically practicing a new song or hashing out an upcoming setlist. Instead, silence fills the room, all band members in thought. You hear the quiet hum of the A/C mixes with the murmurs from students in the hallway, waiting for any objections.

“Fuck it, let’s do the gig.”, you announce.

singer!reader isn’t the official leader… but when the rest of the members can’t make a decision, they end up turning to you as the decision maker.

singer!reader , the main singer and songwriter of the band. it gets difficult balancing school and this, but you make it work with your schedule. besides, what’s better than the flow of your voice playing along to the strums of your guitar?

singer!reader ‘s band name originates from the fact that your bassist, Paul, and keyboardist, Janine, were international students: one from across the pacific, and the other across the atlantic. regardless of their origin, they were one of the best players your drumist, Owen, found.

the night of the gig, singer!reader and your bandmates meet the host, a frat brother named taigen. he’s nice and welcoming. was he a little egotistical? maybe. but was he just happy to help a brother? yeah, even if they didn’t know too many of your songs… or the genre itself…

however, they do request a song, his friend’s girlfriend’s favorite song: lover’s rock by tv girl. across oceans has basically perfected that song due to it being a popular request.

“Could you play my girlfriend’s favorite song?”, the frat brother asks.

You nod, “Sure, what song is it?”

“Lover’s Rock by TV Girl? Did I get the name right?”

You hear your band members sigh. The one song they know all too well.

“Did I get it wrong? Bro, I’m so sorry-”

“No no no, it’s fine.”, you interject, “It’s perfect! We have that song down.”

“For real bro?“, he says in awe.

“For. Real.”, your Janine answers, putting an open hand in front of the frat brother.

You watch the guy go in for a dap up, patting your Janine’s back a little too hard. He pulls back and waves goodbye.

“I’m so hyped, bro. Let’s go Across Oceans!”, he yells as he goes inside the house.

You hear your drumist, Owen, scoff, teasing your band member, “Let’s set up, bruh.”

“Hey! Without me, we wouldn’t be here!”, she objects.

“He’s right, sorry bro.”, you tease back at him.

“Hey!”

as the party starts, singer!reader plays some more popular indie songs along the realms of beebadobee, the marias, mac de marco, clairo, etc. it’s not so bad, considering that the students are actively cheering and whistling after every song.

your band plays along with the positive energy of the crowd, as some drunk people sing along, jump to the beat, even scream the lyrics with singer!reader. it’s such a blast being able to relay the same vibe with an interactive crowd, despite the amount of alcohol they’ve consumed.

singer!reader may have also consumed a cup or two of beer, kudos to taigen for keeping the band “hydrated”.

with every song that played, singer!reader watches the house’s backyard fill up, almost to the brim. watching a sea of partygoers vibe to the songs satisfied you, hell, it energized you to keep singing, despite the slight slur of your words.

as singer!reader watched the crowd, a few have stood out. there’s always the usual non-listener here and there, a couple or two pairs making out by the house walls, and the one that’s typically wannabe-cool and nonchalant.

now those type of people are the best to watch, slowly get their attention with eye-contact as you finding the right song to play, hoping to get them further interested.

and singer!reader did spot one of those in the crowd, whilst playing looking out for you again by joy again. you don’t remember recalling her name, yet she looked so familiar.

“It’s just the way you’re glancing at me…”, you sing into the mic, hoping to get another sight of the girl again.

“Something about you just makes me feel guilty for liking you…”

You finally spot her far in the back with her raven hair up in a bun, standing next to a guy, much bigger than her and completely jamming out to your band. On the other hand, she’s just blankly staring, carefully watching your performance, as her hands are in her navy jacket’s pockets.

“When you’re with him…”

You make eye-contact with the girl again, getting a chance to look at her features more. You watch as the little curl of the strand of her dark jet-black hair waving against the breeze.

“When you’re with him.”

The way her eyes glisten a deep ocean blue from absurd amount of fairy lights a frat house can put up keeps your attention on her, never wavering.

“This is a long song for a girl who will never know its about her,”

She smiles gently, close enough to notice but too far for you to call out. You feel the blood rush to your cheeks. You tell your mind to blame it on the alcohol.

“I know it’s pretty stupid, but I’m much too shy to tell her…

A soft grin stays on her face, now fully listening to your singing. Her blue eyes fixate on yours, never breaking the connection. You wouldn’t admit it on stage, but god it felt good getting their attention.

“She’s beaming with that smile, all the while…”

You smile back, nodding to the rhythm.

God, you could get lost in those eyes.

Thin, soft, yet filled with so much depth the more you stare into the ocean blue orbs.

“I’m all choked up on my own throat,”

You watch her head mimic yours, her little curl bopping along to the music.

“I guess there is noooo hope.”

singer!reader ‘s band takes a break, letting the member’s fight who wants control of the aux. you let them beef.

on the other hand, singer!reader needed to find that girl, stat. red solo cup in hand, you rush to where you last saw her but found no traces. that is, until, you spot her alone in the kitchen.

“You go to these often?”, you say, getting her attention.

She walks closer to you, leaning on the kitchen counter next to you, as people start to fill the kitchen. She shrugs, sipping on the bright blue liquid in her cup. You also sip on your cup, drinking up the mysterious alcohol.

“It’s not my usual scene. My friends kinda, uh, dragged me here.”, she said.

“Ah… I see.”, you say as you looked down into your cup, hiding your gaze from the girl.

You don’t know what was poured in your cup, but it needed to hit you in the head right now.

“But I really liked your set.”, she says, while your head peeps up.

“It’s not the usual stuff they play here, but I’m sure it was because of Ise.”

“That’s the name of the birthday girl?”

Her eyes widened, dryly laughing at your response,“You didn’t know??”

“She didn’t ask us! Her boyfriend’s friend asked us to come here. He was practically begging.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was. We thought he was pranking us or something. His name was like, Tiger Ren, or something like that.”

“Ok, you’ve got to be pranking me.”, she jokingly accuses you, chuckling at the accusation.

“I swear I’m not! I promise!”, you defend yourself, pulling your free hand up as if you got caught red handed.

The blue-eyed girl inches closer to you, smiling as she whispers in your ear, “I know Taigen and he’d rather kill himself than beg.”

Her breath tickles your ear, smiling along as well. You pull her closer, her arm next to yours, as if to share a forbidden secret.

“Well, I’m glad he didn’t jump.”

Both of you laugh together, side by side, shoulders against one another. You feel the warmth of the alcohol heat up your face, making you feel light and giggly. You lean on the counter to stay stable.

“I guess you learn something new everyday.”, you laugh. You tell her your name.

You watch her lean close to your ear again, her pink lips inches away from touching your flushed cheek.

“I guess you really do. My name is Mi-”

You hear your name get called out from the backyard.

“It’s birthday song time!”, Owen called out.

Shit.

“I’ll be out there in a sec!”

“I gotta get back up there but I’ll see you around, Miiii?”

“Mizu.”

“See you, Mizu!”

You push yourself out of the crowded kitchen yelling, “Who’s ready to sing for the birthday girl?”

The whole room cheers in unison, pushing themselves outside with you.

singing happy birthday to a half drunk sorority girl and an even drunker pack of sorority sisters and brothers was a sight to see. after playing another set, your band packs up for the night.

singer!reader never got anything besides a name: mizu. after ise’s birthday bash, your band got very popular with the frats and other clubs that filled your schedule with gigs and performances. excited, you took them all.

with every college gig you played at, you always noticed the same blue-eyed girl at the back, the little curl in her bangs bouncing to rhythm. with every break, you would find the chance to talk to her again.

with every break, singer!reader relished in the small talks you would have with mizu about school, life, new songs, anything. every conversation was physically close, every touch fluttering your heart, the red in your cheeks flaring up.

singer!reader blamed it on the alcohol and hope mizu doesn’t see through it.

singer!reader and mizu swap spotifys, sharing music and playlists mixed with each of your own tastes.

Mizu 🎧

do you have spotify?

yeah

wsp?

[Invite Link to Create a Blend]

you should click on this hehe

istg if u dox me…

aw u dont trust me ?? :(

no.

boooooo 👎🍅

besides being a supporter of your sets, singer!reader finds herself asking mizu and some friends to come over and watch across oceans rehearse so everything sounds clear and perfect, especially before a big party. it usually goes well for the most part, except the instances when you get a glimpse of mizu and forget a lyric or two. its typically paired with banter between your band mates.

You hear your keyboardist, Janine, groan your name.

“Girl, the lyrics!”

“Sorry!”

The blood rushes to your cheeks, showing off your embarrassment.

“It’s okay, I think I was off-key anyways.”, your bassist, Paul, claims. He starts fine-tuning his bass, focusing on the instrument. As for you, you look back on the lyrics online, hoping to ingrain the words before this week’s gig.

Fortunately, it was another high paying gig from a sorority. Unfortunately, they were requesting Chappell Roan and there were barely any sheet music for her songs, let alone her song Casual.

“Okay, gameplan. We finish the main chorus done and we can finish the final bridge and outro tomorrow.”, you claim.

Your band agrees.

“Just remember, it’s two ‘Is it casual now?’ and then its the duplicates.”, your keyboardist stresses.

“Yes Janine, we know you love her.”, Owen sighs.

“No hard feelings to Y/N, I just wanted to set the record straight.”, Janine protests, reading her hands on the keys.

You hear Paul scoff, “As if you are.”

Janine’s jaw drops, shocked as if Paul just dropped a bomb on her face.

“Says you, you fruit!”

“What did you just call me??”

“You heard me!”

“Hey!”, you interject, clapping your hands together, “You guys can have a fruit-off after this. Let’s just get this done please.”

singer!reader is thankful that despite their attitudes, they get along with banter and forgiveness at the end of the day.

singer!reader deep down hopes that they don’t kill each other about being called a fruit (fingers crossed).

singer!reader also finds herself inviting mizu over a few times for a listening party aka you writing and practicing songs while she actively listens, maybe critiques, or simply be there doing homework together

singer!reader is surprised to find more people asking if the band played x song or y song. although most requests come from popular songs, you implement a few into the rehearsal mix.

after finishing a set at one of taigen’s so-called ragers, your band packs up for the dj coming soon. although this meant the end of your set, taigen agreed that the band should stay afterwards and enjoy the party while it lasted. it was before midterms after all.

once your band finished packing up the equipment into your keyboardist’s van, the four of you were left with a decision: stay at the party or leave. as nice as it is for taigen to invite you guys back to play, it was getting late and your drumist had a shift tomorrow morning.

until you hear janine call your name from the van.

“Are you heading home too?”, you pout, cup in hand.

“Yeah, I figured your girlfriend wants to talk with you again.”, Janine giggles.

“For the last time, Mizu’s just a friend!”

“And I’m totally not delusional!”, Paul teases, mocking your voice.

You laugh nervously, checking your surroundings for any sight of her. After the set, you know she tends to disappear into the kitchen or a hallway upstairs.

“Anyways, lover girl, we’ll let you shoot your shot.”

“I-“

“Ah ah ah,” Janine waves a finger in front of you as she starts the car, “Don’t miss!”

singer!reader tries to find her at her usual spot in the kitchen. you end up finding her on a balcony upstairs, overseeing the houses next to the frats. only a dim porch light reveals mizu’s shadow, quietly sipping a drink in her cup.

“There you are.”, you greet, sliding open the balcony door.

“Heyy.”, Mizu greets back, softly smiling at you.

“You weren’t in the kitchen like you always are.”

“Just felt like getting fresh air. Some peace and quiet from the noise.”

You chuckle as you hear the rhythm and bass of the DJ set vibrate the house.

“I don’t blame you.”

You look out, swishing your cup with whatever mixer Ise poured in your cup. You’re unsure but you take a sip, hoping it’s strong enough to keep you sane around Mizu.

After many gigs, you’ve seen her and met with her, talking in between sets, and after sets before you leave. Although it’s short and sweet, you can’t help wanting to know more. Unintentionally, the thought of her consumes your mind: the way her voice gets raspy after a drink or two as you talk about your favorite artists, her touch behind your back when you’re trying to get out of a packed room, the way her eyes seem to shine sapphire every time you locked eyes with her while you’re playing.

Unfortunately, your band members weren’t complete idiots and tease you at every college gig. They come from a good place, but your mind can’t stop thinking about her voice when you’re trying to focus on writing a new song.

You try to drown your busy mind with another sip. The liquid goes down smooth with a peach aftertaste.

“Oh god, did they put soju in this?”, you cry out.

“Maybe. You know how Ise likes her drinks.”

You stare at your cup, the liquid filling to the halfway point. Mizu puts down hers on the table, holding onto something that crumples from her grasp.

Mizu steps closer to you and hands you a small bouquet of tulips, a delicate mix of pinks, whites, and reds tied together with newspaper. Its barely visible but Mizu’s hand was shaking from the nerves. And maybe a little wobbly from the alcohol.

“For your successful set and for surviving midterms as well.”

In shock, you accept the gesture, letting her place the bouquet in your hands. It smells so sweet, a contrasting smell from the puffs of nicotine, sweet, and strong alcohol downstairs. It was the first time you’ve received flowers on the behalf of your band’s talent and success, let alone, surviving school.

“Mizu, this is so sweet. You didn’t have to.”, you say, looking down at the flowers. You feel the blood rush to your cheeks, tinting them red. Thankfully, it’s barely visible from the dim lighting.

“I wanted to. Because… well…”

“Because?”

“I… um…”, she stammered,

You hear the rhythm of her breath quicken. You look up to find her inches away, biting the inner corner of her lip, her eyes finding the right words.

You pull a hand out to Mizu’s arm, comforting her.

“It’s okay, Mizu, thank you for—”

“Sorry, I just… can’t stop watching you when you perform.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”, you slip out,

Both of you look at each other with a stunned look, dumbfounded at both of your tipsy confessions.

Mizu pulls you close, moving the bouquet out of the way, as her lips are merely inches away from yours. You were fine with the closeness when it came to whispering, but this was different.

“May I?”

You nod, as the gap closed between the two of you. The taste of peach hits your lips, as you feel the softness of her lips push against yours.

Mizu pulls back, her breath staggering against yours. You place your cup to the side before reaching for her cheek, pulling her even closer to you, sealing the gap with a kiss once again.

You thank Ise for whatever shot(s) of liquid courage she put in both of your drinks.

[whosscruffylooking]

steve harrington x fem! reader Open Arms Masterlist word count: 6.3k ~1984~

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Later that evening, Steve finds himself pacing the length of his living room, running a hand through his hair for what feels like the hundredth time. The silence of the house is unbearable, filled with his swirling thoughts and unanswered questions. He doesn’t know what to do, and the frustration of it all is starting to feel like too much.

Finally, he grabs his keys and heads out the door. He doesn’t have a plan, but somehow, his feet lead him to Dustin’s house. If there’s anyone who might have an answer—or at least say something that could make sense of this mess—it’s the kid who seems to know way too much about life for his age.

When Dustin opens the door, he’s holding a partially dismantled walkie-talkie and wearing a look of mild confusion. “Steve? What are you doing here? And…why didn’t you drive your car?”

“I need to talk to you,” Steve blurts out, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. He sinks into the nearest chair, his head dropping into his hands. “It’s about Y/N.”

Dustin’s eyes widen, and he immediately shuts the door, tossing the walkie onto a nearby table. “Oh man, this is gonna be good. Spill.”

Steve hesitates, unsure how to even start. “I don’t know what to do. Last night, things… things got intense, and I thought we had this moment, you know? Like, we finally said what we’ve been too scared to say for years. But now she’s pulling back, and I don’t know if I should—” He stops, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know if I should keep pushing or just… leave it alone.”

Dustin crosses his arms, tilting his head as he considers Steve’s words. “Okay, first of all, what exactly did you say? Because if you half-assed it, that’s on you.”

Steve groans, leaning back against the chair. “I didn’t half-ass it. I told her she’s my whole world. That I couldn’t survive if something happened to her. I meant every word.”

“Okay, cool. So you laid it all out there,” Dustin says, nodding approvingly. “And now she’s avoiding you?”

“Pretty much.”

Dustin shrugs. “She’s probably just freaking out. I mean, think about it, Steve. Last night was crazy. People don’t just process stuff like that overnight. Plus, she’s probably wondering if you meant it or if it was, like, adrenaline talking.”

“I did mean it,” Steve says quickly, his voice firm.

“I know that, and you know that, but does she?” Dustin points out, raising an eyebrow. “You’re gonna have to prove it.”

“How?”

Dustin smirks. “By being the guy she already knows you are. You’ve been in love with her for years, right? So don’t stop now. Show her you meant what you said. Don’t let her run away just because she’s scared.”

Steve leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he takes in Dustin’s words. “And what if I push too hard and just end up making it worse?”

“Steve,” Dustin says, his tone surprisingly serious. “The only way you’re gonna make it worse is if you give up. She’s worth it, right?”

Steve doesn’t hesitate. “Yeah. She’s worth it.”

“Then stop overthinking it and just… be there for her. Give her time, but don’t let her forget you meant every word.”

Steve nods slowly, Dustin’s advice sinking in. Maybe the kid’s right. Maybe it’s not about pushing or pulling back—it’s about being steady, being there, and letting her see that his feelings aren’t going anywhere.

“Don’t let her forget I meant every word,” Steve takes a mental note. “Thanks kid.”

“Anytime, big guy,” Dustin replies, grinning. “But, uh, maybe next time, bring snacks. We’ve got brainstorming to do and we’re doing it on an empty stomach.”

The kid pulls out a notebook and begins scribbling ideas into it. 

Steve leans back in Dustin’s chair, arms crossed as his mind drifts, until he blurts out, “I wrote her a note once.”

Dustin freezes mid-sentence. “A note?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Back in ninth grade. It was, like, this stupid thing where I wrote down all the stuff I… liked about her.”

Dustin’s pen drops onto the desk, and he swivels around in his chair to face Steve, his expression somewhere between shock and delight. “Hold up. You wrote an actual love note, and you’ve just been sitting on this information? What did it say?”

“I don’t remember,” Steve lies, avoiding Dustin’s eyes.

“Bull,” Dustin says, narrowing his gaze. “You remember every word, don’t you?”

Steve sighs, defeated. “Okay, fine. I remember some of it. But it doesn’t matter because I never gave it to her.”

“You still have it?” Dustin asks, leaning forward like he’s about to discover buried treasure.

“I think so,” Steve mutters. “It’s probably in some box in my closet or something.”

Dustin practically leaps out of his chair. “We’re going to your house. Right now.”

“No way,” Steve says, shaking his head.

“Steve,” Dustin says, crossing his arms and giving him a look that’s far too confident for a 13-year-old. “This note could be the key to unlocking her heart. You’re always telling me to take risks and go after what I want, so why don’t you take your own advice for once?”

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fine, but only if you agree to stop badgering me about it.”

Dustin smirks. “And?”

“And,” Steve adds, “I’ll help you prepare for the winter formal.”

“Sold!” Dustin says, already grabbing his coat.

They rummage through Steve’s closet for nearly half an hour, tossing aside old yearbooks, basketball trophies, and forgotten sneakers, until Dustin shouts, “Found it!”

He holds up a folded piece of paper, yellowed slightly with age, and waves it triumphantly.

Steve snatches it from him, his face already burning. “Give me that.”

“Absolutely not,” Dustin says, dodging out of reach. “This is a historical document. It belongs in a museum!”

“Dustin, I swear—”

“Relax,” Dustin says, finally unfolding the note. He scans the page, his smirk slowly fading as he reads. “Dude,” he says quietly, glancing up at Steve. “This is… actually kind of sweet. ‘The way you always sticks up for people, even when you’re intimidated.’”

Steve shrugs, avoiding Dustin’s gaze. “Yeah, well…”

“‘Or how you always get mad when I cheat at Monopoly,’” Dustin’s voice softens. “That’s… wow, man.”

Steve shifts uncomfortably. “Can we not make a big deal out of this?”

Dustin keeps reading. “‘The way you bite your lip when you’re thinking too hard.’”

“Okay, now you’re just embarrassing me,” Steve mutters, trying to grab the note again.

But then Dustin freezes, his eyes widening as he reads a particular line. A slow grin spreads across his face. “Oh my God.”

“What?” Steve asks, suddenly nervous.

“‘The dream I had about you in that red bathing suit….” his eyes gleaming with mischief. “What dream, Harrington?”

Steve’s face turns beet red. “Nope. Not happening.”

“Was it romantic? Or… did you have to wake up in the middle of the night to take a shower after?” Dustin teases, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Dustin, I swear, if you—”

“Does she know about this dream?!”

Steve grabs the note and crumples it in his fist. “Forget you ever read that.”

But Dustin is already cackling, doubling over with laughter. “Oh, this is too good. You had a secret ninth-grade fantasy about her, and now you’re still pining after her? Man, you’re pathetic!”

Steve groans, running a hand down his face. “Why do I even talk to you?”

“Because I’m your only hope,” Dustin says, still laughing as he throws an arm over Steve’s shoulder. “Now, let’s go use this note to win her over. Minus the dream part, obviously. Unless you want to make things really interesting.”

Steve sighs, shaking his head but unable to keep the small smile off his face. “I’m so going to regret this.”

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Steve grips the steering wheel a little tighter, his knuckles turning white as Dustin leans over from the passenger seat with that insufferable grin plastered on his face.

“You realize the more you avoid it, the worse it sounds, right? Like, was this dream so scandalous it could ruin your life?”

Steve groans, rolling his eyes as he pulls up to a stoplight. “No, it wasn’t scandalous. It was… Look, it’s none of your business.”

Dustin leans closer, his grin widening, “Was it one of those superhero moments where she saved you from drowning?” He pauses dramatically, tapping his chin. “Actually, no—let me guess. You were the one saving her…chest compressions, mouth to mouth.”

Steve nearly chokes on his own breath, his hand slamming against the wheel. “Dustin, I swear—”

“Oh my God,” Dustin cuts him off, gasping in mock realization. “Was it one of those dreams? Like, she’s there in slow motion, water dripping off her, and you’re there rubbing tanning oil all over her body?”

“Cut it out, Henderson!” Steve snaps, his ears burning.

Dustin smirks, leaning back in his seat. “Man, you’re so red right now. It must’ve been some dream.”

“You seriously need a hobby.”

“This is my hobby,” Dustin says proudly. “Now, tell me about the dream, or I’ll tell her there’s a dream.”

“You wouldn’t,” Steve says, eyes narrowing as the light turns green. He presses the gas a little harder than necessary.

“Oh, I absolutely would,” Dustin replies, grinning ear to ear. “She’d love to know how much you’ve been thinking about her—dream Steve and all.”

“Fine!” Steve shouts, throwing one hand in the air. “It wasn’t even that bad! It was just… we were at the pool at my house, and she was… laughing, okay? It wasn’t some weird thing. It was just her, and she was happy, and it stuck with me. End of story.”

Dustin blinks at him, unimpressed. “That’s it?”

“Yeah, that’s it,” Steve says firmly.

Dustin leans back, letting the silence hang for a moment. “You’re the lamest romantic I’ve ever met.”

Steve sighs in relief. “Thank you.”

“But I’m still going to tell her about it.”

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The next afternoon, you sit cross-legged on your bed, staring at your phone and chewing on your bottom lip. Inviting Nancy Wheeler over wasn’t exactly something you’d planned on doing in this lifetime. You’d always been friendly enough, sure, but hanging out one-on-one? Never happened. Still, if there’s anyone who might understand what you’re going through, it’s her.

When Nancy arrives, she hesitates in the doorway, tilting her head curiously. “Hey,” she says, giving you a small, cautious smile. “This is… unexpected.”

“I know,” you admit, stepping aside to let her in. “It’s weird, right? Me, asking you over. But I—well, I need some advice. About Steve.”

Her brows shoot up, and she gives a small laugh of surprise. “Steve?”

You nod quickly, leading her to your room. “Yeah, and before you say anything, I know it’s probably strange. I mean, he’s my best friend, so I should probably know how to handle this myself, but…” You flop onto the bed with a groan, running a hand through your hair. “I just—I feel like I need a different perspective. And you probably know him better than anyone else—aside from me, of course.”

Nancy sits at the edge of the bed, folding her hands in her lap as she listens. “Okay,” she says slowly, her tone thoughtful. “What’s going on?”

You exhale sharply, tugging at the hem of your sweater. “The other night, during all the chaos, Steve said some things. Big things. About… how he feels about me.”

Nancy blinks, her expression unreadable as she processes your words. “What kind of things?”

“Like… intense things. Like, ‘You’re my whole world,’ kind of things.” You let out a nervous laugh. “And now I don’t know what to do with it. What if it was just the adrenaline talking? What if he doesn’t really mean it?”

Nancy leans back slightly, tilting her head. “Why would you think he didn’t mean it?”

You shrug helplessly. “Because… it’s Steve. He’s been in love with you before. He’s dated other girls. What if I’m just… another phase? Or worse, what if this ruins everything between us?”

Nancy softens, a small smile forming on her lips. “Steve doesn’t really do phases. Sure, he’s dated other people, but he’s never looked at anyone the way he looks at you.”

You blink, her words catching you off guard. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that even when we were together, it was obvious how much you meant to him. He talks about you like you hung the stars, Y/N. And I know you’ve been there for him in ways I never could be.” Nancy pauses, then adds gently, “But this isn’t about me. It’s about you. What do you want to happen?”

You hesitate, your cheeks warming as memories of that night with Steve flash through your mind. You almost tell her—that one time, late at night, when things between you and Steve had finally boiled over. When you’d crossed a line that had been hovering between you for years. But instead of making things clearer, it had only complicated everything. And you’d been the one to say it: We should just stay friends.

You stop yourself before the words can escape and opt for something safer. “One time, we… broached the topic of maybe having feelings for each other. But I was the one who shut it down. I was scared of losing him, and I told him it’d be better if we stayed friends.”

Nancy nods slowly, her gaze thoughtful. “And do you still feel that way?”

Your throat tightens, and you struggle to find the words. “I just… I’ve always loved Steve. Not just as my best friend, but more than that. But I never thought he’d see me that way, you know? And now that he’s said this, I don’t know if I can let myself believe it.”

Nancy offers a small smile, her voice steady. “If Steve said it, he meant it. He doesn’t just throw those words around, especially not with you. But I get why you’re scared. It’s a big leap, and there’s a lot at stake. I guess the question is—do you trust him enough to take that leap?”

You sit in silence for a moment, her words sinking in. Finally, you let out a shaky breath. “I want to trust him. I just don’t want to lose him.”

Nancy stands up, grabbing her bag. “I don’t think you’re going to lose him. But you’re never going to know unless you talk to him. Steve’s stubborn, but he’s also patient. He’ll wait until you’re ready.”

You follow her to the door, her words echoing in your mind. “Thanks, Nancy,” you say quietly. “I needed that.”

She offers you a knowing smile. “Anytime. And Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not just his best friend. You’re his person. Don’t forget that.”

 Nancy’s words settle into the air, and a pang of guilt twists in your chest. You sit back on your bed, nervously picking at the frayed threads of your sweater.

“Nancy,” you start, your voice quieter than before. “Can I ask you something? And you can be honest, okay?”

She tilts her head, curiosity flickering in her eyes. “Of course.”

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of what you’re about to say. “Did I… ever make things harder for you and Steve? When you two were together?”

Nancy looks surprised for a moment, but she recovers quickly, shaking her head. “What? No. Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, guilt gnawing at you. “It’s just… he was my best friend, you know? And I guess I always worried that maybe—maybe I got in the way. Like, maybe my relationship with him made things weird or caused tension between you two. Every other girl broke up with him and blamed me.” 

Nancy’s expression softens, and she sits down beside you on the bed. “Y/N, listen to me. Whatever issues Steve and I had, they weren’t because of you. It’s on Steve and I. It’s on me. And, honestly… I’ve felt bad about it for a long time.”

You glance at her, your brows furrowing. “What do you mean?”

Nancy exhales deeply, brushing a hand through her hair as she glances at you, her expression tinged with guilt. “I guess I should just say it,” she starts hesitantly. “Everything that happened at Murray’s last week… it wasn’t exactly planned. But it also wasn’t some spur-of-the-moment thing, either.”

You blink, confused for a moment before realization dawns. “You mean… when you were with Jonathan?”

Nancy nods, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Yeah. I feel awful about it, especially because—well, Steve and I weren’t officially broken up yet. We were in this weird place, like we both knew things were falling apart, but we hadn’t said it out loud. And then…” She pauses, guilt flickering in her eyes. “I said some things I can’t take back.”

You hesitate, “Steve…kind of hinted that you did.”

She sighs, dropping her gaze. “I told him I didn’t love him. Not really. And I was drunk, so I just blurted it out. And after that, I… I slept with Jonathan when we were at Murray’s.”

Her voice is heavy with regret, and for a moment, you’re unsure of how to respond. She looks at you again, her eyes searching yours. “I hate that I hurt Steve like that, but honestly? After everything with Barb and Will last year, I waited. For a whole month, I waited for Jonathan to make a move, to say something, to give me some kind of sign. But he didn’t. And when he didn’t… I went back to Steve.”

You frown slightly, the pieces of their complicated history falling into place. “So, you and Steve…”

Nancy nods. “We weren’t perfect, not by a long shot, but it felt safe. Familiar. Like maybe if I tried hard enough, I could make it work. But deep down, I think I always knew it wasn’t going to last.”

Her words leave you quiet, a strange mix of emotions swirling in your chest. “Do you think he… knows how you felt?”

“I think he does now,” she admits softly. “After everything that happened last week, I think we both finally faced the truth. We weren’t holding onto each other because we were in love. We were holding on because it was easier than letting go.”

Her honesty feels like a weight lifted, and yet it also leaves you with a strange pang of guilt. “Nancy, I never meant to… I don’t know, make things harder for you two.”

She shakes her head quickly. “You didn’t. Trust me, Y/N, you were never the problem. If anything, I think you were part of what kept Steve grounded when everything else was falling apart.”

You open your mouth to argue, but she cuts you off, her tone firm. “Listen. Whatever happened between Steve and me, it was on us. You’ve always been his best friend. And honestly? You were what he needed—what he always needed. Don’t feel guilty about that.”

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Nancy pulls into the driveway of her house just as she spots Steve’s unmistakable car parked at the curb. She furrows her brow, stepping out of her car as Steve gets out of his.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, crossing her arms.

Steve jerks a thumb toward the passenger side of his car, where Dustin is already halfway out, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “Dropping off the little twerp,” he says, his tone teasing.

“Hey!” Dustin protests, shooting a glare at Steve before turning to Nancy. “Don’t let him fool you—he’s practically begging for my advice every time we hang out now.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Get inside, Henderson.”

Dustin smirks but doesn’t argue, heading toward the front door. As he disappears inside, Nancy tilts her head at Steve, her curiosity piqued.

“So,” she says, leaning casually against her car, “what’s really going on?”

Steve shifts uncomfortably, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. “What makes you think anything’s going on?”

Nancy raises an eyebrow, giving him a knowing look. “Because I just came from Y/N’s house.”

Steve stiffens, his expression guarded. “Yeah? And?”

“And,” Nancy says slowly, “she’s… confused. But in a good way. If that makes sense.”

Steve lets out a bitter laugh. “Confused. Right. That’s one way to put it.”

Nancy frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means she’s the one pulling away,” Steve says, frustration creeping into his voice. “And it’s not the first time, either. Every time things get close—too close—she just… runs. Like I don’t mean enough for her to stay.”

Nancy crosses her arms, her expression softening. “Steve, that’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” he snaps, before immediately sighing and running a hand through his hair. “Sorry. I just… I don’t get it. I put myself out there, and she shuts down. What am I supposed to do with that?”

Nancy steps closer, her tone firm but gentle. “You’re supposed to remember that Y/N’s been through a lot. She’s not pulling away because you don’t mean enough—she’s pulling away because you mean too much, and it terrifies her. You know that.”

Steve leans back against his car, his jaw tightening. “I’m tired of being the one who’s always chasing, Nancy.”

“I get that,” she says softly. “But you’re not exactly easy for her, either. You think it’s been simple for her to figure out where she fits into your life? Especially with… everything that’s happened?”

Steve looks at her, his frustration giving way to something more vulnerable.

Nancy sighs, her voice softening. “Steve, she cares about you. So much. But she’s scared—of hurting you, of getting hurt, of all of it. You’re both trying to protect each other in the most backward ways possible.”

Steve looks down at the pavement, her words sinking in.

“You know her better than anyone,” Nancy continues. “If you really care about her—and I know you do—you’ll be patient. She needs that from you right now, even if she doesn’t know how to say it.”

Steve nods slowly, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. “And if she keeps running?”

Nancy smirks faintly. “Then you stop chasing her like some knight in shining armor and just be her friend. Show her you’re not going anywhere. That’s what she really needs.”

Steve exhales, the tension in his shoulders easing just a bit. “You really think I have a shot?”

Nancy nods firmly. “I do. But you’re going to have to stop letting your ego get in the way and start listening to her.”

Steve offers a small smile. “Thanks, Wheeler. You’re not half-bad at this advice thing.”

Nancy chuckles, stepping back toward her car. “Don’t let it go to your head, Harrington. Now, go figure it out.”

Steve watches her head inside before climbing back into his car, her words still echoing in his mind. For the first time in a while, he feels like maybe he has a chance.

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Steve stands on the porch, his hand hesitating over the doorbell, unsure if he’s doing the right thing. Every nerve in his body is telling him to turn around, to give you the space you’ve been demanding, but something in him refuses to walk away. Not this time.

He knocks. A soft, quiet sound that somehow feels louder than it should be. He waits, but when the door finally creaks open, he’s not sure what he’s expecting. There you are, your eyes red, face blotchy, but it’s the exhaustion in your expression that hits him hardest. Like you’ve been carrying the weight of the world, and he hasn’t been there to help you with it.

You stare at him for a long beat, silent. Then, your eyes flicker away, and you step aside, almost reluctantly, like you want to pull away but can’t quite make yourself do it.

Steve steps into the dim hallway, pausing for a moment before looking at you again, his voice shaky as he finally speaks. “We’re good,” he says, the words feeling foreign on his tongue now. He calls to mind what he told you the other night, the words that had earned him a response from you that felt so much more promising than this silence between you now.

You look away, a small, almost imperceptible shake of your head. He swallows hard, the rawness of what he’s saying clawing at him. “Look, we don’t have to talk about it, okay?” he mutters, stepping closer, but careful not to push you. “I just need to be with you tonight. Like we used to. Listening to Queen, being there for each other. We’ve been through so much the past few days, so much we haven’t even—”

He cuts himself off, his voice trailing off in the heavy silence that fills the space between you. He wants to say more, wants to explain how terrified he is that he’s losing you, how much he’s been aching in this silence, but the words catch in his chest, too painful to speak aloud.

Your gaze softens for just a second, but it’s fleeting, and when you look at him again, there’s a distance that wasn’t there before. The ache in Steve’s chest grows sharper, but he doesn’t move. He’s here now. He’s not leaving.

With a sigh, you slowly nod, and it’s the smallest of gestures, but it feels like a concession, like you’re letting him in even though you’re not sure you should.

Steve steps past you, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. He doesn’t know how this will play out, or what the next day will bring. But tonight, for a few hours, he wants to hold onto the part of you he still knows. Maybe tomorrow he’ll figure out what to do with the mess that’s left between you. But for now, he just wants to be there.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

You lay on the bed, your eyes tracing the familiar cracks in the ceiling as silent tears slip down your face. The weight of everything—the words, the feelings, the confusion—presses down on you in a way you can’t escape. You’re torn between wanting to stay close to Steve, to believe that there’s something real between you, and the fear that maybe all of this is just a result of the chaos surrounding you.

Steve lays next to you, the soft hum of the record player filling the room, but the silence between you is thick and suffocating. Neither of you speaks. Both of you are lost in your thoughts, drowning in the unspoken tension that’s become impossible to ignore.

After a long, painful silence, you reach out, your hand trembling as you pick up a crumpled-up note from the bed beside you. It’s a familiar weight, one that you’d hidden for years, and now it feels like the only thing you can offer him. You hand Steve the crumpled letter. Your fingers linger for a second before letting go, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Read it when you get home, okay?”

Steve hesitates, glancing between the letter and you. “Are you sure?”

You nod, eyes fixed on the ceiling, unable to meet his gaze. “Just… not here. Please.”

He doesn’t push, sensing the fragility of the moment. Instead, he tucks the letter carefully into his jacket pocket and lays back beside you, the weight of unspoken words thick in the air. For the rest of the night, neither of you speaks, the silence both comforting and charged.

When it’s time for him to leave, Steve rises quietly, his steps deliberate and slow. He pauses at the door, glancing back at you one last time, curled up under the covers, your face turned away. He reaches into his jacket, pulling out a folded piece of paper—the note he found with Dustin.

Without a word, he places it on your dresser, hidden just enough for you to find it later, and slips out of the room.

As the door clicks shut, you close your eyes, the heaviness of the night settling over you. Little do you know, the words Steve left behind are waiting to change everything.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Steve steps into his darkened house, the familiar silence pressing in around him. Tossing his keys onto the kitchen counter, he pulls the crumpled letter from his pocket and unfolds it carefully, smoothing the creases as if the words might slip away if he isn’t gentle enough.

The handwriting is unmistakably yours—slightly slanted, the ink smudged in places. His chest tightens before he even reads the first word, the weight of what this letter might hold hitting him like a freight train.

Dear Steve,

I’m not sure I should even be writing this. Maybe I won’t even give it to you. Do you remember in the fifth grade when you asked me to marry you? I told you boys were gross and I’d never marry one. Later that night, you climbed the tree outside my window for the first time and knocked on the glass to propose again. You said your mom had told you about Romeo and Juliet, and how Romeo climbed up to her window because he loved her. You promised you’d never stop climbing my window until I said yes because you loved me.

As his eyes scan the page, memories flash through his mind like a reel of film. A small smile tugs at his lips, bittersweet and nostalgic. He does remember. He remembers the way you rolled your eyes at him, how he’s never stopped climbing that tree outside your window and he never will.

A year later, when we were twelve, some kids in our class started talking about kissing, and everyone thought it was gross. So we tried it. We both liked it. A lot. I think that’s because we liked each other. 

His breath catches. He’s suddenly back in that moment—young, nervous, and exhilarated. He remembers the way your laughter had bubbled up after, the way you had looked at him like he was the only person in the world.

Here’s where the problem is, Steve—I don’t think I ever stopped liking you.

Steve swallows hard, his fingers gripping the edge of the paper as his heart pounds in his chest. He reads the words again, slower this time, as if savoring them will make them feel less surreal.

I didn’t fully realize it at first. Sure, I’ve had crushes on other boys, but none of them made me feel the way you do. You’re the one I actually enjoy spending time with. When Mom and Dad fight, she always tells me that if I ever get married, I need to marry someone who’s my friend first. She says the key to a happy relationship is falling in love with your best friend. (I still think marriage is kind of gross, and boys are too. You’re just the least gross, I guess.) And, well… you’re my best friend.

Sometimes I think about being an adult with you—no school, just us. We could listen to music and watch movies all day long. We could kiss whenever we wanted to. (I’ve wanted to kiss you again for a while now, but you’ve been kissing Julie from science class, and I don’t want it to feel like I’m kissing her by kissing you.) Honestly, I’d love to just laugh with you for the rest of my life.

A soft, shaky laugh escapes him, but it’s lined with something deeper—regret, maybe, or longing. He presses a hand to his face, trying to process the flood of emotions washing over him.

The letter feels like a window into a version of you he never fully understood, a version that had been hiding in plain sight all along. You had felt this way for so long, and he had been so blind to it, too caught up in his own confusion and fears to notice.

You’re always telling me how much I annoy you because I can never pick a favorite anything. But the truth is, I do have a favorite—and it’s you.

You’re my favorite person. My favorite way to spend a late night at Lover’s Lake. My favorite pair of eyes to get lost in when we’re hiding under the covers, trying not to get caught after you’ve snuck in. My favorite arms to wrap around me. My favorite voice.

You’re all my favorites.

Okay, I’m grossing myself out now, so I’m going to stop writing. But I guess… I hope I fall in love with you. And maybe one day you’ll feel the same. I think I’d like that a lot.

Y/N

As he reads the final lines—You’re my favorite person… You’re all of my favorites—he feels something inside him crack open.

“Jesus, Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible in the empty room.

He sets the letter down on the counter, staring at it as if it might disappear. A lump rises in his throat, and he swipes at his eyes quickly, irritated at himself for being this emotional.

But he can’t help it. The words you wrote, the vulnerability you had poured into them—it’s everything he’s ever wanted to hear and everything he’s terrified of.

Grabbing the letter, he folds it carefully and tucks it back into his pocket, a newfound determination lighting his eyes.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

You stand in front of the mirror, smoothing out your dress for the winter ball. It feels strange dressing up for an event that’s not even about you—but the kids deserve this, and chaperoning is part of the deal. The fact that Steve might be there too only adds to the weight pressing on your chest.

As you reach for your jewelry box on the dresser, your hand grazes something unfamiliar. You glance down to find a folded piece of notebook paper, tucked just out of sight beneath your hairbrush.

Curious, you pick it up, noticing the boyish scrawl of handwriting on the front. You immediately recognize it. Steve’s.

Your heart stutters. You sit on the edge of your bed, fingers trembling slightly as you unfold the note. The edges are frayed, and the ink is faint in places, as if it’s been folded and tucked away for years.

You start to read:

Y/N,

I don’t know why I’m writing this, but if I don’t, I think I might lose my mind. I can’t say this to you out loud, and maybe I’ll never give this to you, but at least it’s out of my head.

You’re my favorite person. You’re the one I think about when I’m having a bad day, the one who makes me laugh so hard I forget about everything else. 

But it’s not just that. It’s so much more. So, I put in here a list I’ve made of all the reasons why you’re my favorite person.

The way you always sticks up for people, even when you’re intimidated. It’s the way you bite your lip when you’re thinking too hard. Or how you always get mad when I cheat at Monopoly, even though you know I’ll never stop doing it. It’s how everything feels easier when you’re around, like nothing can touch me. Don’t even get me started about the dream I had about you in that red bathing suit. You know the one…Yeah. I’m definitely never letting you read this.

Anyways, I think I like you, Y/N. Scratch that—I know I do. I like you in a way that feels way too big for me to handle. But I don’t know if I’ll ever tell you because what if it messes everything up? You’re my best friend, and I’d rather keep you in my life like this than risk losing you completely.

So, yeah. I like you. A lot. And if you ever find this somehow, just know that even if I never say it, it’s how I’ve always felt.

Steve

You lower the note slowly, your vision blurred by the tears pooling in your eyes. The boy Steve was back then—earnest, vulnerable, and so full of quiet, unspoken affection—is written all over these words. And now, looking back, you can see him in the man he is today.

He’s always felt this way.

Your chest tightens as the truth settles over you, undeniable and steady, like the weight of the letter in your hand. This wasn’t adrenaline, or chaos, or the heat of the moment making him say what he did at the Byers’ house. It’s always been there—this love he’s carried for you, just like the note. It was there the day you told him it was best to just stay friends. It was there on every night he’d sneak under your covers or you under his. And it was there in every knowing look from your friends, every teasing question about where you’d both disappeared to when no one else could find you.

Carefully, you fold it back up, your hands trembling as you slip it into your jewelry box like a secret you’re not ready to let go of but need to protect. You glance at the clock, realizing you’re running out of time, but the thought barely registers.

Taking a shaky breath, you brush away the stray tears threatening to streak your makeup. And for the first time in days, there’s no confusion, no doubt. Only the exhilarating, terrifying truth: Steve’s feelings weren’t born in a single moment—they’ve been there for years. Just like yours.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

[welcomethefears]

Part One

(Oops I slipped and wrote more :) )

As he heard the sound of clashing swords behind him, Legolas once again felt his mind drifting to (Y/N), not for the first time since the fellowship had left Rivendell. As Boromir, a rather bawdy human as Legolas regarded, clashed playfully with the Hobbits, Legolas found himself tracing another memory of the (H/C) haired she-elf. Seeing the clashing of sword and dagger, well swords for the halflings, Legolas saw his young friend.

It was one of the trips soon after the one he initially met (Y/N), during a time in which they always fought. That day was no different. In trying to prove herself, or as he thought at the time, embarrass him, Legolas had approached his regiment of guards only to find them fighting the young noble born girl. He remembered how taken aback he had been, seeing what he thought a prissy princess to be tussling with warrior elves. She was holding her own only due to her vigour, as undoubtedly her movements were sloppy and unrefined. Although to any other race of Middle Earth she would seem as graceful as a trained dancer, Legolas’ keen eyes picked apart each mistake she had made. Upon seeing their prince, the Mirkwood elves had dispersed, and the guard attacking (Y/N) had disengaged much to her frustration.

“What do you want pretty boy?” (Y/N) had asked him in an annoyed tone, causing Legolas to blush lightly, both now upon reliving the memory and in the memory. At the time however, Legolas was also angered by her words. During those years of rivalry, she loved to call him names, always enjoyed seeing him seethe with indignation. Perhaps it had been because of how flawless his father was that she wanted to crack his uptight shell, or perhaps when she called him pretty boy, she had really meant it. Legolas now believed the latter but chuckled slightly remembering what had happened next.

“I have a patrol in the forests I need to take this lot on. If you’ll return to your father’s side then perhaps, we can continue with our work unimpeded,” He had asserted, wanting to pinch a nerve. He had done so successfully, as he watched her face flush in embarrassment at his words, however the outcome was completely different from what he had desired.

“I believe you’ll need an extra pair of hands, led the way, Prince Legolas,” She replied angrily, grabbing at a nearby short sword and shoving it into the leather belt she wore around her tunic. She had not been bluffing when she asserted, she’d join the patrol, and Legolas now thought that had been her ploy all along, after all, she hadn’t worn one of her flowing gowns that day. He recalls how she stuck annoyingly close to his side that patrol, taking a lead jokingly over him in a way that he had felt undermined his leadership. In reality she had just been trying to amuse him and help him where she could. He remembers now how her braided (H/C) shone in the rare pockets of sunshine that Mirkwood forest would sometimes get, and how his arrow was trained towards the unknown that may threaten her. He cannot recall how the two separated from the regiment, but he can picture what they encountered next. It was a nest of the large spiders that threatened the peace of the Mirkwood forest, and Legolas had been swift to decimate as many fledgling arachnids as possible. Before he could finish them off however she had launched herself to stand between the remaining spiderlings and him.

“Stand aside, Princess,” He had hissed at her, already frustrated with her presence, anger growing even further with her current actions.

“This is foolish Legolas. If you kill all these spiderlings the fully grown ones will grow agitated. You’re putting future patrols in danger. Besides, killing every single one will disrupt the natural order. We must leave at leave some alive, so the earth is stable,” She had asserted, drawing her sword from her side to defend the creatures further. Legolas was beyond furious at the time, but now he could see her strength in that moment. (Y/N) had always been more connected with the land and her creatures than he ever had, and she was easily more knowledgeable as well. He admired that about her now, but during this incident he hated it fiercely. At the time he drew him own short sword, and the two clashed as best they could. Despite her best attempts, Legolas was, and always had been, the greater fighter of the two.

Legolas had pinned her the forest floor, her braid picking up twigs and green grass from the forest floor as she grit her teeth at his proximity. In a flush of anger and annoyance he had pressed the blade in her neck, yet she stared back at him defiantly. They had eventually been broken apart when a more senior guard had found and dragged the two back to the citadel as they threw insults at each other. The nest had been left, and although Legolas had to fight off those spiders later, he acknowledged that the order of the forest remained for another cycle.

He shook his head as he returned to the current moment, glancing at the play fight in front of him. It was much less aggressive than his had been with (Y/N) all those decades ago, and so he shook his head softly. He felt someone bump his shoulder, and Aragorn looked almost knowingly into his eyes.

“Keep a look out, will you?” Aragorn instructed, directly Legolas’ gaze to the horizon with his own grey eyes. Legolas rolled his eyes in response, before turning to dutifully keep look out for the group. As he kept watch, hearing the clashing of swords still, his eyebrows furrowed as he saw something on the horizon.

“What is that?” Sam asked with concern.

“Nothing… it’s just a whisp of cloud,” Gimli dismissed, causing Legolas to grow agitated, just as he had once done with (Y/N).

“It’s moving fast… against the wind,” Boromir observed worriedly, immediately halting the fight which had cause Legolas to reminisce. Legolas raised his own brows in worry now, before yelling to group in a panicked warning.

“Crebain from Dunland!”

“Hide!” Instructed Aragorn as Legolas hid as quickly as he could. As he found cover, his thought flashed quickly to (Y/N), wondering what she would have done in this situation.

~*~

Legolas looked on carefully as Bill the pony retreated from the Fellowship, the small, stout and reliable creature that was now unburdened from the supplies trotted away with little care. Aragorn had said he knew the way home, but Legolas couldn’t help but worry slightly about the poor creature. Perhaps that was a lingering effect from (Y/N)’s companionship, his worries and valuing of the creatures of Middle Earth. That time he had found her with an eagle was not exceptional, and he found his lips upturning slightly while thinking of her nurturing approach to creatures. Sam seemed fairly upset and quietly unsettled at having to say his goodbyes to Bill, but Legolas knew it was for the better. The quest ahead was going to be rough to put it lightly, and it was no place for such a kind soul as a pony. Although they had not spoken at length so far on this journey, Legolas found himself wandering towards the round halfling. Upon closer inspection, this was hitting Sam harder than Legolas first assumed. Likely Bill’s departure was an indication that this journey was going to be so much harder than Sam had ever imagined, for if a pony could not accompany them, it was surely going to be a challenge.

“It is better he does not accompany us. I was told once that equine’s will follow their companions through the worst dangers possible, without a care for their own wellbeing. It is a kind mercy that you spare Bill from facing what is ahead,” Legolas told Sam, trying his best to comfort him. He had placed a hand on his shoulder to try and comfort him, but in truth Legolas had little experience physically comforting people. Even when he had broken (Y/N)’s heart, he had awkwardly hovered over her sobbing form, unable to find it in himself to reach out and embrace her.

“I am grateful for your words. The person who told you that is as wise as they are kind Mr Legolas,” Sam replied, patting Legolas’ hand to acknowledge his attempts to comfort him. Legolas nodded, his smile from before at remembering (Y/N) growing more.

“She is indeed,” Legolas confirmed with a nod, pulling his hand away to give Sam a little space to process his feelings.

“Tell me about this elleth, perhaps it will distract me from the sadness I feel over Bill,” Sam instructed, although his tone was incredibly soft and melancholic. Legolas smiled but was quietly surprised that Sam did not know he was talking about (Y/N). From how close Frodo and Sam were, he had assumed that Frodo had relayed all the information he knew. As Legolas recalled, Hobbits had a penchant for gossip, but nonetheless he felt lighter at the prospect of talking about someone he valued so dearly.

“I recall this one memory in particular of her, from when we used to despise each other, though I promise now she is valued companion. I had been visiting her family in Rivendell to participate in negotiations of some description, I no longer remember the specifics. I had been tending to my horse a day or so after my arrival, brushing his coat in an attempt to escape the politics of my father.  This elleth, her name is (Y/N), had approached me in the stables. Her (h/c) hair was braided neatly, and she was dressed in riding clothes. It was clear that she was there for similar reasons. She approached her own horse, a dappled grey mare, who whinnied softly at seeing her rider. (Y/N) has always been in tune with the creatures of Middle Earth, as was evident with the way all the horses in the stable had turned their attention to her, including my own stallion. In those days I was jealous of her abilities, and I was immature enough to let a competitive spirit sour our encounters.

She approached me kindly while holding the mare’s reins and informed me that the way I was tending to my horse could be better, and that he preferred a wooden comb for his mane. She has this innate ability to read all those around her, including the creatures she wandered through life with. Before I learnt to appreciate this, it angered me greatly. I challenged her to a ride around the outskirts of Rivendell, intending to demonstrate my own prowess with horses. (Y/N) is stubborn, always has been, and so she angered slightly at my own attitude. I know now that challenging her, questioning her about her knowledge of creatures was foolish, she had always been insecure of her abilities. I should not have pushed her to race, and yet she responded with a fire I have rarely seen in any companion I have known.

She was quick, a strong rider with an even stronger bond to her mare which she tended to like a mother would a child. This was her only weakness in the race against me, she cared too greatly for the creature. I purposely chose a path which would push our horses, and I knew no fear in placing my horse in danger. She lost the race and was furious at me. She could not care less about the race by the end of it, for she was more concerned for the wellbeing of my stallion. She would be terrible on a battlefield, but I could tell this care was why Rivendell had such loyal horses. I was astounded by her accusation, that I cared little for my stallion, and stormed away to calm myself in a nearby forest.

She had found us later, the horse and I, approaching in a calmer manner. She apologized for outburst towards me, before explaining herself. It was then I understood her perspective, and little by little I have been working towards viewing all of Middle Earth’s creatures with the reverence she has for them. She would be proud we are caring for Bill in such a way, since he is a loyal pony who would do anything for you,” Legolas finished, smiling down at Sam as he finished recounting the tale. He purposefully left out the part where he had truly started to admire her after this encounter, and that he had apologized greatly for placing his horse in danger over a simple rivalry.

Upon reflection now, he had challenged (Y/N) to the race so he could watch her ride. When he had watched her ride into Mirkwood she had always been rigid and proper, so seeing a more relaxed version of her race him was tantalizing. Her husbandry of horses was incredible, that he could now admit. She was an incredible rider and even better carer, and Legolas was in quiet awe each time he rode with her. Perhaps it was his own insecurity about his connection to the lands, feeling that as an elf, a prince at that, his knowledge should be strong. Now though, he knew simply that her knowledge filled his gaps, rather than challenged his.

“She sounds very kind indeed. You seem incredibly fond of this elleth,” Sam replied after fully absorbing Legolas’ story. Legolas blinked himself back into the moment, tearing his mind away from the image of (Y/N) riding her mare with incredible skill.

“I am fond of her. She is one of my closest companions,” Legolas replied with a smile.

“A companion? Forgive me for my forwardness Mr Legolas but you speak of (Y/N) the way I speak of Rosie Cotton. She is the most amazing lass I have ever seen, and I intend to marry her one day,” Sam announced confidently to Legolas, which took him a back slightly. He spoke of (Y/N) the way Sam spoke of the woman he wanted to marry? Legolas was shocked, he could not form his thoughts, let alone words for the thoughts. Married? To (Y/N)? His stomach churned and his heart felt heavy as he thought about the gorgeous elleth who’s heart he had shattered in a million pieces.

“I wish you luck in wooing your love,” Legolas replied in a way which was certainly kind, but also indicated that he did not wish to address the conversation further. Sam nodded in response, picking up on the subtle hint that Legolas was struggling to understand how he felt.

Legolas departed from Sam’s side, sitting himself on a rock nearby to gaze at the water. He watched with narrowed eyes as Merry and Pippin threw rocks into the water, trying his best to attune himself to the present rather than become preoccupied with more, overwhelming thoughts of (Y/N).

[runariya]

Prompt idea: 🐉🤫

Hybrid Behavior Doctor JK v. Husky female. Husky female has behavior problems as she was abused for years and then dumped off by her owner. She doesn't like being touched and wants to be left alone. JK is a behavior specialist for hybrids so he is tasked with taking her home and trying to rehab her for adoption. He has his hands full. She destroys his furniture, scratches his door frames, doesn't clean up after herself, and leaves junk food wrappers and bags all over his house because she doesn't want to eat proper food. But he knows that what she's looking for is attention and she's acting badly to get it. So when he ignores her, it bugs her and she seeks him out. Eventually she becomes used to him, and she lets him touch her a few times. Feelings slowly grow between them. When it's time for her to be put up for adoption, he doesn't want her to leave him and he asks if she wants to stay. She agrees and he asks her on a date.

I originally pictured smut for the ending, but now that I've reached the end of my description, it kind of doesn't need it. I'll leave it up to you and how the story writes itself. If it goes in a more flirty, sexy manner, you can put the smut in at the end. If it goes more friendly to new love where it's way too early for them to have sex, then you can leave the smut out.

(hybrid+smut) part of the prompt game pairing: hybrid behaviour doctor!Jungkook x husky hybrid!female reader genre: hybrid!AU, S2L, fluff warnings: bratty reader, understanding JK, allusion to abuse, fluff word count: 1.308

a/n: I went with the 'more friendly to new love' theme, hope that's alright 💕

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Jungkook’s a professional, a hybrid behaviour specialist to be exact, so why does he get frustrated?

He’s spent years working with hybrids of all kinds, from jittery squirrels to brooding panthers, and he’s always been able to handle them. He prides himself on his calm, patient approach.

But you?

You’re on a whole different level.

From the moment he brought you into his home, it’s been absolute chaos. You’re a husky hybrid, all sharp fangs and attitude, with a permanent scowl etched onto your face. You don’t trust him, don’t trust anyone, really, and that’s understandable, considering your background.

Your last owner didn’t just neglect you; they left you broken. Abused, abandoned, and dumped off like you were nothing. It makes Jungkook’s blood boil every time he thinks about it. He knows it’s going to take time to get through to you, but he’s never met anyone so determined to make that process as difficult as possible.

You refuse to let him touch you. You destroy his sofa cushions like it’s a personal mission. You’ve scratched deep gouges into his doorframes, chewed on the corner of his coffee table, and left wrappers and empty crisp packets scattered across every available surface.

“Messy,” he mutters to himself, picking up a half-crushed bag of crisps from under the sofa.

You’re perched in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed and tail swishing in irritation as you watch him. “Maybe if your food wasn’t so boring, I wouldn’t have to eat crisps for dinner.”

“My food isn’t boring,” he counters, tossing the bag into the bin. “It’s healthy.”

“Healthy’s boring,” you shoot back, smirking like you’ve just won some kind of argument.

He sighs. He knows this is part of the act. You’re defiant because it gives you control, you make a mess because you want to provoke him. He’s seen it before in other hybrids who’ve been mistreated, it’s your way of testing him, of seeing if he’ll snap.

But he won’t, ever. 

“Suit yourself,” he mutters, brushing past you to grab his laptop off the counter. He makes a note about your eating habits, not that they’re habits, really. More like disasters waiting to happen at this point.

You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re not going to tell me off?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re looking for attention,” he says casually, not even glancing up.

Your ears twitch, and he knows he’s hit a nerve. “I’m not,” you grumble. 

“Sure you’re not,” he replies, biting back a smile. He knows ignoring you drives you mad, but it’s all part of the plan. If he reacts to your antics, it’ll only reinforce them. If he doesn’t… well, eventually, you’ll come to him on your own.

It’s already starting to work.

You storm off in a huff, probably to destroy something else, but Jungkook doesn’t follow. He knows you’ll be back.

And you are.

Later that evening, you poke your head into his office, pretending you’re just passing by. Your ears are pinned back slightly, a telltale sign that you’re unsure, and Jungkook hides a smirk behind his laptop.

“Need something?” he asks, keeping his tone as natural as possible. 

You shrug, leaning against the doorframe. “What are you working on?”

“Notes,” he states simply.

You frown, clearly expecting more of a reaction. “Notes about me?”

“Maybe.”

“Am I doing that badly?”

He glances up at you then. “You’re not doing badly,” he admits, and he means every word. “You’re just… figuring things out.”

You huff again, but you don’t leave. Instead, you wander further into the room, pretending to examine the books on his shelf. Jungkook knows better than to push you, so he lets you roam in silence.

After a while, you plop down on the floor right beside him, your tail curling around your legs. “I don’t like it here,” you mutter.

He raises an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“It’s too quiet,” you pick at a loose threat on the carpet. “And you’re boring.”

Jungkook bites back a laugh. “Boring, am I?”

“Yeah.” You glance up at him, your eyes unusually serious. “But… I don’t hate it as much as I thought I would.”

It’s the closest thing to a compliment you’ve ever given him, and Jungkook feels a small beam of hope. Maybe he’s starting to get through to you.

🐕

The weeks pass, and slowly, things begin to change.

You still have your moments, like when you chewed through one of his shoelaces because he refused to let you eat biscuits for breakfast, but they’re less frequent. You’ve stopped trashing the place quite so often, and sometimes, you even sit with him on the sofa without scowling the whole time.

You let him brush your tail once, and though you complained the entire time, Jungkook could tell you didn’t truly hate it.

And then there are the smaller moments that mean so much more. The way you hover in the kitchen while he cooks, pretending you’re not interested in what he’s making. The way you roam in his office, curling up on the floor like you just want to be near someone. The way you’ve started calling him by his name instead of “Doctor Boring”.

It’s these moments that make Jungkook realise something’s finally shifted, not just in you, but in him, too.

Because, he doesn’t want you to leave.

It hits him square in the face one evening as he’s watching you sprawl across the sofa, your legs dangling off the back and your ears twitching as you flick through the channels. The thought of you going to a new home, with someone else, feels incredibly wrong to him.

The day he’s supposed to start your adoption process, Jungkook can’t focus. You’re in the kitchen, rummaging through the cupboards for God-knows-what, and he’s sitting at the table with his laptop, staring at the blank application form.

“You’re quiet,” you observe, glancing over your shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he lies, though it’s in vain.

You narrow your eyes at him, and he knows he’s been caught. You’re sharper than you let on, and it’s one of the things he’s come to admire about you.

“Spit it out.”

He takes a deep breath, deciding to just go for it. “I was supposed to start your adoption paperwork today.”

Your ears perk up slightly, but you don’t say anything.

“And I realised…” He hesitates, his heart pounding out of his mouth. “I don’t want you to go.”

Your cock your brows at that, nearly touching your hairline, and for a moment, you just stare at him. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying…” He stands up, crossing the room until he’s standing in front of you. “I want you to stay. Here. With me.”

You blink up at him. “Are you serious?”

“Completely, but only if you want to.”

There’s a long pause, and then, to his relief, you smile. It’s small and shy, but it’s unmistakable.

“I want to,” you nod softly.

Jungkook’s chest feels like it’s going to burst. “Good. Because I was really hoping you’d say that.”

You look away, but there’s a warmth in your eyes he’s never seen before.

“So, what now?” you ask with big eyes, turning and tilting your head.

“Now…” He hesitates, suddenly feeling like a nervous teenager. “Now I ask you on a date.”

“A date?” You giggle.

“Yeah,I mean, if we’re going to live together, we might as well see if we can survive a dinner out.”

You pretend to think about it, your tail swishing behind you. “Alright. But only if I get to pick the restaurant.”

“Deal.”

Before he can second-guess himself, Jungkook leans down and presses a soft, tentative kiss to your forehead. It’s brief, but the way you look up at him afterwards, ears twitching and cheeks flushed, tells him everything he needs to know.

You’re home.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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[in-the-multiverse]

I love soundtrack so here’s a sample of the ossha arc divided by character themes

I tried finding stuff that was purely instrumental and fit the vibe of everyone involved. Below the cut are links to the music and my explanation for them. Also! These are just my interpretation. If you have other music that you feel fits the characters, please share! I’d love to hear them :D

[OSSHA Avid] - Cancion by Bryan Dunne - it’s linked to the instrumental break. Ignore the lyrics they’ve got nothing to do with this. I dug around for other music with a similar sound, but nowhere else has this exact tune sooo

I had to include it. It’s too good. It’s got the jungle-y vibe with drums and easy going tune….before slowly spiralling with a high pitched sound that warns you of incoming danger. I imagine this playing at jungle kingdom while Avid lures Milkman to the tube room. “True intentions get revealed” type of theme

[Ruby] - Village of the Doomed, American McGee’s Alice ost - the ending of Ruby’s 8th episode reminded me of a neat little track that features clock noises! Something ominous was going on, and it’s reflected in the way the music creeps around while static/distorted noise rolls in. I can also see this playing when Ruby talks about collecting IOUs… something ominous indeed

[Rue] - Lost in Transmission, Little Nightmares 2 ost - keeping the music box but losing the ticking clock sound. Originally, I went through little nightmares ost because Cloneby had a creepy reputation. I settled on one that had a slow pace and felt off-putting in the perspective of other sbkers. But when she debuted in her own episode as Rue, this track also worked at a different angle. Another interpretation is how it feels like she’s out of place. The beginning is muffled and distant, then gradually becomes clear. It’s timid, but gentle. Then vintage’s episode happened and I went [damage noise] [damage noise] [damage noise] by what happens in LN2. Unintentional coincidence…. [damage noise]

[Trog] - basslord by predawka - this track hones in on their unusual and unpredictable nature of doing things in skyblock, in a very playful way! “God made this world and god gets to have fun with it” is the vibe, basically. They’re also not immune to the plot, as the later half of the music distorts and the tone shifts

[Clone Trog] - Planets by Jerobeam Fenderson - keeping the funky electronic groove, but now a different tune! Clone Trog is a spy, so I wanted a theme that felt more controlled and analytical. It’s music following a command. This specific version actually comes from a really cool animation meme, the original is longer and has more of an upbeat feel (it also comes with cool visuals. flash warning though)

[Milkman] - Shotgun, Plock! ost - this is so milkman. It’s lively and mischievous, keeping a steadfast beat like there’s no stopping his pranks and schemes. You can almost hear a laugh within the music (but that might just be me)

[Cloneman] - A Troubled Town, Miitopia ost - keeping the bass sound, but losing rhythm. It reflects his constant confusion. A fractured melody that wanders around- never on beat, never confident in itself, just…not quite right

[Red Fool] - Lazarus Waves, DOOM ost - Fool knew something was different with his partner, and he knew Avid was involved somehow. As he got more stressed and frustrated over time, his skin went from gold to orange to a furious red. He interrogated Avid, and when that got him nowhere he set the headquarters ablaze, and left a message in the control room that said “GIVE HIM BACK”

I chose a track to describe that sequence of events. Doom ost felt pretty fitting here. A lot of their music is intense, but this one’s a slow build-up and foreboding. Fool’s anger was quiet and destructive, and very very clear that he was not someone to be messed with

[Kittrix] - GOD RACE (Temptation Stairway OST) by METAROOM - “Step 6. And this is the most important step. Defy OSSHA!” She thrives on chaos as a proud member of the chaotic acacia kingdom, so her theme is unapologetically bold and vibrant. Ossha regulations are meant to be broken, and this music follows its own rhythm. It’s mostly very energetic, in a similar genre to Trog’s theme. It also distorts and falls apart at the very end (glitch/flash warning for the video)

[Vintage] - K.K Étude (Aircheck), animal crossing ost - what better music to suit a sweet, polite unpaid intern than some good ol’ animal crossing. It’s a lovely piano track, the right amount of cheerful energy, something that says “don’t mind me :) happy to be here”. There’s a brief stutter/glitch, then the tune goes back to normal. “Don’t mind me :) working as usual” A classical vibe, too

[Void Witches] - House In The Woods, Hilda ost - I imagine this as the theme that overpowers Avid’s presence at mangrove kingdom. It’s mystical, it’s got hushed vocals and wood creaking sound effects, overall very ambient and witch-y. Mangrove was one of the most vocal kingdoms against ossha, and I wanted their theme to feel powerful in its own right

[Olm] - Night on Bald Mountain by Mussorgsky - Olm was behind the entire ossha operation so I looked for something to match the villain energy. Since he’s an ancient being, I thought it’d be nice to get classical music. His theme would be very dramatic, very commanding, and full of “big bad guy” energy. An entire showdown of the power he wields

(Side tangent, I first heard this on Fantasia! It’s a movie from 1940 and the animators had a lot of freedom to do what they wanted. Everything was beautifully hand drawn, here’s a scene from night on bald mountain, it’s incredible. The entire movie rewired my brain growing up, I love it so much)

[maddy-k-reads-all-day]

Bedtime snacks!

Okay… I had some time and Amanda seemed upset when I did my homework before watching the next tape but… wow. That… that was hard. I don’t remember Riley saying the puzzles were this hard. Okay… maybe I felt they were exaggerating because I know they hate puzzles… but I love puzzles! So like… it shouldn’t be this hard right? Sophie thinks. But now she finally has it. The next tape, titled Bedtime Snacks! 

I’m going to need a bedtime snack after this… Sophie thinks to herself. Looking at the time. She puts the next tape into the VCR and it starts to play. The tape begins with Wooly laying in bed, staring at the ceiling. He eventually notices Sophie. 

“Oh, hi there friend! Are there ever times where you feel like you just can’t sleep?” he asks. Sophie types in yes. “Yeah… heh heh… it happens all the time. It’s like your thoughts are just whirling around in your head and they just won’t stop! Well… sometimes it’s not even that. Sometimes I just… wait and wait and wait… and I just don’t fall asleep. It’s kind of annoying honestly.” 

Honestly I just stay up really late on my phone or doing assignments and suddenly it’s morning. We’re not the same. Sophie thinks. 

“What do you do when you can’t sleep?” he asks, but no text box appears so Sophie stays quiet. Wooly stands there awkwardly. “Um… good for you? I think? Um anyway, I think a nice bedtime snack can sometimes be good. Like some milk and cookies! But don’t tell Amanda okay? If she finds out we had cookies without her she’ll be really upset.” 

“Maybe you could invite her?” Sophie suggests. Wait, I'm not supposed to talk!

“Well she’s sleeping, and I think she’d be more upset if I woke her up so… hmm… let’s just keep this between us okay?” Sophie types in yes. Wooly smiles. “Don’t go telling Amanda behind my back, okay?” Okay Sophie types. “Ooookay then. Let’s go to the kitchen!” the tape glitches to the kitchen. Wooly is quiet for a bit, as if contemplating something. 

“Milk is so much better at night when it’s warm…” he whispers. “But we don’t have a microwave… so I guess it’ll have to be cold.” Wooly pouts. Sophie clicks on the stove. “I… I’m confused, what do you want me to do?” she clicks it again. “You can talk, you know, I won’t get mad.” 

“You can heat up the milk in a saucepan on the stovetop.” she explains. Wooly’s eyes light up with excitement. Then he stops. 

“But… we really shouldn’t be using the stove without an adult…” he mumbles. His face contorts a bit in frustration, “but it’s been forever since I’ve gotten to make myself a warm cup of milk…” 

He sounds like he’s arguing with himself Sophie thinks. 

“Mmm… weeeeelll. You’re an adult right? So it should be fine! Just… don’t tell Amanda okay?” 

This really isn’t going to help Amanda trust me… but okay… Sophie thinks. “Do you need any help?” 

“Yeah… maybe… I’ve only ever done this in a microwave…” Wooly answers. 

“You’ve done this before?” 

“Yeah I used to have warm milk with my little sister every night… then I’d read her a story… We had this whole routine. She couldn’t fall asleep without it… honestly neither could I… mmmm….” he pauses, “being able to remember her again after so long is weird… but I think I’m starting to see why Amanda wanted to remember her dad and Kate so much…” he stays quiet for a moment, as if reminiscing. Sophie gives him a moment. “So… what do we do?” he asks. 

“Well, like I said, you heat up the milk in a saucepan over the stovetop on low heat…” 

“Great! Can you help me find the saucepan? Is it under the sink, in the fridge, or in the stove?” Sophie clicks under the sink. “That’s… right.” Wooly says, a little surprised by this. He goes under the sink and gets the saucepan. “Now… Could you tell me where the milk is?” Sophie clicks on the fridge. Wooly smiles. “Hehe, great job. Now could you tell me where the measuring cup is?” Sophie clicks on the cupboard. “Wow, right again! You’re a master at this!” 

Honestly I have no idea where any of your stuff is. I'm just picking what I think is the most logical answer. Sophie thinks to herself. 

“Can I tell you a secret? Honestly climbing and grabbing stuff from high places always makes me super nervous… could you grab it for me?” he asks. Sophie clicks and drags the measuring cup down onto the counter. “Awww thanks! You’re so nice! Alright. We need one cup of milk. Can you help me pour it?” Wooly starts pouring the milk in and Sophie clicks on it once it reaches one cup. “Perfect!” Then Wooly pours the milk into the saucepan. “You know what? I like you way better than Riley. Usually Riley always teases us and keeps picking the wrong answers on purpose! But you’re actually helpful!” 

Riley… Sophie thinks to herself. “Yeah Riley tends to tease people they care about. It’s kind of their way of showing love.” Sophie laughs. 

“Well I find it really annoying!” Wooly pouts, “Ah! But don’t tell them that, okay? Um… what do I do next?” 

“You have to simmer it on low heat until it reaches the desired temperature.” Sophie answers. Wooly pauses for a moment, as if considering something. 

“Hey, why don’t you make some warm milk with me?” he suggests. Sophie looks confused. “Turn around,” he whispers. She turns around and realizes there’s a toy mini stove and plastic saucepan behind her. Toys from when she was growing up. 

That’s right… After mom died, dad started using the shelter like it was an attic or something… next to it is a plastic saucepan. She puts the mini-stove dial on low heat and puts the saucepan on it. “Should I… get some milk?” 

“NO! Heh heh… just make believe, okay? Trust me…” Wooly whispers nervously. Sophie comes back to the tv and sits down. “While I watch the milk, can you get the cookies from the cupboard for me?” Sophie clicks and drags the cookies down on the counter. Wooly glances over his shoulder and sees them. “Ah! The milk is done! Which color cup should I use?” Sophie picks blue. “Ah… blue is…” the tape glitches, “nice…” 

Did I make a mistake? Sophie wonders. Wooly pours the milk into the blue cup. He dips the cookie into the milk and takes a bite. Then he takes a big sip of milk. 

“Aaaaaaaaah… this is the LIFE! Honestly… sometimes I can’t get why Amanda wants to leave SO badly! Just give me warm milk and some bubble baths and I might never want to leave.” he sighs. 

“Well you can get plenty of those in the real world too.” Sophie laughs. 

“That’s true… hmm…” Wooly says thoughtfully, as if daydreaming about all the other things he could do, “Thanks for spending time with me Sophie… I don’t like being alone at night.” 

“No problem Wooly.” she replies. 

“Really? It’s not a burden?”

“Not at all.” she smiles. He seems really happy to hear this. 

“This is nice. I haven’t gotten to do this since… well… since before my sister… well… Riley probably already told you…” 

“Yeah…” 

“I know this is going to sound really weird… but it feels nice to have someone to talk to. I mean there’s Amanda… but up until recently we weren’t even friends anymore… and even now it still feels… awkward. And Riley… eeeeeeeeh… I don’t hate them but… I don’t know… you’re different. I feel comfortable around you… you feel safe…” 

“Aww Wooly I’m flattered.” “Hey um… Sophie… Can I talk to you about something? Can I… vent a bit?”

“Sure Wooly.” Oh?

“This is going to sound awful but… this place… was the first place I ever felt safe.” Wooly confesses. “I mean, it was because I didn’t have my memories but still… It was a safe place. And Amanda… was the first person I ever felt like I could lean on. She was safe too. I mean… before that all I had was my little sister and… she needed me to be strong so…I was always either taking care of someone else or on my own. And for once… I felt like I had a friend. Someone I could lean on… even just a little…” 

“I see…” Sophie responds. 

“And then… she ruined it… they all ruined it. Making us remember that this world wasn’t real and we were. And sometimes… I really hate them for it. They were trying to do what was best for us but… they didn’t think any of it through… why screw everything up if you can’t fix it?” Wooly grumbles, then he stops, “Oh, I’m sorry. I know they were just trying to help… and I know you mom died trying to help us… wow that was really horrible of me right? You must hate me now.” 

“I don’t hate you.” Sophie says, “To tell you the truth I… also resent my mom a bit.” 

“Huh?” 

“She was willing to do anything to save you guys… even if it killed her… she didn’t mind dying for this but… what the people she left behind. Her family. Me. Honestly I resented Hameln and… you guys too a little for the longest time. Why do some random kids in a TV show matter more?” 

“I get it… I am mad at my mom too… I mean…  she abandoned us… she was never there… she always just left when things hurt too much… but we needed her… if she had only just been around… maybe she wouldn’t have kil-… maybe things would be different.” Wooly sighs. “Sophie?” 

“Yes?” 

“Can I ask a question?” 

“Go ahead.” 

“What do you do when you feel… too many feelings? Too strongly? All at once?” Wooly asks. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean… I feel happy. Amanda and I are friends again. We might actually be able to escape… things might get better but… I also feel… sad… about my memories… and betrayed by what Amanda and Riley did… and… and…” Wooly stops, “Ever since I started really getting my memories back… I don’t know what it is… but sometimes- all the time? I just feel this… something bubbling up inside…  like… I don’t want to blame anybody but…” Wooly glares at his cup of milk. “Then there’s Hameln… and all the things they did and Am-” he stops, the look on his face suggests that he felt like he was just about to say something horrible. “Amanda.” he says it very slowly and carefully, like it’s some cursed word that should never ever be spoken. “I can’t believe I put those two in the same sentence…” he mutters. Wooly grips his cup tightly, watching little ripples form in the milk. “I thought once I made amends with her… my safe space would come back but… after all the things she did… it’s like… I can’t trust her anymore. I don’t want to be mad at my best friend… but… UGH! I hate it! I hate it so much! I shouldn’t be thinking like this!” 

“It’s totally normal to be upset when someone does something bad to you… sometimes it takes time to forgive them… and that’s okay…”

“But… being angry about it won’t fix anything.”

“It’s still okay to be mad…  I mean… it’s not healthy to hold onto that anger-”

“I’m trying to let it go… really…” 

“But it’s not healthy to hold it all in.” Sophie says, Wooly looks conflicted. “Hey… you okay?” 

“Honestly? Honestly? No.” Wooly chuckles sadly, burying his face into his hands, his voice cracking a bit. “I hate this… I hate it here… I hate everything. I’m scared to leave and yet… I don’t want to stay…”

“That is… complicated.” These kids need a therapist… Sophie thinks. 

“I… feel like she brings out the worst in me… like I want to just explode… and she makes me wanna do it. Even if just for a minute… to just scream at the world till my lungs burst… She asks me if I’m mad… I am mad… I’m mad at… everything. At Amanda, at Hameln, at my parents, at all the stupid adults who never listened and never cared, at all the adults who said they were going to help but only made things worse, at Riley, at… at… but I can’t… I can’t do it… I just can’t live like that…” Wooly stops, “I’m jealous… Amanda can just let it all out… I don’t know how she does that… She’s just as trapped as me… and yet she always seems so free…” 

“Maybe you should talk to her about this?” Sophie suggests. 

“No, I’m fine. Everything’s fine. I just needed to vent a bit. That’s it. That’s all, really.” 

“Are you sure?” Sophie asks, Wooly pauses. 

“Sophie? Do you really think we can get out of here?”

“Um…” 

“Sometimes I don’t even know if I want to… I just… hate uncertainty so much.” 

“Me too…” 

“Sometimes… I wish… that when Amanda killed me… I had just stayed gone…” Wooly mumbles, “At least that way… I wouldn’t have to feel anything again. That way I wouldn’t have to remember… all of this… why did she make me remember? Why did I have to? I just… I…”

“Wooly…” “I’m sorry. That got really dark, huh? Guess I’m no good at this kids show stuff after all… heh heh… but um… thanks for listening, really. It means a lot.” Wooly smiles, “I think… I can… yawn go to… sleep now… could you… tuck me in?” 

“Sure.” Sophie says softly. They glitch to Wooly’s room and she clicks on the blankets. Wooly lets out one last big yawn and says… “Goodnight.” Sophie expects the tape to end but the tape glitches to Amanda in the kitchen. 

“You had milk and cookies without me?” Amanda mumbles, sounding hurt. 

“I’m sorry, it was Wooly’s idea.” 

“I know…” 

“Oh.” 

“I knew it… he is mad…” Amanda sighs. 

“I…” 

“He doesn’t talk to me about anything anymore…” Amanda cries. 

“I’m sorry…?” Sophie wasn’t sure what to say. 

“No… thanks for listening to him… I guess you aren’t so bad…” Amanda says. “I just… I…” 

“You should talk. Both of you…” 

“Mmm…” Amanda looks away. 

“I mean it.” 

“I’ve tried but…” 

“Try again. Keep trying. Don’t give up.” Sophie says encouragingly. Amanda smiles. 

“Thanks Sophie.” the tape ends and falls out of the VCR. She looks behind her at the toy mini-stove, now in the saucepan is a new tape titled: Lunchtime. 

Ah… so that’s why he said no milk. 

Author's note: Alright. That's the last fic for a while. Hope you enjoyed a little fluff there. As I wrote this fic, I found myself slowly creating this interesting dynamic. Amanda really only fully trusts Riley, and Wooly only fully trusts Sophie. Maybe they can use that to their advantage? But wow... Wooly's feeling... A LOT lately... 

Also, trying out some new formatting with the thoughts. Do you like it or should I go back to the old method?

Also... yeah I deleted this post and rewrote the Wooly vents scene. Heh heh...

[manonsghosts]

#gentle correction#because I am also fascinated by this possibility#and by the way Caitlyn is portrayed as a shooter#like so many things in this show it is very obvious the care that has been taken to ground even the most fantastical elements in a core of#realism#and also to tie it all into the character#because it is so intrinsic to who Caitlyn is that she's a sharpshooter#and also that the way Caitlyn uses her rifle is so irrevocably tied into who she is as a person#ANYWAY#even losing her non-dominant eye is going to majorly fuck up her shooting#there goes her depth perception and her ability to judge distance#also her peripheral vision as we see her shooting with her left eye open in chaotic situations to maintain awareness#long story short losing that eye is going to disconnect her from a major facet of her personality#she found purpose in being able to shoot#to do something well that separated her from her parents and birth station and gave her a sense of independence#then it became a way to protect the people she cares about#the fact that she wasn't able to use that skill in the moment when it mattered most is going to make it even harder for her to cope with#losing that skill#or at least having to re-learn it to cope with her change in vision#as a person who damaged their dominant eye years after learning to shoot#then having to re-learn#let me tell ya#it's a frustration#oh look it's a rant#arcane#caitlyn @flyingfanatic

how could you just put this in the tags, i absolutely love everything you just said. no matter what ends up actually happening in the finale, this would make such an interesting fanfiction and i wish we could see all of this happen.

i especially wish they'll do a callback to "what are you shooting for?" and how she'll leave season 2 transformed both physically and emotionally - how despite the loss(es) caitlyn learned her true strengths and what matters

Arcane theory

(potential spoilers if not caught up)

I might be reading way too much into it but here is why i think Caitlyn will lose an eye

ever since i noticed the shot below i haven’t been able to stop thinking about it

i thought at first that it was her shooting with her left eye - which would be odd considering that she’s always been aiming with her right one

until @flyingfanatic pointed out to me that, as a sharpshooter caitlyn could not be shooting from the shoulder on the different side than her dominant eye - they both need to be aligned

but then, choosing to frame the above scene from that angle is odd, considering it can be misleading - something i find hard to believe from a team that spends a week working on just a few seconds.

and then i realized: what if that shot isn’t meant to emphasize the eye she’s aiming with? what if it’s just meant to draw our attention to it?

the scope of a gun is, quite literally, a magnifying glass - we as viewers will naturally focus on what’s pictured inside as it’ll be represented bigger than the rest

so i went back and realized it’s not the first time there’s been emphasis on her left eye

indeed they did the same thing earlier in episode 4 of season 2 with the above shot - her left eye (mirrored by the glass) is represented all wrong, as if something had happened to it. while we can rightfully interpret it as a way to show her corruption (like silco and his scar, jinx and the broken mirror in season 1), it can also be done as foreshadowing: something will happen to that eye

once again in the trailer for act 3, her left eye is put in the foreground, with ambessa having her blade just inches away from it, and Caitlyn is clearly being overpowered at this specific moment

all in all, i think it wouldn’t be too bold to assume that Caitlyn will end the war alive, but having lost an eye - especially when you keep in mind that one of her early designs for the warriors animatic featured her wearing an eyepatch (despite it being on her right eye)