#just thinking abt him and his loneliness rn | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

soleilnomoon · 2 years ago

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Hi again! Still absolutely adore your Kid fic from your last event 💜 Never got around to asking for a Sanji one, so here I am again😅 But seriously, congrats on over 550 followers!! Love seeing your blog grow, cause you’re really talented and deserve them all and legit can’t wait til you hit 1k+ 🥰

For the event order, may I please ask for a #1 with my boi Sanji, with anmitsu, konpeito, and keylime pie and with honey, please? 🥹 i hate this but need some sanji angst 😭

I also dunno if these three would work particularly well together for a prompt, so you can choose whatever! just really feeling angst and sanji rn and maybe comfort if you’d like 🥰

Thank you for all your works you’ve done so far 💜💜

hiiii omg haha i loved that fic fr (i'm obsessed w that man!!!) also ily for requesting sanji i don't write him nearly enough 🥰️ but thank you sm!! 😭 making me all soft and i am so so sorry this took forever, as u know i am so slow but!!! i had fun tormenting sanji w the angst ngl 💓💓💓💓 also those were great choices for the prompt, i wanted to write more but it would've been 8k words before i finished and who has time for that (i do, but listen... that's besides the point) ✨

2k words, fem reader (honestly gn too now that i think abt it), sfw (SHOCKING i know), 18+ mdni, a lil bit suggestive but nothing wild, angst angst angst city babey, fluff if you squint, also i gave u comfort bc u deserve it bb 💗(and sanji does too); feat. sanji being in denial forever and ever, mutual pining, fake unrequited love, reader is determined and sanji is a coward; also i made myself sad writing this but a good sad bc sanji deserves happiness and i'll fight oda if he doesn't get it i s2g... (if u see grammar mistakes/spelling errors... no u didn't 💗)

“loving each other began this way: threading / loneliness into loneliness / patiently, our hands trembling and precise.” — yehuda amichai

STEP 01:

what does it take to kill a soul? —

a question that’s posed unironically, without a hint of remorse or tact, the words precise and venomous, slicing through the thick veneer that he’s carefully crafted. he’s never been able to answer that question — not at six years old, not twelve or fifteen, and not at twenty-one. his siblings took pleasure in taunting him with seemingly philosophical questions, ones that clamped down onto his thoughts with heavy shackles.

even after he’s extracted himself from that life, he can’t scrub those memories from his mind — no matter how hard he tries. they sit, still raw and bloody, giving rise to unpleasant emotions that make his stomach churn from so many things left unsaid. he never set out to be a pirate, but piracy has given him the sort of freedom that he could only wish for as a child.

it’s with tender hands, with nimble yet graceful fingers, and with a fastidiousness that puts him in a category of his own, that he creates and creates and creates —

he’s told he’s an artist, which only pushes him to work harder, to be better. and when he asks himself why, he doesn’t have an answer. or, rather, the answer he does have only serves as a punishing reminder that he’ll never be good enough. no matter how many times his crew mates thank him — their emphatic, genuine praise a soft, warm breeze against his heart, gentle caresses that he commits to memory — despair still manages to infiltrate, a darkness choking out what little light he has left inside of him.

STEP 02:

how far are you willing to go to reach the truth? —

when you join the crew, he’s unnerved by your presence, which is wholly unlike him. usually, he’s able to put on his façade of the flirtatious cook, one that’s jovial and sociable, that lives to serve and please those around him. his first conversation with you ends in disaster; he spills the drink he tried to pour for you, despite your insistence that you are perfectly capable of pouring your own drink — and he knows it’s not out of malice, but it cuts into him all the same.

he tries again and again, bringing you little treats that you only agree to eating if he sits and eats with you; confusion eats away at his mind, and when he opens his mouth to decline, you pat the seat next to you and he acquiesces. he sits stiffly, at first, unsure of why he always feels on edge around you — an irritating need to impress you in a way he’s never wanted to for others grows stronger by the day.

you think it’s cute that he always seems flustered around you — that he stumbles over his words, refuses to hold eye contact with you for longer than thirty seconds — you also think it’s cute that the false bravado that he puts on for the world, diminishes immediately the second you come close to him. if he’s skittish, it’s because you always catch him staring at you; despite his quick reflexes, his reactions around you are slow but pure — childish, almost.

lately he’s clumsier and scatterbrained, nearly burning dinner when you decide to keep him company. you lean against the countertop, a teasing smile on your face — the same one that that caused him to bump his forehead against the cabinet door earlier — as you prattle on about a dream you had. he can barely keep up, his eyes drifting from the skillet to your face, gliding around the curve of your cheek, dipping lower in a slow descent along your neck.

he blinks repeatedly when he reaches your clavicle, stunned at his restraint; and it’s only when you call his name loudly that he realizes he’s left the heat on for too long.

“are you okay?” you ask when you see that he’s fussing over how best to save the dish, mouth moving as he quietly mutters to himself. he barely registers your voice, as an insidious one whispers harshly into his ears about his perpetual incompetence and lack of talent.

you can see that he’s retreated even further into his mind, a feat that also leaves you frustrated. you want to shake him but refrain and grab his hand instead. he snaps out of whatever stupor that held him captive just moments ago, lips parting as he sighs softly before glancing down at you.

“thank you.”

the words are quiet, but impactful, as he didn’t think he’d be able to get them out. you let go of his hand too soon, but he doesn’t say anything else, choosing to focus on cooking than embarrassing himself again in front of you.

you take his silence as a silent dismissal, but you don’t fight him on it — it’s bitter, that sort of rejection, and you swallow back your argument with great difficulty.

STEP 03:

what’s the difference between cowardice and self-preservation? —

frustration bubbles underneath his skin when he can’t find where he placed his lighter; he runs a hand through his hair and tugs on impulse, accidentally ripping a few strands from his scalp. they swirl and tumble onto the ground, pathetic in a way — just like me, but he never really says that out loud. he doesn’t hear your footsteps, although you did your best to remain as quiet as possible.

a cigarette sits in between his lips, and he has half a mind to toss it over the railing of the ship, but a warmth suddenly appears in front of him in the form of a flame. you found his lighter on the floor earlier and meant to give it to him, but every time you got closer, he found every excuse to leave. you don’t realize the impact you have on him — not really, anyway — because he’s genuinely surprised that you can’t hear the heavy beats of his heart that grow more intolerable the longer he hangs around you.

always afraid of being found out, he opts to keep his distance. it’s easier this way, he tells himself, better. but he doesn’t quite believe that; the evidence is plain as day when his tongue feels like its grown three sizes in the span of seconds, where his words get lost and forgotten. it’s all your fault, he reasons; you who insists on talking candidly with him, who insists on listening to him ramble about his dreams, who absolutely insists on stubbornly tearing down his walls, steadily chipping away without a care in the world. he looks at you as if you are the source of all his problems, but he also looks at you as if you’re the solution.

the intensity behind his stare makes your hands tremble slightly, it’s a miracle you’ve managed to keep yourself composed for this long. you light the end of his cigarette with ease, as if you’ve done this for him hundreds of times —and place the lighter into his pants pocket afterwards. if he wasn’t so used to you getting in his personal space all the time, he’d retreat immediately. the proximity is almost too much for him, but he doesn’t step back; you take that as a good sign and keep him company for a few minutes.

you don’t care for the smell of smoke, but on him it smells good. you almost tell him that, but instead bite down on your lip and keep your comment at bay, nerves getting the best of you as you nearly choke on the possibility that your feelings won’t be reciprocated.

another time, maybe. cheeks flushed, you turn your face to look elsewhere. although, you wonder if there ever will be another time. with him, you never know.

he’s still trying to figure you out and why he feels a different sort of calm around you; it’s alarming and new, drumming up an irrational fear within him. he doesn’t think he’s deserving of your attention or affection, and he’s convinced himself that you don’t harbor any romantic feelings for him. and why would you?

one by one, his thoughts pummel into him, acerbic and overwhelming. he exhales a sliver of smoke and puts the cigarette out. he gives you a quick, apologetic look before telling you goodnight, the smile on his face is melancholic and barely existent. you don’t dare say a word, keep your lips pressed together stubbornly; exasperated and dejected, you don’t know what’s worse — his inability to lower his guard around you for longer than ten minutes, or your inability to stop yourself from trying to carve pieces of yourself to give to him.

maybe if you helped him fill the gaping holes in his heart, he’d truly understand how you feel.

STEP 04:

if you had to do it all over again, would you do anything differently? —

sleep evades you after that night, and the night after that, and so forth; it gets so bad that you’re yawning in the middle of the day, falling asleep before you can have a cup of coffee or tea. this does not go unnoticed by the others, and after talking with nami, you feel less out of your element and finally can see the parts of sanji that he wants to keep hidden. her advice is simple: approach slowly and with intent; corner him and don’t let him escape.

you bide your time, full confident that you can find a moment to sit down with him and talk this all out. it doesn’t come easy, but franky mysteriously swaps sanji for the night’s watch — something that should strike you as odd, but it’s a small opening that you take without thinking as you hurriedly climb up to the crow’s nest with a renewed sort of energy.

even with his eyes closed, as he sits lazily on the bench with head tilted back against the wall, he knows it’s you.

“go back to bed,” he says firmly, refusing to look at you.

your stubbornness, unfortunately, wins out. “i’m staying.” at that he sits up, his attention completely on you as his eyes widen at your words. he wants to ask you why, but cowardice wins out — again. as his features soften, a flush crawls along his face, lightly painting his cheeks pink. he closes his eyes again, tries to steady his breathing as he counts backwards, only for his efforts to be obliterated with ease the moment you sit next to him.

as your thigh presses against his, you take his hand and on impulse you trace your fingertip along the lines on his palm. he watches you with a morbid fascination that scares him; but then you start to say things like, “you will live a very long life,” and “you are courageous, and you have a big heart.”

a small part of him wants to pull his hand away, so you won’t say anything else — but he remains put, so still that you almost think he’s stopped breathing. your voice is sweet and disarming, even when you carry on this charade of reading his palm. a belated realization hits him forcefully, making him blink several times; it dawns on him that you’ve always been so kind and gentle with him, even when you teased him. he’s spent all this time overthinking and hiding behind his past, that it never occurred to him that he could have simply let you in. you’ve never given him reason to believe that you’d betray or harm him intentionally.

he takes a deep breath, voice a little uneven, “i—”

you lean in close, adoration dripping onto your words as you interrupt him. “hey, have i told you?” the question glides along his skin, the words seeping into him as you continue, the lilt in your voice a honeyed, melodic spell. “you remind me of starlight and the mysteries of space.” your lips brush against his when you tell him that, and a warmth settles into the middle of his chest, makes it hard to focus. he doesn’t think when he curls his fingers around yours and doesn’t think when heleans down to kiss you — tender yet electrifying all the same.

the move disarms you in a way that doesn’t quite make sense to you, so you simply hum in approval and lean your head against his shoulder. a comfortable silence settles around you both, but you don’t mind that at all; it’s nice, not having to tip-toe around him anymore, and the demons that plagued him for so long don’t seem so intimidating with you by his side.

#fic request #milestone event #500+ followers event #🍭✨🍨sticky & sweet event🧁✨🍭#one piece angst #one piece fluff #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x y/n #sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #sanji angst #sanji fluff #i love sanji a normal amt as u can tell

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uriekukistan · 7 months ago

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Hi rin how about 🥑 🍄 ❄️ and 🦴 for the ask? I hope you've been having a nice day :)

hiii winnie hope youre doing well :D thank u for the ask !!

🥑 ⇢ you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help?

definitely @melloneah if anything they can help me flee the country, if not, we can have a good laugh abt it before i go to jail 😭😭😭

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

did itafushi here, so i'll do inuokko now :))

inumaki's cursed speech doesnt apply to writing until gege tells me otherwise (like its cursed SPEECH...idk i've seen ppl disagree tho), so he's a big note-writer when it comes to showing his affection. when yuuta's in africa, they text of course, but toge still sends long hand-written love letters from time to time. its the kind of thing where he sits down every night before bed and writes a little bit, and sends a whole weeks worth of brain dump at once. anything from thoughts/feelings he had that only yuuta could understand, or how much he misses him, just...anything.

another thing is i think that loneliness would be a big bonding point for them. they've both always been isolated from others bc of a power they couldn't control, but also i feel like it makes it hard for them to fully open up to each other at first. once they do tho....

❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?

oohh okay im not sure what my dream fic would be other than the one im working on rn (bassist megumi learns about love), im just so . for once i actually like my own writing............

but if i like. suddenly became incapacitated and couldnt finish it, i would feel comfortable handing the idea to @jujutsushiboat bc i love the way they write their angst fics and i need someone who can do angst well. and also bc i read their most recent fic and it had a pretty similar vibe to one i wrote on the same day TT_TT so i feel like we're on the same wavelength sometimes

if not them, then cityboys, but they havent written itafushi since 2021 claws at the walls

🦴 ⇢ is there a piece of media that inspires your writing?

typically im most inspired by music. most recently, i was inspired by i'm your man by mitski. aforementioned fic that was similar etc. you can read it later when i wake up and post it :D

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1rabong · 2 years ago

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hellow!!! what first got you into borosai? whats ur favourite thing abt the ship, and any headcanons thats rotating in ur brain rn?

Thank you for the ask so much you have no idea how much i wanna ramble abt these two

Well, there’s one specific scene for the first question.

THIS SHOT

Look at his cute lil face he’s so happy

I saw this and was like, wait. This alien’s kinda.. hot. And he was making these adorable faces all cuz he was fighting Saitama. Then he dies, after making Saitama use the serious punch for the first time in the story.

They were really something. So naturally i started shipping them. And I naturally went to ao3 to look up borosai and despaired cuz there was only like 40 fics for them at the time. But still, I read them all(and they were all great), and started drawing art for them. Back then, I had no idea that I’d be fixating on them for so long, longer than anything i had a fixation for😂

My favorite thing about this ship is that they’re so different. Almost everything about them is so comically different. Just look at these two.

Just them standing next to each other is visual comedy at its finest.

They have different moralities, personalities, styles, amounts of hair, etc.

Which makes their similarities all the more interesting. They’re both bored to death, because they’re too strong. They both crave that stimulation of being in a fight with their lives at stake. They both feel lonely, because no one understands what it’s like to have this kind of strength. This loneliness is shown more in depth with Saitama, but I think it’s the same with Boros too. When we’re first shown Boros, he’s all stoic and cold with his subordinates, his expression barely changing. But when he meets Saitama, it morphs into excitement. Then as the fight goes on, it turns into an almost childish glee, making him ramble on about his strength, his home planet, until Saitama snaps at him to stfu😂 But who can blame him? After so many years of solitude he finally meets someone who’s on the same page as him.

With their fight, Boros gets what he wanted. The fight he was craving so much. A fight telling him that there’s still something that can surprise him in this Universe. That he wasn’t alone. Which is why even as he was shocked that he had lost, he doesn’t feel angry or bitter about it. Rather, it almost seems like he feels pity for Saitama. Because surely there’s no chance for him to meet someone who is as strong as him. So he calls out Saitama’s name, as his last words, and dies.

All the above is more or less canon, but if we were to veer a bit off course into an au where Boros lived, there’s so much potential for an interesting relationship between them. Imagine the possibilities. He could be like a stronger version of Sonic, challenging Saitama week after week, always getting his ass kicked but coming back for more, a little stronger than last time. And hey, since this is a Borosai au, they could very well fall in love😆

This turned out to be longer than I expected and not exactly on topic but look, I can’t help myself.

The current hc that’s rotating in my brain rn is that they’re madly in love, and is married. And have a child😂

Okay i know this sounds absolutely bonkers but I’ve been hardcore shipping them for too long and them being in a relationship is like a default setting for me when I think about them, so giving them a kid to take care of on top of all that just came naturally. Imagine the utter chaos it would ensue. It’d be peak comedy.

This lil guy. His name is Daan. I love him so much.

Anyways that’s all the questions answered, thank you again for the ask🥳

#opm #one punch man #saitama #boros #lord boros #borosai #saiboros #ask

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petrichor-idyllic · 2 years ago

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hihi ^^

so i have another request but for spiderman (mcu) where it takes place post no way home, basically fem!reader doesnt end up losing her memory abt peter and she's always been by his side even after everything. But peter thought she would just lose her memory as well so when she finds him one day he gets shocked and emotional and the whole thing's js fluffy, comfort with some hurt/angst

i dont mean to rush or anything cuz u prolly have other reqs😭 but i js came up with this rn and wanted to drop it to u <33

Oh my god, a request not for the Maze Runner??? My time has come. I'm joking, I love writing for TMR, but there is a range of universes I write for on my masterlist and I'm actually thinking of updating it, so keep an eye out :))

LONG TIME COMING

MASTERLIST | PETER PARKER MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: See above. Takes place after the events of No Way Home.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, teenage angst and loneliness, sad times.

You'd known Peter Parker your whole life.

You went to the same pre-school, kindergarten, middle school and high school together. You were connected at the hip for life, even when Ned joined in with your little group.

When you and Ned accidentally found out that Peter is Spiderman, neither of you knew how to react or what to do. But, over time, you all got used to it.

Ned used to always tease you because he thought you had a crush on Peter. You always brushed him off and told him he was dumb, until Peter started to crush on MJ. You weren't even bothered when he liked Liz, but that was different.

MJ was like you guys. A loser and a nerd who was smart and sarcastic, and she was gorgeous. Peter loved her, and when they started dating after MJ figured out he was Spiderman, you didn't have a chance.

Then Mysterio leaked Peter's face and he was desperate to change that. Seeking out Doctor Strange and accidentally causing a tear in the Multiverse.

You met his other universe counterparts, and enemies, and everything changed after that.

Peter vanished.

Your best friend for your whole life had disappeared.

But the weird thing was no one seemed to care. No one even remembered him.

MJ, Ned, everyone you went to school with- nothing.

You asked MJ day in, day out, you spoke to Ned about him all the time. But they just thought you were losing your mind or that this boy was someone you'd met and had mistakenly thought you'd introduced.

But you knew Peter. You heard the spell Docter Strange had cast- but you remembered him. Somehow, his spell left you unaffected.

Maybe it was a strange override- you'd known him your whole life, so without Peter, you'd have no memories left. And that would definitely be suspicious. Or maybe it was how close the two of you were, some unspoken rule that you can't forget the one you love most.

Peter was your entire life- he is your entire life.

And now he's gone.

But if Peter taught you anything, it's that you can't give up. He's got to be somewhere in the city, and you're going to keep looking, no matter how big New York may be.

"You're going out again?" You mother stands in the doorway of the living room of your small apartment. You've been fighting with your shoes for the last couple of minutes, accidentally waking her up. "It's very early."

"I have to, Mom, I can't waste any time-"

"I know, I know," she sighs. Your mother is your biggest supporter, but even she is doubtful. "This... boy, your friend that no one remembers- an Avenger, a superhero. You have to find him, but... but, sweetheart, are you sure that-?"

"Yes, I'm sure- no, I'm not losing my mind, even if everyone thinks I am. I'm going to find him, if it's the last thing I do." You put your foot down, standing with your arms crossed.

Your mother sighs. "Okay- but at least wear a coat; it's horrendous out there."

You give her a sheepish smile, then a nod. Grabbing your coat off of the hook in front of your door, you pull it over your shoulders. You open the door, slamming it behind you and taking to the streets, once again.

Darkness still consumes the rougher area you live in, sunlight just starting to peek over the buildings. Your mother was right; the rain beats down on the stone streets, sending a chill through you as it sinks in through your jeans- your coat keeps your upper body dry, though.

You prefer the mornings. It's still quiet, the only people about are coming home from night shifts or having to make early commutes to work. On your days off from work, this is how you spend your time. Walking the streets every chance you can get. Every chance you've had for the last few months.

The only hint you got was when a strange boy came into MJ's work. You just knew it had to be Peter, but you were too busy covering a shift to be there.

As the shops start to open, businesses coming into full swing, the creeping thought that this might be another day wasted starts to take over. You're starting to think you're never going to see him again.

You should've said something. Before him and MJ started dating, you should've realised your feelings sooner and told him how much he meant to you- maybe then he would have come looking for you as well.

You stand outside a corner shop, taking the moment to check your phone. MJ has sent a picture of the view from MIT with Ned in it. You smile. Your friends went to college and whilst you stay in touch, you chose to start working after school to help your mother instead.

And to stay and look for Peter.

"Oh! I'm sorry, Miss," the voice strikes you as you look up. You blink repeatedly like you're imagining it.

Peter stands, having just come out of the shop, a bag of groceries in his hands as he talks to a woman he's just bumped into by mistake. You'd think his Spider Sense would make him less clumsy.

They have a brief interaction, before she slips past him and into the store. And he, of course, holds the door open for her.

"Peter," your voice barely comes out as a croak, watching him adjust his bag to carry it easier. "Peter!" You scream.

He freezes, looking up and meeting your eye as you stand in the pouring rain.

It's him. You can't believe it's him.

"(Y/N)?" He stands in some form of disbelief, completely unable to process that you just said his name.

"Peter!" You move forward, jogging towards him. You throw your arms around him, making him stumble backwards as he stiffens for a second.

In a heartbeat, his shopping scatters to the floor, his strong arms encasing you, pulling you in closer.

"(Y/N), oh my God," he mumbles into your damp hair. He pulls away, his hands on your shoulders as tears threaten to fall from your eyes. "How..? I don't understand- you remember me?"

You nod, frantically. "Of course, I do."

"But... how? How is that possible?"

"I-I don't know," you shake your head, your emotions finally caving as tears roll down your cheeks.

He pulls you back into a hug, clinging onto you like he never has before.

"Why didn't you come and find me?" You sob into his shoulder. "You spoke to MJ and Ned, I know you did." You sniff. "Why didn't you find me?"

"I-I couldn't... it's hard to explain," he sighs, pulling away again. "How about we talk about it somewhere dry, hm? I've got a place not too far away."

You give a stiff nod after a moment's hesitation. "Okay."

Peter's place is somehow worse than yours. It's a shitty one room apartment with a bed, a desk and a kitchen in the same vicinity.

"Nice place," you attempt to joke to break the awkward tension from the mainly silent walk here.

He scoffs in response. "It's not much... but, yanno, it'll do." He takes his jacket it off, hanging it up. "Here, give me your coat." You obey, taking it off and handing it to him for him to do the same.

He sits on the end of his bed. "Guess I better explain why I've not found you, huh?"

"I mean, it'd be appreciated." You rock on your heels, staying where you're stood instead of joining his side.

"I just... I couldn't..." He lets out a deep sigh. "When I saw MJ and Ned in the café, I was almost relieved you weren't there. Standing there and watching them have no idea who I was... hurt. It hurt so much. But it would've been so much worse if you were there. I couldn't bare the thought of looking at you and you not knowing who I was. Looking at me like I'm a complete stranger- I could handle MJ and Ned," he pauses, looking at you as you step closer.

Standing in front of him, he reaches for your hands, taking them in his and playing with the old ring he gave you as a birthday gift. He smiles slightly, the fact you still wear it warming him.

"But, I couldn't handle it with you." He looks up. "I couldn't do it. I couldn't face you as a stranger. My (Y/N) looking at me like I don't know anything -everything- about her?" He shakes his head, pushing his lips into a thin line. "I just... couldn't."

"I remember you. You should've."

He snorts. "Yeah, well, I know that now, don't I? You found me instead. Guess you've learnt something from me."

"Not really," you scoff. "I looked for you. Everyday for months since you vanished. I felt crazy- everyone thinks I'm losing my mind. But I knew I wasn't; I had to find you."

"I can't believe the spell didn't work on you," he chuckles lightly, and you grin, laughing too,in disbelief more than anything.

"Must be special," you joke, giving him a mischievous grin.

He rolls his eyes. "Yeah, I coulda told ya that."

Your face suddenly becomes serious. All of your feelings for Peter flooding back in the damn breaks. It's rolling over in your mind. You swore you would tell him how you felt when you found him, that you should've done it earlier.

But now, him sitting in front of you, still playing with your fingers like they're a fidget toy, you don't know if you can.

"Hey," his voice is soft, easily able to see the internal anguish you're facing. "I know that face," he nudges you, letting his hands fall to his sides. "What's wrong?"

You shake your head, taking in a deep breath. "You know, when I lost you, I thought over and over what I'd say when I found you again. And..." You trail off.

"And what? You can tell me anything, that hasn't changed."

"I know," you huff, "and I know that you're probably still in love with MJ, and I get that but... screw it, I have to tell you. I like you. More than just a friend, and it shouldn't have taken you getting a girlfriend and vanishing off of the face of the Earth for me to realise."

You look at him, in the eyes, his expression is blank but you keep going.

"I love you, Peter Parker. And I think I always have."

"You... love me?"

"You don't have to love me back. I get it, but I just had to tell you just in case I don't get another chance and lose you again."

He laughs.

Like, he actually laughs at you, making you feel even more insecure.

"What? Why are you..? Okay, it's not that funny, asshole."

"I'm not.." He grins, leaning forward before standing up, making you step back. "I've had a crush on you since we were five. I've wanted you for as long as I can remember, but I figured you didn't feel the same- I mean, you didn't act like you did. So, I tried pushing it down, dating other girls. A-and MJ meant a lot to me, but there's a reason you were the person I couldn't face."

His hand comes to your face, cupping your cheek and lifting your head to look more at him. "It's just funny because I... well, I have always loved you- and I think I probably always will."

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, heat flushing your body as you step closer to him. Your noses brush, glancing at his lips before he fully leans in.

Your lips connect. Your hands pull on his damp shirt, his coming to your waist. You want to kiss him forever, feel him every chance you get. The heat quickly becomes more heated, the loneliness he felt washing away and the anxiety you had vanishing.

He's here.

And he's yours.

You're interrupted when your ringtone goes off.

"Sorry," you mumble as you pull away, pulling your phone out of your pocket and reading the name flashing up on your screen. "Shit, it's my Mom. Do you mind..?"

"No," he clears his throat, stepping back "'course not.

You pick up. "(Y/N)? Where are you? I've been texting you non-stop. You know I get worried when you-"

"Mom," you cut her off and she stops talking as a beat skips.

"...You found him, didn't you?" Her voice is almost happy for you, relief audibly filling her.

Yooo, this was actually very fun to write and I very much enjoyed writing for the mcu for a change.

"Yeah," you squeak, emotions once again getting the best of you, "I found him."

I have a fair few requests in atm so new requests may take a while for me to get to, but I will try to get through them ASAP.

I know most of you follow me for TMR content, but I hope you enjoyed something a bit different :))

#🌿 petri writes #🌿 petri writes mcu #🌿 petri mcu peter parker #🍃 petri mcu #peter parker #spiderman #mcu imagine #marvel mcu #x reader #mcu x reader

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checkadii · 10 months ago

Note

Holy shit, hi, I wanted to say thank you so much for your tags on your reblog of my fic 💙 I so appreciate it and you're too kind! I was a little nervous at times about the way I was characterizing Vash, so I'm really glad to hear it worked for you! Fics like this can be so hard to get eyes on so I really appreciate you taking the time to reblog and say what you thought!

GRABBING YOU BY THE SHOULDERS for a one shot the way you characterized him said a LOT . To me at least. It might be the hot weather getting to me idk . Characterization is such a doozy though I agree

THERES SOOO many aspects of Vash’s character that I’m so like. Picky abt when it comes to fanfics, I have about a dozen and some tabs opened on chrome rn that I scroll through every day,,, Usually he’s written as whiny, near childish, stubborn, generally babied, etc and that’s canon (to an EXTENT) but holy crap . He’s also angry, pent up and repressive, he’s frustrated, he’s living for an ideal that someone who left him long ago had, what does he have aside from that like ghfjnghn. He was the one who lashed out first in both 98 and trimax, and even if that’s tamer and more restrained, faint and maybe not with the fire it once had now and he’s mournful if anything,, he lost so much, and everything that was lost was meaningful to him,, for something nigh immortal (if he doesn’t drop dead like. 280 or smth idk) with so much time it fucking sucks to know that others close don’t have a fraction of it

the impact he had on the people around him even if he doesn’t know it, the impact the people has on him over the course of centuries,,, the way he felt unsure wether the right to be called uncle was his,,, but times changed. things changed

Another thing is that god. Yea. He would have vague knowledge of LR from wolfwood, and no matter the influence of that he’s still going to be wary I feel like. He should be. Hide it idc but there’s going to be some level of conflicted emotions towards him ghjngmnnnh .

AND MILLY!!! THAT WAS REALLY SAD TO READ BH THE WAY AHJSJD!!! Her becoming the family’s matriarch did put a smile on my face,,, aloof as she is she can be dependable and stubborn I feel like augh,,, and meryl :( her accepting the cane without much fight had me rolling around . IDK YOU JUST. vague hand gestures captured it really well in such short writing??

Living as someone else’s ideal turning into living for someone else entirely just. Myh. There isn’t much he can do, and that just. Leaves that. Carrying their memories. Keeping by their side to stave off their loneliness. Mourn those that passed, will pass, together. It really would be worth living the life he’s always lead

In short I’ll be rereading it along with that dozen and some tabs everyday thankyou for your work actually HOLYYY SHIT IM GIDDY THINKING ABT THE FIC AGAIN GELP 🗣

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kroosluvr · 6 months ago

Note

"if it were up to me i'd send light yagami to inaba"

To catch the killer? Or to see if the IT can solve the Kira case? Cause i can definitely see him curious about how those murders were done and if they were Death Note related.

More importantly, is Naoto friends with L? Or does L have beef with the Shirogane family? Like some kind of petty rivalry between detectives

OMFGGGG more like i'd want him to be the culprit........ i want him to throw ppl into tvs (or whatever) and then try to take hold of the investigation to solve his own case SMILE. (so like completely unrelated to the death note verse) (but like put him in adachi's place SORT OF but still have him go to yasogami and be the charming honest high school student that we know he is!!! bats eyelashes)

i just think it'd be interesting if light HAD to take a more hands-on way of eliminating criminals. bc half the point of death note is that, since light had such an Easy way of killing them off, ofc he took that avenue: in no universe would light actually like go out and kill people with his bare hands bc he's too cowardly/lazy/etc for that...... and ALSO i think the goofy/unserious tone of p4g (juxtaposed with the eerie loneliness of inaba and ofc the harrowing Fog....) would suit him. like i want him to meet teddie and then his eyes roll back into his skull like GODDDD I AM GOING TO KILL MYSE

IF THE IT COULD SOLVE THE KIRA CASE LMAOOOOO GOOD QUESTION i think yu would hit the "we shld just run light over w a car and then see if the killings stop" strat that L should have took

OMG THAT REMINDS ME THOUGH i remember seeing someone draw fanart of an AU where light/L are naoto's adopted dads!! IT WAS SO CUTE I DONT REMEMBER THE ARTIST RN BUT IM PRETTY SURE I RB'ED IT SO ILL CHECK LATER EHHEHE

i think L wouldnt have beef with any detective because hes 1) pretty self-assured in his best-detective-ness 2) if he really saw em as a threat he'd just take em out and take their name like coil and denueve. i'd say its more likely that he's worked with the shiroganes in the past if anything :o yknow its interesting tho... i dont know a lot abt naoto's family but it's interesting to think if wammy's house had tabs kept on naoto bc they came from that prestigious shirogane family tho

#cele answers #Anonymous #dn

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sevengraces · 1 year ago

Text

someday I'm gonna be somebody people want

You, ch2, Title Card

AO3 Link

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Tim slowly stiffened as he came back into himself. He was curled up in Jasons lap, with his head shoved under the older mans’ chin and his face buried in his neck. His hands were gripping the back of Jasons’ jacket like he belonged there and there were half dried tears all over the both of them. Jason had his arm wrapped around him and his other hand was running though his hair. Casually, he pressed a kiss onto the top of Tims’ hair, still speaking softly throughout it all.

-or-

Nobody ever deals well with loneliness, but certain people are probably worse at it and certain people probably deal with it more often. Tim is of course both of these people.

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

Hello, this is complete and I might just post it all at once, we shall see lol. First DC post at all tbh, and I've read exactly one comic in my life and am not likely to read more so if you are a canon type of reader then you might not wanna be here. All character and such choices come from the first Red Robin comic and fanfiction, that is it. The fic title is from Noah Kahan "Come Over" and the chapter title is from Dodie "All My Daughters" - I picked the songs and lyrics for the titles from a playlist I made abt Tim Drake and these were the best fits for the fic lol, lemme know if you want more Tim Drake song recs cause I've got a shit ton.

(also if you're here for my series in progress I'm sorry- I promise it'll happen just maybe not for awhile, it hasn't been my special interest in a hot minute so this is what you're getting rn lol)

CW's/TW's:

panic attacks negative self talk/low self esteem swearing vomit mentions of canon typical violence suicidal thoughts --- that should be all but as always let me know if I missed something

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Chapter 1- I'll grow the bones myself then, on my own again

Tim has pretty much always known, in the way that clever children tend to know things, that there is possibly something wrong with how his parents raised him. Objectively an eleven year old shouldn’t know to lie about who is and isn’t home to avoid trouble, but being alone suited him. It was convenient and necessary and normal and understandable and utterly, utterly miserable. But growing up a lonely child suited him in the same way that grief suited Batman, terrible but necessary.

Batman has only gotten better at grief and Tim thinks, as an emancipated minor in the silence of his blank apartment with big windows and echoey walls, that perhaps he has perfected the art of the lonely child.

Regardless of how suited he is to isolation, he knows he grows maudlin the longer it lasts. It’s a poor excuse for his weak will, but as he stands in his sparkling penthouse kitchen silently making his third cup of coffee this morning he considers.

Tim braces his elbows on the solid marble countertop with his eyes closed to the harsh fluorescent lights and the echoes of his mothers’ sharp nails in his arm and he considers picking up the phone. He could call someone- anyone at all, in an effort to avoid this sinking sensation he’s fled from since he was nine years old with nothing but everything he’d ever needed and a camera to keep him sated. Someone might even answer, depending on who he called.

It is ten in the morning on an entirely unremarkable Saturday. The sun is resting comfortably in the sky, his phone is fully charged, he knows where everyone he has ever cared about is, and he could call anyone.

Tim opens his eyes and stretches out an arm across the countertop towards his phone, hesitating slightly before making contact but pushing through nonetheless. He flicks it on and ignores every single notification with the heavy awareness that not a single one of them is from anyone who actually wants to talk to him, he taps through the apps before reaching the dial screen and he places the phone face up on the countertop and breathes.

He stands straight from where he had been bent over, carrying his coffee with him through the rest of the kitchen. He doesn’t open the fridge, there’s nothing in there anyways. Tim takes even steps until he reaches the far window of the living room where he leans against it and slides down slowly.

Once he’s rested against the floor with his fresh coffee cradled in his hands he leans his head against the cool glass and considers his options.

He could call Cass, she’d probably answer him. Mostly because he never calls unless there’s a world ending disaster, but she would answer him. After the hurried reassurance that “No Cass, nothings wrong- I just wanted to talk” she would probably let him ramble on about whatever he could come up with for awhile before she pointed out in that simple, honest way of hers that they didn’t talk like this and she knows he didn’t call just to make small talk. She would stare at his face through the screen and wait for his explanation, she would stare and wait for him to lie. Once he did, because he always did- what else could he even do? She would watch his body tense, she would follow the lines of anxiety like a roadmap, until every petty insecurity was written plain as sin on his face. And then she would accept the lie like it didn’t hurt, like she didn’t know. They would talk and maybe even have an okay time, then something would happen in Hong Kong and she’d have to go or WE would explode in some new way and he would have to go. Either way the call would end and Tim would be alone again in his pristine, lifeless apartment except this time someone else would know how badly he wanted to claw off his skin in the hopes of finding whatever was deeply wrong with him.

Tim laughed like a rusty hinge and took a sip of coffee. To no fault of her own, Cass couldn’t help him- he ignored the fact that the only solid feeling he’d had in days was that nothing and no one could help him.

There was always someone a little less discerning, like Dick. The man could flay him alive, but it would be entirely unintentional and oblivious on his part. He could call Dick and he might answer. Of course it was a Saturday morning so he was probably either asleep or with Damian, and Tim didn’t want to wake him up or deal with the building tension as he waited for Dick to hang up because the demon brat needed something at that exact minute. There was the chance he was hanging out by himself at his own apartment in Bludhaven, but even Tim could only intrude on the older mans’ personal space and time so often. No, Tim knew with a bone deep certainty that he could not handle this call going to voicemail or being cut short because Tim was the easiest burden to leave behind.

He carefully placed his coffee mug on the floor next to him and pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes, watching the spots burst into being and fade out slowly.

For obvious reasons he wasn’t going to call Damian. For all that he was eleven years old and impossible to deal with, Tim didn’t want to be the type of person who needed a teenager to regulate his emotions for him. The boy knew how that felt first hand- and even if he’d walked into Robin with his eyes open to the consequences, he’d been pushed out with his eyes a little wider and his chest a little hollower for more reasons than most wanted to believe. No matter how snot nosed the demon brat was, that kid had spent too long playing at being an adult and he deserved better than that from Tim, at least. Tim doggedly ignored the fact that he himself had only been a little older than Damian is now when he’d yanked on the mantle with two hands and the determination of a desperate child, he also ignored the fact that Damian would skin him alive for thinking such thoughts even tangentially to thoughts of the boy himself.

The seventeen year old grabbed blindly for his coffee and took a long drink. He had a feeling he knew exactly where this thought exercise was going, but Tim had never been one to give up. Not when he really should, not when it would’ve been easier for everyone involved, and not when it was pointless. He had been good at the suspension of disbelief long before he’d joined the crusade, and he was loathe to break a bad habit.

If not Cass, Dick, or Damian to call- there was always Jason. Tim choked back a snort and stared at the empty wall next to the front door, yes there was always Jason. It was maybe a little unfair to think so poorly of the older boy, but it was too easy for Tim to think highly of him and he had fallen from those heights a few times more often than he’d care to admit. It wasn’t that Jason wasn’t kind or even that he was unwilling to talk to Tim these days, it was more-so that he’d never stopped trying to impress the older man and peeling back his flesh to show Jason the slimy, unlikable parts and then ask to be coddled was a level of desperate that he shuddered to think of reaching. Of course Jason had never been one to coddle Tim in general, which was a generous way of putting it. But despite it all, Jason was a good person and lately seemed if not interested in Tim then vaguely affectionate towards the concept of him- he would probably answer on principle. But how was Tim to even start that conversation? “Hi Jason, I know we literally only talk when we’re working or when Dick gets it in his head that all of us being Robin at some point means something, but I was wondering if you would talk with me about something that wasn’t either mutually traumatizing or how much you hate me. Why? So that I can pretend that someone would choose to be around me, that’s all.” Yeah probably not the best idea he’s had to date.

Tim chewed his lips and pretended that his breathing wasn’t getting heavier the shorter his list of options got. He barreled forward with his mug between his feet and his head between his knees.

Alfred had never once refused a call, with the only recompense being the subtle implications that he really ought to join them for dinner more often. Tim could call Alfred and the man would answer. He would answer and reserve judgement, even more- he would be perfectly willing to bring Tim up to speed on everything he’d missed since the two had last spoken. He would fill him in like it was nothing and with no disapproval to be heard. Alfred was really his best option but nonetheless the boy refused to move towards his phone, still face up and turned on across the room. Alfred had never turned down any overtures of companionship, at least not since Tim had been allowed into the circle as Robin, but he’d also never really reached out to him of his own volition. Tim had always told himself it was the older mans sense of propriety, but what if it was that same sense of propriety that kept him on the line? Tim was lonely, sure, but he didn’t want to take advantage of the fact that Alfred had been attached to the Wayne name for longer than even Bruce had been alive and Tim had latched onto the family like a burr or a mold. The boy wasn’t sure he could handle being placated either, he’d met plenty of people employed under his parents and if today was the day Tim noticed how similar their vacant indulgence was to Alfreds’ steadfast professionalism he would probably break in irreparable ways.

He forcibly calmed his breathing and glared at the mug between his ankles. He ignored how that feeling from earlier had strengthened and barricaded itself in his chest and was making it hard to focus on his heartbeats.

There was Stephanie, one of his oldest and long-lasting companions. He could call her but she was pretty likely to be busy and thus not answer or be rightfully angry and thus not answer. He would have no way of knowing except that he knew which one was most likely if only based on historical precedence. He had been a bad boyfriend but a better friend- that of course didn’t mean much, it wasn’t a particularly hard bar to clear after all. Even disregarding all of their history, Tim hadn’t really spoken to Steph since blowing into town with ninjas on his heels and animosity between them a mile wide. They still hadn’t really sat down and talked about everything from her death, the gang war, and his radio silence during his search for Bruce. It felt wrong to call her up like none of that had happened and she still wanted him around as anything other than a competent yet obnoxious coworker.

The thought of Steph ached like a bruise and that pain only compounded the marching drumbeat in his chest that called out in gleeful tones "Not wanted, not wanted" and so Tim snuffed it like the wick of a bomb and moved onward once more.

Babs was always available, somehow. She made a point to keep a line open for any capes in the Gotham area no matter how frosty the personal relationship had gotten. But that was for professional things, and Tim didn’t know if he could deal with reaching out to her for comfort only for her to remind him exactly how they’d left things. He’d had a case related theory- Bruce wasn’t dead. Dick had disagreed, Barbara had disagreed, everyone had disagreed. Tim had pushed and Dick had taken it both personally and poorly, that moved things from a professional dispute between allies to a personal spat between the nosy neighbor and her long time closest companion. There was no version of reality where Babs chose Tim over Dick, honestly there probably wasn’t a version of reality where anyone chose Tim over anyone they even vaguely liked- let alone loved. It would be absurd to expect her to push past how he’d hurt Dick, even though he’d been right, and it was impossible for Tim to push past how she’d left him to fend for himself out of spite despite the fact that he should’ve expected it and known better.

Tim was trying hard not to catastrophize, he knew that was what it was actually called when he came up with one thousand plans with ten backup versions each, but it was so tempting to script his conversations so that nothing could go wrong. It was nearly fool proof and most of the time it felt like it was almost worth the consequence of looking in the mirror and having his gaze drawn to how his mothers eyes and bone structure fit comfortably on his face. There was always the chance that someone would see his railroading for what it was, but Young JustUs and Steph had been the only people to do so in any meaningful way.

There was nothing stopping him from call Kon, Bart, or Cassie. Well, that was almost true- Kon would answer but he had better things to do than hold his hand through the consequences of his self-imposed isolation. The super was just barely on good terms with Clark and testing the waters of a brotherly relationship with Jon- he had actual, real problems to deal with that didn’t have anything to do with the sort of best friend that had gone insane when he died and tried to clone him back to life. Bart was in a similar boat in that he definitely shouldn’t have to help someone who was somehow less emotionally adjusted than him handle reality. The speedster was beginning to settle back into this time period, and seemed to be believing in the permanence of it in a way he hadn’t before he’d died. Tim didn’t need to shake that up just because he was coping poorly with his own decisions. Cassie was an entirely different situation that Tim was in no way equipped to handle with competency. How do you ask your ex-girlfried/bestfriend/group life partner to tell you she still cares about you when your last proper conversation was her telling you how insane you’d gone and you telling her that you didn’t need her anymore- you don’t, that’s how.

Even though Young JustUs had been prepared to be together until the heat death of the universe, Tim should’ve known better than to hang his hopes on something as flimsy as that. People simply didn’t stay with Tim, which was something he’d learned at the age of ten when his parents had skipped every holiday that year (and his birthday) without comment or apology, he just knew that ten year old would be embarrassed at how far he’d fallen just because some people had been nice to him for a little while. He should’ve known better then and he did know better now.

Bruce was alive and in the correct time so he should be an option, but even Tim wasn’t that delusional. The man was still settling into the modern day and his new family dynamics that had changed without him. True, he was Batman again and Damian was his Robin- but the demon brat still deferred to Dick more often than not and Dick was a little too smug about such preferential treatment to discourage it in any meaningful way. Not that Dick was particularly good at discouraging the boy of any behaviors even when he didn’t enjoy the results but, water and bridges and such. Bruce was chafing under his performative authority and thus going on some sort of family building kick as a consequence. He would definitely answer, but Tim wasn’t sure he could withstand any sort of relationship they built getting thrown to the side once this little tantrum ended. This call would mean too much to Tim and be nothing more than bragging rights or blackmail for Bruce, there was a reason he was the bottom of the list.

Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne was sitting on the floor of his perfect apartment with his head between his knees and a recently emptied coffee mug next to him when he realized, with a sharp exhale like a punch to the gut, that it didn’t matter.

He shot up from his perch, kicking the mug across the room to shatter against the wall, and he laughed. He laughed so hard he couldn’t breathe. He laughed so hard he choked and shook and began to sob. Here he was, freaking out in his stupid apartment in ways he hadn’t since the first time his parents left him home alone for more than a week, and for what reason? He had known this little spectacle wouldn’t mean anything but tears in the end, what was his fascination with self-torture that he’d needed to break it down on a person by person basis like it wasn’t a foregone conclusion as of four years ago when he’d wedged his way into this doomed mission with nothing but empty hands and spite. His sobbing picked up volume and his breathing got sharper.

In some distant way Tim was aware that he was having a panic attack. A pretty bad one, if the crying and shaking had anything to say about it. But in that same distant way he didn’t really care. He was watching himself choke on his tears so hard that he had to curl over and vomit on the hardwood floors and he couldn’t bring himself to feel any type of way about it. What did it matter if he choked to death on his vomit in this perfect, sterile penthouse all by himself? Wasn’t it a little poetic, in a morbid sort of way?

If it wasn’t for the fact that Janet Drake had no physical choice, she would’ve skipped his birth just like his father had- she probably would’ve avoided his birth happening all together if they’d had their way. They’d left him alone as soon as they could get away with it, and he’d wasted away his years waiting for them to come back and acknowledge that they had a son. Wouldn’t it be ironic if he died choking on the physical manifestation of his loneliness in an apartment that reminded him too much of his childhood home to ever be comfortable?

Tim- not Drake or Wayne, just Tim-Nobodies-Son, spread out on his freezing floors and tried to breathe through the suddenly overwhelming urge to see if a second fall from a window would do the job. He tried to beat back the echoing voice that seemed to emanate from the middle of his chest, that had graduated from “not wanted” to “never wanted”, because he could see the next escalation coming from a mile away and he knew there was nobody there to stop it but him- like always. And ever so slowly his tears dried, tacky and embarrassing, and his shame returned to him like his coffee had just a moment ago.

He sighed loud and long, “What am I even doing? I’m lucky dad is dead- at least he doesn’t get to see exactly how right he was.”

As the boy kneaded the tension from his forehead he noticed a clicking sound that, in hindsight, had been echoing around his walls for quite awhile.

And then Jason Todd, in all his murderous glory, was standing in his doorway with lock picks in hand and an unreadable expression on his face.

#fanfic #tim drake #dc universe #batman #red robin #Jason Todd #mentioned batfamily #hurt/comfort #grace is writing

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autisticempathydaemon · 1 year ago

Note

My little submission for the match ups!

I just wanna see who you'll pair me up with!

song I'm hyper fixated in rn is your on your own kid by Taylor Swift the lines "I gave my blood sweat and tears for this" idk I guess it's just cool and I'm academically tired and relate to it

my ennagram type is 5w9 ISTP

video essays are absolutely awesome probably my fav vids! my favorite ones would be like the timeline of a story based/lore based game or some arg stuff

I never really had a childhood friend so I wouldn't know but the closest I had for a childhood friend is a toy I have that I pretend came alive- basically it's a white cat stuffed animal with blue eyes and a pink ribbon

my go-to way of falling asleep I guess is just the good ol' lay down and close my eyes tactic

favorite of redacted would be Geordi's throwback audio and Vincent's throwback with stranger too also Damien's non canon romances audio

Ollie and Aaron I guess I just don't get the appeal of office people

tangled, I watched it so much I practically memorized it

Asher! he's so cool and chill totally would be friends with him and his shenanigans

my favorite playlist would be my Taylor swift playlist- idk other songs just got boring and I just remembered the extensive amount of songe genre Taylor dabbles in and how I love all of it

guilty pleasure media... bf audios no comment

some random stuff Abt me would be:

I love blue! alot, it's just my fav color ig, I kin alot of the "tough on the outside, soft on the inside characters" ex. darlin', Shenhe. And that's it! excited to see who you pair me up with!

Hmmmm~ I think you and your match have a lot in common but just enough not in common to keep things interesting, to keep you from clashing. You and Damien would have a very interesting but very functional relationship.

I think you and Damien share the same Enneagram and MBTI, both characterized by an independent intelligence, capable and ambitious and curious. (This is supported by you being academically tired.) I think putting two people like that together can be really beneficial in keeping one another in check, in making sure the other doesn’t burn out, you know? There’d be a lot of checking one another’s work, late nights getting junk food and study fuel, helping each other keep an eye on deadlines, and making sure some essential self-care is done no matter what,

With that in mind, I think y’all would be so cute and so… him. Like, I don’t think he loves Taylor Swift, but I think he went about getting you Eras tickets like a man on a mission. He had the whole DAMN crew on ticketmaster and on the phone, coordinating, and drove you there and picked you up so you wouldn’t get gouged by uber surge prices. He buys little blue trinkets when he’s out shopping to let you know he’s thinking about you, because he’d be a penguin-pebbling kind of guy. A relationship with Damien is full of functional, practical but undeniable shows of his love.

Song:

And I've always lived like this/ Keeping a comfortable, distance/ And up until now/ I had sworn to myself that I'm content/ With loneliness/ Because none of it was ever worth the risk/ But, you are, the only exception

Delightful, I’ve been waiting for the right match-up to use this song! Damien is such a loving, darling, tsundere motherfucker, and though I focused on what your established relationship together would look like, it’s also so fun to think about the whole falling in love process. I could see a great friends to lovers, maybe even rivals to lovers dynamic, that has the two of you slowly getting closer and wearing down those tsundere walls of his until you become his only exception.

Runner-ups:

Guy would be a cute match for you because one, he strikes me as the biggest Swiftie of the redacted bois and two, I think he’d be a good contrast to you where Damien compares, you know? James, I like for a lot of the same reasons as Damien, but I liked Damien more since you’re both students.

note: thank you so much for waiting 💙

Read this post and send me an ask if you’d like a match-up of your own! 💌

#redactedasmr #redactedverse #redacted asmr #redactedaudio #redacted audio #redacted #busybee matches

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taintedcigs · 1 year ago

Text

Now, he is sitting here, in the corner of the bar, with a drink that he had bought with his fake ID, soon he won’t have to use it anymore. With his head hung low, he lets his mind go to places that he had avoided all day. Dark thoughts that hold nothing but heartbreak and loneliness. He doesn’t feel miserable, just really fucking sad. He has people who care about him, friends who love him, people he now considers family. And yet, he still feels lonelier than ever. ALLLLREADY CRYING. dude this is so SO Sad. but at the same time soooo relatable. im gonna die he needs a hug fr :(( ill give him some warm hugssss

But, Eddie has Wayne, he always had Wayne. Steve doesn’t. He doesn’t have anyone who looks after him. He is all by himself. STOP STOP STOP THIS IS SO SAD. THIS IS WHY THEY'RE SO TETHERED. THEY SHOULD JUST KIS- HUG I MEAN UHHH AND LIKE COMFORT EACH OTHER.

“Please, Eddie,” you whisper, mustering up the best puppy eyes and a pout that he can never say no to. “We can just have fun together, you’ve never met drunk Steve before, he can be funny – unless he decides to break your heart but, that won’t happen to you, don’t worry,” you giggle. LMAOOO IM CRYING SHE JUST HAS NO CHILL BUT LIKE GO GIRL. I DEAL W MY TRAUMAS BY JOKING ABT THEM TOO SHES SO REAL FOR THIS ONE IDC.

“Lay off, Robin. Maybe he just wanted to get a few drinks and not deal with your annoying ass,” he says to her with a grin. IMMMM CRYING AT EDDIE AND READER GANGING UP AGAINST ROBIN TO PROTECT STEVE. IM LOVING THEIR DYNAMIC. SOSO MUCH. JUST SO FUN AND WARMS MY HEART.

“Not like that.” “Like what?” “Like you’re mocking me!” Steve exclaims. “How am I mocking you, Steve?” ONCE AGAIN. I LOVE THEIRY DYNAMIC. THEY ARE SO BOYFRIENDS. AND THEY'RE ALSO READERS BOYFRIENDS. IK WE'RE NOT GETTING STEDDIE X READER BUT LIKE ITS STILL FUN LMAOO.

Steve can’t even fight the smile off his lips, his eyes crinkle, his cheeks flush and he giggles, “we’re in the pool, having the best time of our lives, right? And, fifteen year old me apparently thought that it was a good idea to kiss my best friend, but I totally missed her lips and kissed her nose and she fucking laughed at me, but I wanted to try again. I lean in when I suddenly feel the urge to throw up.” KISSING HER NOSE IM CACKLINNNGGG. THE WAY ROBIN IS PROB LISTENING TO THEIR STORY LIKE THIS

“A girlfriend?” You ask as you raise the glass to your lips, shrugging, “I don’t know, I never thought about it but kissing girls is fun, so.. I suppose doing anything else with a girl is fun too.” UHM... HELLO? WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON? NANCY X READER IS SO REAL? I WON? WE'RE SO FUCKING BAD NANCYREADER NATIONNNNN. (let me live my delusion)

“What’s that?” ohhhhhh shit. steve you fucked up sooo damn bad. like not even once? NOT EVEN ONCE?? you could've at least tried and fucked up but this is AWWWFUUUL.

Oh. Steve had never – fuck. How? If you were his, he’d spend day and night on his knees, worshiping you. why are there flutters and butterflies in my stomach and vagina rn. im literally on the verge of dying.

“Fine! Two or three months ago, happy? Now, Harrington, I think I should teach you some basics.” OHHHH SHIT. EDDIE U FUCKED UPPPP?!?!?! IDC READER HAS A RIGHT TO BE MAD!!! I SUPPORT WOMENS RIGHTS BUT ALSO WOMENS WRONGS (she could do no wrong reader is my angel princess)

“You have never actually eaten pussy before, dude?” Robin mumbles. Steve rubs the back of his neck, nervously, “I mean, yeah. Just not–” he pauses with a look of shame in his eyes as he briefly glances at you. IM CRYING STEVE JUST STFUUUUUU U R DIGGING URSELF INTO A BIGGER GRAVE STAWPP IT.

Whether it’s tears of anger or tears of sadness. You are sick of it. You are sick of yourself. You are sick of crying. You are sick of the pining, of the jealousy, of the sadness. OH MY POOR ANGEL. EDDIE U BETTER FIIIIX IT RN. MAYBE GIVE HER A BIG OL' KISS? A SMOOCHIE SMOOCH?!? I NEED THEM TOGETHER SO BADLY BUT IM NOT BLAMING GIRLIE FOR THIS ONE.

You are done. You are so fucking done. oh you're always so real cheer. I CANNOT WAIIIT FOR THE TENSION BETWEEN THEM!! AS ALWAYS IM IN LOVE W THIS STORY AND IM SO EXCITED TO SEE MORE FROM EDDIE X READER THEY ARE MY BABIIIESSS.

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 26

Warnings: 18+, angst, alcohol consumption, weed, mentions of vomiting, mentions of sex, mentions of cunnilingus, clueless reader, jealousy

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader | Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: During a spontaneous birthday 'party', you find some things out, things that maybe should've been left unsaid.

Word count: 6k+

A/N: So, this chapter took a whole turn while I was writing it. It was supposed to head into a whole different direction but my angsty heart, had to say no to the fluffy route. @hellfire--cult thank you for helping me, you're amazingggg

series masterlist

Steve lied.

He lied again.

It’s something he hasn’t done in a while.

He promised himself to never do it again, knowing how much damage it had caused in the past, in both relationships that he had.

This lie is harmless, though. At least, he thinks that it is.

He spent the day with Robin and Dustin, they had surprised him with a homemade birthday cake that Robin had made with Chrissy’s help, it would’ve been a cute one, had Dustin not ruined it with his Star Wars decorations. Lucas and Max showed up as well, ‘surprising’ him by throwing a bunch of balloons and confetti at him.

They made him blow out the candles, before forcing him to open all the presents. Dustin’s present was not surprising, at all. A Star Wars movie collection. Lucas had given him a keychain, with a little basketball pendant. Max acted all careless as always, shrugging it off when he gave her a kind smile and a ‘thank you’, yet, she gave him one of the best presents, a collection of polaroids of him with the teens, with Robin and even you, along with new records, claiming that he needs to expand his music taste. He has yet to unwrap Robin’s presents.

They ate cake, went to the movies and the diner. And afterwards, Steve drove everyone home. Robin didn’t believe him when he said that he made plans with his parents for the evening, that they’d come home to spend his birthday with him. She was suspicious, not buying the lies he was feeding her with, Steve could tell but she had no choice but to say goodbye when he dropped her off at home, he really didn’t want her to stay longer than she had to, he wanted to be alone, by himself. So, when she begrudgingly got out of the car and gave him a sad smile, he gave her a cheerful one back, pretending to be happy when he was feeling anything but it.

He didn’t go home. He knew that his parents wouldn’t come and he couldn’t stand the thought of staying in that big house, all by himself, tonight. He drove past your street, as well, fighting the urge to go and see you.

There is only one place he knew he would find peace at. The Hideout.

He looks around the bar, it’s not very crowded, it never is. Maybe on weekends, but never during the week. Rock music plays in the back, he hears the chatter of a group of young men by the bar, they’re laughing, throwing back drinks – they are clearly having a great time. For a while, Steve watches them. How they laugh with each other, how they all look so carefree and happy. He doesn’t even know what it feels like to feel that way anymore, to have fun and be happy without ruining everything with his actions in the matter of just a few minutes.

He sighs, leaning back in the chair, he looks down at his drink, that lately he started to find more and more comfort in.

The door opens but he doesn’t bother to look up, not caring about whoever it is that walked through the door. He is so focused on the miserable feeling inside his chest, the tearing, the longing, the yearning, the hurt.

Before his mind can react, his heart is already fluttering when he hears your voice. He raises his head, eyes finding you immediately. You’re here. You’re here with Eddie. And you look more beautiful than ever. You’re wearing a black dress and the dark denim jacket that he was cursing at, last year when he had yet to find out who it belonged to. Your hair is falling softly in waves, your lips are glowing a soft pink beneath the dim light, you’re giggling, slapping Eddie’s arm playfully when he whispers something in your ear.

His eyes soften, despite you being here with him, giggling at him, he can’t help but smile when he finally sees you again. It’s only been a few weeks since he had properly seen you, yet, it seems like forever.

When your eyes find him and your giggles die down, your smile falls and your eyes widen. He freezes. Not knowing how to react or what to do. Not only have you caught him staring, you have also caught him lying. Again. You were the first person he lied to about his birthday plans. He looks away with a blush on his cheeks, his hand grip the glass tighter, he inwardly curses himself out for coming here, tonight.

“It’s his birthday, right?” Eddie mumbles behind you.

“Yeah,” you whisper in confusion. “He told me that he would spend his birthday with his parents..”

Eddie looks away from you and back at Steve. He sits there, looking crestfallen. His shoulders are slumped, his face etched with sadness, he can see it, even from a distance. The sight of him sitting there so lonely and sad is pitiful. Eddie knows what he feels like, at this moment. His dad never cared about him, not even on his birthdays, he never even bothered to give him a call from wherever he was currently living or staying at.

But, Eddie has Wayne, he always had Wayne. Steve doesn’t. He doesn’t have anyone who looks after him. He is all by himself.

“I guess they didn’t come,” you mumble with sadness and a hint of disappointment in your voice. “They never do.”

“Robin told me that he was acting weird when he dropped her off earlier.”

Despite his dislike for him, he can’t help but feel bad for Steve. The people he wants the most, aren’t in his life.

His parents are gone.

You are gone.

Steve had changed. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, Eddie can see that he has changed for the better. That he isn’t the guy who hurt you, who left you standing on your birthday, who broke your heart and left you for someone else. He isn’t that guy anymore. Had he still been that guy, Eddie wouldn’t even bother to look at him twice and feel any ounce of pity for him but now, things are different. He is different. In a way, it scares Eddie, because he knows that he now has a chance for a second try, with you.

“Do you think he’s here by himself?”

You shrug, looking away from Steve, you turn towards Eddie, “yeah.”

You feel the little item in your pocket, the one that suddenly feels too heavy, the one you itch to reach for and give it to the one you got it for.

Eddie looks down at you, at the sadness in your eyes. For once, it doesn’t make him feel frustrated or annoyed to see you be so sad for someone who hurt you.

“No one should be alone on their birthday,” Eddie mumbles.

“Yeah,” you sigh, looking down at your hands. “But, I-I guess it’s what he wanted, he could’ve spent time with Robin.”

“He was with her before, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah.”

Eddie sighs. There is hesitation in your voice and in your eyes.

“Do you want to spend time with him?” He asks, already feeling the dread tugging in his chest, knowing that the night won’t go the way he wanted it to.

For a moment, you stare into Eddie’s brown eyes, there’s a kindness in them, kindness for him. That is something so rare.

“Uh, I’m sure he wants to be alone.”

Eddie knows you. Eddie knows what you want, right now. But, you are hesitating out of fear of upsetting him.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers, placing his finger under your chin, tilting your head up. “I won’t get angry. If you want to spend time with him tonight, we can cancel our plans and you can go be with him.” He nudges his chin into Steve’s directions. “I don’t like him but, shit, even I can’t stand the fucking kicked puppy look that he’s sporting, right now.”

You eye his face. Even through the sadness for Steve, the smile for you, you can see the slight fear in his eyes. The fear that any moment with you, will be his last one before you find your way back to Steve, before you say goodbye to a friendship that might’ve saved your life. But even through the fear, he still wants the best for you, he still wants what you want.

“I think he wants to be alone,” you repeat.

Eddie looks over your shoulder to see him staring at you.

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

You sigh, shaking your head.

“What if we all hang out together?”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think that Steve would be happy to spend time with me–”

He raises his brows at you, surprised that you are making a joke about that.

“You go buy us drinks and I’ll go convince him to spend time with us. We can just all get drunk together, maybe you’ll finally get along,” you shrug, giving him a sheepish smile, you place your hands on his chest, pushing him towards the bar, not taking no for an answer.

“I don’t think it’ll take much convincing,” he snorts. As though you would ever have to convince Steve to spend time with you. Eddie is certain that all it takes is a glance from you and that man is already by your side, you got Steve wrapped around your finger, just like him, and you don’t even know it.

You turn on your heel, not waiting for a response from Eddie. You make your way over to Steve, whose head is still hung low. Your heart thumps a little faster in your chest when you inch closer and closer to him. You push your hand into your pocket, reaching for the tiny bag that you had taken with you earlier when you considered dropping by his house.

You stop in front of him, taking a shaky breath as you place the small bag on the table, sliding it towards him.

“Happy birthday, Steve,” you whisper.

His wide eyes stare at the bag, the tiny jewelry pouch that clearly holds a present inside for him. His eyes soften, staring at your ringed fingers that linger next to his hand for a moment.

He looks up, slowly. Hazel eyes flashing with softness when they meet yours. You stare at him with a shy smile, sadness lingering in your pretty eyes. His heart flutters so strongly, he longs to touch you.

“Thank you,” he whispers, giving you a smile. “W-What’s that?” He asks, pointing to his present without tearing his eyes from you.

“I got you a little present. I-It’s nothing special just, I just wanted to get you something. You don’t have to open it now, just uh–”

“Y/n,” he smiles, interrupting your rambling, “you didn’t even have to get me anything but I appreciate it, I will love it.”

“You don’t even know what it is.”

“Yeah but it’s from you, so, I will love it, dolly.”

A smile appears on your face, you nod slowly, whispering a small ‘okay’. You know that Steve always loved to keep certain presents for last, so you’re not surprised to see him tucking it into the pocket of his jeans.

“Your parents didn’t come?”

He looks down, holding the glass tighter, he shakes his head, unable to bear the pitiful look on your face.

“Oh.”

“It’s okay,” he whispers before you can say ‘I'm sorry, steve.’ He doesn’t want you to pity him.

“No, it’s not. You shouldn’t be alone.”

“I-I wasn’t alone, I was with Robin all day and the kids–”

“But, now you are.”

He raises his head to look at you. And, before he can even say anything, his words get caught in his throat when he looks at you. Your eyes are glistening, not with tears and sadness, but with something else, something he cannot read. You look at him differently than you did weeks ago, not in a way that scares him or breaks him but, in a way, that only leaves him with one too many questions. He struggles to read you, to understand you. It’s like he can no longer see through you the way he could before. Nonetheless, he feels so calm and safe in your presence and he wants this moment to last forever.

“Right now, I’m not, though. You’re here.”

You smile at his words.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

When Eddie appears by your side, Steve tries not to let his smile fall.

Right. He is here too.

“Happy Birthday, man.”

To Steve’s surprise, he sees Eddie not with two but three shots in his hands, he places them all on the table. Grinning at him in a way he can’t tell whether it’s a kind one or a sarcastic one.

“Thanks,” Steve nods at him.

Eddie pulls the chair back for you, you smile at him, taking the seat across from Steve. Eddie sits down beside you, leaving Steve with a questioning look on his face as he looks between the two of you.

“W-What?”

“You think we’re gonna let you spend the night alone, Harrington?”

Steve looks at Eddie in confusion, hearing these words not from yours but from his mouth leaves him more puzzled than ever. Eddie spending time with him willingly? He purses his lips, squinting his eyes as he turns to look at you. You smile at him, shrugging. You slide one of the shots towards him.

“I mean, I thought that we could spend this night together,” you say, smiling with hope in your eyes. “Or we can leave if that’s what you–”

“No, I-I want to.”

He looks between you two, giving Eddie an awkward smile.

“Cool! Let’s drink, then.”

“Yeah, let’s drink,” he chuckles as he ditches his glass of whiskey for the shot of whatever Eddie had ordered.

“When’s the last time you got drunk?” You ask them both.

“Oh man,” Eddie mumbles, leaning back in his seat, he puts his arm on the back of your chair. “I don’t even remember, it’s been a while. What about you, sweetheart?”

“Uh, well, I had a cocktail night with the girls, a few weeks ago,” you say, giggling. “Oh, also at a party.”

You and Eddie look at each other, he instantly knows what party you are talking about when he sees the amused look on your face. He chuckles, though he instantly gets taken back that night. When you showed up with that stolen bat plushie, when you told him how much you missed him, when you told him that you wished you met him first.

Steve looks between you two, a sinking feeling in his stomach takes place. There are things you share with Eddie, things that he will never know about because he isn’t in his place anymore.

“I knew it! I knew you were lying to me, Dingus!”

Startled by the voice, all three of you snap your heads towards the angry girl walking towards the three of you with a frown on her face, pointing her finger at Steve.

Steve’s eyes widen, “I can explain.”

Something about the anger on Robin’s face and the panic in Steve’s features makes you giggle.

Robin slaps the back of his head, lightly.

“Ouch! Robin!”

“You are such a–”

“Dingus, yeah yeah, I know.”

Eddie laughs at that, smirking at Steve who throws him a glare.

“You think that’s funny, Munson?”

Eddie leans back with a satisfied grin, “actually yeah.”

Robin plops down in the seat next to Steve, still staring at him with a frown on her face.

“Why did you lie to me? Why are you here?”

Steve sighs, scratching the back of his neck as he gives her a sheepish smile.

“And what are you two doing here?” She asks, turning to look at you and Eddie.

“Came here for a couple of drinks and then we found this sad puppy,” Eddie mumbles, pointing at Steve.

Steve rolls his eyes, mumbling a few incoherent words under his breath.

“We just asked him to spend the night with us.”

Robin gives you a surprised look before her eyes move back to Eddie, who, doesn’t look as enthusiastic about this whole thing as you do.

“How did you even know I was here?”

Robin leans her elbow on the table, tilting her head at Steve, “well, I was craving some burgers and my favorite driver was apparently at a birthday dinner so I couldn’t ask him to drive me, so I walked, imagine my surprise when I saw a certain BMW standing in front of The Hideout.”

“Robin–”

“No! Don’t Robin me! Why’d you lie?”

Steve didn’t want her to feel like it’something she had to do, hang out with him, spend his birthday with him because there’s no one else for him other than her. He doesn’t want her to do anything out of pity for him.

He doesn’t feel comfortable to talk about it in front of Eddie or even you, knowing that you pity him the most. You always did and he hated it. A part of him always thought that that’s why you were with him, because you pitied him, the sad boy who was always abandoned by his own parents, because you knew he had no one else that cared about him, that loved him. So you stayed, you stayed even when you shouldn’t have.

Even now, you look at him with those big sad eyes with that look of pity in them.

“Robin,” you warn when you notice how uncomfortable he looks, how he clenches his jaw and bites his lip.

Eddie senses the tension, the looks you are giving Robin, the way she is ignoring you because she desperately wants an explanation from Steve.

“Lay off, Robin. Maybe he just wanted to get a few drinks and not deal with your annoying ass,” he says to her with a grin.

She flips him off, rolling her eyes at him.

“Just relax, here, take my shot and drink it, you need it, Robin,” you say, sliding the shot glass towards her.

She turns towards the two of you, shaking her head with squinted eyes, “you’re both pretty rude.”

“So are you, Robby.”

“Ew,” she scrunches her face up at Eddie, “don’t fucking call me Robby.”

“I’m gonna keep calling you that, if you don’t stop being so rude to sad birthday boy over there.”

Steve sighs, running his hand down his face.

“Can you just call me Steve, dude?”

You giggle at the annoyed look on his face.

Eddie grins, “okay, Steve.”

“Not like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re mocking me!” Steve exclaims.

“How am I mocking you, Steve?”

Steve scoffs, shaking his head, “see, you’re doing it again!”

“Oh my god, shut the hell up!” Robin slams her hands against the table, truly, shutting them both up. “Eddie, get me a drink.”

Both Steve and Eddie look at her as though she had grown two heads, while you giggle at her little outburst.

“That was an order.”

“Damn girl,” Eddie whistles, getting up from his chair, “you need more than one drink,” he mumbles as he walks off.

“You are both two immature idiots,” she groans, burying her hands in her hair.

“You are so mean to me,” Steve mumbles, looking at her in disbelief, “and that on my birthday!”

A smile tugs at your lips, you look between them, chuckling at the way she rolls her eyes at him.

“You know what, I really need a few drinks.”

“Wait, are we actually doing this?” Steve asks, gesturing to the shots on the table.

“What, getting drunk?”

He nods at you.

“Yeah. Just like old times, right?” You smile at him in a way you always used to.

“Just like old times.”

His eyes suddenly flash with amusement, he snorts, “do you remember my fifteenth birthday?”

Your eyes widen as a giggle falls from your lips.

“Of course I remember!”

Robin’s eyes flash with curiosity. There’s things she doesn’t know about yours and his friendship, things neither you or Steve had talked about yet.

“Wait, what happened on your fifteenth birthday?”

Your eyes light up with excitement, you lean closer to the table, looking at Steve, waiting for him to tell the story.

He chuckles at the look on your face before he turns his body towards Robin.

“We stole my dad’s super expensive wine, he was supposed to take it to some event – I got in so much trouble for that, by the way,” he says to you.

“I know, I know. Keep going, Steve.”

“Alright, so, we stole that wine bottle. We played a drinking game, kept passing that bottle back and forth until we were fucking hammered,” he says, chuckling as he thinks back to that day in his backyard. The way you giggled at anything he said, the way you danced and ran around barefoot on the grass, the way you jumped in his pool, fully clothed, the way he hugged you when you were both in the water.

“This crazy girl over there started to cannon ball into my pool–”

You giggle at the memory.

“She did it over and over again and it looked so fun so I joined her. Honestly, it was pretty fun but I had half a bottle of wine and ate a whole pizza before that.”

“Oh,” Robin scrunches her face up, already seeing where this is going.

“Oh, ew! Stop!”

“He threw up in the pool, Robin!”

“That’s so disgusting!” She whines, trying to get the image of Steve puking into the pool out of her head, “you don’t have any better stories to tell?”

You and Steve can’t help but laugh harder at her reaction.

“I mean the kiss on the nose is fucking embarrassing, Steve. But throwing up in front of her afterwards?”

“I thought it was funny,” you giggle.

“What is funny?” Eddie asks when he comes back with two drinks for Robin, placing them on the table and sliding them towards her before he sits down beside you again.

“Trust me, you don’t wanna know,” Robin says with a look of disgust on her face.

“I don’t?” He asks, glancing at you and how amused you look.

“No, you really don’t.”

“Okay,” he snorts.

He glances at Steve, grinning at him, “hey dude, I got a birthday present for you.”

All three of you turn to look at Eddie in surprise, watching him in curiosity when he raises his hand, reaching for something in the pocket of his dark flannel. He picks out a joint, tossing it at Steve who catches it with one hand.

He laughs at that, raising one brow, giving Eddie a smile, “I do appreciate this, it’s kind of expensive nowadays.”

“Is it expensive?” You ask, turning to Eddie, “you always give me some for free.”

Eddie’s lips curl into a smile, he lifts his hand towards your face, tapping your nose with his finger, “well, you’re my best friend.”

Steve keeps his eyes down, not wanting to look between you and Eddie.

You smile at the way Eddie looks at you, the way his eyes glisten, the way his cheeks are always a little red, the way–

“Do you guys wanna smoke this?” Steve asks, cutting the voice in your head.

“Here?”

He chuckles at Robin, “of course not. We could go back to my place, my parents aren’t home, anyways.”

To Eddie’s surprise, he not only directs these words at you and Robin, he also directs them at him.

“Uh, I’d love to!” Robin grins.

Steve gives you a hopeful smile, one that makes it impossible to say no to him.

“Me too.”

At that, his eyes light up and his smile grows bigger.

“Sure, let’s do it.”

“We’ll have to walk though,” Robin gestures to the drink Steve already had, “cause you can’t drive and I don’t have a license.”

He shrugs, “we can take Eddie’s van and I’ll get my car tomorrow morning.”

“Uh, no,” Eddie mumbles, scratching the back of his neck, “my uncle took my van cause his car is at the shop, we walked here.”

Steve sighs, “shit.”

“But you could let me drive, I didn’t have anything yet,” Eddie smirks, pointing to the untouched shots.

Steve snorts at him with a deep glare, “uh, yeah, keep dreaming, Munson,” he mumbles as he leans back, reaching for the keys in his pockets, you all watch him curiously. “The only one who’s allowed to drive my car is dolly.”

Robin raises her brows in surprise when Steve chucks his keys at you that you quickly catch, looking down at them with a dumbfounded expression before your eyes light up and you look up, beaming at Steve.

“Okay, let’s go,” you smile, excitedly as you play with the car keys. You scoot back, getting up from the chair. Robin knocks back one shot before she gets up as well. Steve and Eddie glance at the four untouched shots on the table and then, their eyes meet, they both shrug at each other and reach for two shots, each.

Robin pats Steve’s shoulder, chuckling when he knocks one back and then the other, grimacing at the strong taste.

You giggle at Eddie, who looks unfazed by the bitter taste.

“Let’s go, ladies and.. Steve,” he grins.

“Dude.”

“Don’t start this again,” Robin warns, pointing at them both before she rushes over to you, wrapping her arm around your shoulder, she grins, “us ladies, ride in the front, and you two can cuddle in the back,” she winks at them, pulling you away with a giggle.

After an eventful ride to Steve’s house and a few shots of tequila, you all settled in his backyard, each of you occupying one of the many loungers around the pool. Passing around the joint that Eddie had given Steve as a ‘birthday gift’. You are sipping on a drink that Steve has made for you, coke mixed with his dad’s expensive whiskey. You are pretty sure that you will regret the amount of alcohol and weed you are having tonight, when you wake up tomorrow morning. But the floaty and giddy feeling you are experiencing right now, will have to make up for it.

Steve is sitting on the lounger beside you, a can of beer in his hand, his lips wrapped around the joint that is already stained with your lipstick. A spitcurl is hanging in front of his eyes, he doesn’t bother to push it away. He shakes his head at something Robin had said to him, something you didn’t even hear because you were too busy letting your eyes skip back and forth between him and the curly haired metalhead who now left his lounger to be closer to you.

Eddie wraps his hands around your calves, stroking your skin softly with his ringed fingers as he places your feet on his lap. He does it all without breaking his conversation with Robin. Though he feels the goosebumps on your skin, he hears the breath that hitched in your throat when he touched you. He hides his smirk behind his drink as he takes a sip of the cold beer.

Steve clenches his jaw as he looks between you and Eddie. The way he continues to stroke your calf, the way he smirks at your reaction, the way you are blushing, biting your lip as you look down at the hand touching your skin.

He forces himself to look away, turning back to Robin, he offers her the joint.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, giggling when she almost doubles over as she reaches for the joint.

“Already hammered and we haven’t even played a drinking game yet, tsk,” Eddie shakes his head, giving her a playful grin.

With an eye roll, she gets up, placing the joint between her lips as she sits down next to Steve.

“A drinking game, huh? What kind? ‘Never have I ever’? Okay,” She grins at him without giving him a chance to reply. “Never have I ever had a girlfriend,” she smirks, teasing him.

Steve licks his lips, chuckling at Eddie, who nods at her with an annoyed look on his face.

You raise your eyebrows, “why are you teasing him, I never had a girlfriend, either,” you shrug.

“Yeah but you had a boyfriend,” she mumbles, nudging Steve’s shoulder.

Eddie tilts his head at you, looking you up and down with a smirk, “do you want one?”

Eddie’s lips part, his brown eyes widen, darkening as they do so. He swallows as he continues to stare at you. Millions of questions run through his mind. There are things he doesn’t know about you, yet?

Robin and Steve look at you in surprise.

“Wait, w-what?” He mumbles, laughing nervously.

Robin’s lips curl into a smirk, “you kissed a girl before? Who?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, do tell us your dirty little secrets.”

“Hmm, no,” you smirk, batting your eyelashes at him.

“Was that before or after me?” Steve asks, cheeks flushed red as he tries to fight the images out of his mind.

“Before you,” you giggle.

“Shit, I wanna know who it was.”

“Me too, Eddie,” Robin says. “I know that it wasn’t Chrissy, she’d tell me.”

“Huh, was it another girl from the cheer squad?”

You shake your head at Eddie, biting your lip to keep yourself from laughing.

“Were you close?”

You shrug, nodding your head.

Steve squints his eyes, tilting his head at you.

Robin’s jaw drops a little when she figures it out. There is only one girl that you’re close with that wasn’t in the cheer squad – well, besides her.

“Holy shit,” she mouths at you, grinning.

Steve and Eddie glance at each other in confusion.

It’s amusing how obvious the answer is, yet, neither of them are close to figuring it out.

“If you think kissing a girl is fun, you should try eating one out,” Robin mumbles before she takes a drag from the joint, “it’s the best thing ever.” She blows out the smoke, not noticing the confused frown on your face.

“For once, I have to agree with you, Robin,” Eddie chuckles.

Steve freezes, closing his eyes as he looks down.

“Huh?”

Noticing the look on your face, Robin suddenly regrets opening her mouth about that. Your lips are parted, your eyes filled with confusion and curiosity, your brows are pinched together as you stare at her with a questioning look on your face. She straightens her back, muttering a quiet ‘fuck’ under her breath when she looks at Steve’s embarrassed face.

“What’s that?”

Eddie freezes. The smirk falls from his face, he glances at you, at the clueless, lost look on your face. Oh. Steve had never – fuck. How? If you were his, he’d spend day and night on his knees, worshiping you.

“Huh?” This time, it’s him, whose confused.

You look at him with big and curious eyes.

“What is that, I don’t watch porn.”

“Damn, I guess it’s time to,” Robin mutters through gritted teeth.

“Licking someone’s pussy, sweetheart. And well, fucking one with your tongue.”

Your jaw drops, your cheeks heat up and you stare at him in shock. You look cute like this and he could stare at you forever but, in his state of shock, he slowly turns his head towards Steve, eyes filled with concern, confusion and disbelief, “dude, what is wrong with you?”

Steve, whose face is beet red, glares at him.

“I’m very self conscious of not doing a good job, so–”

“You learn!” Eddie throws his hands up.

“What, Munson, are you the pussy expert or something?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes at him.

You look back and forth between them. Taking in the sight of Eddie’s slightly angered face and Steve’s embarrassed one.

“I have eaten my share of pussy, thank you very much.”

The scoff falls from your lips before you can even stop it. Neither of them acknowledge you though, until you open your mouth. “What, like three?” You scoff, again. “You only fucked three girls, that’s what you told me, unless you lied about that.”

Eddie swallows, glancing at you, he fails to notice just how intense the look in your eyes is.

“There’s a difference between sex and foreplay, sweetheart.”

You bite the insides of your cheeks, swallowing the bitterness on your tongue as you look into his eyes. Not once, had you spent a single second wondering if Eddie was seeing someone, if he was fooling around with girls when he wasn’t with you. But now that you think about it, now that you imagine him with other girls, you suddenly feel the bile rising in your throat. The sickening feeling makes you want to drop to your knees and puke out the waffles you had eaten this morning.

“So, when was the last time you did that then, Eddie?” Robin asks, both curious to know and to see your reaction.

He shrugs, “I don’t know, Buckley. I don’t keep count of how many days–”

“Yes, you do! Men always do!”

He doesn’t feel comfortable sharing that in front of you, but he knows that Robin won’t drop it until she gets an answer she’s satisfied with. Besides, you probably won’t even care. Despite Dmitri’s encouraging words, he still refuses to believe that there are any feelings other than the platonic ones that you feel for him. This won’t hurt you, right?

“Fine! Two or three months ago, happy? Now, Harrington, I think I should teach you some basics.”

You feel as though a cold bucket of water has been dropped on you. Your heart leaps to your throat as your stomach drops. Another wave of sickness floods through you. You stare at him, not noticing Steve’s or Robin’s eyes on you.

When was that? Was it the weekend you couldn’t spend time with him? The night you couldn’t come to his gig? Was it before or after he had gotten angry at you for kissing Steve?

It shouldn’t affect you as much as it does, it shouldn’t make you feel this sick, this jealous. You barely figured out your feelings for him. But the longer you stare at him, listen to his words, you can’t help but feel anger rather than jealousy.

You didn’t have feelings for him back then, or at least, you weren’t aware of them. He’s single and free to do whatever he wants but so are you – so were you when you kissed Steve and yet, he was so angry at you when he found out about it. He treated you so coldly, all because he hated the thought of you kissing Steve. Yet, he was out there fooling around with other girls.

“You have never actually eaten pussy before, dude?” Robin mumbles.

Steve rubs the back of his neck, nervously, “I mean, yeah. Just not–” he pauses with a look of shame in his eyes as he briefly glances at you.

You roll your eyes.

You’re not surprised to hear that, you’re not even hurt. After everything that happened between you and him, his sex life with Nancy is the last thing you had ever worried about. You always knew that he treated her better than he ever treated you.

And, that he tried new things with her isn’t anything shocking to you, anyways.

You open your mouth but before you can say something that might ruin the night, you press your lips together again. Sighing, you look down at your drink. You take a deep breath before you raise the glass to your lips, gulping down the rest of it.

You plaster a smile on your face. Ignoring the concerned looks that Robin is giving you. She thankfully changes the topic. Eddie and Steve, surprisingly fall into yet another conversation.

Their distraction allows you to slip away for a moment, you pass by Robin without meeting her eyes and make a quick escape to the bathroom. Locking yourself into the small room for a moment to collect yourself.

Despite the anger you are feeling, you don’t want to ruin the night for Steve.

You splash some cold water and run your fingers through your hair.

With tears in your eyes, you stare at yourself in the mirror.

Whether it’s tears of anger or tears of sadness. You are sick of it. You are sick of yourself. You are sick of crying. You are sick of the pining, of the jealousy, of the sadness.

Steve had given Nancy everything. He tried new things with her while you were grieving your relationship, crying yourself to sleep and thinking about him like a goddamn fool while he was having the time of his life with a different girl.

And Eddie, you try not to think about it, you try not to let the jealousy in. But you can’t push out the anger that you are feeling for him, right now.

Or the anger that you are feeling for yourself.

How you take everything to heart. How you let everything and everyone hurt you.

You are done.

You are so fucking done.

tagging friends & mutuals

@taintedcigs @mysticmunson @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @succubusmunson @trashmouth-richie @xxhellfirebunnyxx @take-everything-you-can @sherrylyn628 @chrissymjstan @somethingvicked @nemesis729

#steddie x reader #andy⭐️

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