#the older I get the more I realize that honesty is one of the most important traits you can have

[there-will-be-a-way]

Every Saturday and Sunday I go to the clinic to do an alcohol test - because being controlled is the only thing that keeps me sober (this plan was my idea, yes, I got praised for this by the staff 🙌🏻). So today when I went there, I asked to have a talk and confessed that I relapsed. I'm proud that I was honest. Even prouder that I stopped the relapse. I didn't continue drinking today - I genuinely didn't want to which is new.

The nurse thanked me for my honesty and offered that next time I can come over before I relapse and stay the night. Not sure if I'll manage to do that but I can try and it's good to have this option.

[enviedear]

YOU DIDN'T SEE MY VALENTINE (I SENT IT VIA PANTOMIME)

₊ ⊹ JASON TODD

🧸ྀི REQUEST | Could I request Jason Todd being jealous of Dick and reader who is slightly older and he’s harboured a crush on since his Robin days? AND jason todd/reader + jealousy

CW | jealous!jason—nothing crazy, not canon compliant but this is my tl now, some 'will they, won't they', and lots of jason being weird with feelings. 1.2k words. 🎧ྀི

in all honesty, you knew richard grayson before you ever truly knew JASON TODD. he was just a pubescent sidekick the last time you'd seen him—masked in thinly veiled anonymity. both boistful and timid, he always brought a smile out of you—teen angst and all.

but then he died. your life continued, morphing into the blissfully misunderstood present of your early twenties. heroism sits on your backburner, choosing to slow down for a career. normalcy, in a sense. and even though you've more than officially retired from your masked identity, dick grayson still remains everpresent. he offers up unrelenting friendship with ease.

normalcy has faded in recent months. reanimation of a corpse has the tendency to do that. and despite being one of the last to learn of jason's return, you were one of the first for him to turn to, to seek out. his attitude, his spirit, his mere presence—have thrown your life into a complete tailspin.

he usually stops by unannounced, often bloodied and bruised. he's gruff and pointed. no longer timid, but apathetic. far different from the young boy you remember—that scrappy, defiant, and utterly resolved mini hero. back then, you’d barely had time to catch your breath between your own assignments to make any sense of the boy glaring up at you in challenge. always like he had something to prove. his vigor had amused you then, but you couldn’t have known the weight behind it—not then.

now, it feels unavoidable. he doesn't talk about it, but he doesn't have to. it's in the way he carries his shoulders, tense and unsure. the way his once deep blue eyes have recast to a murky blend of frosted jade. he's changed, and yet you're still the one he seeks out. the thought has replayed and plagued your mind for days on end.

the kid you'd known had become something else entirely. taller, broader, with a rigid fixation toward you that feels…alarmingly familiar and unknown all at once. most times, you can't place why—that is, until he reminds you.

“dick’s taking you out again?” his voice cuts through the casual quiet of your apartment, where you’d been getting ready. the sound is rough, almost indifferent.

glancing over your shoulder, you spot jason leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and jaw tight. you never heard him come in, but he hasn't startled you. no, you expected him. you refocus on what he has asked—his question, though simple, has an unmistakable bite to it. you don't let it affect you, not now, or anymore.

at first it was hard to come to terms with the aggravation and disdain riddled within him. it spewed out so easily. now though, you understand it. no part of you enjoys it, but you love him. much more than he can seem to realize—too fractured to see through your companionship. a role reversal of utter hell.

you hesitate, brushing off the strange weight of his stare. “yeah. just dinner. catching up. he's been at work so much recently...”

you see a flicker of something unclear cross jason’s face. it’s quick—but the tension sticks, thick and heavy in the room. it's an old grudge, somehow outliving death. you suppose it makes sense—he spent years begging to patrol with the two of you, just to be firmly told no. he always got so agitated, completely annoyed. it seems he's the same, old habits die hard.

he clears his throat, still glaring severely, “right. catching up.”

there’s that bite again, sharper this time. he’s trying to be casual, but it doesn’t land.

“is something wrong?” you ask, turning to face him fully now, eyebrows raised and tone nearly exasperated.

he shrugs, but his eyes don’t meet yours. they’re focused somewhere over your shoulder. “just seems like dick’s always around, that’s all.”

you blink, surprised. “we’ve been friends for years, jason. you know that.”

“yeah, i know.” his voice is lower now, quieter. “i just…i don’t get why you still hang out with him so much.”

that gets your attention. the tension, the clipped responses—it all clicks into place. you rise, studying him. “are you… jealous?”

the moment the word leaves your mouth, you watch his posture stiffen. his eyes finally meet yours, a mix of frustration and something softer, almost vulnerable, in them.

“no.” he mutters, but it’s not convincing.

“jason.” you sigh, shaking your head. “dick is just a friend.”

“yeah, i know. so why's he’s always taking you out?” he huffs, and there it is—the frustration that had been simmering beneath the surface finally breaking through. “ever since i was a kid, he’s had your attention. i'm just...the other one.”

his words hang in the air, weighted with years of implicit beliefs. suddenly, you understand. this isn’t just about his brother. it’s about everything jason’s never said—the way he’d always felt second to someone else.

you take a step forward, close enough now that you can see the cracks in his bitter expression. and you notice the way he wants to pull back but doesn't—can’t.

“you have never been that to me, jason.” you say softly, your voice steady.

he scoffs, but there’s a flicker of disbelief in his eyes. “yeah? didn’t seem like it.”

“maybe not then, but things are different now.” you say, holding his gaze. “you’re different. we’re different. everything, is different.”

for a moment, jason doesn’t say anything. he just looks at you, really looks at you, like he’s trying to figure out if he should believe you.

“doesn’t feel like it sometimes,” he mutters, quieter now. the tension shifts, softening slightly, though, his guard remains.

you take one last step, close enough that you can reach out and touch him if you wanted to. “jason.” you say, and his name comes out softer than you mean it to. “you have my attention now. not as a kid. not as robin. as you.”

there’s a pause, a beat of silence before he finally drops his eyes. when he looks back at you, there’s a flicker of longing in them, a look almost too vulnerable for the man he's returned as.

“you sure about that?” he asks, his voice quiet, like he’s afraid of the answer.

you nod, and this time, you close the distance. your hands gently tether to his crossed arms, “yeah, i’m sure.”

his muscles tense under your touch—but he doesn’t pull away. instead, his eyes fall to where your hands rest against him, something flickering there. you squeeze his arms lightly, attempting to ground him.

“jason,” you say softly, “i don’t see you the way you think i do. i never have.”

he lets out a rough breath, like he’s been holding it for ages. his gaze is still cast downward, jaw clenched. you wait, patient, giving him the space to find his words.

“i don’t know how to be around you anymore.” he admits, voice barely above a whisper. “i want to be around you, like how dick is. i just...came back wrong.”

the confession rings in your head. you almost feel the weight of it, pressing against the edges of your chest, and your heart aches for him. for the boy he was, the man he’s become, and the space in between where he feels like he’s lost himself.

“you didn’t come back wrong.” you whisper, stepping even closer.

his head tilts slightly, as if he’s processing your words, trying to let them sink in past years of self-doubt.

his hands uncross slowly, falling to his sides, but he doesn’t pull away from you. instead, his right hand reaches up, hesitant at first, before he gently cups the side of your face. fingers brushing your skin with a tenderness you hadn’t expected.

“you sure about that?” he asks again, but this time there’s no malice. less unease.

you nod, your hand coming up to cover his, your voice steady. “yeah. i’m sure, jason.”

almost timidly, he speaks again, "can you just... just tonight, stay here."

you study him as you answer, "why?"

he sighs, eyes flicking to a wall, "grayson's had years to spend with you, i haven't. c'mon, let me take you out instead." he shrugs, looking at you now, "call it making up for lost time."

you can't fight the tug in your chest, and you nod—relenting, "fine." you offer him a small smile, "where are we going?"

you don't catch what he suggests, nodding along. you're too hyperaware of the dimpled smile on his face now. two perfect reminiscent pictures of the sweet kids you used to be. only, this time you're choosing him—and you plan to continue to.

[freelancearsonist]

Whole

Steve Harrington x fem!Reader

Rated MA for the most long-winded poetic smut i've ever written jfc 🤦‍♀️ slow burn fluff with a couple sprinkles of angst for flavor, reader uses fem pronouns and is described as having female parts, it's dirty y'all but at least they use protection

7,470 Words

A/N: you all know my mo by now i disappear for a year and then come back and lay down some god damned PORN. this fic is no exception to the rule. @shakespeareanwannabe requested this back in july and she literally just asked for a cute moment between steve and dustin, sorry you got 6k words more than you bargained for 😂 but also thank you for betaing and the constant validation you're the best ily 🖤

Steve’s not sure how it even worked.

He can still remember the look on Robin’s face when you agreed, how she was speechless for almost ten minutes because she couldn’t process what had just happened.

Steve’s reaction was about the same as hers, in all honesty. He’s gotten so used to striking out that asking people out has become something of a game to him. He knows he’ll get a no, and he knows Robin will laugh her ass off at him. But what can he say? He likes putting a smile on his best friend’s face.

Needless to say, you’ve shaken him. In the best possible way. Because your answer was three letters instead of two.

And now, he's a little bit in over his head.

Or, to be more accurate, a lot in over his head.

It seems like it’s been ages since he’s gone on a date, even though it’s only been a few months at most. He feels lost, like he’s completely unlearned everything he ever knew about girls.

He hates it, despises it with every fiber of his own being, but he also knows it’s true; he needs advice. And although he’ll never admit it to the little shithead’s face, there’s no one better he can think of going to than his very own protege. Who better to remind him of his own prowess than the person who learned everything they know from him?

One look at Dustin’s smug little face and Steve almost regrets it. Almost.

“Just can’t stay away, can you?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve rolls his eyes and gives the younger boy a little shove, camouflaging it with an affectionate pat on the back. “This is strictly business, Henderson.”

“Oh, is it now?” The younger boy’s voice takes on a smug tone as he folds his fingers together and leans back in his chair. “Well then, why don’t you have a seat? Step into my office.”

Steve rolls his eyes and slides into the booth, shooting a smile and a “thank you” to the kind waitress who delivers two milkshakes to their table.

Dustin takes his time and makes a meal of unwrapping his straw, feeding off of Steve’s clear impatience Steve’s fingers tap against the table, reminding himself that patience is necessary when you come to someone for a favor. It’s just that it’s Dustin, and Dustin knows exactly how to get under the older boy’s skin in the most annoying-yet-oddly-endearing fashion.

“So…” Dustin finally says after a lengthy sip of strawberry milkshake. “What brings you so humbly to me?”

“I’ve got a date.”

And Dustin, the little bastard–he laughs. A deep, rumbling belly laugh, so pure and unfiltered that the three other occupied tables in the diner pause their conversations to get a look at the boy clutching his sides.

Steve’s a little embarrassed by the attention, but even more embarrassed that Dustin’s reaction is so genuine. The fact that the idea of him having a date is so laughable is a bit of a punch to the gut. It hasn’t really been that long, has it?

When Dustin’s laughter finally dies down he realizes Steve’s face is completely serious, and it makes him giggle even more.

“Wait, you’re actually serious? Who on earth did you manage to pull?”

Steve’s nearly bashful as he says your name, and even more bashful when Dustin’s jaw visibly drops.

“No fucking way. I’d believe anyone else, but her? She’s like… hotter than Phoebe Cates. There’s no way you wouldn’t strike out with her.”

Steve’s immediately on the defensive. Is it really so hard to believe that he, former king of Hawkins High, could pull the most gorgeous girl in town?

But that’s just it. There’s really no one like you, not in his eyes. He’s admired you since freshman year and never once even tried with you because he knew he wasn’t worthy. You were always in the background–a beautiful, kind, smart, funny girl just out of his reach. Part of the reason he even asked you out was because he was so sure he would strike out. In the end, losing his confidence was exactly what he needed to pull the girl of his dreams.

And that’s why there’s so much riding on this. You’ve always been his biggest “what if”, the girl he wonders about when thinking that maybe not trying has been holding him back. And apparently, it has.

“Look, I don’t even know how it happened, okay? But she said yes, and… and I really don’t want to blow it.”

“Well duh. You’ll have to leave town if you blow it with her, you know that, right? If she doesn’t think you’re worth it, no one else in this town ever will again.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of!” Steve groans, slouching down so far in the booth that Dustin can just barely see his poor, overwhelmed face.

“Steve, listen…” Dustin’s voice takes on an almost fatherly quality, an omniscient tone that gives off the illusion of great hidden knowledge. He gets like this sometimes, and Steve’s not always sure that it is just an illusion. “Don’t let this go to your head, but you’re, like, one of the coolest guys I know. If she doesn’t like you… that’s her problem, not yours. Okay?”

Steve straightens in his seat, a little shocked to hear such kind words from a friend that he’s used to being mercilessly teased by.

“No, no, no, it’s going to your head. I take it all back. Forget I said anything.” Dustin’s hearty giggle makes Steve smile as he sets a wad of bills on the table and slides out of the booth.

“You’re not so bad Henderson, you know that?” He gives the younger boy’s full head of curls an affectionate ruffle. “Thanks, kid. I’ll radio later.”

Not that Steve didn’t have total faith in his young protege, but it’s still a relief that the pep talk turned out to be exactly what he needed to hear. Dustin’s right, after all. Steve’s worked hard to become the man he’s always wanted to be. He may not be dripping charisma or sex appeal the way he used to, but he’s much more comfortable in his own skin. That’s what counts, right?

And you really are his dream girl. The opportunity to take you out tonight, even if it ends up being your first and only date together, is an honor. He’s much less focused now on all the ways he could screw up, hyper-fixated on putting the effort in to make this the best night of your life.

That effort comes out in the carefully selected suit jacket he dons over his white button-up, the extra spritz of cologne, the careful touch-up shave to vanquish his five o’clock shadow, the extra ten minutes using the perfect amount of product in his hair so that it stays in place yet is still soft to the touch.

By the time he gets to Enzo’s (half an hour early, mind), he’s practically vibrating with nerves and anticipation. He’s never been much of an overthinker, but he sure is tonight. Is this place too much for the first date? Would you rather do something lowkey, like catch a movie or go for a walk in the park? He has to remind himself a couple of times that you agreed to this, that you wouldn’t have said yes if you weren’t interested in the arrangement.

To say he’s prepared for this is putting it lightly. He’s run through every possible scenario in his mind, gone over conversation starters and questions he wants to ask you over and over again until he knows exactly how he wants to phrase each thing.

And still, nothing could prepare him for when you walk through the door.

He has to physically restrain his jaw from dropping because in the moment he sees you, every well-planned thought and all etiquette is flushed down the proverbial pipes. You’re nothing short of breathtaking in a dress that hugs all the right curves and shows just enough cleavage to have him imagining what else there might be to see. Your hair is pinned back out of your face, eyes framed by just the slightest bit of makeup to make the color of your irises pop. He swears he’s never seen a shade quite like them. It’s like you move in slow motion as you approach him–he sees the entrance of the smoking hot love interest in every romantic comedy, complete with smoke and fireworks, as you move towards the table.

And then some sense of decorum returns to his addled brain, and he quickly shoots up so he can pull out your chair for you like a proper gentleman. He catches just the slightest whiff of your perfume, and he’s a goner. He’s ready to sign his life away to you, to yank his own heart out of his chest to offer to your careful hands.

He has to give his head a shake to compose himself before he goes any further off the deep end. No one’s ever thoroughly shaken him the way you have, and it’s been a matter of thirty seconds. It’s almost intimidating, the effect you have on him.

“You look… incredible,” he fumbles as he takes his seat across from you. “I mean, you always do, but… wow.”

The shy giggle you emit tugs at a heartstring he didn’t even know he had.

“Thank you,” you tell him with a genuine smile. “You clean up very well yourself.”

“I do like to put in some effort every once in a while.” He flashes the most charming smile he can muster, and just like that he’s back. His resolve to impress you is reinforced tenfold. You’ve shaken him, and it’s such an unfamiliar feeling that he’s practically bumbling. He wants to shake you just as badly.

The food’s delicious, and the conversation’s even better. He has a track record for taking out a more–for lack of a better term–bimbo-y type, and that’s definitely not you. You’re smart, you’re witty, but you don’t make him feel like an idiot. He’s so taken with you that he doesn’t even notice that three hours have passed until he looks around the room and notices that every table is now empty and bussed.

The waiter delivers the check, and Steve notices you gnawing on your lip.

“What’s on your mind?” He asks, trying not to be too prying.

“I don’t want this to be over yet.”

Steve smiles. He’s got you; hook, line, and sinker. He’s never been so sure of anything, and that surprises him. He’s used to dates who are easy to read and even easier to take home, and those aren’t the impressions you’ve been giving him. To know that you’re feeling exactly what he’s feeling is a huge confidence boost.

“I don’t either.”

Your hand is so small compared to his. That’s all he can think about as he strolls next to you, his fingers intertwined with yours. He’s always considered hand-holding to be child’s play, it’s never excited him before the way it does in this moment with you.

It’s pitch black in the park and he can hear the overlapping chirping of summer cicadas and grasshoppers, the perfect background noise now that the conversation has died down. It’s less about getting to know each other at this point and more just basking in each other’s presence, prolonging the inevitable because neither one of you can bear to call it a night when it’s been such a good few hours.

You’re shocked, to say the very least. Steve certainly has a reputation, and it’s not for being a romantic. Yet everything tonight has flown in the face of all the rumors you’ve been hearing since junior high. You figured he’d be a fun fling, and probably only one night at that–you’d made your peace with the idea. To find that he’s kind, considerate, funny, and can match your intellect and quick wit… it’s a very pleasant surprise. And that’s what has you out well past a decent hour, giddy over simply holding his hand like you’re a damned school girl all over again.

“I should probably let you go home,” Steve sighs wistfully. He hates to be the one to bring it up, but you’re on your fifth lap around the park and about to circle back to where your car is parked so now seems the best time.

You’re chewing your lip again, a thoughtful habit that makes his heart pound just a little bit harder.

Here’s the thing: you’re really not the bold type. You act confident, sure, but in practice it’s a lot more difficult for you. So no one’s more surprised than you are when you say, “You could come home with me. If you want.”

Steve’s definitely shocked, too. Less shocked at your proposition and more at the fact that he’s tempted to decline. Because no matter how much he’s been running through the back of his mind what you might look like under that gorgeous dress, he doesn’t want this to end there. For the first time in his life, he wants to find more meaning than sex out of a relationship. He doesn’t want to take you home and never see you again. He wants to take you out again, and again, and again, and again after that. He sees a future, for once, that doesn’t look dim and hopeless. That fact alone scares the shit out of him.

He realizes he’s waited way too long to reply and fumbles for an answer. “Of course I want to. I’d be an idiot not to. But…”

You chew that cursed bottom lip of yours again, and Steve has to focus on the obvious cue you’re giving him rather than the fact that he wants to be the next set of teeth around that lip.

He stops in his tracks, gently pulling on your hand to face him so he can take your other hand in his free one. “It’s not a bad but. I mean, I’m going to go home kicking myself for saying no because I really honestly do want to… well, y’know. But… I want to do this right with you. I want to take you out again. I want to get to know you and see where this goes. I can’t… I don’t want this to end tonight.”

He’s eternally grateful for how dark it is as he feels a flush consume his face. He can’t remember a time he’s been so honest and open, especially on a first date; but the look on your face tells him he’s done something right.

“Okay,” you tell him, squeezing his hands in yours. “You… honestly have no clue how nice it is to hear that.”

“Of course,” he continues, “if you just want me for my body, no hard feelings.”

You laugh at that, genuinely laugh, and Steve thinks it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

“No,” you reassure him. “No, I… I wanna see where this goes, too.”

You’re stopped only a few paces from your car, and Steve knows with a twist of his gut that this is the end of the night. It makes his gut turn with disappointment, but also with anticipation of when he’ll see you next. Already, his mind is flooding with ideas of where he can take you and what you’ll do together.

You drop one of his hands so you can walk but keep a tight grip on the other until you get to your driver’s side door, hesitating outside because you’re still not ready for this to be over. It takes every ounce of restraint he has not to kiss you, unsure of if that would be moving too fast.

Thankfully, you make the call yourself. Leaning up on your toes, hands against his chest for balance, you press your lips against his and he has to summon every mite of strength not to moan. No one’s ever tasted so sweet, molded against him so perfectly. His hands drift from your shoulders down your arms, coming to rest on your waist as he pulls you just a little bit closer. It’s a fight of will not to overstep, to break off the kiss before it can become too heated. His mind is spinning by the time you break away. He’s aching for more, and he hopes you are too. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Steve.”

Your sweet voice replays in his mind all night, long after you’ve gotten into your car and driven away, long after he’s returned to his own vehicle and pulled the radio out from under the driver’s seat to check in with Dustin, long after he arrives home and soaks in a cold shower for longer than he probably should. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get your voice out of his head, and he couldn’t be any less upset about it.

He practically counts down the minutes until he sees you again. This time, he has a little less restraint. He greets you with a kiss–a sweet peck and a hand on your waist that leaves you aching for even more.

It’s a movie this time, a chance to enjoy each other’s company on a night you’re both too tired from working to engage in heavy conversation and getting to know each other further.

It starts with sharing popcorn, then holding hands, then somewhere along the way the film is completely forgotten in favor of your lips meeting his. His breath grows heavy as his hands hold your face, committing you to memory while resisting the urge to explore further. Your hands, meanwhile, are firmly on his thighs, gripping tightly to keep yourself steady as you do everything you can to keep yourself from crawling into his lap.

He whispers your name, and your grip on him tightens.

“W-we shouldn’t…” he murmurs, then gives up on the futile attempt at finishing his sentence so that he can pull you even deeper into the kiss as his tongue sweeps across your bottom lip.

It takes everything in him not to moan when your lips eagerly part to accept him.

Needless to say, once the credits start rolling you’re both more than a little hot under the collar.

“Let me buy you dinner,” Steve suggests as he woefully unwinds himself from you. Declining doesn’t even flicker through your mind as a possibility.

It’s not Enzo’s this time, but it doesn’t have to be. He could set a soggy peanut butter and jelly sandwich in front of you at this point and you’d still thank him for it. This time around, you’re not really as interested in the cuisine as you are just simply getting through this meal to what’s next. Because what’s next is all you’ve been thinking about since you walked through the doors the night of that very first date and saw Steve Harrington wearing a blazer for you. It’s a level of effort he’s definitely not known for–in fact, he’s built a reputation for putting in so little effort that it nearly made your jaw drop to see him trying. And it certainly made your heart skip a beat.

But then again, the Steve before you carelessly wolfing down his bacon cheeseburger seems very different from the Steve you knew in high school, even if you didn’t know that iteration as intimately as this one. That one was cool, collected, snarky and pompous and maddeningly desirable.

This Steve, your Steve, is nearly an exact foil. Much less cocky, a little less confident but more self-assured in the ways that actually hold meaning, less worried about what the people around him are observing of him than what you’re observing of him. He seems happier, more carefree, more eager to please others than simply himself. He’s grown so much in such a short amount of time, and you feel proud just for having the honor to witness it. Significantly more proud to be on the receiving end of his affections now that they hold the kind of value you’ve always wished they would.

He looks up and notices you staring at him while lost in thought, a small smile spreading across his lips as your eyes quickly dart away.

“What’s on your mind?” He questions as he licks a stray bit of ketchup from his thumb.

“Just… happy I’m here. With you.” It brings heat to your cheeks to admit it, but you don’t want him to go unappreciated in this moment.

It’s the right thing to say, because his smile grows even wider. “I’m happy too,” he admits. “I… I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while. Could never work up the courage, I guess.”

“Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington was intimidated by me?” You say it with a mock gasp, but your shock is more genuine than you give off. Never in a million years would you have thought that he, the man who could have whoever he wanted, would be worried over you saying no to him. It’s almost comical, especially considering the way you practically threw yourself at him on your first date. Of course then, you had no clue how much he’d developed as a person. You’re almost ashamed of your behavior now, as if you might’ve inadvertently been taking advantage of the new and improved Steve who isn’t just into you for a hookup.

He shrugs, nearly bashful at your teasing. “Never figured I was good enough for you. So I didn’t bother to try.”

You’re genuinely curious now, leaning in a little closer and brushing your fingers against his hand resting atop the diner counter. “What made you change your mind?”

“Honestly? I was so sure you’d say no that I asked just to give Robin a chuckle. She loves watching me get shot down.”

That makes you frown, and he’s quick to backtrack. “I wanted to! I just… I’ve had a bad track record lately. And you’re… you’re you. You’re the last person I should be worthy of.”

His eyes are quick to avert from your gaze, bottom lip tugged between his teeth as he contemplates whether he’s said too much.

“Steve…” you properly grab his hand now in the hopes that it’ll bring his eyes back to you, and it works. “You’re the only person I’ve deemed worthy in a long time, honestly.”

Steve Harrington is scaldingly warm. It’s one of many sensations forcing your mind into overdrive as he lays you delicately across the backseat of his beemer, one hand cushioning the back of your head while simultaneously deepening the already heated kiss and the other balancing his weight to lean over you in the cramped space without completely crushing you.

Your fingers tangle themselves into his soft brown locks, tugging ever-so-slightly as his tongue slips between your parted lips. He’s an eager explorer and you’re more than happy to let him take the lead, to show you all the skill you’ve heard so many whispers about.

You let out an involuntary moan as he wedges himself even closer to you, his body heat soaking through all the layers of clothing between the two of you and warming you all the way to your very bones.

You’re practically aching, ready to beg, and he knows it the second you wrap your legs around his waist in an attempt to get him even closer. If there’s one thing Steve Harrington’s good at, it’s assessing your needs. He pulls away just the slightest bit to adjust his position so he can get closer, wedging a knee between your legs to press right against your core, and it makes you jolt back against the car door at the same time his head hits the roof just a bit too hard.

You both pause for a moment, the reality of your situation hitting you simultaneously, and then you’re laughing. It’s light and edged with unresolved want, but it’s enough to fracture the tension of the moment.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Shouldn’t have gotten so carried away. This isn’t how I want to do this.”

“No?”

“No. You deserve way better than this old beater,” he chuckles, then leans down to kiss you. This kiss is lighter, no longer edged with tension and lust. He kisses you just to kiss you–there’s no end goal to it this time.

“What could be better than a BMW?” You tease lightly, trying to reassure him that you’re less disappointed than you really feel.

“You know. Something romantic. A proper bed, rose petals, maybe a few candles…”

“I don’t need all that,” you try to tell him.

“I think I do,” he admits. And that’s enough to pull you back, to remind you that you need to be patient and grateful that he values you so much as to want to do this whole thing properly. That his affection is something to be cherished, not taken for granted.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean to be pushy.”

“Please don’t apologize.” He hesitates to untangle himself from you, even though he knows he needs to. “I want this just as bad. I just… I need it to be right.”

“As long as I have you, it’ll be right,” you reassure. “I hope you know that.”

He presses his lips to yours again, a slow and passionate kiss that he hopes communicates every bit of adoration he feels for you in this moment.

“It’ll be perfect. I swear,” he vows. You’ve never believed anything more whole-heartedly than you do this promise. 

~~~

“Wait, you’re telling me that you literally had her under you and you stopped?” Robin’s halfway through chewing a mouthful of popcorn and the absolute carnage inside her agape mouth makes Steve give her a light shove.

“It’s not polite to talk with your mouth full, y’know.”

“It’s not polite to blue-ball either!” She shoots back in utter disbelief.

“How do you think I felt? I was this close,” he holds his thumb and index finger barely millimeters apart, “to sealing the deal.”

She just shakes her head. “You, Steve Harrington, are a genuine, bonafide idiot.”

She’s not telling him anything he doesn’t know. It’s been three days since the aborted fling in the backseat of his car, and he’s barely thought of anything else. Especially since you’ve been away from home both of the past nights when he’s called. He’s starting to worry you’ve gotten the wrong impression, that he’s not interested or that he’s toying with you. It’s the exact opposite. He wants nothing more than to know you in the most intimate way he can know you. But he needs it to be flawless. He needs it to be well thought-out and precisely planned, the most romantic event in the history of copulation. He won’t settle for anything less, not with you. You deserve perfection, and he won’t give you anything less.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he tries to explain. “I want to more than anything. But if you’re gonna go to town on a goddess, you need to do some worshiping, y’know? I don’t feel like I’ve done enough.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you hear this admission. You weren’t sure what to expect–worried that maybe visiting him at work was an overstep–but hearing him call you a goddess certainly wasn’t on your radar.

“You’ve done more than enough, Steve.”

The sound of your voice makes Steve jump and whirl around, oblivious to Robin’s sly smirk and mumbled excuse of needing to attend to something in the back room.

“H-hey!” He squeaks, then clears his throat in an attempt to get his tone back to its normal octave. “What… what’re you doing here?”

“Oh, just came to pick up a tape,” you tease. “But mostly I came to see you.”

“Me?” He takes a moment to ground himself, loosening his too-tight grip on the counter. “I mean… I tried to call you last night. And the night before?”

Your brow furrows. “Really? I didn’t get your message.”

Because he didn’t leave one. He clears his throat and says, “I just figured you were busy.”

“Oh, well, I volunteer at the animal shelter on Wednesdays, and last night was my friend’s 21st birthday. I’m sorry I missed you, though.”

He can tell that you’re really remorseful, and it makes his heart squeeze in his chest a little bit. He plays it off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “No, it’s fine, it’s… are you free tonight?”

You giggle at the abrupt redirect, but he’s played directly into your hand.

“Yeah, actually. I was hoping maybe you could help me pick out something for us to watch tonight? If you’re free too, that is.”

His dark eyes blink slowly, wondering if you’re aware of the implication behind your completely innocent words. You. Him. A movie. Alone. It’s enough to make his head spin. 

“I’ve never been freer.”

Conveniently, you’ve come in close enough to the end of his shift that by the time you’re done combing through Family Video’s vast selection for the perfect film to use as background noise, Steve’s ready to clock out. And since you walked over after finishing your own shift at the local dollar store up the street, it works out perfectly that he can give you a ride straight to his place.

You only glance in the backseat once, but it’s enough to get your mind churning. Remembering the feeling of him, of what could’ve been. Anticipating what will be.

“Parents home?” You ask as he pulls into his driveway and parks, trying to sound casual and utterly failing.

“Nope,” he answers easily. “Took a detour to Cabo on their way home from Hawaii.”

“Sounds glamorous. You opted out?”

“I’d rather be here in Hawkins with you than on a beach alone anyday.”

He must know the effect his words have on you. Surely he can hear the way your heart picks up pace as he looks at you with those dark, affectionate eyes.

“So… this is home.” He waves a hand around the entrance hall like it’s a shabby nightmare, not the grandest house you’ve ever been in.

“I’m starting to understand why they used to call you King Steve.”

He’s almost embarrassed at the mention of that old high school nickname. “Trust me, this isn’t why.”

“Well, a palace does befit you,” you tell him with a smirk.

“Stop, you’re gonna make me blush.” The wink he shoots you makes your gut erupt with butterflies, a sensation that would normally make you a little uncomfortable. With Steve, you’d take the butterflies all day long.

He gives you a cursory and oversimplified tour of the ground floor before leading you upstairs, and suddenly he’s sheepish. It’s been a few moons since he shared his room with a girl, so the nerves are justified. But that’s too simple an explanation. You’re not a girl. You’re his dream, his muse, his–to re-quote himself–goddess. No one he’s ever cared about more has stood where you’re standing, and it terrifies him.

He hides it well, though, busying himself with making a comfortable nest for you in his bed before setting up the television set on the dresser against the far wall. If ever there was a time to regain his confidence, it’s now. He curses whatever god there is that he feels like a fumbling virgin in this moment when nothing is even happening, when just the anticipation is enough to make his hands tremble.

There’s no more stalling once you’re comfortable and the tape is set to play. His heart pounds to the steady and frantic rhythm of one of those heavy rock songs Dustin listens to now as he sits next to you, hands itching to take a hold of you but also eager not to move too fast.

Almost as if you can sense his hesitation, you reach over and take his hand. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

And so he does, and the second his lips slot to yours all the worry and anxiety is gone. He’s Steve Harrington, and he knows what he’s doing. You’re you, and he’s wanted this for so long. After years of being lost, he deserves to finally find the love he’s been looking for. He’s never been so sure of anything as he is, in this moment of initial clarity, that he’s in love with you.

He can’t say it, not yet. He’s sure it’s too soon, and the last thing he wants is to scare you off. But he’s determined to prove it to you, and the only way besides words is action.

He can handle action.

There’s no more restraint or hesitation behind his touch. This is it, this is what you’ve both been waiting for. There’s no way in hell he’s not going to deliver now. He’s desperate for you, and it shows in the heavy way his hands drag along your curves whilst committing you to memory; the way his tongue languidly swipes across your bottom lip; the way he shifts effortlessly to hover over you even while deepening the kiss.

He’s overwhelming every single sense of yours in such a sudden fashion, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. Especially not when his hips meet yours in a deliciously slow grind and you finally get your first little taste of what’s to come.

He keens at the little breathless whimpers that leave your mouth, reading every single signal you provide him with and accommodating each. Moaning? He continues what he’s doing, intensifying if deemed necessary. Whining? He adds something, because he knows it’s hard to use your words when you’re wanting so badly. Squirming? He pays attention to the direction of your movement and pulls away or presses closer depending on necessity. It’s down to science for him; he only really cared about extracurriculars in school anyway, and this was certainly his favorite.

But then he comes to his senses–while he doesn’t pull away completely, he needs to clear his mind and he does so by letting up a bit, allowing the kiss to become languid and the heat to extinguish a bit. It only makes you whine more, and Steve curses his damned formula. You shouldn’t be part of an equation. You’re everything he’s ever wanted, and every aspect of your relationship so far has been a new experience for him. He needs this particular activity to be different too. No formulas or calculations. Just you and him and whatever happens naturally.

Clearly you can hear the cogs in his mind turning. You pull away with a concerned look on your face and ask, “what’s on your mind?”

Now’s not the time to hide anything from you, he reasons with himself. He wants to be authentic with you, and part of that means telling the truth, even if it’s not something particularly comfortable.

“I’m… falling into a routine. And I don’t want to,” he admits. He sighs and leans back, one hand dragging through his shaggy and disheveled hair, sure that he’s going to ruin the mood if he carries on like this. But he refuses to back away from the truth now. “This… it’s always been like…. Like a series of checkpoints. Boxes to check, y’know? Kiss you, take your clothes off, make you come, fuck you, say goodnight. And I don’t want… I can’t let it be like that with you. I need this to be… real. Not just some list to cross shit off of. I don’t–”

Steve takes a long, shaky breath before he can ramble on anymore. Never has someone so thoroughly gotten under his skin. He’s never felt so insecure, so unsure. It’s terrifying. The most terrifying part of it all, though, is that he likes it. He loves the feeling of the unfamiliarity, of doing this right. In a way, it’s almost like he’s doing all of this for the first time all over again. You’re his first date, first kiss, first time. All because he’s changed so drastically, because he’s not even remotely the same person he was just a year or two ago.

Your hands are so gentle as you cup his face, tenderly forcing his eyes to meet yours.

“Steve… we don’t have to do this, not if you’re not ready. I want to be with you, not just for this, but for everything. Everything that comes with you… that’s what I want. There’s no pressure. I would wait a hundred years for you to be ready so long as I could still have you.”

Steve’s breath shakes a little as he comprehends the gravity of your words. There’s nothing he can say that can properly convey the gratitude he holds for your words, so he says nothing at all.

In his silence, you continue. “You’re more than a body, you know that, right? You’re funny, and kind, and smart. Yes, smart, don’t look at me like that. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted to be close to. I just… I want to spend time with you. I want to watch stupid movies and eat diner food until we get sick and laugh at your stupid jokes… and maybe make love with you, sure, but that’s pretty low on the list as long as I just get to be with you.”

He doesn’t notice the tears until it’s too late–by the time you’re wiping them from the apples of his cheeks it’s far too late to take them back or hide them. With anyone else, he would be angry; at himself, for allowing himself to be so vulnerable. For allowing himself to be so emotional. With you, though… with you, his emotions make him feel strong. 

For the first time since you walked into his life, he’s not scared of losing you.

“I love you,” he tells you. His voice is firm, as fierce as the kiss he presses to your mouth, as powerful as the waves of emotion vibrating through his very soul. “I love you so much.”

He barely gives you a chance to reply, as keen as he is on physically proving his love to you through myriad passionate kisses that leave you breathless. But when you finally get the chance to use your voice after a barrage of kisses that start to trail down your neck, you whisper, “I love you too.”

Four words, and they’re all he needs to quell every worry or fear he’s had over doing this relationship properly with you. Why should he have to worry, after all, when he’s already succeeded? 

“I love you,” he whispers as he trails down your neck and to your chest, leaving tender love bites on the tops of your breasts once he’s properly liberated you from your shirt.

“I love you,” he mumbles through sucking a mark a few inches north of your navel.

“I love you,” he murmurs when his lips meet your waistband. His fingers make quick work of your pants as he scatters kisses over your stomach, unable to part his mouth from your skin for even a moment.

“I love you,” he affirms as his mouth meets your hot and waiting core.

There’s no more checklist. Because this isn’t simply sex, as it always has been for him in the past. This is love-making: the kind of sappy shit they talk about in all those Hallmark movies that he rolls his eyes at the sight of. It’s like losing his virginity all over again.

He understands the old adage of “the other half” now. You’ve ripped him to shreds and sewed him back together with strands of yourself. The end result is better than the original ever could’ve even dreamed to be. He’s sure he couldn’t possibly live without you now, that losing you would be like ripping out fresh and unhealed stitches.

You’re not sure how long he camps out between your trembling thighs, but it’s long enough for you to lose count of the number of times he pulls you apart–first with his languid tongue; then his long, curved fingers; then a combination of the two. It’s like he loses himself completely in your pleasure, not a single thought in his head except what he can do to bring you to the edge again, and again, and again.

You’re trembling with oversensitivity by the time his own needs overtakes his desperation to unravel you. So out of it that you feel drunk, like Steve’s laced you with absolute bliss so pure you can barely stand it.

You’re hardly present enough to appreciate the adonis before you when he finally undoes his own jeans, and that’s a damned shame because he’s so damned pretty. Long and thick, flushed at the girthy tip from his hitherto unacknowledged arousal. His lean thighs are pure muscle, and the dark thatch of hair that trails south from his navel makes your mouth water. He’s everything you dreamed he’d be and so much more.

“Steve…” You don’t know what else you can possibly say. All you can do is vainly hope that one whine of his name can convey all of the heat, frustration, tension, and above all longing, swirling through your head in the moment.

He breaks from his lustful reverie for a moment to smile as he leans in for another heated kiss; you think it’s safe to say you’ve gotten your point across.

He slows from his mania for a few moments, lips tender as they explore against yours once more. These kisses are languid, slow, yet no less heated. Even now, he’s trying to prove his love to you. As if you could somehow not believe him after everything that’s happened, every small moment you’ve spent with him witnessing how hard he’s trying for you.

Somewhere in between kisses he manages to wrestle a condom out of his nightstand, miraculously without ever breaking from your lips.

Now is where you cut in, finally fading out of your over-pleasured fugue and back to reality. You take the little foil packet from his hands and tear it open, eager for this small chance to finally get a hand or two on him.

He lets out the most gorgeous noise you’ve ever heard as you roll the rubber down his length; a deep, earthy, diaphragmatic moan just from the simple touch of your hand. You want to touch him even more, to wrest out more of those sounds from him; to see what other undiscovered responses you can pull from him as you pleasure him. But you know that now, he needs to set the pace. He believes he has something to prove, and you’re more than happy to let him prove it. There will be plenty of other opportunities to have him completely at your mercy, anyway.

There’s no way to describe the feeling as he slides into you. It’s more than bliss, more than euphoria, more than earth-shattering toe-curling mind-altering pleasure. It’s nothing more than feeling whole. Of never knowing you were missing a part of yourself until it’s suddenly returned to you. Of never knowing what home felt like until this exact moment.

Maybe it’s overdramatic. Maybe it’s outlandish and outrageous and a million other adjectives to feel something so overpowering and overwhelming from such a seemingly simple physical act. But in this moment, you know you’ve never felt anything as right as being connected to Steve in this way.

His lips hardly leave yours while he rolls his hips against you, easily finding the perfect angle to make your breath hitch and your hands scrabble for purpose.

It admittedly doesn’t last long, but it doesn’t have to. Once you start to tighten and pulse around him, he’s a goner–deep purposeful thrusts turning to hard, arrhythmic plunges in desperate search of release.

You’re still shaking from your high when he slowly pulls out of you. He keeps you close, arms linked around your waist and dragging you to lay on his chest as he flops back against the pillows. 

You’re not sure how long you lay like that, with Steve whispering sweet nothings into your hair and pressing absentminded kisses to your face. All you can really focus on is one all-consuming, life-changing fact.

“I love you, Steve Harrington.”

“I love you too,” he whispers back. He kisses you again, just a simple peck on your lips, and you know that he’s telling the truth. It’s an eternal truth: one that can’t be changed or altered in any way. Steve Harrington loves you with every fibre of his being, and he will for the rest of his life–even if you’re both blissfully unaware of it for now.

THE END

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[soracities]

since this seems like a place full of wise and whimsical people: i'm constantly seeing pleas online for young depressed people to remember that the freedom of adulthood and maturing into a fully realized person is infinitely better than adolescence (especially in the context of queerness which does make sense to me.) but i look at the actual real adults i know in my family and they're all constantly stressed by money, they wish they had chosen different things in life, they miss being taken care of as children, and honestly they're still really immature on some levels. i'm getting very close to leaving home and it seems like i'm missing most of the maturing experiences that other people get; it's never been logistically viable for me to have a job or a car, and i've never had to feed myself day by day. is there something i need to be doing now that will give me a genuinely freeing and fulfilling experience as an independent adult?

Every adult you meet (and you and your friends will be included in this), regardless of maturity level, is a former child in some regard; and as such how they act, respond, and cope with the world around them is a throwback to whatever they still carry from their childhood, or from the things that impacted them most in life, and whether or not they were able to adequately deal with them (and some do deal with them, and some refuse, and some are just in circumstances that make it difficult to even begin with).

I think what people mean when they say adulthood is better than adolescence is that the world get bigger, wider, and more interesting as you get older. It becomes less insular and all the things that preoccupy you most when you're 17 or 15 or that feel like the end of the world become diminished because you have a larger frame of reference for that world that goes beyond your school / friends / immediate family etc. It doesn't mean adulthood is not without difficulty, but simply that you won't be 17 forever. And as such you won't be stuck with all the things you hate about yourself at 17 forever either.

I don't know if there are any specific things you can do, because freeing and fulfilling mean different things to different people. There are some experiences / realisations you can only have when you are out on your own, true--but I also think maturity or maturing events are not necessarily only external ones, though those have an impact too: they come from getting to know yourself, facing your insecurities and flaws and limitations with unfiltered honesty and learning to understand these and work through them and learning to do the same with other people, too. Those external experiences can only go so far if you don't have the tools to fully apply what you learn from them.

In the end, the only thing I can really advise, if you have the time and the means, is to devote yourself to some kind of volunteering or community work. I think a great deal of growth comes out of the time you devote not so much to yourself but to others. It will also give you the opportunity to meet and learn from other people whom you may not have the chance to meet in your day-to-day school life. If you're really looking to broaden your experiences of the world around you, then this is one of the most important, in my view at least. Best of luck with it all, anon xx

[steddieas-shegoes]

homework

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'let's talk about that'

rated t | 990 words | no cw | tags: therapy, gareth pov, personal growth, self-discovery

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Gareth hates therapy.

Okay, hate might be a strong word.

He dislikes it strongly and wishes he could just write in a journal or something.

“Let’s talk about that some more,” the therapist, Jessica, smiled encouragingly.

“Talk about what?” He genuinely has no clue what she wants to hear more about.

“Your need for validation from your bandmates.”

Oh. That.

He wouldn’t really call it a need. He just doesn’t ever do anything that they’d dislike him doing. Even if it would make him happy.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You mentioned that sometimes you have ideas for songs, but you know one of them won’t like it, so you don’t suggest it. Why don’t you give it a try even if they don’t like it?” She clarified.

“It’s not that easy.”

“Why not?”

“Because Jeff and Eddie basically run the band. They come up with most of the shit we do, I just add the drums,” he explained. “It’s worked that way this long, why disrupt the flow?”

“Do they tell you not to give your opinion?”

“Of course not. They always ask what I think.”

“And you choose to not give them honesty.”

“I…”

He didn’t realize that’s what was happening. And he hates that it took a therapist to figure it out.

“I’m not lying to them!” He rushed to say.

“Maybe not. But you’re not being completely truthful, either. Do you think they’d be upset if they knew that you were holding back to maintain the peace?”

Gareth hates therapy.

If Steve hadn’t insisted they all go twice a month, he wouldn’t even be here. If Sam hadn’t backed Steve up, a knowing smirk on his face when Gareth and Frankie argued they didn’t need therapy, he would be sitting on his couch or behind his drums.

“I guess there’s a chance they would be a little upset,” he finally admitted. “But not nearly as upset as if I disagreed with them and we argued.”

“How do you know a disagreement would lead to an argument?”

“Because all disagreements lead to arguments. Arguments lead to fights and silence and cold shoulders. Cold shoulders lead to people not wanting to be around each other anymore.”

Damn, Jessica was fucking good at her job. He didn’t even mean to say all that.

He didn’t even know he felt all that.

“Is this a pattern you’ve experienced before?” She set her notepad aside, all attention on him.

“I guess, yeah. My parents. My older brother and my dad. My grandparents and my mom. My first best friend.” He shrugged. “Just easier to go along with things. It’s not like I’m not happy.”

“Settling and being happy are two different things.”

“I am happy. Really.”

He is. He’s never been happier, actually. He gets to do the coolest job in the world with his best friends, he has a boyfriend he loves more than anything, and he gets to drink his favorite coffee every morning. Life is great.

“Do you think that happiness stems from the peace you’ve forced yourself to accept or from being content in your life?” Jessica leaned forward.

“Do you do this with everyone? Is this magic?” He asked, suddenly having the overwhelming urge to cry or run or both.

She laughed. “No, it’s not magic. It’s just understanding my people. You don’t give me much to work with, but sometimes something sticks out and I can run with it.”

“Seems like magic.” He sighs. There’s no way out of this conversation. “What am I supposed to do? Cause problems until no one wants me in the band anymore?”

“No. Do you want actual advice or do you wanna try to figure it out yourself?” She leaned back in her chair. “I’m pretty sure you won’t like my advice.”

“I don’t like most of what you say.”

“Fair enough.” She smiles. “I think you should try being honest next time there’s something you have a different opinion on. No one is going to hate you or want you out of the band. They value your opinion or they wouldn’t have you there to begin with.”

“Easier said than done.”

“Not necessarily. It’s only as hard as you make it.” She makes a note in the planner next to her. “I’m expecting you to give me at least one example of doing this by our next session.”

“Homework? I’m busy enough!” Gareth didn’t want this to get in the way of tour prep. They were starting rehearsals next week and had a few last minute adjustments to make on their album before the tour started.

“And it’s the perfect time to speak up,” she raised a brow, daring him to continue arguing. When he didn’t, she spoke again. “I’m not expecting you to do it all overnight. Just once.”

“Fine.”

****

The first rehearsal was a shit show. It always is, but everyone’s nerves were shot today after barely sleeping and a flight delay keeping two of the tech managers unavailable for an extra few hours.

Frankie snapped on him earlier, but he walked away. That wasn’t the time to follow Jessica’s advice.

Eddie stormed from the room a few minutes ago, said he needed a break to call Steve. He’d been arguing with his guitar tech over which of his five guitars to use for a song.

Gareth started to speak up to give his opinion, but Eddie was already too frustrated.

See, Jessica? This is why you should stay quiet.

But Eddie came back a few minutes later and asked Gareth what he thought.

“The one you use for Blue Night is probably what you should use for Invade. Sounds are similar enough for those songs,” he said without thinking.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Eddie agreed, knocking his shoulder against Gareth’s. “Thanks, man.”

“Dunno why he listens to you and not me,” the guitar tech grumbled.

Gareth smiled.

Okay, Jessica. Maybe you were right this time.

[lovelettersfromluna]

✰20 Something✰

{Ellie Williams x Reader}

Summary: How you ain’t say you was movin’ forward? Honesty hurts when you’re gettin’ older, I gotta say I’ll miss the way you need me.

an: first things first, yes it’s based off of the sza song, yes this is going to be very angsty, and yes I purposefully used the lyrics of the song to leave a bit of mystery for the summary hehe. But anyways! Here’s the second part of Blossom! This one is pretty short, and the ending is a bit abrupt, but that’s only because I have plans for the next part!! I hope you enjoy angels. Mwah mwah 🖤🖤

Warnings: angst!! Ellie is an idiot in this one I’m sorry, Joel being a dad figure to reader, alcohol usage, reader gets a lil drunk, jealous!reader, let me know if I missed anything pleaseeee (not proofread)

You can read part 1 here!

Tag list: @gold-dustwomxn @liabadoobee @uraesthete @heathermuahhh

For the first time in five years, your bed is warm.

And that doesn’t go to say you never had a warm body filling up the empty spot next to you in your bed. There were many times where you’d fallen into bed with someone for a one night stand, or finally working up to the person you would be seeing at the time to sleeping over.

But that was all in the city, you hadn’t once given someone the opportunity to fill your bed in your current home. The home that you were sprouting your roots into, and creating a space that you’d call home forever.

That, and none of those people before warmed you up like Ellie did.

Ellie’s arms never leave yours within the night, they’re strong and they hold you tight against her chest even when she’s snoring softly in your ear. It’s almost as if she’s scared you’ll slip away somehow, like she’s worried if she doesn’t hold on tight enough, she’ll no longer be in this dream that she’s found herself in.

And you don’t mind, her warm embrace helps clear your head from the noisy thoughts that threaten to cloud your mind. Without her strong arms wrapped around your middle, and the dreamy smell of her shampoo and her cologne, you’d be panicking.

Panicking because none of this is okay, and you both know it.

It allows you to sleep, and enjoy her for the moment, because you know exactly what you’ll do when the sun rises.

You have it all planned out, playing out the scenario and what you’ll say in your head. It’s like you’ve written a script for yourself, one that you’ve closely analyzed and revised countless times between the heavy sedation of sleep and wake that finds you through the night. You continuously fall in and out because the foreign feeling of Ellie next to you is too apparent to ignore, and it makes itself even more known when you realize that it’s Ellie.

Despite it all, the sleep is good. It’s heavy, and comfortable and it’s like your bodies are tangled up within one another in the most perfect way, making your insides feel warm and fuzzy. You’re sure you’d be able to stay there with her till the end of time. You feel her wake up a few times as well, pressing gentle kisses at the nape of your neck, whispering sweet promises into your ear as her hands slip underneath your t shirt, toying with your soft skin and pulling you in closer.

Because she can’t get enough of you. She’s cursing herself on the inside because she can’t believe she’d almost forgotten how good you felt pressed up against her, how nice your supple skin felt spilling from between her fingers, how responsive your body was to her every kiss and touch.

So she feels she has some catching up to do, and she plans on roaming her fingers along every available space of your body. She wants to remember everything she’s ever experienced with you, all while making new memories as well.

And you can feel it, which makes it all the more harder to get out of bed the next morning.

The morning sun is warm and inviting, but it comes all too soon.

It takes everything in you to peel Ellie’s limbs from your body. You let out a sigh of relief when once you’re out of bed, she’s still fast asleep. You tilt your head to the side as you eye the girls sleeping form, she looks like her younger self when she sleeps. Her cheeks look fuller, and her lips look plumper. It reminds you of all the times you traced your fingers over her sleeping face when she’d fallen asleep in your bedroom when you were teenagers.

It reminds you of the face that wouldn’t even look in your direction when shoving a box into your arms.

And maybe you’re being petty, because it was something that happened so long ago and you both were so young. But it still hurts, and it doesn’t matter if it happened when you were both young, or if your relationship was doomed anyways.

Ellie did what she did, and no matter how many sweet things she said to you, she couldn’t take it back.

You sigh softly as you blink out of your trance, breaking away from the memories that you had been holding onto for so long. You need to get dressed, and you need to get downstairs before Ellie wakes.

You settle on a plane white t shirt, and a pair of your favorite denim shorts. They’re your moms from when she was younger, they remind you of when you were little.

Your feet pad against the wooden floor as you make your way downstairs. It’s still very early, and if Ellie is anything like the way she was when she was younger, you’ll be clear of her for at least another hour or so.

You settle on grabbing some fresh lemons from a near by bowl and making some lemonade to kill the time.

On the other end of your house, Ellie is groaning softly. She takes a moment to realize where it is that she is, the foreign bed making her feel extremely confused. Once her eyes have adjusted to the early morning light peeking in through your window, she immediately remember where she is.

Memories of the night before come flooding in, and she can’t stop the stupid smile that paints her face.

She’s blushing like an idiot, and she brings her strong hands up to her face as she groans softly. She’s just as fucking smitten for you as she was back when she was a teenager, and she can’t even deny it.

You, where were you?

The question runs rapid in her mind as she sits up, frowning a bit as she looks around. She isn’t too worried, seeing as she is in fact in your house. She knows you couldn’t have gone far, but the fact alone that she wasn’t able to wake up to you in her arms makes her upset.

From upstairs she can hear a bit of clattering downstairs in the kitchen, and she knows exactly where you are.

Ellie is up on her feet instantly, yawning as she scratches the back of her neck. She makes her way through your home, smiling softly at all the little trinkets you have set around on different shelves and tables.

But when she finally finds herself in your kitchen, and spots you, you’ve taken her breath away.

The window near your counter lets the warm glow of the sun hit you perfectly, sun rays shining through your hair and onto your pretty features. The song you’re humming softly is the sweetest melody she’s ever heard in her entire life, and your clothes are simple, but they’re making her fucking swoon.

It all feels so domestic, like she’s waking up to you, her girl, in the kitchen of your sweet home, and it’s enough to make her head spin.

It almost feels like nothings ever changed.

You’re too lost in your own thoughts as you slip a few more lemon slices into the pitcher before you bring your wooden spoon into it and stir it once more, finally happy with the drink. You don’t even hear Ellie when she’s approaching you from behind, strong hands wrapping around your waist and pulling you against her chest. You gasp softly, almost forgetting that the girl was in your house for a moment.

Your eyes flutter shut as you let her hold you. She’s lifting you up and into her body to the point that your toes almost leave the floor, her face pressing into your neck as she inhales the sweet scent of your shampoo.

She brings a hand up, pushing your hair back so she’s able to press soft kisses to your neck. The feeling of her lips against your skin makes you whine.

“Morning, blossom…” she hums. Her voice is raspy, and deep and still thick with sleep. It makes you tug your bottom lip between your teeth, tugging on it softly, and you can’t help but close your eyes and tilt your head to the side to give her better access to your neck, silently begging for more of her kisses.

It’s when you feel one of her strong hands slipping under your shirt and toying with the waist of your denim shorts that you open your eyes and quickly clear your throat, stepping away from her grip as you turn around.

You almost wish you’d stayed in her arms, because Ellie looks like a fucking dream right now.

Her hair is messy, and her eyes are puffy from sleep, lips pouting from the lack of you in her arms. Her t shirt is hanging loosely on her body, boxers low on her waist. She looks like something you would’ve assumed only existed within the depths of your fantasies, and nowhere in the real world.

Yet here she was, standing right in front of you, arms already reaching out and begging for you to be pressed against her.

You quickly step grab the pitcher of lemonade and hold it between the two of you, acting as a form of separation, one that would keep her away from you for at least a few seconds longer. You knew that it you let her hold you the way she did, or even come any closer, you’d fold.

“I um…thought you’d be thirsty…so I…made you some lemonade”

Ellie frowns as she watches you stutter, a habit that seemed to be the most present whenever you were nervous or hiding something. She could still recall the time when you and Joel were planning a surprise birthday party for her eighteenth, and she questioned you on why you’d been so absent for the past month or so. You were a babbling mess, avoiding eye contact, trying your best to get out of being in rooms alone with her, anything so that you could be free of the guilt that came with keeping something from her.

Just like you were now, babbling, eyes blinking rapidly as you looked everywhere but her eyes.

Her eyebrows are furrowed in confusion as she watches you for a moment longer, she opens her mouth to say something, but you’re already reaching behind her and grabbing two glasses and bringing them to your little kitchen table.

She watches you as you move, your focus now on the two glasses as you fill them up. She settles on leaving it alone for now, mainly because she’d like to just focus on you right now.

She moves to sit down at the table, but it doesn’t go without her hand sliding against your waist, her tattooed arm wrapping around it as she presses a kiss to your head. “You alright baby?” She mumbles against your hair, giving your skin a gentle squeeze before she moves to sit down, her green eyes never leaving your face as she takes her glass into hand.

It makes it feel like you’ll lose your footing, the way she’s so quickly comfortable enough to do these things to you, say these things to you, like she never even left you in the first place. It’s all too quick, and it makes you feel like you’re the happiest girl in the world, all while being the saddest.

You have to get away from her, you can’t be anywhere near her.

You quickly clear your throat, giving her a quick nod as you grab your glass and move over to your sink, which is opposite of the kitchen table. Her eyebrows furrow again as she watches you flee her touch, and it leaves a bitter taste in her mouth.

You’re quite literally flinching away from her touch as if you’re afraid of her, and it makes her anxiety settle in with each passing moment.

You stand near the sink, staring into the glass filled with lemonade, a lemon wedge floating around in the surface as you find it far more interesting to stare into it rather than looking into Ellie’s eyes.

“What’s going on?” She questions, one of her hands resting on her thigh as she watches you. The worry in her voice is enough to make you wince, eyes squeezing shut for a moment before you exhale loudly, looking up so that you’re now staring out your window, the calm morning breeze swaying through the trees calming you for a moment before you speak.

“I can’t do this, Ellie.” You mumble softly, voice barely above a whisper.

Your tone has Ellie on her feet before you can even finish, your kitchen table scraping against the wooden floor as she pushes it back so she can stand. You’ve barely even said anything, or given any explanation to what it is that you’re even talking about, but she already knows.

“What do you mean? You said last night that you were okay with this…with us-“ you cut her off quickly, the words falling from her lips too hard to listen to.

“I know….what I said Ellie…I just…” you sigh sadly, hands gripping the edge of your counter as you try to compose yourself. It doesn’t help that Ellie is by your side, her body towering over yours as she stares down at you. One of her hands come down to brush your hair away from your face, trying to get a better view of your expression as her other hand comes down to grip your hip gently, massaging the skin gently.

Despite you telling her you can’t be with her, she’s still there, comforting you and helping you get the words out. It makes it hurt even more.

She leans down, pressing a kiss to your head. “Say it…” she mumbles softly against your hair. Her words leave a chill down your spine, because her tone isn’t malicious or even angry, she knows she’s getting what she deserves, and she knows that you deserve to get it out.

You lick your lips, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth before you turn to face her, your eyes finally looking up into hers. It makes your breath shudder, because they’re holding so much pain, and confusion and it makes you hate yourself for doing this.

“It is as just…a lot…seeing you for the first time in so long…I wasn’t thinking and…and you don’t even live here anymore, Ellie. How are we even supposed to do this? I let you stick around and fuck me until it’s time for you to leave again? And then it’s back to how it was? I don’t even know you anymore…I can’t…I won’t do it.” You sigh out, your words are stern and there’s no getting through to you, and Ellie can see that.

You feel your eyes burn with hot tears, and you don’t even care. You inhale deeply as they spill out onto your cheeks, gently grabbing Ellie’s hands from your hips and removing them so they’re now hanging down by her own legs.

“I deserve better, Ellie…and you aren’t that” you whimper out. The words are like fire on your tongue, burning your insides and setting your heart ablaze as you stare at her. It hurts to even say it out loud, but it’s the truth, you both know it.

Ellie’s own green eyes pool up with tears, the whites of her eyes going red as she inhales deeply. She knew it was all too good to be true, too much of a fantasy to indulge in. She didn’t deserve your kindness, she didn’t deserve your forgiveness, she knew that for a long time.

It was just nice to pretend that she did for a moment.

Ellie knows deep down, that she’d do anything to beat the obstacles that would’ve came with being with you. The distance, trust, making it all up to you, she would’ve done it all. You’d never been anything less than the girl that she wanted to grow old and grey with.

You both new that.

She licks her lips, looking down at her feet for a moment before she gives you a nod. She can’t make this any harder for you than it’s already been. You do deserve better, and as much as she feels she can provide only the best for you, she can’t put you through anymore pain than she already has.

“I’ll um…I’ll let myself out…” she nods to herself, her words barely above a whisper in fear that it’ll break through her tears, and she’ll crumble onto her knees, begging you to give her the chance that she didn’t deserve.

You inhale deeply, looking away from the girl as you nod. Any longer staring into those big, sad eyes, and you would’ve crumbled with her, holding her in your arms and telling her it had always been her, and that you’d give her a million chances if she wanted them.

But you needed to do right for yourself, you had to put your foot down.

Ellie disappears upstairs, grabbing her jeans and her sneakers and getting dressed in silence. She takes in the details of your room, knowing that it would be the last time that she sees this intimate side of you. It’s one of the things she regretted the most, not taking in the little things about you leading up to when she left, it made it harder to remember them down the road.

You don’t move from your spot until she comes back, because it’s hard to retain the last twenty four hours that you’ve experienced. It feels bizarre and unreal and it feels like a disturbingly realistic dream. You feel like you can’t move, like you’re suddenly glued to the floor.

Ellie’s foot steps padding against your floor breaks you away from that feeling, and you’re quickly on your feet and walking her towards the door. It’s awkward and strange and it feels like she wasn’t just grabbing you and pulling you into her body mere moments ago.

Before Ellie walks out of your door, she quickly turns around eyes scanning over your living room for a moment before she moved over to the little brown wooden entrance table near your door.

Along with a small bowl holding your keys, there was a little note pad and a little red pen. Without skipping another beat, she grabbed it, jotting down her number. She cleared her throat as she handed it to you, eyes down casted before she spoke. “My um…my number…feel free to call or text or..whatever you want. I’ll always answer” she reassures.

You stare at the little note for a moment, chewing your bottom lip before you sigh softly. “Ellie you really don’t have to do that-“ she cuts you off, stepping forward and grabbing your hand, turning it over before she pushes the paper into your hand, closing it around it.

“I don’t wanna be strangers anymore..even if we can’t be together in the way I’d want…I miss you…i’ll take you in any way you’ll let me have you…” she sighs out, her tone pleading with you.

You finally stare up into her eyes, and you know she’s telling the truth. You lick your lips, looking down at the little note scribbled in her hand writing, paired with a little smiley face at the end.

“Maybe we could go out sometimes…as friends or something” she adds on, weary of the way you’ve been completely silent this entire time.

You let out a soft sigh before you give her a slow nod, your finger tips gently running along the numbers on the paper before you finally look up at her, giving her a soft, sad smile. “Yeah…I’d like that, Ellie” you speak softly to her.

Despite it being far from what she wants, she gives you a soft smile. She nods with you, staring at you for a moment longer before she nods her head towards the door. “I’d better head out then…I’ll see you around?” She says almost hopefully, scared that it’ll be yet another promise you’ve made that you aren’t sure you want to keep or not.

You smile softly, giving her a reassuring nod. You’re leaning against the front door, watching her as she walks out to her car. She feels like she’ll pass out at any moment, because it’s like the universe is playing a cruel joke on her. The most beautiful girl in the entire fucking world is the one she can’t have, and seeing you leaned up against the door, sun shining down on you like you’re a goddess in the flesh.

She’s surprised she didn’t fall over with a nose bleed.

“I’ll….text you Ellie” you sigh out, and your words alone have Ellie grinning from ear to ear. She almost trips over her own feet as she walks backwards towards her car, causing you to giggle.

She quickly grabs onto the handle of the car, giving you a nod. “Yeah! Yes, um…I’ll answer!” She tries, smoothing down her t shirt to try and come off as cool as possible. You smile softly as you nod, giving the girl a small wave.

It’s all bitter sweet, the smiles on both your face and hers, the way you’re leaning against your door watching her get into her cat and leave, the dreamy look in your eyes as you watch as her car pulls out of your drive way. It all feels too much like a dream, like things had never changed, and everything you had ever wanted was all yours.

But it isn’t, Ellie isn’t yours and you aren’t hers. That was the decision you made, and you were sticking to it.

You huff loudly as you tug yet another dress of your body a bit too roughly.

Nothing looked right, everything looked wrong, and you had to be at Joel’s house within the next hour for the party he was throwing for Ellie.

It had been about a week since the entire situation with Ellie had happened, and as hollow as it made your heart feel, things between the two of you had been surprisingly good. You and her texted often, keeping things as friendly as possible. Apart from the numerous times Ellie tried flirting with you. You’d even gone as far as meeting with her and Joel for dinner sometime within the week. During which, Joel had mentioned that he was throwing a welcome home party for Ellie, and he expected you to be there.

And before you knew it, Friday was upon you. Your hair and makeup was already done, yet you had no idea what the hell to put on. You huffed loudly in annoyance as you threw a denim skirt across your room, stepping forward to rummage through your closet once again before the sound of your phone buzzing caught your attention.

You raised your eyebrows as you turned around, looking at your phone on its spot upon your bed. You roll your eyes playfully as you step forward a bit and realize it’s Ellie.

Ellie: do u know what ur gonna wear?

You sigh softly as you look at your mess of a closet for a brief moment before you begin typing away at your phone.

You: not a clue. U?

Ellie: birthday suit. Wanna twin?

You: do u want me to block u?

Ellie: jeez relax

Ellie: was just a suggestion 🙄

Ellie: srsly tho, u comin soon?

You: soon as I figure out what to wear

Ellie: hurry up. People are already here and I need someone to talk shit with

You: yes ur majesty

Ellie: oh I like that

You: I’ll send these messages to ur dad

Ellie: are u telling on me?

You: bye Ellie

Ellie: byeeeeeee

And that’s what your relationship consisted of. Witty back and forth texts with the occasional flirting that you’d have to shut down every once in a while. It felt…simple, easy, like there was no complicated history between the two of you and you could just be friends who would talk shit sometimes.

It made it feel easier to be around her.

You let out a soft sigh before you turn towards your closet once again, tossing your phone onto your bed and tackling the issue at hand that was finding an outfit for Ellie’s party.

About twenty minutes more of rummaging through your closet, you settle on a black lace table top, one that falls a bit frilly towards the end, a pair of blue jeans, and black sandals. You sigh softly as you look into the mirror, giving your hair a few more shakes and cleaning up any access lip liner around your lips before you grab your purse and make your way over to Joel and Ellie’s house.

When you get to Joel’s house, you aren’t sure you’d ever seen so many cars lined up against the curb.

Ellie had always been a town favorite, and it’s no shocker that everyone would wanna get in on the action of seeing her now that she was back.

You inhale deeply as you stare up at the house, for a moment a feeling of uncertainty washing over you. Regardless of the fact that you and Ellie were on speaking terms, it was still hard to shake the uneasy feeling that came with being around her. It made your heart rate quicken, made your palms sweaty, your hands shaky. It was an overwhelming full body experience that no matter how much you tried to shake, you couldn’t.

But, you promised you’d be there. You let out a soft sigh before you wiped your palms against the rough denim of your jeans, shaking away your nervous before you walked up the steps to the house, and let yourself inside.

You can’t remember the last time Joel’s house was so lively. Anytime within the last few months that you’d been there had been quiet, and it was only ever the two of you. Joel preferred it that way, keeping things quiet and more intimate. He just for some reason had a thing with home coming parties

As soon as you’re in the house, various familiar faces are coming towards you and greeting you with smiling faces. You smile softly as you embrace a few of them, allowing them to calm your nerves for a brief moment before you have to see Ellie.

But before those thoughts can even begin to disperse in your mind, Ellie is cutting the conversation she was having short, because her eye had been on the front door the entire night, waiting for the moment that the person behind it would be you.

It almost makes her angry, because you never fail to take her breath away. You’re supposed to be her friend and she’s gawking at you from the moment you set foot in her house. She licks her lips, eyes raking down your form as she brings the red solo cup to her lips, her other arm reaching out and circling your waist to pull you into a hug.

You take your bottom lip between your teeth as she pushes you flush against her body. She’s not drunk, but she’s certainly warmed up enough to grab you as she pleases. You can’t help but giggle softly as she holds you before you press your hands to her chest, pushing her away from your body. “Already broken into dads liquor cabinet I see?” You tease her.

She rolls her eyes playfully before she looks down into her cup before taking another sip. “Had no choice, he spent way too much fuckin money on whiskey for me…said he wanted the good stuff” she groans out. You smile softly as you nod, looking down into the cup with her before your eyes scan the room for the man in question.

“Where is he anyways? I wanna say hello” you breath out, your voice slightly raised as you lean into her a bit so that she’s able to hear you over the chatter of party goers conversations and the low music playing in the background.

Her eyes drift down towards your face as you look around for her father, licking her own lips as she takes in your pretty features for a moment before she looks up with you, catching sight of her dad across the room chatting up some work friends. “Probably talking about building decks and the game coming up…boring stuff…meaning you’d much rather hang with me” she mumbles out nonchalantly. You roll your eyes as you give her a nudge, your palm pressing against her chest.

She smirks softly as she watches you. You’d both fallen into such a comfortable relationship, regardless of the fact that her heart yearned for you whenever you were near, and every time other than that. She was at least grateful for the way you were around her now.

“You have an entire house of people here to see you, and talk to you…I won’t hog” you nod to yourself, and it makes her want to whine.

She’d trade every single person in that room for you, any fucking day.

“You’ll catch up later though, yeah?” She questions, her big eyes looking down into yours and practically begging for the reassurance that she so desperately needed. That had become a common thing for her, constantly asking you for reassurance that you’d text her or that you’d come back around to see her later on.

You know why she does it, she’s scared you’ll leave her. She’s scared you won’t keep your promise of sticking around and you’ll realize that this isn’t right, and she doesn’t even deserve you as a friend.

She’s scared you’ll do to her what she did to you.

But you always reassure her. You always give her that little act of devotion that she doesn’t deserve, yet you always feel the need to give her. You smile softly as you look up at her, giving her arm a gentle squeeze. “I’ll come and find you” you promise, and you can physically see relief wash over her. She smiles softly with you as she nods, mumbling a soft ‘okay’ before you set out to go find Joel.

Joel’s face lights up the exact same way Ellie’s does when he spots you, excusing himself from the conversation with his friends as he pulls you into a big bear hug. “There’s my girl…was starting’ to think you weren’t comin’ kid” he breaths out, and you can practically hear the smile on his face as he holds you close.

You giggle softly as you hug him back before you nod. “M’sorry, Joel…the walk is pretty long” you admit, leaving out the part where you ruined your entire bedroom searching for an outfit that was good enough.

Your words make him groan. “I told you kid, I could’ve came and picked you up. Don’t like you walkin’ home so late at night” he sighs out. You giggle softly, the prominent frown on his brow making it clear how annoyed he was with you doing that. “This town is harmless Joel. Plus, you’re celebrating with Ellie, I knew you’d wanna have a drink or two…I’ll be fine” you reassure him, giving his arm a playful punch.

He sighed softly, nodding slowly. “If you say so…but if you change your mind I’m sure one of my buddies wouldn’t mine taking you home” he promises, and you give him a nod paired with a soft smile. “I’ll keep that in mind Joel..” you smile up at him before you turn your attention to the party, smiling softly at what Joel had managed to put together.

“The place looks great by the way…you sure know how to throw a party old man” you praise him, causing his eyes to crinkle towards the edges as he smiles proudly. He nods in agreement as he brings his cup to his lips. “Looks good, right? Ellie said it was too much but…with her first time back and all..wanted to make it a good one” he breaths out before he looks down at you.

“M’really happy you made it kid. You don’t know how much it means to her” his voice drops a bit as he looks down at you, and you look up at him. His eyes are filled with genuine gratitude, the ones he looked at you with every time he saw you and Ellie together when you were younger. It was as if he was thanking you for loving his daughter, despite everything that had happened.

You smile softly up at him before you nod, looking down as you toy with the rings on your fingers. It all felt like too much, like you were given credit for something you didn’t deserve. You inhaled deeply before you nodded your head towards the kitchen. “M’gonna get something to drink…I’ll be around” you promise him, and he smiles softly as he nods, giving your back a soft, gentle rub before he goes back to his friends.

And those are the two longest conversations you have for the night. You decide to lay low, babysitting the drink that you’d made for yourself which consisted of whatever soda you could and the cheapest liquor that Joel had, because you didn’t want to use io the expensive stuff he’d bought for Ellie.

You float around from the living room, to the front porch, and the kitchen, choosing not to stay in one place for too long at one time. You have gentle smiles and small waves to people you knew from town, the drink in your hand giving you the warmth to not feel embarrassed when fleeing the conversation too quickly.

You do it, because you know that no matter what, you and Ellie would gravitate towards one another within the night. It was inevitable, because you were both drinking and if her eyes weren’t on you, yours were on her, and you had to make it a point to not make your way around her at all.

Because you knew it wouldn’t end well.

About an hour or two into the party, you’re leaned up against the island in Joel’s kitchen. You were working on your second drink, quietly sipping away at with your chin leaned into your palm, humming softly to the music that was playing.

Joel had made his way towards you within the night, checking in on you and making sure you were okay and had whatever you needed or wanted.

He leans up against the counter with you, his forearms resting against the wooden top as he leans into you a bit. “Why do I keep findin�� you hidin’ in a corner? You’re not havin’ fun?” He’s only half teasing you. The other half of his question is genuine, and you can’t help but feel bad that he’s worried about you, and why you’re not socializing.

You smile softly as you shake your head, bringing your red cup to your lips and taking another sip before you speak. “I’ve never been a social butterfly…you know that” you hum softly, and it’s true. You’ve never been one to party too hard or speak too much. Sure, you had your fair share of it all in college, but it was all done with the gentle shove of your friends behind you. You were an introvert through and through, who simply had a few extrovert tendencies whenever it counted.

But that was only half the truth.

The rest of it, was that you were in deed hiding from something, two somethings actually.

You didn’t mean to see it, or even catch it, although saying it that way made it sound like she was doing something wrong or something she shouldn’t have been, which was far from the truth. Joel had really gone as far as extending an invitation to anyone he saw in town, and urged them to spread the word to whoever they wanted. In that, came various familiar faces that you hadn’t seen in a very long time.

Amongst those faces, was a girl named Jade.

Jade became a prominent name during your high school years. Before you and Ellie began dating, it was no secret that the girl had been crushing on Ellie for quite some time. Ellie told you she noticed it all during the third grade, said that Jade would pass her notes or ask her to be her valentine, but she never truly paid it any mind, because she didn’t see Jade that way.

And when you started dating, the flirty eyes never really stopped. You’d always catch Jade ogling Ellie, whispering things to her friends when you’d walk past, laughing loudly to make sure you knew they were talking about you. You knew it wasn’t anything against you, it was for the simple fact that Jade wanted something that you had. In fact, when you’d return to town, Jade had even made it a point to pull you aside and apologize to you one day when you were running errands in town. You could tell she was genuine, and that it was all petty little high school games, and you considered her to be somewhat of a friend in your new life there.

And you never once accused Ellie of wanting Jade, because you always felt secure with her. Despite everything that Ellie had put you through, you’d never label her a cheater.

But seeing them both on the couch, Jade whispering something into Ellie’s ear, Ellie’s arm draped across the couch behind Jade, the two of them looking far too much like a couple for comfort. It put a dull, burning feeling inside your stomach. It made your heartbeat loud inside of your head and it felt like all the blood was rushing to your head. It was too much, and you couldn’t be around to watch.

But you’d never tell Joel that.

He somehow already knows that it’s what’s on your mind, because he’s leaning into you and his voice is dropping lower in volume so that no one but you will hear. “She’s just bein’ polite, you know…doesn’t mean anything…” he’s trying to reassure you, as if it would ease the blow.

You sigh softly, shaking your head as you bring your cup up to your lips, taking a sip of the flattening soda and the bitter alcohol, the flavor making you wince a bit. “Doesn’t matter if she’s being polite, or if she likes her…it’s none of my business…I’m just here because you asked me to be” you mumble out as you swirl the drink in the cup, staring down into it as you have a half shrug.

Joel sighed sadly as he watched you. Regardless of the fact that he knew Ellie was wrong for what she did, he knew his daughter, and he knew that she was just being young and reckless when she did what she did. He’d always been rooting for the two of you, secretly hoping that some how, some day, you’d find it in your heart to forgive his daughter, and give her the privilege of loving you.

His eyes drifted over towards Ellie for a moment, watching as the girl leaned in and whispered something in her ear, her hand resting on Ellie’s thigh. It was enough to make him roll his eyes, which prompted you to giggle softly. Alcohol always brought out the sassy side of the man.

“Im tellin’ you kid, if you went over there right now, you’d have her full attention” His words make you laugh dryly, shaking your head as you down the rest of your drink, tilting your head back to get all of it into your mouth before you toss it into the nearby trash.

“Maybe. But I’m not gonna stick around to test that theory” you breath out, your words slow and soft from the affects of the liquor in your system. Joel raises his eyebrows as he watches you, frowning softly.

“Leavin’ already? You sure about that?” He tries, his attempt at trying to get you to stay not so casual. You hum softly as you nod, leaning against the opposite side of the counter as you looked over at Joel with heavy eyes.

“I wanna get out of here while I can still walk…plus I don’t wanna keep you from your friends” you nodded towards the various people that Joel had left throughout the night to check on you. It made you feel bad, because he truly was the only person you felt okay with speaking to throughout the night, and the guilt you felt knowing you were pulling him away from his guests was something you could’ve easily gone without.

He sighed softly as he shook his head. “You know I’d rather spend time with you kid, don’t mind them” you’re already waving your hand lazily as you practically shoo him away, giving him a soft smile as you shake your head. “It’s way past my bed time anyways Joel….I’ll see you next week” you reassure him, and he knows there’s no convincing you.

He sighs gently before he gives you a soft nod, telling you to get home safe to which you assure him you will.

On your way towards the door, various people are calling after you. Telling you that it’s far too early for you to check out, you’re even sure a few hands grab your own, trying to tug you back. You simply give a soft giggle as you wave them off, telling them you have work to do at home.

It isn’t until a strong hand wraps around your waist when your hand is on the door, that you completely stop.

There’s no question on who it is, the feeling of Ellie’s hands having been burned into your brain from the last time she was with you. You can’t help but whine softly in annoyance, because you know that’s it’s her, and you know that there’s no reason for her to have gotten up from where she was sitting to stop you.

She’s the entire reason you’re leaving anyways.

Ellie’s tugging at your waist to turn you around, needing to see your face. The whine you let out makes her sigh softly. Once she’s gotten you to turn around, you’re rolling your eyes at her.

“What is it now, Ellie?” You sigh out tiredly, and it makes the girl frown. You sound like you’re over it, and tired of her, and like the only thing you truly want to do in that moment is go home.

“You’re leaving already? I thought…you said you’d come and find me later” she mumbles, her voice desperate and confused. You raise your eyebrows in disbelief as you watch her before you inhale deeply, giving her a half shrug. “I’m just tired, Ellie…it’s best if I go home now” you nod, trying to turn around and end the conversation short. You truly did not have the energy to deal with any of it, your emotions, the jealousy you felt, her.

She frowns further as you try to leave, her hand grabbing your wrist and stopping you from leaving before she speaks up again. “Is it..are you leaving because of Jade? Because her and I weren’t doing anything I swear-“ you let out a soft giggle, but it doesn’t sound friendly or even happy. You’re quite literally over it.

“Why are you explaining yourself to me? I’m nothing to you, Ellie. You can be with whoever you want, it has nothing to do with me” you breath out, and the words you’re saying are breaking Ellie’s heart.

She thought she had it all planned out. She wanted to just…make you a little jealous, get your attention in the slightest bit. She was running out of options, and doing some harmless flirting seemed to be the way she’d get you to her. She wanted you to stomp over to her and Jade on the couch, and demand that she come upstairs with you.

But when she simply saw your shoulders deflate from the kitchen, and you made your way to her front door, she knew she’d made a mistake.

It was starting to feel like that’s all she could do, make mistakes. Every thing she did, or said was always the wrong thing. The worst possible option for her to make was the one she always followed through with.

And she hated herself for it.

And she couldn’t even say anything to you. She just stared down at you as you waited for her to say something. You let out a tired sigh before you grab her hand gently, prying it away from her wrist. “Have fun with her…you deserve it” you sigh out, giving her a sad smile before you turn around once again to leave.

But this time, Ellie doesn’t stop you.

Because she isn’t sure how to reverse what she’s done. Nothing has gone the way she’s wanted it to, and what she thought would bring you two closer together has merely driven a wedge between you instead. She frowned as she watched you open the front door to her house.

Before you leave, you give her a small wave, and she can see in your eyes how much this has all taken out of you, how much life she had sucked out of you and left you dry. Despite all that she’d done, you still had it in your to leave with a sweet smile and a wave.

It was like she couldn’t do anything right, and seeing you leave and walk out of her home once again was breaking her heart.

She was letting you walk out again, and she felt utterly hopeless.

As she watched you leave, she promised herself that she would do everything in her power to make things right, to do right by you and be the girl that you deserved.

She was going to fight for you, no matter what.

[writinground2]

Bad Guy - Leah Williamson

Based on a request for more Angsty Leah

This ended up a lot different and longer than I expected it to. There is the potential for a part two if there is interest.

“Never have I ever, cheated on someone,” Ella spoke. 

The lionesses playing the drinking game with water at their team bonding night, everyone spread out in the small hotel room. The night had moved from card games and movies to the game of Never Have I Ever to get to know each other a little more. 

A few took bashful sips, admitting their previous infidelity, all looking guilty about their actions. Leah scoffed when she noticed Y/N does not take a sip. 

“Seems fitting this is a question you choose to lie about,” the blonde rolls her eyes. 

“I’m not lying,” Y/N mutters, keeping her head down, hoping someone else will continue the game and the attention would be taken off her. 

Leah opens her mouth to bite back, “whatever,” she sneers instead when Millie sharply elbows her in the side. 

The room sits in awkward silence for a moment, no one knowing what to say. Most wanted to ask more questions about the interaction, having never seen the either woman be anything but professional towards each other since their friendship had fallen apart only a few months ago. 

“Umm, never have I ever, broken a bone,” Jordan spoke up to end the tense silence. She knew it would draw the attention off Y/N, so many of the players wanting to compete with who had the coolest or worst injury story. 

Y/N played a few more rounds before quietly slipping out of the room. No one noticing until they hear the click of the door. 

“Time for bed!” Millie was quick to usher everyone out of her before anyone could question Leah about her tense interaction with Y/N. 

No one knew the cause of the fallout between the two friends. They had been friends since staring on the youth teams years ago, thick as thieves early on. Then, suddenly, Y/N was being sent on loan to Arsenal from Aston Villa and Leah wanted nothing to do with her best friend. Jordan and Rachel avoided Y/N their first international break after the loan, but seemed fine the next camp, both giving the older girl sympathetic looks. Leah would remain professional with her former best friend, but it was apparent something significant occurred within Y/N’s loan. 

“Sorry,” Y/N mumbled as she almost walked into Leah as she walked out of the bathroom as Leah entered their shared room. Because of course they would be roomed together. Staff didn’t realize the tension in the friendship, leaving them paired as they normally were. 

“I bet you are,” her tone saturated with in sarcasm, “nothing but lies coming out of your mouth.”

“I never cheated Leah,” Y/N whispered, standing at the end of her bed, face crumpling while she tried to convey her honesty to the blonde. 

“Cut the shit, Y/N. I was there that night; we all saw you with that girl at the bar. We saw you fighting with Sydney before you left,” Leah squared her shoulders to confront Y/N, she wasn’t going to let Y/N deny her infidelity anymore. 

“I know,” Y/N couldn’t meet the blondes eye, fiddling with the hem of her shirt, “but, it wasn’t what it looked like.”

“It wasn’t what it looked like,” Leah mocked her. 

“I know it’s cliché, but It really wasn’t what it looked like.”

“Yeah? So what was it supposed to look like? Because, what it looked like, was you fighting with your girlfriend, then getting into a car of girls, and me being left with your crying girlfriend.”

“I didn’t get in the car,” Y/N whispered, but Leah wasn’t listening. 

“That you kicked her out of your house only to show up at Arsenal. Single at that too!” 

She glared Y/N down, eyes set, and jaw clenched, waiting for Y/N to answer. Sydney had been Y/N’s girlfriend of two years, the couple living together for one. She had grown close with the blonde, the pair loving to team up to make fun of Y/N. Sydney was the liaison for the marketing company for Aston Villa. 

“I didn’t cheat, I didn’t get in the car that night,” Y/N repeated. 

She knew how that night appeared to anyone watching on. That it easily appeared like Y/N and her girlfriend gotten into a fight, leaving her at the bar to get into a car full of girls. That she left her girlfriend in another city and moved to another team to avoid dealing with the consequences of her actions. 

Leah continued to stare Y/N down, “if you want me to believe that, then what was it supposed to look like?”

Y/N let out a long sigh, scraping both hands down her face. She wanted to defend herself, to tell Leah the truth, but telling the truth also meant baring Sydney’s actions and she wasn’t sure she wanted to do that. 

“I found out after the game that Villa wasn’t going to extend my contract. But they wanted to do whatever they could to squeeze as much money out of me before I left. They told a few teams interested that I was getting re-signed, even though I wasn’t, so that teams would bid for the loan rights. They hoped teams would sign the loan, then get a big transfer fee next season.”

Leah softened slightly, she couldn’t imagine being regarded only as a price tag, “this doesn’t have anything to with you supposedly not cheating.”

“I told Sydney before we went out. She didn’t really understand, hell I didn’t understand it, but she was mad because she thought it meant I was asking to be loaned out. When we went to the bar to get another round, she told me she was going to move out and went back to the table before I could say anything.”

Y/N sat on the edge of her bed with a defeated sigh, she might as well tell the whole story. She didn’t want to potentially ruin Leah’s friendship with Sydney, but she also couldn’t risk this to continue to put strain on their professional relationship. 

“I thought that meant she didn’t want me around, so I decided to go home, let you guys enjoy the night. On the way out, there was a group of girls trying to get their friend in the backseat of the car to leave, but she was too drunk to stand, so I helped them. She got in the car, they left, and I went home.”

“But your car was still at the pub.”

“I walked; Sydney had the keys.”

Leah crossed her arms while she analyzed what Y/N told her. It was possible Y/N helped the group of girls, she always helped people around her. Y/N had hurt her wrist during the game and probably wouldn’t have been able to handle the gear shift to drive. 

Taking the older girl in, Leah could see how tired she genuinely looked. How it looked like a struggle to just keep herself sitting upright and bags under her eyes when she would briefly make eye contact. 

“She didn’t come home until the next afternoon.”

“She stayed with Jordan,” Leah snapped, she wasn’t going to let Y/N imply Sydney cheated to make herself sound better. 

“I know,” Y/N nodded, “Jordan called me that night to yell at me when Sydney showed up there upset.”

Leah smiled a bit, she knew how protective Jordan could be and could imagine the earful she would have given Y/N, “good, you deserved it.”

“Damnit Leah, I didn’t cheat, and I didn’t kick her out!”

Y/N stood abruptly from the bed, frowning. Leah dropped her arms, mouth opening in shock at the sudden shift in Y/N. 

“She broke up with me! She cheated! She told she found someone better, more attractive, that she never really found me attractive. I lived in a hotel for two weeks before Villa sent me to Arsenal like I was nothing!”

Y/N begun pacing the room. 

“I had to miss training so I could pack my bags while she was at work. She got the house and everything in it and all I have is a couple bags and a few boxes.”

Leah didn’t know any of that. Sydney had told her Y/N kicked her out of the house and she believed it. And she certainly never said anything about seeing someone else. It was starting to be clear that Leah truly didn’t know the full story, or at least, not the true story. 

“Why didn’t you say anything before?” 

Y/N deflated at the question, sinking back down on the edge of the bed, “she was your friend too, I didn’t want to ruin that.”

Any anger the defender felt was gone now. Y/N had spent months protecting Sydney even though she didn’t deserve it. She had been taking the brunt of Leah’s anger without saying anything for months.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, I – “

“It’s alright. It was easier to be the bad guy in her story than fight it.”

Leah made her way across the room, sitting next to Y/N, her whole body pressing into Y/N’s side. 

“It’s not alright, you took so much of my anger when you didn’t deserve any of it. You took Jordan and Rachels too.”

Leah sounded astonished when she spoke, realizing how terrible Y/N had been treated. That she tolerated everyone’s accusations and criticisms while dealing with the truth of the breakup and club loan alone. Y/N should have been angry at everyone and should have told them all the truth about her breakup.

“They figured it out when they took her for drinks,” Y/N shrugged and Leah could tell she was trying to detach herself while telling the story, “She showed up with her new girlfriend. I wasn’t even at Arsenal yet.”

Leah shook her head. She was so angry at herself now. How could she believe someone she knew two years over her best friend she had known for fifteen? She had been so blinded by her anger, she let herself be manipulated into believing her best friend would have done anything like that. 

“I’m gonna go to bed,” Y/N pushed herself up. 

Leah launched herself from the bed and into Y/N’s side, pinning her arms in place in a tight bear hug, “I am so, so sorry Y/N.”

“it’s alright, really.”

“It’s not!” Leah pulled away but kept her grip on Y/N’s and forced her to face her, “you went through all of that alone and you let yourself be the bad guy when you shouldn’t have.”

Y/N tried to pull away only for Leah to tighten her grip, one hand clasping the back of her neck so they are forced to meet eyes, “I cannot apologize enough for how I have been to you, but I want to make it up to you.”

“You don’t need to make it up to me. I just want us to go back to being friends.”

The blonde eagerly nodded at that, letting Y/N pull away this time to settle into bed. 

Leah rushed to complete her bedtime routine before sliding into her own bed. She settles on her side to look over at Y/N facing away from her, chest rising and falling steadily, fast asleep. 

Incessant buzzing wakes Leah far too early the next morning. Y/N mutters soft swears while frantically trying to silence the device and hide the bright screen to avoid waking her roommate. 

The buzzing stops as Y/N throws a hoodie on and is leaving the room as the buzzing starts again. Leah can hear Y/N speaking in the hallway now, she tries to stay awake to make sure everything is alright but sleep quickly wins. Y/N isn’t in the room when she wakes again a few hours later. She gets ready for team breakfast and sits on her bed, waiting for Y/N to return, before rushing out the room when she realizes she’ll be late otherwise. 

Y/N is already seated at a table away from everyone when she gets downstairs. She has her knees tucked up on the edge of her chair with her chin resting on them and a coffee cup clasped in both hands against her chest. Even across the room, Leah can see how exhausted she looks. 

After making a plate, she begins to make her way towards Y/N but is stopped by a hand tugging her to a stop. Jordan shaking her head ‘no’, telling her to leave Y/N alone for the time being. Leah looks back over, debating if she should listen or not. Sighing, she settles next to the midfielder. They’re friendship just starting to be repaired. 

“She told you the truth about Sydney,” it isn’t a question. 

Leah nods slowly, unsure why it matters. 

“Did you say anything to Sydney when you found out?”

Nodding again slowly, “I texted her when Y/N went to sleep and said I was upset she hadn’t told me the truth.”

Jordan clenched her jaw and nodded too, “Sydney is pissed.”

Leah quickly pulled her phone out to see If she had missed a message, furrowing her brow when she hadn’t. 

“Not at you. She’ll take it out on Y/N.”

Her eyes quickly shot over to Y/N. Y/N’s phone was face down on the table, but she was staring intensely at it. 

“That was the phone call,” she realized. 

The midfielder nodded, already seeming to know what the morning had been like for Y/N. 

“Even though they broke up months ago, she still texts Y/N almost every day. She’s,” Jordan pauses while she considers her words, “cruel with everything she has to say.” 

“What do you mean?”

Jordan glances around the table, when she sees no one is paying attention to them she continues, “at first, she was mad Y/N wouldn’t stay her friend. Then it was that she turned Rachel and me against her. But it’s mostly attacking anything about her; her looks, her career, mocks her for being single or being upset with what happened. She’s truly ruthless.”

Leah is disgusted when she hears what someone she considered a friend was doing to Y/N. Guilt settling deep in her gut at how wrong she had been about the whole situation. Jordan can see the thoughts she once had pass across Leah’s face while she watches Y/N toss her phone back down. 

“Rach and I thought the same too. She was convincing when she told us what Y/N supposedly did, I think she believes it herself that she didn’t do anything wrong. She was confused when we didn’t understand how she had the house and a new girlfriend while Y/N was stuck in a hotel in a new city.”

“How long did she have to stay in a hotel once she got to London?”

“She’s still in a hotel,” Jordan shakes her head. She knew Y/N had been so battered down, that she didn’t think Arsenal would keep her around long enough to make a flat wroth it. 

Fortunately, there isn’t much time during the day for players to be on their phones. But during the breaks they do have, Y/N slinks away from the group to skim her few new messages. Each time she returns to the group, Leah can see her force a smile on her face, convincing everyone around she is fine. She does manage to put on a good show of being alright, but Leah can see right through the fraudulent smile and forced laughs. 

Y/N’s phone vibrates on the night stand that night while she goes through her nightly routine in the bathroom. Leah ignores the first message, only for several more to follow, glancing at the screen she sees Sydney’s name.

“Sorry, I meant to silence it,” Y/N apologizes, and she takes it off the nightstand. 

“Nothing to be sorry about,” the defender dismisses her, “Jordan said she’s pretty mean. I didn’t know she still messaged you, if I had, I wouldn’t have texted her last night.” 

Y/N glances at the blonde, nodding slowly, before shrugging her shoulders while she skimmed the new messages and typing out a short reply before tossing the phone onto the bed next to her. 

“Jordan only read them because she thought I was seeing someone,” Y/N gave what almost looked like a genuine smile, “my phone kept going off while we were out once. She stole it, thinking she would get some juicy messages. Once she saw what the messages were, she went through most of them.”

“I know I have no place to ask this, but can I see them?”

Leah could see her tense and bite her lip, clearly considering the question. 

“Why didn’t you ask me about what happened that night? Or trust that I would never do something like that?”

The blonde nodded, they were valid questions, questions she had been considering since the night before. 

“She was damn convincing. You weren’t you that whole night, then she came back to the table crying and you were outside with some girl draped all over you. It was all so believable, she made it believable.”

Y/N risked a small glance towards the other bed. Leah had propped herself up on an elbow, staring intently at Y/N. She couldn’t quite read the expression on her face, a mixture of pity and guilt maybe. 

“I never thought you could do something like that. And she was so convincing. I was just blinded by my anger that I let myself be fooled. I am so sorry that I let myself be tricked and ruined our friendship when I should have just asked you.”

The pity was gone, guilt settled across her face. 

Y/N wordlessly handed her phone across the space between the beds. Leah pushed herself to take the phone, settling on her back to read the messages. 

Leah read the most recent messages first, slowly working her way backwards. Reading the vile things Sydney had been sending Y/N throughout the day, Y/N offering short messages to amend her ex’s anger. 

Y/N fixed her gaze to the ceiling, unwilling to see the blondes reaction as she read the messages, unwilling to see her agree with Sydney.

The phone dropped after a minute of her reading the messages, Leah unable to finish see anymore, disgusted with the things sent. The messages all varied in length, but they all attacked Y/N in every capacity that she could. She criticized anything she could to get a reaction from Y/N. 

Leah pushed herself to hang her legs off the side of the bed. She didn’t know what to do with herself, didn’t know what emotion was the strongest right now. Part of her wanted to storm out of the hotel and confront Sydney. Part of her wanted to wrap Y/N in the tightest hug possible and mend all the broken pieces. All she could bring herself to do was sit with her head in her hands. 

“I, Y/N, fuck,” she could only stutter out, “I don’t even know what to say. Those are, she’s, those are all so fucked.”

Y/N shrugged, “is what it is.”

“it’s not! What she’s saying is so wrong and fucked up!” 

Anger overtaking as she stood up, harshly running her hand through her hair, “you need to block her!”

“I can’t,” Y/N whispered. 

Leah just looked at her, mouth opening and closing. 

“I blocked her on socials and she lost it. When I tried to block her number, she took it out on Rach and Jords, messaging them and all that. She left them alone when I unblocked her.”

She shook her head, Y/N continued to protect everyone but herself. 

“They can handle themselves; you don’t need to protect them.”

 Y/N stubbornly shook her head, refusing to accept that, “they don’t need to be part of this.” 

Leah couldn’t believe Y/N was willing to continue to handle this all on her own. She sat herself on the edge of Y/N’s bed, gently placing a hand on her thigh, encouraging her make eye contact with her. 

“I don’t have it in me to fight anymore, I never really did,” Y/N dropped her chin to her chest, shoulder rounded in, “I didn’t fight the breakup, I gave her the house, I didn’t fight anything she told people. I just want to be done with it.”

Her voice trembled, tipping her head back, hoping to keep the tears from falling. 

“Looking back, I think she broke me down years ago.”

Leah’s heart ached as Y/N spoke, “I am so sorry Y/N.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“No, but I should have been there for you, I will be here for you.”

Leah eventually made her way back to her own bed, but sleep wouldn’t come, lying on her side watching Y/N tucked into herself. She couldn’t imagine how Y/N had handled the last months completely alone, while also having people viewing her as the bad guy in the story. Guilt rocked her, she was one of those people. 

Y/N’s phone remained quiet the next day and Leah could see the relief it left Y/N with. 

“You know, you and I are friends again,” Jordan spoke up when they were alone at their dinner table that night. 

Leah furrowed her brow and slowly nodded, agreeing with the statement. 

“It would be alright if anything started with the two of you,” Jordan gave her a small smile, “Gee told me how disappointed you were when Y/N started seeing Sydney a couple years ago.”

Leah blushed, anxiously running her thumb along her bottom lip, risking a glance to Y/N the table over. Jordan wasn’t wrong. She had been disappointed at the start of Y/N’s relationship. Her feeling had developed when Y/N had been such a good, supportive friend for both her and Jordan when they broke up, even before they broke up, supporting them when it became rocky. 

It hadn’t been something she had expected to happen. She didn’t even know what it was that she was feeling, only realizing her attraction when Y/N excitedly told them about her new relationship at an international camp. The distress at the announcement, she immediately understood she was attracted. 

“You would be really good for her. She needs someone to be good to her, and I think that’s you.”

“I didn’t even realize what I felt until I heard she was dating someone,” Leah felt a little defensive as she spoke. 

Jordan was quick to place a reassuring hand on Leah’s arm, “it’s alright. I know it’s all new for you. And I’m not saying you should do anything about it. Just pointing out that you would be good for.” 

Leah bashfully looked away, she would be lying if she said she hadn’t considered it at one point, she’d also be lying if she denied it being more than once. 

“Last time I could get her to say anything about dating again, she said she swore it off because she doesn’t think she’s worth it anymore.”

The weight in her gut gets heavier the more she’s told about Y/N the last few months  

“But I think she’s just waiting for someone to prove her wrong about it all.”

Leah is amazed at how easily Y/N can move past the months she had been treated so horribly. They easily return to being friends. The guilt is still weighing on her, but it eases slightly when she sees Y/N genuinely smile at her. Her attraction surging back to the front of her mind. 

“Fuck!” 

Leah rushes out of the bathroom when she hears Y/N’s phone hitting the wall. Y/N’s pacing aggressively, harshly running her fingers through her hair.

“What’s happened?” she picks up the phone, inspecting it to ensure it isn’t broken, placing it on the dresser. 

“Arsenal cancelled my hotel room. I’m homeless when I get back to London.”

Leah jolts when Y/N kicks the bed. 

“Good thing I don’t have any stuff to worry about,” she lets out a humourless laugh, kicking the bed a few more times. 

After one last kick, Y/N crumples to the floor, wrapping her arms around her knees and tucking her head between them as sobs wracked her body. Leah rushes to her side, pulling her tight to her chest. Y/N doesn’t fight the action but keeps herself curled into herself. 

“You weren’t supposed to find out that way.”

Y/N scrambles away. 

“Shit, that sounds bad,” the blonde stays on the floor, “Arsenal cancelled your room because you’re going to move in with me. I was going to tell you once we got in bed, I just called them after dinner, I didn’t think they would tell you so fast.” 

Y/N whirls around and stares down at the defender. Leah slowly pushes herself off the floor. 

“You need a home Y/N, I want to give that to you,”

When Y/N doesn’t say anything, Leah frantically thinks of anything to say to fix it. Y/N crashes her body into Leah and the blonde can feel the tears soaking her shirt. She’s sure she’ll have bruises on her side where Y/N is gripping into her. Managing to pull a handout to rub up and down Y/N’s back as her sobs continue. 

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Y/N pulls away, using the sleeve of her hoodie to try and wipe the snot smeared on the blonde’s neck. 

Leah shakes her head, batting the hand away to pull her back into her, “you don’t need to be sorry or say anything. Just come live with me. I have a spare room; I want you to come stay in It.” Once Y/N nods, Leah guides her to lay in her bed, tucking her in. 

The first week living together is awkward. If it wasn’t for the meals left for Leah and the fact that they carpool to training, she would think Y/N wasn’t staying there. Y/N is the perfect house guest, Leah’s house cleaner than when she moved in. But other than seeing her in passing, Leah hardly saw her new roommate. 

Leah grabs Y/N’s arm immediately when they walk through the door, preventing her from running away. 

“This your home now, too. You don’t need to hide in your room. Unpack, eat meals with me, shower here,” she emphasized, knowing Y/N hadn’t even showered at the flat yet, only showering at the training facility. 

Y/N shrunk under Leah’s stare. She had been doing her best to remain as out of site at possible, whatever she could to avoid upsetting the blonde, “I wanted to stay out of your way.” 

“And I want you in my way.” 

Y/N shook her head, not understanding what she meant. 

“I want you to live your life and feel comfortable.”

The next few weeks, Y/N does make an effort to leave her room more, making Leah smile. Y/N waits to eat her meals with Leah now, leaves a pair of shoes by the door, shower products along the tub edge.

“I blocked her,” she whispers between bites at breakfast, “Rach and Jordan did too.”

Leah lets her fork clatter to table as Y/N spoke. 

“I am so, so proud of you Y/N,” she grips Y/N’s wrist across the table, her smile wide as her eyes crinkle. 

Y/N just shrugs and continues to eat, but Leah keeps her hand where it is with her thumb rubbing across her wrist, picking up her fork to eat with her other hand. 

This was a sign Y/N was healing, moving past the torment her ex had been putting her through for months. Y/N was moving in the right direction. Maybe Jordan was right, maybe she was the person Y/N needed to fix all her broken pieces. 

“Have you thought of dating again?” Leah risked. She knew pursuing Y/N would require a lot of patience and understanding. 

“A little bit, but not in the way you think,” Y/N harshly bit her lip, Leah wishing she could tug it away to safety, “I’m too broken to date, I think. No one wants to be with someone this ruined.” 

Leah couldn’t imagine the pain Y/N must constantly be in to think so poorly of herself, to think that she was too damaged and undeserving of someone to be loved. 

“You are not a reflection of people who couldn’t love you properly,” Leah’s grip tightens until Y/N makes eye contact with her, “I am sorry Sydney loved you so poorly and made you think you took up space you didn’t deserve and abandoned you and hurt you so badly you think love is an awful thing.”

Worried Y/N will start bleeding if she bites any harder on her lip, Leah does use her thumb to tug it out. She can feel it tremble under the pad of her thumb as she slowly drags it across the flesh. 

Y/N runs her tongue over her lip when Leah’s thumb is gone, Leah’s steely eyes tracking the motion. She wanted to run away, worried she might do something and risk moving too fast. Leaving now though would ruin all the work she had done to regain Y/N’s trust. 

Leah continues to show Y/N what love is. Opening her car door when they leave for training. Always letting her choose the show they watch. She attempts breakfast, bacon and eggs, but they ultimately end with cereal when she burns both. She increases physical contact; sitting close enough they touch on the couch, hand grazing her back as she walks past, tucking hair behind her ears. 

Y/N adores all of it. But it makes her panic. She won’t go through all of this again. Won’t have someone show her love and care, only to rip it all away from her. 

So, she runs away. Retreats back into her room. Goes back to leaving meals for the blonde to eat, leaving before the blonde wakes up, meeting her at training. 

Leah stands outside Y/N’s room after training, so she knows Y/N’s in there. But this room has been her one safe space since moving in, the blonde doesn’t want to take that away from Y/N, doesn’t want her to feel trapped. 

Steeling herself, she knocks on the door, three quick raps. 

Y/N doesn’t look surprised when she opens the door. Just opens the door and shuffles back. Leah can see her bags packed on the floor next to the bed and the bed neatly made. 

Choosing to ignore the bags for now, Leah settles on the edge of the bed, “I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I really like you and I was hoping I could ease you into idea of being in a relationship again. Unpack your things, I’ll back off.”

“I liked it,” Y/N whispers, sitting next to Leah, “but, I’m not the guy that gets the girl, no happy ending.” 

“You already got the girl though,” Leah’s voice is soft as she speaks, “we can have the happy ending.”

“We can have the happy ending?’

“Not for a long time though, because we have to have a happy everything else first.”

Y/N tugs ones of Leah’s hands in her lap and rests head on her shoulder. Leah drops a gentle kiss to the top of her head.   

[pruneunfair]

Ranking all the OI and manhwa I've read part 2: the moderate.

The decent stories. Just a little better than average

The tyrants only perfumer

My favorite fast food webcomic to this very day. It's characters are tolerable and there's just something some satisfying looking at the perfume bottles, the little bottles remind me of those DIY kits they'd sell at target. That being said it's still a fast food manhwa, the characters are flat, the plot goes too quick and the villains are easily defeated so as much as I enjoy it when I just want to read something quick and light, it's not a good option for something more serious.

The empress wants to avoid the Emperor.

This was actually one of my very first manhwas I've ever read. I thought it was one of the greatest stories ever told when I was still in my revenge phase and it's definitely not terrible when I reread but it's not the greatest piece of literature either. Still for a basic revenge story at least Louise actually gets away her fuckass husband.

Tears of a withered flower

I like it, just not as much as everyone else likes it. I've already made a few posts on it and my current opinions still stay the same but besides all the self insert this and the predictable that the dialog definitely improves from cartoony to poetic. I'm just hoping the rampant misogyny problem in TOAWF is only a fandom problem and not something the author is planning on incorporating into every other woman that isn't Hae Soo

I will divorce the female leads brother

Okay I won't lie this one is kinda funny given how it calls out the absurdity of protagonist centered morality in a better way. Ethel as a protagonist is okay as protagonists go and while the villains are played off as stupid thats because the story actually plays into how idiotic they are instead of claiming they are the smartest around when they aren't, specifically the brothers and father. Also the Og fl of this one has by far the ugliest designs I've ever seen. It's the kind of design where you can tell the artist did not like her at all and gave her the Miku special with those unflattering color combos. I think the weirdest part is the implied incestuous feelings the family has for Reina but once again, it's meant to be seen as vile so it gets a little pass.

Into the light once again

The pain I went through when I realized the 14 year old Aisha was being paired up with guys way to old her with this one because it was so good before it just ruined what could've been 😔. Outside of the obvious I adore both Aisha and Marianne as polar opposites and characters that aren't immediately nice or honesty to Aisha aren't put to death, for the most part at least, they are allowed to grow as better people and get character development. The magic system is pretty easy to remember though I think Aisha can sometimes get too deep in her "super powerful nice girl" archetype but it's not to the point of being awful.

The empresses lipstick

more of a comedy than a traditional rofan but it works, it's one of the first I've seen to get the rococo style a little bit better than others. (It's still not the greatest accuracy but since it's meant to be silly it has more leeway) however it sadly is brought down by the fact that Jane is heavily implied to be on the younger side when her mom bugs her about school and implies that she'll be going INTO high-school implying she's 15-16 based on Korean school systems and she's already being paired up to marry male leads older than her.. damn you age gap trope and damn you 18th century for reminding me of gross yet true history. If it weren't for the fact that I can't remember anything about the ML's age this would be lower.

The villainess turns the hourglass.

What I think of when someone asks me to think of the OG era for manhwa. The concept of the hourglass is easy to follow and it actually comes with a drawback so Aria can't be too overpowered, the bright colors make it all pop and having an actual villain for the FL in a villainess story ties it all in, people can complain about how awful she is but villainess is literally in the title so..you get what you bargained for. There are still cons though about it I don't care for, first of all I wish Mielle could be an actual threat so there would be a fun ongoing mental battle between two evil women, Isis and Mielle could've been smarter as a duo, Asher could've had a little more personality and the twist that Aria was actually of noble descent all along really killed the charm of her being a commoner who could prove she was just as smart as the aristocracy.

Perks of being the villainess

Deborah's already climbing up the ranks of one of the prettiest FL in my opinion because that shade of purple is DIVINE! The plots rather basic as most villainess manhwa tend to go. Deborah is hated by everyone except instead of a backstory claiming she's misunderstood, the og Deborah was actually an asshole to everyone she met except for Pilav so it gave her an actual obstacle. I do think some of them went too fast but I'm just glad we actually got to see the effort being done at all. I'll admit this was better then I thought so it moved up on my tier list. My only complaints are that the chapters can sometimes drag on and on to the point of being bottle episodes.

I shall master this family

I would like this so much more but it drags on so much! Florentia was nice at first but as the chapters went on and on I was less impressed and just thinking "yeah this is just getting boring" with how many times you know she's gonna best her opponents, don't hate her but shes becoming a little too meh right now. That said I like reading it, definitely suffering from a overpowered MC that could use some work but when it comes to politics it's so much more interesting if you can get past that one major issue.

Pretty good: almost better then average but I either haven't read all of it to place it higher or if there's just better

I will become the villains poison taster

I love my underrated girlie's ✊️ the plot is certainly unique, Giselle has the strange of ability of being not only immune to poison but the poison also tastes like fruity snacks/drinks. It deserves a little more traction then what it gets, the ML Reniel actually has emotions instead of stoicism plus actual critical thinking skills because the FL acts nothing like the OG villainess and Giselle, despite how it may seem, isn't the born sexy yesterday trope, she's just allowed to be a sweet heart while still being a person. It's not much but it's still pretty good.

Serena

Fashion and character designs are absolute peak but plot comes before art. At first I was pretty harsh on Serena but when I actually read more of it to form a more concrete opinion I realized it's not the worst and actually got a little entertaining. As a FL Serena isn't bad, I like that she comes across as a nepo baby who needs to work hard to uphold her predecessors legacy so we have flaws to work with here and at the very least the story seems to be kinda self aware that Serena isn't a terrific person. It's also a drama not a romance so while I don't like either Eiser or Frederick as love interests at least Serena can say the romance isn't supposed to be the center of the plot.

Your throne

After so many people telling me how good it was I finally caved in and began reading last week but I already got spoiled so I know most of what happens. Obviously I like the fact that Medea and Psyche actually team up instead of hating eachother and even though it's through spoilers Psyche is my favorite. It's so dang long though it's probably gonna be a while before I make any your throne related posts. Only cons is it can sometimes get too boring to follow.

Seducing the villains father

Proof you can make a stereotypical rofan and it can still work. Yerenica is the perfect balance of girl failure and likeability where her flaws are very common for most people and yes while she is kinda dumb she's not so dumb it makes me wanna slam my head against the wall. Erudian is pretty good as ML's are concerned, just a tad basic and the villain Soleia isn't dumbed down either. Love the second half of the story which gives a little more focus on Yenis family instead of just her love life and while it does get cringe inducing and the plot tracks off from time to time, I still like it.

The crownless queen

The FL is a recently retired history expert who transmigrated in her daughters inaccurate novel and because of those inaccuracies, there are new problems to face while Delia has to survive in a world where Barons and Dukes are switched and she has to climb to social latter. There's little things that really prove how much thought was put into it (such as Delia not knowing the exact date in time shes set in since she's in a different world)

Beware of the villainess.

A little similar to your throne but it keeps my attention longer then the former. Once again women working together instead of being forced into enemies! Really like that! The Yuri baiting though? Boo 👎, don't tease the audience like that (especially considering the og fl is literally called Yuri) can be over the top but I think that's what makes it stand out, it means to be funny and in your face with Melissa's antics but the best character by far is Yona, home girl just wants that check and I can understand that feeling.

Another typical fantasy romance

I gotta stop procrastinating and finish this one!! 😭 first off, Pellus is my 2nd favorite ML with his design being my number 1 favorite in terms of character design. For once we have an actual cold duke who accurately looks intimidating instead of basic BTS member. Best part though: it is one of the greenest of green flag relationships to the point where Lithera and Pellus are worthy candidates to face off Pereshati and Therdeo in terms of who's the best manhwa couple. Actual communication instead of miscommunication that goes on for chapters, relationship actually has steady progression that's just in the middle of how they get to together and Lithera is a great FL. Then I found a bunch of other manhwa and forgot about this one until it came up in my head while I made my first tier list. It'll probably go up once I complete the story.

This one took longer then I expected but part 2 is finally out and now I have to start rereading for part 3.

[marabarl-and-marlbara]

Hi Mara,

I wanted to say that all of your writing feels extremely genuine, and I am inspired by the honesty and detachment in your retrospective posts, especially when talking about personal—external—influences. I rarely hear others say that their interest in X is simply gone, or admit that they like(d) Y because the ‘context’ seemingly urged them to. A pattern I often notice instead is personal attachment and the unwillingness to let go of ideas and things which no longer resonate or never really have in the first place.

I wish it was easy to distill all of one’s experiences and likes, remember why and how they came to be, be honest as to how one felt about them, separate the wheat from the chaff, and arrive at something that feels truly genuine and ‘you’.

It feels reductive and probably comes with projection on my part, but that’s the impression I get.

Hope the storm didn’t affect you and your family too much.

Good morning, anonymous--thank you very much for such a kind message!

I wrote about this more vaguely in last months subscriber post, reflecting on "how nothing seemed to scare me" lately and how baffling it seemed that people thought Stephen King's Apt Pupil was a terrifying horror story, and incidentally had been thinking about this during the period of having power but having no internet after Hurricane Milton--I had all these videogames I tried to play but realized they all felt completely boring and uninteresting without something to listen (my favorite streamer, my favorite podcast) to while playing (and in turn, that I needed to be doing something somewhat stimulating while listening to something); I had all these anime shows I could be watching, too, but again little interest because they were all just dead boring--and all I could really manage for myself were to read Henry James and rediscover my old Longmont Potion Castle collection to listen to until internet came back;

but, I don't know how much the genuine 'you' matters; I think about something a sculpture professor told me about the hippies and an adage they had that went kill your parents, and the professor added that it was meant not (always) literally, but to disentangle yourself from 'the origin' or: maybe: the most sacred and profane feelings you see yourself as being a-part of;

realizing I basically have zero interest in being an artist might have been a big hurdle for me to disentangle from way-back in Wilderness when I had some ego-fear of losing my identity as Marabarl and what that entailed: divulging everything about myself, being self destructive, seeming crazy, and using it all as oil to art--severing that all seemed like it would drive me more lonely and leave me with nothing but some bare-dry stick of a person that'd few people would be interested in (but glimpsing at this idea also spoke to how 'being an artist' had little to do with my own desire and more to do with maintaining 'connection' with 'invisible others'). I don't know if killing my parent there had left me a more true version of myself, but it severed connections I mostly kept entwined by wholly out of fear of the loneliness or of letting go of a familiar rot and pain. I'm far more boring than the older Mara, because really now all I'd like to do is go to my weekly sandwich shop, cook, clean, read, listen to audiobooks, be monotonously religious, and try to write bad fiction that I never finish because I keep rewriting the same few parts for months at a time.

There's a quote from a book I finished a few days ago, For Thy Great Pain Have Mercy On My Little Pain, by Victoria Mackenzie, that I really loved:

"When the day begins, we say that it is breaking. So with my life. Part of me had to be taken into pieces before I could truly start to live. For in my shewings Jesus had said, 'I shall shatter you for your vain passions and your vicious pride; and after that I shall gather you together and make you humble and meek, pure and holy, be oneing you to me.'

My will was broken and I am glad of it. I am only a thing that moves this broom and sweeps the curled leaves and corpses of insects from one side of my cell to the other."

Each layer of myself, as it seems with age, starts to seem more-and-more to be a vanity that I hold to myself well-after it has separated and shed, out of fear and comfort for the more simple figure that is underneath--morosely, I start to really believe the purest part of my-self comes with death when all has been shed away wholly and the carcass is left as the most simple and un-connected atom of Me, and for others: when the Left are shred out to ash and the Right are ate up to heaven; tears and emotion for the dead, too, a type of vanity over wishing that lost other to not be gone from the identity yet though it is truly just another vain callous now shed and clung-to: Dieth and Daniela who I keep getting mad at in fear of letting go-of;

but even in more simple ways--remembering old loves towards things like Narutaru and not wanting to let go because of how fond and warm they felt just a few years ago, and keeping that old passion around like it were furniture that had gone decrepit past any real function except favor; although, during Hurricane Milton, again between time of Power but no Internet, I rewatched some of FLCL and .hack//sign and wished I could be rewatching Hey Arnold's scary episodes--cause really no-matter how much I think I'm capable of letting go of things that seem all vain, boring, and worthless to the simple self, I am a simple creature who wants comfort in the familiar and to things I've loved and felt loved by. And, luckily, I still love Boogiepop! (I think it's easier to keep a love for those things around because they don't really remind me of bad-times as Narutaru does, but I'd like to always keep an effort to keep Hiroko and cute little Ensof in my heart)

Take care.

[fraudulent-cheese]

For the ramble prompts, 1. And 7

You're very lucky as i actually have access to my computer currently!!!

I'll pick 7, as i've already seen some people point out the differences between the twins but NO Staci analysis posts!

So. Staci. What the fuck is up with her. Why did she think lying about her family on a consistent basis and not helping in challenges would work? How exactly did that make her think it was the best she could do, to the point she thought she "was doing so well" (quoting her at her own elimination) after that first day?

I think Staci's goal while on the show was to win via social game - or at least, make friends on the show. Her lying could be due to either 1. wanting attention from them, so she started making shit up to make herself look more important or 2. she actually believes what she says and just wants to impress people with her family history. I don't think i can conclusively say which one canon's leaning into? Realistically, her exaggerating her family's achievements is the more likely option, but her actually believing them would be more tragic.

HOWEVER. Just looking at her one episode of content + her audition tape isn't enough. We need to look at her contestant biography.

YEAH IM GOING THERE! If you weren't aware, for the first 5 (6?) seasons of TD as well as TDRR, there were official biographies for every contestant depending on the season, all of which were available on the official (now defunct) Total Drama Website. I'd consider the information featured in all but two of these biographies canon, as they either came from the official website (ROTI + WT), the Teletoon site (TDAS + TDPI) or from Total Drama: Totally Interactive! Im unsure about the canonicity of the Action bios and the TDRR blurbs (because yeah. they're just blurbs. sad.) as they were released only on Cartoon Network's site and the Action bios have... inconsistencies with other sources, let's say.

Thankfully, Staci was lucky enough to be a gen 2 contestant, so she gets the most detailed contestant answers biography model, so i can get alooot more info out of them.

I'll get the smaller observations out first:

In her last answer, she mentions her great-great-aunt Mildred and how she "told the first lie." I could look into how this could be Staci's least favorite relative (as she does seem to value truth/honesty), but also what if that's Blaineley? Her legal name's Mildred after all! It would be really funny! We need more "Staci and her great aunt Mildred" content STAT

She seems to really like pop music

The only answer not related to lying or to her family is the First Job question, instead it's foreshadowing to her elimination

Now, for a larger one: She barely talks about herself in these answers. Sure, she answers the questions, but she spends the vast majority of her time talking about her family instead. She manages to link the fucking Favorite Color and Food question to them! Her love of her family is made very clear here. Knowing about them is literally what she picks out as her Best Quality!

...but only her distant relatives. No mention of closer grandparents, sisters, nephews/nieces, aunts/uncles, and only a single indirect mention of a mother. Only distant, mostly older family members and cousins. And she had to have met some of them! Her Craziest Dream answer describes a dream where her great-great-uncle Charlie was telling her lies, implying they've met and talked before! So where's the mention of her closer family members?

I'd say it's because if those family members are further away, or if they're dead, it's harder to fact-check what she's saying so her peers wouldn't find out it's at best an exaggeration and at worst an outright lie.

I think the answers that show this the most well are the Best Memory and Most Embarrassing School Moment, her presentation on an older family member and realizing the topic was a lie.

This feels like something that would happen earlier in life to me? Maybe primary school level, or even earlier. If she made her entire class project on it, she had to believe in it, right? Despite how absurd that notion is! This indicates to me that Staci was/is very naive, and her love for her family started in childhood. She seems very interested in her own family's history, to the point of exaggerating their accomplishments; maybe her great-great-aunt Lois created a plate design patent or her Great-great-uncle Jason simply looked into the history of the letter E, so either Staci exaggerated them to seem more interesting, or her family members would exaggerate these achievements at family reunions as jokes or something and little Staci just believed them.

Im also unsure on her family being good or not... her Dream Date answer is apparently Richard Nixon because she'd want to learn more about his life, specifically citing that he "reminds [her] of [her] third cousin once removed, Andrew." If you know anything about recent US political history, that is not a good thing. This also shows she has some interest in politics/recent history/other people's lives! This girl does have interests!!!

And this is where i bring up the Favorite Movie answer. The movie it's based on, according to the wiki, is "The Invention of Lying", a 2009 movie. skimming the Wikipedia article, it's a romantic comedy film about a guy with the ability to lie in a world where people can only tell the truth. He first abuses this power for selfish gain but in the romantic resolution decides to not lie to benefit himself and lets his love interest actually choose to be with him.

I think the reason why Staci likes this movie so much is the romantic resolution; this is what she'd want to happen if/when she'd reveal how her family's achievements are either fake or exaggerated to her friends, and they would stay. That she'd get people interested in her with those lies, before actually being honest with them when they're closer... But it never happened with anyone on the show.

TLDR, i need this girl to realise she doesn't need to lie so much about her family for others to like her, as hiding behind masks won't get you any real friends. Something that applies to the majority of the roti girls, actually.

[hellfiremunsonn]

Honesty. Steddie x Reader.

Honesty.

I DO NOT ALLOW MY WRITING TO BE REPUBLISHED ANYWHERE OTHER THAN MY OWN BLOG WITHOUT MY CONSENT

Summary: You lash out at your two boyfriends instead of being honest, they let you know you're always safe with them, and don’t need to feel afraid or embarrassed to use your safe word. 

18 + IF YOU ARE NOT 18 OR OLDER DO NOT READ OR INTERACT WITH MY WRITING. IT IS NOT INTENDED FOR MINORS. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME.

Warnings: fem!reader, steddiexreader, throuple relationship, dom!Steve, dom!Eddie, submissive!reader, babygirl!reader, allusions to subspace/littlespace, daddy kink, established sub and dom relationship, use of safe word, talk of safe word/rules. (IF THERES ANYTHING I MISSED LET ME KNOW)

Wordcount: 1775

AN: This is my first steddie fic so please be kind! Suggestions are welcome but don’t be a dick about it please... I left the ending kind of open, to give space for a part two of this situation/scenario so if you have any ideas for a part two or what you’d like to see Id be more than happy to discuss it! So feel free to send an ask my way about it if you’d like :) 

You're laying on the couch with your head in Eddies lap. Your forehead is resting against his stomach, one hand wrapped around him behind his back, smooshed between him and the couch while he plays with your hair, absentmindedly watching whatever movie had been left in the VHS. You had one of your feet lounging across Steves lap from where he sits at the other end of the couch, one of his hands touching your ankle while the other held a worn paperback.

Steve had made this a household rule that Sundays were for the three of you to spend time together, even if you all did separate things in the same room. Steve wanted you all to make the effort for each other, and for most of your relationship it really worked. Sometimes you all would go out to dinner, or have a movie night, and sometimes you all would just be in each others presence and it made you all that more fond of each other.

Today you were clingy, in a bit of a mood, but it didn't start to really affect you until later in the day. The boys had edged you for the past three days, and usually it was something you liked, and they never really made you wait too long until you could cum. They'd give you everything else to make you feel good in the meantime, but for some reason today it really bothered you. You felt gross, almost sick, and the ache between your legs made you restless, squirmy, and a bit bitter, but you tried to be good and keep it all together because you wanted to be good for your boys.

Eddie shifts under you. "Babes I gotta pee" he says leaning forward, assuming you're going to let him up, but you only hold onto him tighter.

"Baby c'mon" he laughs lightly.

"No" You whine, words muffled over your thumb that in your mouth, and in an instant Eddie then realized what kind of 'you' they'd be dealing with today when he noticed. It was something you didn't do often, but enough for Steve and Eddie to know how you were feeling when it happened.

Eddie looks up at Steve, giving him a look of confusion which Steve returns, sliding his thumb between the pages of his book to keep his place while he watches the interaction between the two of you.

"You wanna lay on daddy's lap while I get up?" he offers.

"No" Your voice is sad, laced with emotions you haven't let out yet and Eddie is a little unsure what he should do, especially because he really does need to pee.

"Baby, I love you, but you gotta get up" Eddie says sweetly, pulling you up from his lap with more strength than he anticipated needing.

"NO" You say loudly, holding on to him greedily. Cheeks already wet with tears, lips glossy with spit from where you held your thumb. You cling to him for as long as you can until he peels your limbs from him which only makes you more upset.

So you push his lingering hands away from you angrily once he's stood up in front of you, smacking at his chest in frustration before turning to face the couch, tucking yourself up into the corner where Eddie just was with your knees up to your chin.

Eddie looks at Steve again who just nods his head towards the direction of the bathroom.

Eddie mouths a "thank you" before kissing the top of Steves head and rushing towards the bathroom.

"Look at me princess" Steve says, and although his voice is quiet, you can still hear how domineering it is.

"No" you mumble deeper into the cushion. The couch shifts next to you and you know Steve has moved closer. "I don't remember asking you a question" His hand grabs at your chin, pulling it away from the couch, but you still fight back. Pulling your chin out of his grasp roughly.

"What's your issue?" he asks, his tone a little bitter and it only fuels the fire inside of you.

You huff, fresh tears rolling down your cheeks and when Steve leans forward to swipe at them you turn away from him.

"Look at me" he says again, and his voice this time makes you shiver. You turn your head slightly, peaking at him with one eye through your hair.

"On your knees" He says shifting back into the couch, man spreading widely and chucking his book onto the floor next to him.

You know better now than to ignore his instruction so you reluctantly slide off of the couch and onto your knees between his legs, hands on your thighs and your head down. You can hear Eddie return to the living room, stopping in the doorway to watch whatever is about to happen unfold.

"Do good girls hit their daddies?" Steve asked, crossing his arms over his chest. If it weren't for your sour mood your mouth would have watered at the sight of his biceps bulging in that stupid tight polo shirt he was always so partial with. You peek up at him through your lashes.

"You can talk" he confirms with a nod.

"No" you said quietly.

"What was that?" Steve said leaning forward, one hand cupping behind his ear.

"No, good girls don't hit-" you take a shaky breath. "Don't hit their daddies"

"No they don't- Eds come over" he said with the wave of his hand.

Eddie sat down next to Steve, arm instinctively going around the back of the couch behind Steves shoulders.

"Apologize" Steve orders.

"M'sorry for hitting you Eds" your voice has gone small. Smaller than before, it's high pitch and quiet while it wobbles with emotion.

"Thank you for apologizing baby" Eddie says with a soft smile.

"Now are you going to tell us what's going on in that little head of yours? Because I really don't think its a punishment you're after, but if you keep acting out like this it's exactly what you'll be getting"

You pout and look down, playing with your hands. "idontfeelgood" you say in a rush, lips barely moving to allow the words to slip past them.

"No mumbling baby" Eddie says.

You whine, rubbing your cheek against your shoulder. "I don't feel good" you finally say, eyes quickly shifting between the two boys before looking away from them again.

Steve leans forward so his elbows rest on his knees. "What kind of not good baby?" He's gone into full parental mode now, all fun and games out the window now that he knows his baby girl isn't feeling well.

You shrug and look down.

"Is it your tummy?" Eddie asks, sitting up so hes closer to you and Steve.

"A little bit" you say with a nod.

"Okay that's good" he encourages "What else baby?"

You're embarrassed, feeling overly shy, the words somehow unable to come out, so instead you just point between your legs before shoving your hands between the plush of your thighs, trapping them there.

"Oh" Steve says, and you can hear the slight smile in his tone but don't look up. "You usually like when we play like that right? What's different about it this time?" he asks, genuinely curious, no teasing or taunting behind his words.

"Made me feel yucky"

"Made you feel yucky" Steve repeats with a nod. He slides off the couch and onto the floor in front of you, tilting your chin up so he can see your face. "Baby you know you can always safe word, or tell us when something isn't fun anymore"

Your eyes well up with tears and you try your hardest not to let the sob out that's bubbled in your chest, but fail, bottom lip wobbling and a small whimper slipping through.

"Baby" Eddie coos, sliding down onto the floor with the two of you.

"I'm sorrrrryyyy" you cry. "I j-just want-ted to be good" you shudder when you inhale and Steve can't stand to not be touching you any longer so he pulls you forward and into his lap. You immediately bury your face into the middle of his chest, his arms wrapped tight around you.

"Baby you've been so good" Steve he says reassuringly. "Would cumming make you feel better?" he asks, rubbing a hand up and down your back while Eddie pushes away your hair from your face, so he can catch a glimpse at you from where your cheek is pressed against Steves middle.

"I d-don't know" you whine, more tears falling down your cheeks. "Everything feels wr-oonnngg"

"Shhhh it's okay baby, you're okay" He pulls you up a little closer to him, rocking side to side while rubbing your back. "Do you want to call red on this?" he asks and you whine into him. You really don't want to disappoint them, but you also really don't like the way it's been making you feel.

"But what about you and daddy?" you say quietly, just barely leaning back from him to look between the two of them.

"It's only fun if we're all having fun princess" he reassures, peeling away pieces of hair that cling to your wet face. "S'always okay to safe word baby"

You look at him for a moment longer, glancing at Eddie who's hand rubs soothing circles on your thigh with his thumb.

"O-okay" you say with a nod.

"Yeah?" Eddie says, voice light and full with adoration. "You gotta say the word though baby"

You pout and whine, fresh tears forming but you still take a deep stuttering breath. "Red" you finally say while a new wave of sobs hit you.

"Good job baby" Eddie coos, hand coming up to rub your back while you shove your face back into Steves chest.

"Did so good baby, were so proud of you" Steve says while kissing your hairline. "What can we do to make you feel better?" he asks softly, watching Eddie with curious eyes as he gets up and runs up stairs.

You shrug, shamelessly wiping your nose against the fabric of his shirt, trying to steady your own breathing.

"You wiping your boogers on me sweet girl?" Steve teases, and it makes you giggle.

"Little bit" you admit, rubbing your nose into him more aggressively to tease him back.

"Dirty little girl, what are we going to do with you!" he squeezes at your waist and you squeal, finally feeling some sense of normality come back to you. The two of you jump at the sound of the tub turning on upstairs .

"I guess Eddie has an idea" you say with a smile, knowing already that the bath will be filled with bubbles, and your favourite scented candle will be lit on the countertop.

[anm3mi]

HOMESICK ─ NETEYAM ⊹ ִֶָ

contents. fem!omaticaya!reader, drabble, fluff, comfort

notes. just pure short fluff💌💌 requests are still open, btw!!

the eclipse was near. stars littered the night sky, the moon throwing a soft glow upon the sleeping village, as the waves lulled everyone to sleep. everyone - except for you and neteyam.

with his body laying on the sand covered ground, neteyam inhaled sharply through his nose, his hand caressing your arm that laid across his stomach, his touch gentle as a feather, while your head rested on top of his chest. your gaze was glued to the sea in front of you, mesmerized by the glistening waters - neteyam's peaceful heartbeat comforting you aswell.

ever since you and the sully's left to join the metkayina clan, searching for shelter, your heart has been aching for the forest you pined deeply. you missed being surrounded by the large, but beautiful nature, flying your ikran for hours on end, before taking a break by resting on a high branch - hidden in the crown of the many growing trees. but most importantly, you missed the nights you would spend with neteyam at the tree of voices in each others arms. it was the same place the two of you have confessed your love to one another.

"i miss it." you muttered against neteyam's chest. "what?" furrowing his brows, neteyam's eyes fluttered open, as he looked down at your frame. "i miss the forest." you repeated once again - this time more clearly. at your words, neteyam couldn't help, but let out a sigh. "i know... i do, too." squeezing your arm in an assuring manner, he whispered, earning a small hum in response.

"don't get me wrong-" you begun, swiftly sitting up, as you had the undying urge to explain yourself. "this place is beautiful." looking around, you explained, before letting out a shaky breath. "but i still miss the forest. i miss it so much." you whispered the last part, your chest tightening. neteyam's eyes could only follow you, as his expression softened. he knew the forest the two of you grew up in held a special place in your heart - just like it did in his.

"you know what i miss?" placing his hand on top of yours that rested in your lap, neteyam asked, earning an interested look from you. "flying our ikrans for hours." he explained, his lips twitching into a small smile. "and then complaining about sore muscles or getting scolded for staying out past eclipse." letting out a chuckle, you added. neteyam playfully rolled his eyes in response. "the sore muscles and my dad scolding us was worth it." pulling you closer to his chest, neteyam clarified with a small grin. "yeah..." you let out a soothing sigh, the soft smile never leaving your face, as you leaned into neteyam's touch - stomach fluttering with butterflies.

"do you think we'll ever go back? even just for a visit?" once again, you lowered your voice into a whisper, before biting the inside of your cheek. you weren't sure you'd ever see the forest or your friends again. so silently, you begged neteyam for an answer - an assurance of some sort. "i don't know, y/n." neteyam replied with honesty, his shoulders slumping at his own words. "hopefully, we will." carefully grabbing your chin, neteyam tilted your head to the side to face him - his expression filled with determination. "however, i'll do everything in my power for you to visit the forest again. i promise." neteyam placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"it's a deal." you grinned at the older boy. "but just so you know- i'm still glad i went with you and your family." eyes focusing on the scenery in front of you, you simply announced. "i am glad too." neteyam added, and you didn't even need to look him in the eyes to know he was telling the truth. comfortable silence fell over the two of you.

even with your heart aching for the forest you missed so deeply, you came to a realization - home is wherever the two of you are together. so as long as neteyam was by your side, you were home.

[boyinafandom]

Hitting The Curve

Notes;

Modern day au

Y/n is gender neutral

_________

Spencer, knew he liked you. It was only friendly of course. Your his coworker.

Why would he ever want to date you? Sure, you’re just as smart as him, listen to him rant on and on without getting bored. And-Oh- another thing, out of every one in and outside of the office he seems to be the only person you’re ever actually nice to.

So he didn’t really understand why he got this tingling all over his body and why his mind went blank and his face got hot when you simply leaned on his arm..ok maybe let me be more specific..

You, him and Derek, had been talking about how much you liked cd’s, he doesn’t really remember how you guys got here, because he was reading and only inserted himself into the conversation when you asked what kind of music he liked.

“Classical.”

He stated simply

(This is important for later)

After a few seconds to long of silence, he spoke up again

“Or opera”

He watched you nod, Not really caring what Derek had to say in this moment, that’s what was odd about how he felt about you. He craved you’re attention. He yearned for it.

But anyway. Back to the story.

“Uh huh..”

You nodded

“I don’t really listen to music though, I prefer vinyl’s in all honesty”

He did.

“Oh yes! That was the subject at hand.”

You lightened

“I prefer cd’s, I do use my phone for music, of course,it’s only natural this day In age. But I just like the feel of having a physical copy of things.”

“I should know, I’ve seen the atrocious amount of cd racks you have in your living room”

Derek chimed. Chuckling. But all Spencer could think about was that Derek Morgan. The womanizer, got himself into your house, and did what?

“Well duh. Everyone saw it.when I said “don’t mind the racks” I wasn’t talking about money. I literally meant racks. Like of CD’s.”

You rolled you’re eyes playfully, like it was some big inside joke he wasn’t apart of…

“Uh- if I may ask- what kind of music do you listen to?”

He felt like a kid, asking out the hottest girl in his freshmen class (who. For him, was like 4 years older then him. Not the point but also…kind of the point)

“You may”-you Plato-“I listen to a lot of stuff, it’s kind of hard to explain it, it really depends on my mood in the moment. But if I had to pinpoint a specific genre it would probably be /insert your favorite/ most listened to genre here/ but over all I listen to just about anything.”

You shrug, pleased with you’re explanation.like a content cat.

“I actually have a few on me right now”

You only really seemed happy when you talked about things you liked…you were happy when you talked to him…so by proxy,you liked him..

“Oh god..here we go…”

Derek practically groaned

He heard Rosie chuckle on the other side of the jet

You smile, and pull out a CD holder

“Oh that looks like a lot more then a few..”

Spencer says, kind of just staring at it, like he’s trying to find something interesting to say, but he just can’t, like, the words won’t come to him.

And then it’s like your brain sparks a wire

“What if I got you a CD? Any one you want, I’ll find one and get it for you? How does that sound?”

You say, leaning on his shoulder and smiling

“You don’t have to answer, I’m gonna get you one anyway…trust.”

And like that his heart was on fire.

That was the moment he realized he was in love with you, or, that it was leading to love, that It would get that far. That he liked you as much as he did, the way you smiled, and leaned against his arm in the jet seat, how you, looked at him. The boy genius. The man who’s only good trait was his brain.

Time froze. Thank god for his memory. Because he’s never gonna forget this moment. ever.

___

This is also on wattpad! So if you want to keep up with it easer the tag is “boyinafandomtumblr”

:3

Part 2

[shinycrybaby]

Clueless (Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader)

Genre/Tags: Angst?, Kinda hurt comfort, Fluff, No curses AU, Shoko/Sugu Established relationship AU, One sided love, Acquaintances to ----

Warnings: Satoru is clueless about love

Word Count: 2.6k

Synopsis: Fate was cruel to give you the shorter end of the string when it came to your love life. But it can potentially change, if you were ready to change that.

A slow indie song was playing in the room. Couples danced slowly on the dance floor, however still giving space to two people who were the stars of the night.

There, you sat from the bar stools of the bar, admiring two of the most important people in your life. There’s happiness flowing in your veins as you watched the two lovingly sway to the music on the dance floor.

And yet, there’s a looming feeling of envy and sadness. But above all, you felt lonely amidst all the love that was floating in the venue’s atmosphere. To see your dear older cousin married to the one she loves. The one you love. It was giving you a jumble of emotions you dare not comprehend.

“Your plus one not asking you for a dance?” A deep voice makes itself known beside you. You see a beautiful man with a mop of white hair that was styled cleanly.

“Don’t have one.” You replied shortly, downing the wine that was perched up in front of you on the bar’s counter.

“Why is that?” The man initiates a conversation. You really didn’t want to be conversing with anyone especially with how your heart was trying to keep up with all that’s currently unfolding.

“He just got married.” You dismissed, signalling for the bartender to give you another glass of wine.

“Oh...” There was a moment of silence until the man turned to you again, this time with eyes wide as saucers. “Oh shit! Damn. I’m sorry.” He quickly realized as he understood the connotations behind your sentence.

You waved him off, signalling that it didn’t really matter anymore.

There was another brief silence, this time there was awkwardness, as the man ordered himself a non alcoholic drink. Too sweet at that.

“What’s your relation to the groom?” He asks after taking a sip of his drink.

You sighed, the alcohol doing the talking for you.

“I’m his childhood friend. Shoko’s cousin.”

The man reacts once more. This time in pleasant surprise.

“Little Y/n!” He exclaims, somehow a bit too enthusiastic.

You turned to him, shocked because there’s only one person who’d ever call you that.

Your reaction garnered him to answer the question that was clearly written on your face. “Gojo Satoru. Suguru talks about you a lot.” He holds out his hand to introduce himself.

At the name, you clearly recognised, you then express, “oh! You’re the bastard that got into a fist fight once with Sugu!”

Satoru flinches as he retracts his hand. “Damn, bastard is a bit too far fetched isn’t it little lady?” He chuckles.

You flush in embarrassment. “Sorry. A bit of a bad habit. I get too protective over Suguru...”

Satoru looks at you, and thinks how you must feel. He wouldn’t understand, in all honesty, but for some reason he feels bad. There on the little bar on the corner of the reception area of where you both were, overseeing everything that is happening. Overseeing the couple in love. His two best friends who are in love and are completely clueless of how your heart is breaking.

“Suguru, huh.” He whispers, looking down at his drink.

There was silence before you cut through it with your voice. Downed with the lingering taste of wine, the alcohol making its work of you spitting out truths your heart kept.

“You know, it’s unfair. I fell in love with him first... I loved him first, and I still do.” Your eyes stung with hurt at the deep realization. You kept going, “and yet... I can’t seem to get mad at them. At Shoko... Nor at Suguru.”

You looked over to the two, who were still peacefully dancing slowly without a care in the middle of the room. “I’ve never seen him look at someone with so much love, that it hurts.”

Satoru was never good with comforting others. He had other means of comforting people, but he didn’t know if you’d be comfortable with his means. Especially since you’re Shoko’s younger cousin. One wrong move and he knows his best friend would be up his ass beating him up if he made you uncomfortable.

And so, he watches you hold back the tears, even if it was clear with how the lights of the place were reflecting on your glassy irises.

He watches you heave in a deep breath. “This sucks.” You huff. And it brings a chuckle to bubble out of Satoru. You look over to him, glaring.

He turns away, “I’m sorry for laughing.” After calming down, he then speaks up. “This place is getting stuffy. Wanna get out of here?”

You pause, looking at him incredulously. “What so you can beat me up too?”

Satoru gasps dramatically. You’re far from how he envisioned you to be. He thought you to be angelic and innocent and cheerful like how Suguru paints you out to be. But here you were, a mess of emotions and sassing back at him whenever you find the chance. Not that he found an issue with it. You’re human and are allowed to feel and express all these emotions.

“That was one time!” He whines, finishing his sweet drink in one go.

You huff, “you know what. Fine. I needed some fresh air anyways.” You hop off the bar stool, straightening out your dress, grabbing the wine glass and downing it quick as well.

You stagger a bit, grabbing on to the edge of the countertop. You let out a sigh, before an arm offers itself for you to hold from your peripherals.

“Didn’t know you were a gentleman,” you grin teasingly, grabbing on to Satoru’s arm as he walks you two out of the room to a path going to the venue’s garden.

Satoru puffs out his chest in pride. “Of course, I am.” His nose was pointed in the air as he boasts.

You roll your eyes, bantering back, “you just don’t want to get beat up by Shoko.”

Satoru shivers, “yes. That too.” He admits. Of course, he wouldn’t let you off to places that are weird especially when you’re drunk. With all the stories that Suguru and Shoko share about you, it’s clear that they both treat you as their precious little sister, and if harm were to come your way, they would both beat everyone up.

Precious little sister...

Fate was quite brutal. Making fun of other’s feelings. How unfortunate were you to pull the shorter string of life. To have his friend talk about you for hours because the man adores you as if you were his flesh and blood. And then you’re there falling in love.

You both reach the venue’s garden. The place was too neat, no grass out of place. It was too organized for your taste. There was no hint of the natural, chaotic growth, everything was trimmed to perfection.

“Do you want to walk around, or just sit down?” Satoru asks, gently holding back your arms that wrapped itself around his as he carefully led you around, aware of how you’ve taken more than a glass of alcohol tonight.

“Nah. Walking can help me sober up. I hate sleeping when I’m drunk, gives me too much of a headache in the morning.” You say, grimacing at the thought of waking up with a bad hangover.

Satoru nods. He’s experienced that once. And to say the least, he doesn’t want to go through it again.

You both shared a moment of silence, just enjoying the view of the pampered landscape. You gaze up to the stars and think.

“Where’s your plus one?” You ask back to the snow haired man.

He looks at you before looking back ahead, guiding you away from a stone that almost sent you tumbling down.

He smiles easily, “I don’t like bringing one. They either use me for clout, or try to get me in their bed right after the events.”

You frown at that. “That’s horrible. Why would people do that.”

Satoru looks at you. He somehow gets why Suguru gushes how angelic you are. It’s because you are. Even with that statement alone, he’s got a glimpse of how nice and kind your whole being is.

“People like that deserve to rot for real. Like, get some decency at least. People are not objects for others to use. What the fuck.” He chuckles at that.

Even if you have a way with words.

“Yeah, they deserve to rot, don’t they?” He smiles your way.

And you held your breath for a short while at how the moon reflects on both his snow-white hair and sapphire like eyes. His lips could rival the shine of a diamond’s twinkle, as well as a pillow with how soft and plump it looks. He absolutely looks ethereal. Other worldly. Almost as if Aphrodite’s male version.

Pretty...

Satoru’s eyes widen before he looks away. He was sure you didn’t mean for that to be heard. Maybe it’s because you’re drunk that you’re not aware of some things you say or do, but he’s not going to point it out.

The rest of your walk, he spends it looking ahead, leading you safely around the garden before you finally raised your white flag after feeling that the heels were killing your feet.

A shiver comes down your spine as you both find your way back to the venue. Rustling was heard before you feel warmth wrap around your shoulders.

You looked down seeing that Satoru rested his coat around your bare shoulders. You didn’t even notice that he’d untangled your wrapped arms for him to remove his outerwear.

You flash him a tired grin. “You know, if you keep treating me this way, I might just fall for you.” You tease, the tired smile never leaving.

He holds his hand to his chest, bowing, “it would be an honor, my lady.” He gives a princely smile before bursting out into fits of giggles. You reply back with a chuckle of your own.

You wear the coat properly to access more of the warmth, before holding on to Satoru’s arm. He holds onto your hand again, making sure you don’t trip.

You both return to your table, only noticing now that Satoru has always been sharing the same table as you. It’s crazy to think that someone with presence as great as him would go unnoticed all because you’ve been tending to your broken heart.

He leads you to your seat, leaving with the promise of getting you something to drink and eat to sober you up quickly.

The music has been changed to something livelier as adults and even kids crowded the dance floor. You watch, but then turn away because right now you just wanted to go back to the hotel and pass out.

Satoru came back, scooting his seat closer to yours, handing your glass of water and a slice of cake. You mutter your thanks to him as you eat the slice he gave, and drink slowly from the glass.

Satoru watches you and then the crowd. He notices that the stars of the night are making their way to your table.

“Not gonna dance, kiddo?” Shoko asks, playfully ruffling—or messing up—Satoru’s prepped hair.

The man glares at the bride, slapping her hand away and combing through his hair that was gelled and combed by Nanami. “Jesus, woman. You’re ruining Nanamin’s hard work.”

Shoko snickers as Suguru bellows out a hearty laugh. “Come on, get your ass up and look for someone to dance with, Satoru.” Suguru sends a knowing wink at the man.

The couple were about to tease and make more suggestive comments to Satoru, until they noticed a head falling on Satoru’s shoulders.

Shoko was about to shoot him a curious look at who was he with until she noticed the familiar mop of hair peeking out of Satoru’s form that held the flower pins, she picked out especially, for you.

She would have noticed you earlier if it weren’t for Satoru’s larger frame covering your smaller ones, and with the familiar coat you were wearing. She nudges her husband.

Suguru then takes notice. And then he glares.

Satoru was fixing your position on his shoulder to make you were more comfortable as he noticed that you fell asleep right after eating. He then turns to look back to the couple. Shoko was giving him a cheshire like grin, while he received the most disapproving dad look from Suguru.

And it dawned on him the situation you both were in.

“It’s not what it looks like!” He was about to flail his arms until he was reminded of the weight on his shoulder. You were like a cat he didn’t want to disturb from sleep.

“Doesn’t look like it to me,” Suguru crosses his arms.

Shoko huffs, “oh, come on. Y/n is not a kid. Let her be.” Satoru was sure this conversation was lost in translation.

“Shoko, it’s Satoru.” Suguru replies in exasperation, gesturing at the seated man. And then he turns to his best friend, “no offense bro.”

Satoru wanted to be offended but then he understood where Suguru was coming from. “None taken.”

“It’s not like Satoru is going to court her or something,” and then Shoko looks at her friend who was frozen still on his seat. “Are you?”

Satoru huffs, annoyed, “what, I can’t do things out of the goodness of my heart now?”

“You don’t.” The couple replies simultaneously.

“Oh, come on!” He whines, arms throwing in defeat.

His volume sends you shifting around in your seat, eyes scrunching and forehead creasing in discomfort at the sudden movement and volume. He shifts in surprise before fixing your position again, rubbing soothingly at your coat covered shoulder to help you go back to sleep.

Shoko watches in amusement with softened eyes. She knows it already, but Satoru might have to figure things out for some time. Suguru sighs in defeat, but then the thought of Satoru settling down for once had him smiling. Because the Gojo Satoru would never settle. Would never treat anyone like this with a sincere and familiar gentleness like he does with his adoptive son, Megumi.

“If you do anything stupid, I’m ending that fist fight you started back in high school.” Suguru narrows his eyes jokingly at Satoru, except his words weighed with an honest promise, and some threat. The man then leaves, tending to the other guests.

Shoko pats her friend’s head. “You take of her for me, okay? I trust you, Satoru.” She then follows her husband’s direction.

Satoru stays baffled.

What the hell were they talking about?

Satoru was clueless.

He looks at you sleeping peacefully. Almost too peacefully, despite the dark circles the was evident even under the layers of makeup.

How many nights have you stayed up because you were too broken, thinking of this fated day, that you’re quick to pass out in the comfort of an acquaintance’s presence?

He didn’t know.

But what he did know was that you deserved to be this peaceful even when awake. To not be spacing out and on the verge of tears every second seeing that you had your heart broken for years.

Because you were his friends' precious little sister, he saw that it’s his duty as their friend to treat you the same. To treat you with all the genuine care you needed.

Yeah. That’s it.

---

He convinces himself, his heart beating a beat too fast as he pulls you closer to his side. Snuggling to the warmth you both shared, as he leaned his head to rest on top of yours, closing his eyes.

© July 2022, shinycrybaby. All rights reserved. Reposting is prohibited.

A/N:

This is another one of my works during my study burnouts 🥲 It's been in my drafts for some time now, so I thought I'd publish it! Please let me know your thoughts about it!

[oatmealcrisp-freak]

Yuuri Katsuki has Bullied Kid energy.

Yuuri : Don't you dare see me as weak or perceive my vulnerability. Please comfort me and reassure me. I'll be constantly afraid of your reaction if I inconvenience you. Nothing scares me more than the people I trust lying to me. I'm more competent and at home in the face of people's scorn than in the face of their genuine love for me. The idea that anyone could see me as desirable is baffling. The world sees me as little more than dirt and I don't disagree with them. I am going to make them eat their teeth with their words or so help me I will set myself on fire trying. Just watch, I am the most beautiful woman in town and you will rue the day you underestimated me. How you like me now?

Victor, thinking he'd been dumped by the first person who'd made him happy in a very long time : I see this, I respect this, I am going to use the hell out of this. Hey. Hey fatty. Watch me pry the thing you love and use to cope with your feelings right out of your fingers until you lose weight. kinda reminiscent of what you did to me :) kinda sorta you know just a lil bit. You don't know what eros is? Okay, now you're just making fun of me.

Victor, after Yuuri had his katsudon eros realization : ...JFC he actually literally doesn't know. I. Uh. ...Huh. Well. Uhm. Okay. Maybe that means he doesn't get OTHER things too. He. He genuinely doesn't know what he did to me. He probably didn't even do it deliberately. Okay. Okay? Okay. I can work with this. THINK OF THE JUICY SUCCULENT PORK, BABE. ...I can't fkn believe this.

Victor, several episodes later when Yuuri reveals he literally doesn't remember the banquet: ...Well shit. The past year of my life has been a lie and I might be an asshole. Hm.

I've read some fics where after Yuuri's ED gets triggered and he crashes hard Victor looks back at all those early comments and goes 'I didn't mean it that way babe you're hot when you're fat and you weren't even that fat it was just that it could be unsafe for your joints to skate in that condition' and sure okay I get wanting to minimize the blow and Yuuri is adorable AF when he's heavier and i still enjoy those fics for the most part but

I disagree with that fully and completely cus nah, Victor's a petty lil bitch who can be cold and ruthless and isn't afraid to hurt people. Is he also warm and kind and loving and doing his best? Yes. He contains multitudes. But he was absolutely aiming to hurt, because he was hurt.

Yuuri, meanwhile, who's been bullied for a great majority of his childhood but has complete faith in Victor and unwavering confidence in his honesty - especially when that honesty fits his world view - that he has an entire Victor shaped blind spot : Eh? Pfft. He wasn't bullying me, what are you talking about? He was literally telling the truth. :/ I mean really, he was taking care of me.

Victor, falling to the ground and clutching his stomach with a groan because ooouuugghhh guilt-nausea : Y-....Yuuri.....

Yuuri : I mean Yurio can be a bully but that's just how he shows he cares so :3 Nah haha, I've had waaaay worse, trust me, lol

Yurio : ....I would very much like to be excluded from this narrative, one that I have never asked to be a part of?

Victor, convulsing :

I think Yuuri can absolutely pick up on when Victor is being dishonest with him and poking his sharp little fingers into the sore spots, but more on an intuitive level that he doesn't know how to make sense of logically, so he just accepts it and moves on largely without comment a;dlkf he'll probably figure it out like fifteen years down the road when he's older and wiser and one day he squints at his husband and goes "...huh, okay" and then never does anything about it anyway because he loves Victor and forgives him and also Victor's hot when he's being mean so

[justatalkingface]

what's your opinion on the big 3? When I was hyperfoxed on this series they were the thing I care Abt the most (I enjoyed season 4, obv I'd change some stuff now but I still remember it being atleast ok)

I hate how dirty they did my girl nejire, as far as I'm aware they didn't even do anything with her after the whole pagent thing she just got a small backstory about how she was sad (don't know all of it I haven't been keeping up that well w the manga)

mirios not having a quirky and having to save eri (a girl who I can't imagine would be that skilled at the age she is and has been training on lizards to give his quirk back all together, I'd imagine it taking a few more months but bnhas time is shit so) and coming back in the war arc to punch one person and then basically do noting iicr

The only decently written one was amajiki, I wish they had more going on I think they have a fun dynamic (w them helping taking care of eri and me rlly liking idk what it's called but I love the fluff it brings) :(

Lots of mixed feelings, in all honesty. Lots of mixed feelings.

I'll admit, a big part of my mixed feelings about them is they showed up as the latest, 'Stomp on Izuku's everything' at the point in the story where it was becoming obvious that there was always something stomping on Izuku, and that gave me a bad first impression on them I've never been able to shake... which isn't helped by how they're connected to the clusterfuck of Nighteye, of all people, which is kind of my whole thing with Mirio (warning; I am biased):

As a person, he's obviously nice, but as a character, basiclly his entire reason for existing was, 'give Izuku an existential crisis' and I don't think I've ever forgiven him for that, really. His entire character is just bigger, stronger, older, happier, more capable, more confident, more successful, more loved Izuku, who had a Quirk his whole life and only had to dig deep to find out how strong it, and he, was all along.

Unironically. It's....

It's a really bad look, to be blunt; he feels kind of like a bad fanfiction character written by a bad writer who wanted to put their super special OC in the story, except he's canon.

Since we've never seen him even think something unheroic, there's really nothing that distinguishes him from that impression factual statement, which, again, makes it hard for me to give a shit about him, or even remember him... which is a problem Hori seems to share, lol. It doesn't help that I loathe Sir Nighteye and that most of his development time is spent admiring him, to boot, and that his parts of the story are either empty or focused on a living plot device I can't quite like no matter how hard I try because of how blatant the emotional manipulation is about the biggest story breaking, SOD shattering plot device until Stars and Stripes showed up.

If he ever got any kind of development to flesh him out a human being rather than being either Izuku and/or a heroic archetype, it'd help, but beyond all of that his biggest personality trait is liking jokes, and that barely even comes up. Or, rather, considering both the Final Arc and his response to Bakugou's name, along with Nighteye's own tendencies, 'jokes', maybe.

He doesn't deserve it, I admit it, it's not his fault, but I just can't get past that. He also doesn't deserve to just be forgotten until his big moment of a butt joke, but... MHA, everyone. In all honesty, I'd just like him better if his entire story arc didn't exist in and as some of the worst parts of the Overhaul arc, but he's tainted by that fact.

I freely admit that I am unfairly biased against him, so take all of that with a mountain of salt.

As a side note though, god, the story doesn't seem to realize how badly Nighteye is using the poor kid; Mirio thinks Nighteye is training him because he's worthy, while Nighteye mainly seems to be doing it because he's the closest thing to an All Might clone he can get, bar him actually cloning All Might, even if he grew to like him for who he is. I'm not sure Nighteye ever thought of Mirio with just his Quirk as anything more than a temporary situation; even at the start of canon, when on his own merits he's rising to fame with how successful he is, Nighteye's overall focus is still about getting AFO into the kid.

I almost wish I could see Nighteye explaining how all of his training came down to getting All Might's Quirk, just to see MIrio react and tear Nighteye down a peg about it, except Hori's history of handling these kinds of things means he'd never be allowed to be properly offended on his own behalf, the poor bastard.

Moving on, Tamaki. Out of all of them, he's had the biggest of an on-screen story arc, and in a intellectual way his Quirk is easily the most interesting. Unfortunately, while he has a personality, it feels so bland at times that he's far easier to remember for his Quirk than who he is.

I liked his story, really, but at the time it was overshadowed by Mirio and his everything, and by the time he showed back up it was clear how irrelevant it and he was, so it was more about how (admittedly, very) cool he get his Quirk to be than it was about him, and with some brutal honesty, it's probably because his Quirk is so interesting that he even got that much focus beyond that initial arc by Hori.

And... Nejirie.

In a combat sense she's easily the best of them, really; Mirio is almost purely defensive, which limits him (especially if he's not surprising someone with it) while Tamaki's Quirk, while flexible, is so conditional in ways that can easily hold him back (we only ever see him fight with full preparation; if he's not gearing for a fight he'd be easy to ambush), and like a lot of things in the Final Arc, his big laser canon thing is.... questionable.

Nejirie, though, is just simply powerful. In a setting where everyone has one power and one main application of that power, where you either fly or blast things, but not both, she's the closest I've seen to a 'traditional' super hero, like you'd see in Marvel or DC.

At the same time, though, out of the three of them she least has a story, for obvious reasons, and it's a disgrace, really. If Hori had just spent some time on her, on the her backstory that apparently exists (yeah, I'm not sure where that is either), she could have been so interesting... but really, all she is is the Girl Teammate. Her personality traits are The Girl Teammate's personality traits. She's just The Girl Teammate stamped over all of the interesting stuff, and it's such a waste, it really is.

And finally, as a unit? The Big Three is a shiny toy that Hori forgot in the corner somewhere as soon as he got bored with it. He spent a few minutes oohing and aahing over them, focusing really hard on developing interesting powers, how they could be used, and how strong they were, only to start to lose interest as soon as those powers were established, and he was writing the three of them off before their introductory arc was even over.