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sunsents · 4 years ago

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The Cardigan - F.W 18+

My first ever post and it's a goddamn smut one shot. This has been in my Wattpad drafts for way too long (wrote it three-four months ago), it's not the best, and I'm not proud of the writing but et eez what et eez. I really wan't to start publishing my work and gotta start somewhere. Also the smut is shitty, and the dirty talk is just goddamn vile. Also I'm a horny mf.

Summary ---> "Is that mine? You look better in it than me, that's for sure." An intimate night with Fred after you guys find the house all to yourselves. This is just pure filth, like scroll if you wan't plot. 🌚

Pairing: fred weasley/fem!reader

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: smut / overstim if u squint / cursing / thigh tiding / dirty talk / fred being a horny little shit / an attempt at innuendos / hand-job / cum play (?) / like one ass slap

Rating: 18+

DON'T REPOST MY WORK

The bathroom at the Weasley's were quite cramped, but you didn't care. Your shower was more than satisfactory, the wavering smell of Mrs. Weasley cooking downstairs mixing with the wonderful scent of Fred's shampoo. The hot water loosened all your fatigued muscles - those extra hours out on the field playing Quidditch was worth it - your muscles were taut, flexing wonderfully whenever you lifted your arm to rinse off the products in your hair.

When you opened the door of the bathroom, clouds of hot air escaping and surrounding the small corridor, you were surprised to hear no footsteps, loud chattering of your friends and the usual plates clinking in the kitchen. You figured going downstair naked wouldn't be a good idea, and entered Ginny's room.

The disheveled bedroom was empty, and you looked out the window to the vast garden and wheat fields that got darker with the hot summer night approaching. There was no sign of anyone and you were starting to get anxious. Maybe it was because of the unusual silence - the Weasley household always had some kind of chaos happening - nevertheless, you quickly slipped on some satin shorts and a soft, white knit sweater to keep the evening breezes at bay. After swiftly drying your hair with a towel - you were letting it air dry, Cosmopolitan said Cindy Crawford did it - you applied whatever product was routine for your body and left the room.

Your magical radio was playing a soft jazz from the den and immediate relief washed over you when you stepped downstairs. The creams and perfumes that stuck to your skin wafted around the air and filled the rooms with delicious essences, and your soft socks slipped and slid across the wooden floor to the kitchen as you pushed yourself with ease. You quickly caught yourself with a chair and laughed, being alone wasn't so bad, you figured you could find ways to entertain yourself.

Until, a low chuckle from the den caused you to yelp and almost fall on your ass, merlin forbid. You couldn't bear another injury after George two left feet Weasley accidentally kicked you on the shin while playing Quidditch.

Speaking of Weasley, Fred Weasley was sprawled out on the couch, wearing only his boxers and a long, loosely knitted cardigan sitting on his exposed skin. You felt your mouth water, his head was lazily thrown back, exposing his curved neck and Adam's apple, his freckles more noticeable than ever. He was staring at you, his lips tugging a smile and enjoying the show you put on. Humiliation, is what it was. You were sliding around floorings like Madame Maxine on ice.

Your blood suddenly felt on like liquid fire, and you opened the cupboards to get yourself a glass of water. "Aguamenti," you casted, and from the corner of your eye you saw Fred's gaze set on your exposed legs, trailing up to your ass that was slightly exposed from the length of your shorts. They rode up more when you stood on your toes to place the cup back on the shelf after chugging the liquid down and muttering a cleaning spell.

"Is that mine?" you cleared your throat, finishing up in the kitchen and walking over to one of the rocking chairs. You didn't know why Fred was sitting around practically naked - you didn't question because he was Fred Weasley and you were tired. You weren't complaining etiher.

"Yeah," Fred said breathlessly. "It's surprisingly comfortable."

"You look better than me in it, that's for sure." You chuckled darkly, eyeing his provocative muscles. The hickeys you had left from a few days ago were slightly healed, soft reds trailing his nape and they weren't helping the growing desire between your legs. "Where is everyone?" you asked.

Fred quickly noticed your poorly hidden lustful stares and moved the cardigan away with a sly smirk, revealing more of his abs and flexed thighs. "They went out to Diagon Ally, won't be back until ten." he said. You nodded then took a deep, shaky breath and picked up a magazine from the coffee table. You settled in your mind that maybe looking through the new season Versace bikinis would calm your lust.

Fred let out a long, erotic sigh, allowing a soft groan to escape his lips along the way. Your hand twitched, you were still oblivious to his intentions and crossed your legs for some friction. "Hey ____," Fred called out, and you hummed in response, not looking up from your magazine. You seemed to have read the same line five times now. "I think there's something in my eye, can you blow on it."

Your eyes went wide, Fred was vulgar. This was no surprise to you after dating him for almost two years, but saying something so shamelessly, no hesitation still made your heart stutter. Your imagination was running wild now, you pictured every single thing you wished to do to him at this moment, in those clothes. You quickly put your magazine down, more of slapped it on the table. "Sure, yeah." you said in a shaky voice, then stood up and walked over to him.

Fred's arms were wide on the couch, and one of them pulled your hand down when he was able to reach you. Your heart stopped for a moment, you felt herself land harshly on his thigh and the impact on your core caused a groan from the back of your throat to slip out.

Fred was rather enjoying himself, his head lazily leaning back on the pillow as he rubbed your thighs up and down, digging the pads of his fingers into your skin and causing an embarrassingly load of your juices to flow to your newly worn panties.

You readjusted yourself so the heat between your legs weren't in direct contact with his thigh. You scooted closer and had to bite back a moan when Fred jerked his leg up and applied pressure on your clit. You were trying your best not to show his effect on you, "Which eye." you hissed through gritted teeth, still pursuing his obvious lie.

Fred's shit eating grin only grew wider, and he took your hand and placed it right on his crotch. He was hard beneath his boxers, swelling bigger the second and you were fighting the urge to palm his cock. You shot him a warning look to which he playfully frowned, then gestured to his right eye. You leaned in closer, maybe he really did have something in his eye.

Fred's breathing was heavy, fanning over your lips as you tried to take a closer look. Your inspection was cut short when he gripped your waist, riding up your sweater to touch you directly. You gasped and straightened up at his rough hands kneading around your stomach. Chills were racing down your spine, you didn't want to give in just yet, just for teasing purposes, but Fred was making it unbelievable hard with his tousled hair and hooded eyes boring into yours.

Your panties felt soaked and you hoped he wouldn't notice, but when Fred gripped your shorts and pulled them down, his eyes fell on the wet fabric that was stuck to your entrance. You were painfully aware of how aroused you were, and your heated cheeks weren't helping with your embarrassment.

Fred licked his lips - his expression lust crazed - then he gripped one of your legs and guided it around his thighs, making you straddle him. He held both of your thighs and pulled you in closer, and when your knee touched his boner, it caused him to groan lowly and attempt to close the small gap between your two bodies.

You marveled at the idea of being any more closer to him, the aching on your lower abdomen making you grind yourself on his thigh, whimpering at the much needed friction. The scene looked erotic to you, Fred's finger had slithered down to your panties and moved them to the side to expose all of you, flushed and swollen. He gripped your waist again and started rocking your body on his thigh, "Ride my thigh baby, wan't you to get off on me," he said huskily, "Slow and good~"

You didn't know what else to do other than nod as much agreeable a nod could get. Fred started guiding your hips at a slow pace, not letting you fasten it once. He tutted when you tried for the second time, "Stop being impatient my love." he crooned, straightening himself up to finally meet your lips.

But you barely responded.

You were slack-jawed, your clit swollen painfully, your hips swiveling to get more contact. Pathetic really, is what it was. Fred said few words of filth and here you were, panting and rutting, thanking whoever up there to have the opportunity to ride Fred's obscenely attractive thigh. A thigh shouldn't be this attractive you thought, his skin warm and comfortable, generous muscles teasingly helping you get off. Emphasis on teasingly, he wouldn't let you have anything that easily. It was heaven and hell all at once.

Fred was sensually tracing the outline of your mouth with his tongue all the while, then dipped down and feathered kisses on your jaw that was just as slow as his pace. "Fuck, you're so filthy for this. Who knew this is all it took?" he groaned.

"You have such a responsive cunt babe, I can do whatever I want and you just lose it. Fuck-"

You were growing more frustrated the second and Fred was getting rather talkative, he ran his nose down your collarbones, sucking the supple skin into his mouth and leaving crimson marks. "Freddie please - just, mmmh!" you cried out a strangled moan, you had finally gotten what you wanted. You knew Fred could never resist the nickname, and in such a tone too.

He had started to rub your clit, his other arm wrapping around the small of your back protectively. He groaned against your neck, sending shockwaves of pleasure trailing from your marked neck all down to your feet. But Fred wasn't stupid, he had caught on rather soon and chuckled.

"Bad girl." he mocked, then gave you a light smack on your ass, causing you to yelp and jump. You landed harshly on Fred's thigh again and the moan you let out was almost painful. You clutched onto his hair as he gripped your waist and continued to rock you on his thigh.

You let him guide your movement, your juices easily allowing you to slide yourself back and forth on him, and whenever Fred would pull you forward he would apply pressure on your clit by gripping your waist tighter and pushing you down. He fastened his pace with every grind, and every huff of air you let out when your hips would come in contact. "Oh fucking hell - yes," Fred heaved, your knee must've been grazing against his cock just right because he was letting out soft groans and curse words every other second, his hefty length visible behind the fabric.

You couldn't resist, he had such an attractive dick even after seeing it so many times. You started rubbing him from the outside of his boxers, digging the pads of your fingertips into his shaft whenever you could. Fred's head rested between the slope of your breasts, and his hips bucked up at your touch, rutting desperately into your fisted hand, causing you to loudly moan out when his thigh pressed on your swollen bud.

He was barely jutting your hips at this point, barely able to focus on your pleasure from the amount he was getting. Cocky attitude gone as soon as you touched him, you made him melt under your palm. "I love you so fucking much - ohhh...holy shit, keep rubbing me like that." he moaned against your skin, the intense vibrations making you shudder.

You started to move by yourself, quickly and desperately, your juices glazing the skin and soaking up your panties that was making it harder for you both. But it felt too good to stop and remove it, the heat in your core was growing and you closed your eyes to focus on the man that was letting out hot breaths between the valley of your breasts. His hand started playing with your nipple, squeezing it between his forefinger and thumb as the other gripped your waist and rocked you faster.

Your movement was getting sloppy, legs trembling and jerking whenever pressure was applied to your clit. You were whining the name of your lover, your voice almost pornographic. "Cum my love - fuck yes, cum all over me. Make a mess of me." Fred's hand left your nipple and guided your hips faster, the other pulling down on your thighs as you threw your head back. Fred started circling your clit to speed up your fast approaching release, but it wasn't even needed.

With a final, high pitched squeal, your vision went black, stars dancing around your lids. Your body shuddered violently, and you came hard all over his thigh. "You look so beautiful I-" Fred barely managed to let out before you gripped down his boxers and let his erection swing out. You wrapped your hand around the head and watched in amusement as pre-cum leaked out when you squeezed.

"What? Gonna milk me dry baby?" Fred chuckled darkly, his free hand running through his tousled hair while the other gripped and kneaded the side of your waist.

"I was hoping to do more than that, but for now..." you licked a long stripe up the base of his neck to the back of his ear, and bit. All the while, your hand started working around his painfully hard cock. Fred was almost heaving now, unlike you who just recently came down from your mind blowing orgasm.

"I-...please, I wan't-" Fred gulped, and in the very rare moments he didn't know what to say. You started pumping his cock, the moment you squeezed him tighter he was coming.

"Fuck fuck fuck - ____!" Fred released all over your hand, his dick twitching beneath your fingers as he leaned his body on yours and let out strangled moans against your neck. You licked your fingers clean, then gently lifted Fred's chin. His eyes were slanted in a deep post-orgasmic daze, and you started to give him slow, wet kisses. "Look how good you taste." you whispered, swirling your tongue around his as he groaned into your mouth.

You were obsessed with how mesmerizing Fred looked. When he came, when he cried out whatever filthy thing came to mind, that blissful glow he had after orgasming. You wanted to repeat those moments over and over again, come with him yourself and touch yourself to his noises. And his taste, you could never get enough of it.

#fred weasley fluff #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #hp smut #fred weasley smut #harry potter fic #reader insert #fred weasley imagine #harry potter smut

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ttuesday · 4 years ago

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How would the VDL gang comfort/cuddle you if you had a bad day?

also have this fluffy foal 🐴

yay I love fluffy foal!!!! Since we all have bad days, I decided to do a little more than usual for this one so yeah this’ll probably be longer than usual :)

Arthur

-> The second Arthur sees you, he knows something went wrong but he waits until you’re away from the others to talk to you. In a low voice, Arthur asks if you want to go somewhere private before guiding you to his tent or to the outskirts of camp.

-> He doesn’t mind if you don’t tell him what’s bothering you or what made today so terrible. Without saying a word, Arthur wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a tight hug.

-> He slowly starts to stroke your hair and tell you that no matter what the problem is, you’ll figure it out.

-> Arthur reminds you of how strong you are and asks if you want to go do something with him tomorrow, whether that be robbing a stagecoach or drinking in a saloon or just going for a ride along the Heartlands. Whatever you want to do, Arthur will go along with it.

Dutch

-> Dutch asks to speak to you in his tent, pretending he needs your opinion on some upcoming robbery but when he closes his tent off to the others, he lets out a sigh and gives you a sympathetic smile.

-> “Want to talk about it?” he asks, sitting next to you on his bed. He understands if you stay quiet, not too sure of how to explain your bad day.

-> Dutch opens his mouth to say a quote from Evelyn Miller he thinks you might find interesting but he hesitates. He knows quotes won’t help right now and so instead he shuffles closer to you, putting his arm around your waist.

-> He’ll let you cuddle into him and he won’t move an inch until you’re feeling a little bit better, even if that takes all night.

Charles

-> Charles doesn’t really know what to do or say. But he believes that some times you don’t need words.

-> Whether you want to sit by the campfire or away from the centre of camp, Charles stays by your side. He knows you probably have some thinking to do so he stays quiet, a comfortable silence falling over ye.

-> Of course if you want to talk or rant, Charles will listen intently, taking in every word you say and every expression you make. And if there’s anything he can do to help, he instantly suggests it to you.

Bill

-> Bill isn't great with words. Everyone knows that. So don't expect him to give you this great motivational speech that will give you high hopes and make you feel like you a superhero.

-> Chances are Bill will just start rambling about something random like how he’s thinking of buying a new saddle for Brown Jack or how he found a piece of chocolate in his beard the other day.

-> His ramblings are a good distraction and Bill has no problem if you want to lean against him as he continues to talk. He’s very warm and cozy so it makes sense if you fall asleep on him.

Javier

-> Javier will try his absolute best to make you feel better. He spends the evening comforting you as best he can and if you still feel bad, he’ll suggest the two of you go on a job.

-> He knows of a homestead you can both rob, it’s easy pickings and he hopes it will help you focus on something and lift your spirits.

-> Who knows, maybe ye can spend the night there to have a break from everything. Javier will spend the night spooning you and whispering his favourite things about you into your ear... though he might ask to be the baby spoon at some point during the night.

Micah

-> Micah suggests that you have a drink with him in the hopes that’ll make your day a bit better. As you sit down at one of the tables at camp, Micah brings over a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.

-> He can be very blunt so don’t expect a lot of great comfort or immaculate advice but he will listen to everything you say. Even if he acts like he isn’t listening, believe me, he is.

-> Towards the end of the night when he’s feeling a little more confident than usual (thank u alcohol) he’ll offer you a comfortable seat on his lap. Really he just wants to cuddle in the hopes it’ll lift both of ye’re moods.

John

-> John can be kinda hopeless in situations like this. He’s very awkward but if you need a hug or someone to talk to or a cuddle, then he’s happy to help.

-> If you start to cry, there’s a possibility John will die of awkwardness because he doesn’t know what to do or how to react. His brain may go into shutdown mode.

-> but he will stay there with you for as long you want him there. And he’ll try his best to make you smile again, whether it be with a cuddle, kiss or his dry sense of humour.

Sean

-> Sean's angry. Not at you, he could never truly be mad at you, but Sean presumes your bad day is someone's fault. Before you can explain why you've had a bad day, Sean's loading his revolver and whistling Ennis over so he can go shoot whoever has upset you.

-> If you want him to go kill someone then off he'll go on his mission but if you need him by your side, he can do that too. Because this is Sean, he basically clings to you as he fusses over you.

-> This man will spend the entire night giving you kisses, cuddles, maybe something more *wink wink*. He’ll give you the best advice he can think of and whatever else you need in the moment.

Lenny

-> Lenny hates it when you've had a bad day. He never wants to see you upset or sad, it breaks his heart to see you like that.

-> He gives you a long hug, slightly swaying from side to side. He's also really eager to help you in anyway he can. Want to go on a job to take your mind off it? Let's go. Need someone to tell you you’re an amazing person? He's confident he'll do a great job at that.

-> Be warned though, Lenny can be an emotional fella. So if you start crying, he might start crying too just because you're crying.

Uncle

-> Everyone knows Uncle likes to joke around. When things get tough, he likes to make a joke and laugh about it.

-> So when he heard you had a bad day, he tried to lighten the mood with some jokes. He makes jokes about himself, your shitty day, anyone who passes by and Dutch's speeches.

-> If the jokes aren't working then Uncle tries to say something genuine but he can't help himself and gives it a comedic spin at the end. But he hopes you know he really meant the genuine part.

Trelawny

-> When Trelawny hears you're having a bad day, he doesn't think it's anything to worry about. He thinks he can cheer you up with some magic.

-> He puts on a small show for you, making birds magically appear and finding a bouquet of flowers behind your ear. But Trelawny knows that isn't enough.

-> He sits down next to you and asks if you want to talk. Trelawny is one of the best listeners in camp, he'll listen and try his best to comfort you in whatever way you want. He'll even ask if you want to pet one of his birds.

Hosea

-> No matter what your problem is or whether you want to talk about it or not, Hosea sits down with you. His first concern is to try and make you feel as relaxed and comfortable as possible.

-> He will bring you whatever you want, go wherever you feel most comfortable. Anything you need, he will try his best to provide.

-> If you need to have a good cry, Hosea hands you his handkerchief and tells you to let it all out. There’s no point in hiding your emotions now and he assures you that tomorrow will be a better day.

Tilly

-> Tilly’s great because she’ll let you vent about your bad day but she also knows when to stop you. She wants the best for you and won’t let you rant all day about pointless things.

-> If you start to spiral, she stops you and tells you to let it go. You’ve complained about your shitty day but it’s important not to dwell on it.

-> Before ending the conversation, Tilly gives you a firm but understanding hug and lets you know that she’s here for you if you have another bad day.

Sadie

-> Sadie can put up with a lot of life’s shit. But seeing you upset and feeling miserable? It makes her feel frustrated and pissed off.

-> She’s had some terrible days so she knows the best thing to do is get a blanket, a hot drink and bring you somewhere quiet. Sadie wraps the blanket around you and sits with you.

-> She brushes your hair with her fingers and she softly asks you how you are. It’s strange to hear Sadie talk so softly but in a way it shows you how much she cares and wants to help

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bruhstories · 4 years ago

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Dazed and Confused

Summary: You and Connie have been friends for ten years, crushing on each other like a bunch of idiots who can't confess their feelings for one another. Until you go on a trip with your friends. Pairing: Connie Springer x Fem!Reader Warnings & Content: 18+, language, oral sex (female & male receiving), unprotected sex, weed smoking, alcohol consumption, f l u f f Word Count: 4.2 k

A/N: I got so pissed at that last anon that I finished this oneshot quicker lol. @fiaficsxo here it is!

You loved parties. Not the loud music and thick smoke, not the booze and smell of vomit, but your friends. Every time they gathered at someone's place, your heart fluttered, filled with happiness and content and long-lasting memories.

Connie had the brilliant idea of spending a week in the mountains during your spring break, and you wasted an entire night searching for the perfect cottage to rent. Luckily everyone was down with his suggestion, the only problem was how you'd sleep. Historia obviously wanted to share a room with Ymir. Mikasa and Eren were an item now, so they'd have to sleep together. Armin wanted to try his luck with Annie, so no one objected to that. Jean declared that he wanted to bunk with Connie, like the two eligible bachelors they were, and that left you and Sasha to share a room together. You didn't mind it, in all honesty you loved Sasha with all your heart — but you secretly hoped someone would pick up on your feelings for Connie and let you sleep with him. You weren't that lucky.

You packed your bag the night before the trip, obsessively ticking everything on your list and double checking every item and pocket. It was ready, with one item missing — the white lace babydoll smoothed on your dorm bed. You chewed the pen cap, debating whether to bring it with you or not. You bought it for special occasions, but you haven't had a dick appointment in a long time, and you doubted you'd have one this week. With a shrug, you decided to bring it — you never know what might happen. Nighttime passed quickly and you soon found yourself all dolled up, albeit still sleepy from all the tossing and turning, excited to make more memories with your friends.

The train station was packed with people, especially students who went back to their hometowns for the break, and you were relieved to find Armin and Mikasa there. You three were always punctual, followed by Jean and Annie. Eren, Sasha and Connie were always late, which is why you told them the train leaves at 7 am instead of 7:30. It was a dirty strategy, but no one wanted to miss such a fun opportunity because of those lazy fuckers. And lo and behold, they decided to appear at 7:15.

"That was some good thinking." Jean shook his head, hand sympathetically placed on your shoulder.

"I'm only glad you guys rolled with it." You laughed without noticing the way Connie stared at you, and even he didn't understand exactly what he felt. Was he grumpy because he hated morning, or was it Jean's hand on you that irked him?

"It's not polite to stare." Sasha pulled Connie out of his thoughts.

"I wasn't staring, I was looking." Connie rolled his eyes, gripping the handle of his suitcase a bit too tightly.

"I just don't get it why you don't tell her you like her." The girl popped a bubblegum baloon, proceeding to chew it very loudly.

"Are you kidding me? She obviously likes Jean. Look how she's laughing!"

Sasha placed an arm on his shoulder, a sheepish smile on her face. "You, my friend, are a dumbass."

"Takes one to know one."

To say that your friends were loud during the train ride was an understatement. They didn't really care about the nasty glares other passengers shot at them, opting to talk, sing, eat and practically embarrass themselves. But two hours later you arrived, and the fresh, crisp air of the mountains was a blessing. You didn't regret coming, all of you deserved a break after all the exams, studying and all-nighters you guys pulled.

"We could visit the military museum!" Armin suggested, but Connie scrunched his nose.

"We came here to get high, drink and spend time together, why the fuck would we visit some old ass building?"

"I'd like to go to the museum." You awkwardly smiled, earning a 'see?' from the blond. Mikasa, Eren and Annie backed you up, and since it was a democracy, you ended up leaving your bags at the cottage and touring the small town to find the military museum. The building wasn't massive, and inside it was dark, with crimson carpets and dim lights. It was actually quite a romantic atmosphere, had it not been for the weapons and armours displayed in glass cases. Connie watched you intently, taking in every movement, every flinch, every hair tucking, every scrunch of your cute nose. You absorbed the information, hungry for knowledge. This was something you and Connie didn't share — yes, you were down to drinking and smoking, but you were also eager to learn and study, while he always preached how 'you can always retake an exam but you can't relive a party.' He wasn't stupid by any means, but unlike you, Jean, Armin and Mikasa — who alwaysstudied and never skipped lectures — Connie would wing it and somehow end up getting better grades. His strategy didn't always work, and sometimes, when you were in college, he'd ask you to tutor him. Now you were second year undergraduates, and while you were studying different subjects, you still made time for each other.

"That's a nice, uhh..." Connie squinted, "...shotgun."

"It's a musket." You chuckled, your fingers accidentally brushing his as you turned around to face him.

"Shotgun, musket, same thing."

"Actually, muskets are muzzle-loaded and fire a single bullet, but shotguns pack multiple pellets in one shell." You explained. "I'm sorry, you're probably not interested in my ramblings."

"No, no, it's... interesting. I just wasn't expecting you to know so much about guns." He rubbed his nape and smiled at you.

"Well, I do study history, in case you forgot."

"How could I forget that?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" You awkwardly elbowed Connie. Why was it so hard for you to just tell him your feelings? Oh, right, because you've been friends for ten years and if he didn't like you back, it would only ruin a great friendship.

"It means you brag about it so much it's kind of hard to forget." He told you, quickly realising just how insulting that sounded.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know that's how you felt..." You sighed, eyes darting back to the weapons.

"No, I didn't- forget it." Connie shook his head. Well played.

Back at the cottage, with enough food and booze to last the group a month, you decided to stay in your room for the rest of the day. It wasn't the first time you had embarrassing moments with Connie, but this particular one made you anxious to be around him. Did he really dislike you that much, or was it just friendly banter? If you were to ask him, you could find out, but every scenario in your head had a bad outcome, so avoiding him for now was the smartest choice. Sasha pleaded with you to spend the evening in the living room with everyone else, but you brushed her off, telling her you weren't feeling quite well.

"Text me if you need anything." She told you before leaving. It was immature to act this way, you knew that all too well, but it wasn't like Connie cared, right? You eventually decided to go downstairs after finishing a long episode of your favourite tv show, your stomach begging for nourishment. As silently as possible, you tiptoed behind the couch. The hallway was dim, the sun had already set, and the only lights were the ones from the wide TV screen in the living room where your friends were watching some corny horror movie. You could cut the suspense and tension with a knife, and when you dropped a teaspoon, everyone jumped.

"Sorry, sorry! It's just me!"

"Jesus Christ, Y/N, you almost gave me a heart attack." Jean got up from the floor and walked behind the couch. "How are you feeling? Sasha said you're ill."

"I'm fine, don't worry." You picked the spoon up and threw it in the sink. "It's just a headache, I'll sleep it off."

"Good, we need you here." The man wrapped an arm around you. "You're missing how Connie's crapping his pants at this shitty movie."

From the outside it would seem like you and Jean were a couple, but the truth was far from it. You two grew up together, his family was friends with your family, and what you had was nothing more than a brother-sister relationship. Jean's little remark earned a disgruntled look from Connie, you quickly picked up on that, and so you playfully jabbed him in the stomach.

"Connie's crapping his pants? You're the one who almost had a heart attack." You grinned.

"Oi, that was only because you dropped your stupid spoon. I was invested in the movie."

"Mhm, sure you were."

"Hey, you sure you don't want to join us?" Mikasa waved at you from the living room. You pondered over her question. Perhaps it wouldn't be too awkward to sit with them.

"Alright, sure, why not?"

"Come, sit next to me." Sasha shuffled to the side, but what she really meant by that was 'sit next to Connie', because she shuffled to the otherside.

The following two nights were surprisingly quiet, all you did was play board games, watch movies and walk around the town taking pictures. The tension between Connie and you seemed to dissipate, and you both forgot the unpleasant interaction you had on the first day. But on the fourth night, that's when shit hit the fan. Annie and Armin left for a date, and Eren and Mikasa wanted to spend the night alone in their room, leaving you, Sasha, Jean and Connie unsupervised, bored and tipsy. There was absolutely nothing good to watch on the TV, and you almost wanted to scream when your friends wanted to play truth or dare. It was one of those games you despised, because the whole point of it was to put the players in uncomfortable situations. And you didn't like being uncomfortable, unlike your friends.

"Jean, truth or dare?" Sasha beamed.

"Dare, duh."

"Alright, I dare you to switch roommates for the rest of the week." She sipped her blackberry cider.

"Okay? So, I'll stay with Y/N, then."

Good lord, if looks could kill, Connie's would annihilate Jean and Sasha off the face of the Earth.

"No, no, you'll stay with me. Y/N will stay with Connie."

"Eh? Why does your dare involve us?" You asked, confused and curious of your friend's proposal.

"Because." She shrugged. "Don't pussy out."

"I'm not pussying out. A dare's a dare." Jean scoffed. "I'm gonna go take my shit in your room and shower."

"Y-yeah, I'll go bring mine, too." You got up, using this time to hyperventilate alone. What the fuck was Sasha even thinking? Was this some stupid joke? But your friends wouldn't harm you, so why would she suggest such a stupid thing?

You took a quick shower before curling up in the bed, blankets covering you from neck to toe. Connie wasn't back yet, and you didn't want to go after him, that would just be odd. You were hoping you'd fall asleep before he returned, to avoid any unnecessary fuss, but just as you closed your eyes, the door opened. Maybe you could pretend you were asleep? He struggled to find his pyjamas in the dark, stumbling over furniture and knocking things down, and you turned the bedside lamp on to ease his search.

"Did I wake you up?" Connie bit his lower lip, and through the dim light you watched the way his grey eyes glistened, the way his short brown hair was ruffled, and how the sage green t-shirt hugged his toned abdomen.

"No, no, 's alright. I wasn't sleeping. I can't exactly fall asleep." You clutched the blanket at your chest as you shook the intrusive thoughts away. Connie was your friend, damn it, there was no room for romance between you.

"I can sleep on the floor if you want."

"Oh, God, no, it's... stiff."

"Um, yeah, it kinda is. Alright then, I'll jump in the shower real quick before going to bed." He stumbled into the bathroom and you really wanted to fall asleep now.

But you couldn't. Every time you closed your eyes, Connie's face popped in your head. So much for resting. You tossed and turned on the mattress, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in, but nothing helped. It didn't take long for him to finish his shower, and you mentally chastised yourself for not falling asleep when you felt him shuffle under the same blanket that was covering you. For a minute, you didn't utter a word, you barely breathed, afraid to disturb the silence in the room.

"Are you asleep?"

"Nope." You heard the click of Connie's phone and turned around. You couldn't see him, but you could hear him.

"Do you wanna talk about something? Until we fall asleep, I mean." You suggested.

"Hmm, sure." He turned on his side and you felt his breath fanning over your cheeks. You were too close to him. "Actually, d'you wanna smoke?"

"Aren't the others gonna be mad if we smoke without them?"

"They don't have to know. Besides, you and I never smoked together." Connie was already up, rummaging through his backpack with the flashlight of his phone. "And then we can talk as much as you want."

"Alright, I'm down."

You laid on the floor, your head next to Connie's as you looked at the ceiling, smoke leaving your lips. He took the joint from you, fingers touching yours and you blushed, the haze of the weed melting your worries away.

"Do you want me to skip the song?" Connie asked, and for a moment you forgot there was a song playing.

"No, I like it." You confessed. "I didn't know you liked Led Zeppelin."

"There's lots of things you don't know about me, Y/N." He passed you the joint.

"Okay, tell me something else I don't know."

"I like it when you randomly say historical or scientific facts."

"Didn't you say I brag too much about it?" You took one final drag before you stubbed the joint out in a makeshift ashtray filled with a bit of water. By this point you were high as a kite, every trace of rationality gone.

"That doesn't mean I don't like it." Connie smiled and you could feel it in his voice. "Now you tell me something I don't know about you."

"I can't sleep with open doors. It freaks me out." You sat up, a breeze blowing through the window sending shivers down your spine. "It's a bit cold, do you mind if I close the window?"

"Go ahead."

You got up and picked the ashtray up but before you could close the window, you stumbled over a chest of drawers, the ashes mixed with water spilling over your t-shirt.

"You okay?" He quickly crawled to you, concern written all over his face.

"Yeah, I'm just clumsy." You laughed it off and waved your free hand. "I'll go get changed, I should have a spare shirt."

But you didn't have a spare shirt. All you had was that stupid white babydoll, and anxiety seeped through your veins. You couldn't exactly show up in that in front of your crush. And you didn't want to ask him for a shirt either. Fuck it, what else could you do?

You peeked out the bathroom door and saw Connie back in bed, lazily scrolling through his phone. God, this was embarrassing.

"You look like you've seen a ghost." He laughed, but when your facial expression didn't change, he frowned. "Y/N?"

"Um, so, I didn't have a spare shirt and- Jesus, this is awkward." You opened the door and his eyes widened. "Is it alright if I sleep in this?"

"Oh, I get it now." Connie scoffed.

"Get what?"

"You were hoping you'd share a room with Jean, right?" He sounded almost disgusted.

"Excuse you? Where did you even get that idea?" You slammed the bathroom door shut, arms folded across your chest.

"I'm not stupid, Y/N. I've seen the way you two act. Do yourselves a favour and just fuck already."

You were speechless. Completely reactionless. The weed amplified your anger, but his words brought tears to your eyes.

"You... you fucking asshole! You think I brought this for Jean? I brought it for you!"

"Eh? M-me?" Connie was confused, and you were pissed.

"Yes, you. Jean's like a brother to me, oh my God! Ew!"

"Wait, so you and Jean are not in love with each other?"

"In love?? Connie, how high are you exactly?" You walked closer to the bed, arms still crossed.

"But- Fuck, I am stupid." He shook his head, the memories of you flirting with him flashing before his eyes. "I fucked up, didn't I?"

"A bit..." Your muscles relaxed and you sat on the mattress. "Really, Connie, I... I like you. A lot. But you're always giving me mixed signals."

"That's because I always thought you liked Jean!" He threw his hands in the air in exasperation.

"No, you're the only one."

"Huh, guess I've really been dazed and confused."

Calloused fingertips ran across your hips leaving goosebumps in their trail. Your hands roamed his back and the way Connie kissed you was better than any high you've ever experienced. He was touch-starved, and you were just as needy. His knee found its place between your thighs and you moaned when it barely brushed your cunt.

"I've been dreaming for this moment for as long as I can remember." Connie breathed into your neck, the hot breath tickling your skin.

"Me too, you blind bat." You laughed and he turned you over, hovering over you.

"'M sorry I didn't notice quicker." He kissed you again. One hand travelled lower, pushing your underwear to the side before he pushed two fingers between your folds. "Fuck, you're so wet."

"Well, at least now I don't have to finger myself thinking about you." You whimpered with a grin.

"Oh?" Connie arched a brow. "Is that what you've been doing?" He curled up his fingers and you threw your head back with a moan. "I thought you were a prude."

"T-there's lots of things you d-don't know about m-me!" You replied back between oh’sand ah’s, imitating his words from an hour ago. That only earned a sneer from Connie, his head dipping between your thighs. "Wait, what are you do- ooh fuck!"

His tongue lapped at your cunt, fingers pumping in and out of you, and you completely sunk into the mattress, moaning his name over and over again. You gripped the sheets, flexing the muscles in your legs as you squirmed and thrashed. Connie stopped and you almost crushed his skull with your thighs at the empty feeling. He pulled your underwear down and shoved the cotton panties in your mouth.

"Don't wake everyone up, Y/N. You don't want them knowing what a little slut you are, do you?"

You shook your head and Connie went back to circling your clit with his tongue, adrenaline rushing through your entire body with each lick, each suck. Tears of pleasure pooled at your eyes, nose and cheeks red from the thrill of your incoming orgasm. The way he was sloppily eating your pussy and moaning while doing it drove you insane, and within seconds you came undone, thighs trembling with delight. In fact, you were so sore you had to push his head back, begging him to stop so you could return the favour.

"You taste so sweet." Connie licked his lips. You don't know what possessed you to pull him into a kiss after you removed the makeshift gag, but he was right, you were sweet.

"Can I...?" Your eyes drifted down to his twitching cock, your voice soft and quiet.

"You wanna suck it?"

"Yes."

"Later. Right now, I wanna fuck you."

Connie gave you no time to protest, his elbow pushed one of your things to the side, the blushing tip of his cock grazing over your overstimulated clit, up and down your slit. Inch by inch it disappeared into your cunt and he let out a satisfied sigh. You bucked your hips, manicured nails digging into his shoulders with each thrust.

"Shit, you're so fucking tight!" Connie growled, head lowering to kiss you. You could still taste yourself on his lips and that only made you clench your spongy walls around his cock. That seemed to please him, because he rocked his hips harder and faster. "You like it?"

"Oh, God, yes!" You gasped, beads of sweat forming on your forehead as you clawed his back.

"Fuck, I want you to ride me." He gripped your hips tighter and turned you over. You tried your best to get in the new position without letting his cock slip out of you, and when you finally adjusted yourself, it was a whole new challenge. Gravity pulled you down, and his tip brushed your cervix, your eyes squinting at the slight pain. "If it hurts, stop-"

"No!" You cried out, your hands resting on his chest. You bounced up and down, the uncomfortable feeling slowly replaced with pleasure. Connie's hands traced your thighs as you rode him, another wave of heat flushing through your core. His palm met your cunt, thumb circling over your clit. "I can't c-come again!"

"Yes, you can. And you will cream on my cock."

The disgust words worked like magic and you flexed your thighs, bouncing faster, head thrown back, hair cascading down your back. "You're so beautiful, Y/N."

"Connie, I-" The words stopped in your throat, the pressure too much for you to handle.

"You what?"

"I'm- oh, God!"

"Atta girl!" He praised you when he felt your silken walls relaxing and your thighs quaking. The second orgasm was so intense you let yourself fall over his chest, dizzy and tired. You thought he'd give you a break, but Connie wrapped an arm around your back, holding you in place before giving your oversensitive cunt a few more thrusts. "Now you can return the favour."

You mustered up some strength to get up and kneel in front of the bed, between his legs.

"Please don't come in my mouth." You asked him before wrapping your pretty lips around his cock.

"Gotchaah-" Connie choked on his words when he felt himself in your hot mouth. You bobbed your head up and down, cheeks hollowed and eyes on him. You didn't break eye contact when you pulled away and spat on the tip, hand pumping his cock to smear the spit. "Hot." He mumbled before you went back to sucking. You felt the throbbing, tightening your lips around him and picking up the pace. "Y/N-"

It all happened in a flash — Connie yanked your hair and pulled your head back, thick ropes of milky white cum shooting all over your face and neck.

"Eew!" You scrunched your nose, hand under your chin to stop it from dripping down the floor.

"What do you mean ew? That's, like, a billion kids!"

"Actually, a fertile man produces around-"

"Don't start. Do not." He pressed his index finger over your lips. "Let's get you cleaned up."

You woke up sore, especially between your thighs, but damn, was it worth it. Connie wrapped an arm around your waist, mumbling something about how pretty you are, but you assumed he was still sleeping — or still high. The sun shone through the blinds and you squinted, annoyed by the brightness, and so you turned around, watching the way your crush snored peacefully.

"Cute." You smiled and planted a kiss on his forehead, waking him up. "Oh, I'm sorry!"

"Why?" Connie rubbed his eyes. "Waking up to you is a blessing."

You couldn't hide the tinting of your cheeks and the grin on your lips. "I didn't think you were the romantic type."

"There's lots of things-"

"I don't know about you. But I'd like to know those things. If you let me, of course." You bit your lower lip, eyes filled with hope.

"Can I be your boyfriend?" He sat up, his eyes serious.

"I thought you'd never ask."

Okay, so maybe Sasha knew a thing or two when she dared Jean to switch roommates.

You walked into the kitchen after getting ready for the day, with Connie following behind you. Everyone was eating their breakfast, and Jean instantly dashed to you.

"Connie, bro, take me back. Sasha's leaving crumbs all over the bed! I can't sleep like that!"

"I can't, man, I wanna spend the rest of the week with my girlfriend." He sneered and you elbowed him.

"I forgot to mention Jean's overprotecti-"

"Your what? Hands off my sister from another mister, you creep!"

"Creep? You're the one who was sexting someone's sister last night." Sasha chimed in, mouth full of cereal.

"Thanks, Sash." Jean rolled his eyes. "For real, how did this happen?"

"You see, mate, when a man and a woman love each other-"

"Nope. I will not hear this."

#connie springer #connie springer x reader #connie x reader #aot #aot x reader #aot smut #aot x you #aot x y/n #connie springer x you #connie springer x y/n #snk #snk x reader #snk smut #snk x you #snk x y/n #connie x you #connie x y/n

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lottiebagleywritesobx · 3 years ago

Text

Love Language

At the time they'd made it the language had felt like no one would ever be able to understand it.

They were only 9 and JJ had been granted permission to stay at her house, her parents used to be around a lot, although they weren't anymore, and they'd always welcomed her blonde best friend leading to his near constant presence at their home.

It was late for two kids, maybe 10 pm, and they'd been wrapped in blankets in her box sized room that felt so much bigger when they were young.

They always got each other in a way no one else understood for reasons way more complex than a secret language they would use to write each other messages, but at 9, all they needed to know was that the language was another thing that tied them together.

It was simple: to spell a word you combine the first letters of the other words.

So to write Hello you would write Hungry Elephants Love Lollipops Okay

It had stuck a lot at first, they used it everyday and it drove Pope and John B insane, but as they got older it died out.

It was used a few times at 12 when they had an annoying teacher who made students read notes out if they were caught passing them, to everyone else it sounded like gibberish.

It was used once at 15, the world help spelled out when an older Kook boy wouldn't leave her alone and she knew he was reading her phone screen over her shoulder, not wanting to trigger him.

Now, at 17, she had laughed out loud when she'd unfolded the note tucked into her locker.

In JJ's scrawl that only she could read with ease.

Ukraine

Rollercoaster

Penguin Ranch Eyelash Tractor Tangerine Yoghurt

You are pretty. She blushed a little, looking around for any sign of the familiar blonde boy but he was nowhere to be seen, she tucked the note into her bag, hating the way he made her heart race, before shoving the books she didn't need over the weekend into her locker and walking down the corridor and out of the front doors.

When she arrived at the twinkie her friends were already there "Took your time," John B smirks from his open window, occupying the front seat

"She was probably busy flirting with Mack," Sarah teases from the passenger side

"For the last time Sarah, he just needed tutoring in bio,"

"You are shit at bio," Sarah smirks even wider

"Better than you sweetheart," The girl grins, climbing into the back and diving out of Sarah's reach as she moves to try and flick her. Both girls laughing loudly

"I'll get the door then," Pope chides

"Thanks P, i can't get too close or Sarah will attack me," She grins, Pope rolls his eyes but sends her a grin as he leans forwards to pull the door to the twinkie closed.

She moves through the seats to her usual space, she always sat next to JJ, no matter what. They could be drinking at the chateau, relaxing at the beach, adventuring on the boat. No matter what they were next to each other. It wasn't uncommon when one of them was feeling tired, or clingy, or touch starved for her to end up in his lap, his arms wrapped around her stomach and his chin on her shoulder.

She leans up pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, it wasn't uncommon in their friendship, often used as a greeting, a thanks or even just out of the blue, and so the other's don't think anything of it even though JJ feels himself melting into a puddle. What is a little different though is the way she grabs his hand giving it a tight squeeze before pulling her own away and settling down in her seat as John B starts up the van. He knows what it is. It's a silent thanks for the note, not wanting to say anything in front of their friends but it was a sign she got it and she was grateful for it.

He wraps his arm around her shoulder, his touch gentle but Pope gives him a knowing look, the touch is supposed to claim her. She either doesn't notice or doesn't seem to mind though, instead leaning into his now open side as she chats happily with Kie.

It's monday morning and JJ is in first period history. He fucking hates history, yet, it had become his favourite subject simply because it was the only one all 6 pogues shared. He opens his school bag with sigh, placing the textbook on his desk and starting to fish around the bottom of the bag for a loose pen.

Pope turns around from the seat in front of him, placing a pen on his desk with a knowing smile. JJ drops his bag to the floor, opening the text book only for a note to fall out.

Her neat writing fills the page and the smile on his face is immediate.

Umbrella

Rocket

Happy Ant Neck Drop Surf Olive Mars Egg

JJ tries to ignore the feeling of a red hot blush creeping up his neck as he turns to look at the next desk along, she's already looking at him with a smirk shooting him a week before turning to face the front, god if JJ can't feel himself falling.

It continues for weeks.

Tucked into the wind screen wiper of her old shitty truck.

Taped to the sandwiches she would bring him to lunch.

On her pillow when she went to bed one night.

Stuffed into the pocket of the hoodie she borrowed.

Her school bag.

The bathroom mirror at the chateau.

They both started to home a large collection of notes. Her's placed neatly in a drawer in her bedroom. His tucked in a box under the floor board that lifts up in the room he claims as his at the chateau.

"What you writing?" John B questions as he steps onto the porch

"Just a note for y/n,"

"You guys have been passing a lot of secret notes recently," John B comments, JJ shrugs placing the pen down "It's sweet,"

"What d'ya mean by that?" JJ questions, John raises his eyebrows giving JJ a knowing look before having a realisation.

"You still haven't told her you're head over heels in love with her?"

"No," JJ admits, he was way past his days of fighting back when his friends accused him of being in love with her. "I don't know how to. You know me, I never say things right and I just- I really don't want to fuck this up. Only got one shot at it,"

"So write it," John B shrugs like it's obvious

"I can't,"

"You can,"

"What if she doesn't feel the same?"

"JJ, you're the most annoying person I know and she puts up with you all the time and has done since you were 2 . She feels the same,"

She's only wearing a bikini and a tshirt that belongs to JJ when she exits her house on Saturday morning. Her plans to meet at the Chateau go surfing with Kie already made, she grabs her board and at first she doesn't even notice it, attached to the cool box full of water and fruit she'd loaded up the night before is a note.

Ice

Art Magic

Igloo Note

London Orange Venus Elephant

Wine Ill Tiger Hungry

Yam One Under

It takes less than a minute for her to decipher the note, abandoning her surf board and the cooler in favour of sprinting to the Cheateau.

JJ is seemingly waiting for her when she arrives, he's pacing in front of the house, going still the second he sees her.

"Are you kidding?" She questions, he's stares, eyes wide not quite able to process why she looks so hopeful. "Because JJ, if this is some fucked up joke I will literally never speak to you again,"

"It's not a joke," He assures

"It's not?" She questions, it's het turn to still, having expected to arrive for him to laugh and ruffle her hair like he was her brother.

"No. I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you since we were 12 and you stole my cap and started wearing it everyday,"

"We were 14 and you snuck into my room because my parents were fighting and you read harry potter to me cause you knew my parents used to," She states

He nods, now it was all out there in the open neither of them quite knew what to do.

"For fucks sake kiss already!" Pope shouts, they turn seeing all the pogues watching them from the porch.

JJ looks at her, an unspoken question in his eyes. "Just promise me if this all goes tits up we will be friends, cause I can't loose you maybank,"

He holds his pinky out, smiling as she loops her with his and squeezes slightly. He pulls her into his chest with their pinkies. Lips crashing onto hers, spare holding her closer to him by the small of her back. Her empty hand moving to play with the blonde curls she's wanted to run her fingers through a thousand times. Their pinkies stay linked by their side, his thumb stroking at her hands lightly.

Yeah, she'd be keeping the note he left in there little love language.

#jj #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj x reader #jj maybank x y/n #obx fic #obx #outer banks

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wizkiddx · 4 years ago

Note

Blurb req- Tom and the reader on a private jet hungover? just pure fluff?

fluffy requests are well and truly open ( bcos I adored writing this ahah) and let me know what u think , I am deff not a writer so any feedback or tips would be v appreciated :))

summary: tomhollandxactress!reader - a wrap party followed by an early morning flight and a grumpy Harry, what could possibly go wrong?

warning: mentions of alcohol and sickness

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

The remorse. The regret. It only made the pounding in your head even worse. Why those two 1.5 litre bottle of Bacardi had been brought out was beyond you. Why the you six of you had then decided to empty said bottle was even more of a mystery. It wasn’t like any of you had needed it, you’d all been more than ‘merry’ prior to the cheap rum and coke.

Hence the state of you, Tom and Harry as well as your manager Davey and Tom’s team of Rachel and Andrew. All having made very little effort with your appearance - joggers and hoodies all round, with you and Rachel also sporting sunglasses because you were simply smarter than the boys. Thankfully, this wasn’t a big trip that fans knew about, this was you and Tom moving location under cover - the studios didnt want anybody to know that either of you made a feature in this film, so everything was under the cover of darkness. Which to be honest you were not complaining about. However, you were complaining about the fact the flight had been scheduled to leave at 7 am the night after your wrap party though.

The two of you had just wrapped your most recent and most ambitious movie to date - hence the massive celebrations last night for just surviving and getting it done. It had been the most intense 3 months of your life, there had been times you’d cry for hours on end, times you just wanted to quit fully knowing you’d never be hired again for leaving a multimillion dollar company in the lurch.But you all, somehow, had survived. So celebrations were in order of course but perhaps not as far as you all managed last night?

Your whole convey appeared to have travelled to the airfield in absolute silence, no one particularly fancied hearing anyone else’s voice- which to be honest seemed quite fair. You’d ridden in a car with Tom and Harry, with you resting your head on Tom’s broad shoulder - which had obviously made Harry gag, rolling his eyes. Bless Harry, really he was the only reason you and Tom had got together, after getting sick of the mutual pining he’d been forced to live with during the previous 2 projects you’d worked on together. But now, having had to put up with the two of you being so ridiculously loved up for the past 3 months - understandably a bit of distance from you and his brother was overdue.

One of the flight attendants busied themselves loading your luggage, whilst the pilot asked you and Tom for a photo. Of course, you weren’t going to say no however you did have to cringe at how rough you both looked. His teenage daughter certainly would be less excited to see that her Dad hadn’t met Tom Holland and Y/n Y/l/n. Instead he’d met the zombified, undead and rougher frauds. Still you smiled as much as you could, wincing when you removed the glasses and the early morning sun pierced your restricted pupils. God it wasn’t your day.

The guy didn’t seem to mind though, excitedly hurrying off onto the plane to settle in the rest of you - leaving just you and Tom outside on the tarmac.

“Poor guy, we look like shit.” You murmured while taking a step closer to lean slightly into his side.

“Speak for yourself love.’Tom snickered into the top of your head, after pulling you completely into his chest. This wasn’t normally allowed, your relationship still wasn’t public and both of you intended on keeping it private for as long as possible. But you were in an otherwise empty field in the middle of nowhere (somewhere in Georgia) before 8 am. It was actually quite nice to feel your boyfriends arms round you in the outside world, especially when you felt this shit. After a few moments you pulled away, arching back at Tom’s pouty face as you motioned it was time to get on the plane.

“’S too late you know.” Your brows furrowed at his half formed sentence, facial expression only demanding him to explain more. “They all have already taken the good seats… Harry basically sprinted on so he can hog the bed thing.” In response it was your turn to pout, groaning as you fell back into his chest again. Yes, this was a complete first world issue, a private jet paid completely by your bosses was not something a lot would moan about. Truly you were grateful for everything you had in life, but with the worst hangover of your life when the opportunity of lying down for 6 hours instead of being stuck in a chair had manifested itself… well of course you felt robbed by your almost brother Harry.

Chuckling at your reaction, he gave you an extra squeeze before leading the both of you up the stairs to the cabin. Sure enough Harry had completely and totally claimed the longer couch at the far end of the plane, lying on his stomach with his face hidden in the crook of his elbow. Rolling your eyes at the predictable situation, you didn’t miss Davey laughing at your sorry state - nmaking you throw daggers at him in your eyes.

Davey was your second father, the relationship between the two of you far transcended any professional working one. Which is why the two of you acting like this was very much a norm and not rude at all. He had also got the next best seat in the corner with the most leg room which he clearly loved to show off.

Unsurprisingly then you and Tom ended up squashed into the corner with your legs crumpled up together in the small space floor space. The brunette opposite you didn’t seem to mind so much but that was because he had an adaptational advantage. He could sleep anywhere and everywhere , whenever he wanted. On set if he was tired? Just take a ten minute power nap on the floor. Bored of a long car journey? Just conk out against the window. It absolutely infuriated you, as no matter how hard and how exhausted you were - it was rare you could get any further than a light doze. Even before the two go you got together, having a best mate that could skip all the boring bits and was immune to jet lag… you can see how that makes you want to punch him square in the face.

After a short safety talk from the pilot and flight attendant, the plane whirred into life and you were up in the air. Although in your current state, it would be reasonable to assume the beauty of flying had somewhat rubbed off - you were certain it never would. No matter how many flights you took across country ,and in fact continents, for work; you’d never get sick of watching the view below you. It was perfect and breathtaking and took your mind off the pounding in the back of your head for the first 20 minutes.

Until the need for sleep took over as either you need to be unconcious or you were going to vomit - which you really didn’t want to do at 40,000 feet in a tin box. Trying to rearrange your limbs to get comfier you accidentally knocked Tom’s leg rather forcefully, causing him to jump half out his seat, heavy eyes blinking quickly as he tried to get his baring as to what was attacking him - quickly answered by your guilty look.

“You okay love?” His voice was slurred, sounding almost sleep drunk - but perhaps was just actually still a little drunk. You’d only headed to bead last night at 4 am and had to be up at 6 - which isnt very long for your poor kidneys to try and process the stupid amount of alcohol you’d both happily been chugging the night before.

“Feel shitty and cant sleep.” You weren’t in the mood to white lie - honestly some sympathy from your beautiful boyfriend seemed like a dream at the moment. Tom’s idea was better though.

“C’mere then.” His arms outstretched, you immediately jumped into his lap - the two of you shifting about to get comfortable till you were sat side on to him, your bum and back leaning against the arm rest of the chair with your legs going over his thighs and pressing against the wall of the plane. Pulling you closer to his chest, Tom took a deep breath as he pressed his chin against the crown of your head; your face now nested into his chest.

Nothing needed to be said as the two of you melted into each others bodies, the slow and deepening breathing enough to prove to each other you were both incredibly contented in that moment. More than that you felt safe- you’d admitted to Tom some weeks ago that you had never ever slept better than when he was beside you. Yeh it was cringey but sometimes that’s allowed right?

… well not to Harry. Because as the plane was about to begin it’s descent, the pilot had tasked Harry (who had slept off the worst of the hangover and had spent the last 30 minutes of the flight scoffing at how adorable the two of you looked fast asleep together) - even after Rach had scalded him and had taken a photo of the two of you on her phone.

Causing Harry to ,ever subtly, wake the two of you up by throwing his half empty water bottle over your heads.

Safe to say, Harry very nearly didn’t leave that jet alive.

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x actress!reader #harry holland

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colossal-fallout · 4 years ago

Note

Can u write some Paladin Danse smut pls? Female reader maybe mention the first time they had met?? Ty

Squad Gladius

Warnings: 18+ smut, angst and description of injury.

"Where's that stimpak?!" Your voice screeches as gunshots fire all around you. The loud small explosions is enough to deafen you, but your focus was all on Paladin Danse, injured at your knees.

"I'm trying!" Haylen cries as she fires down a hallway - her targets out of your vision.

"Ah-ha!" A super mutant taunts, strutting towards you with his shitty pipe pistol that looked like he'd clumsily made it in 8th grade workshop class. "Tin Man, go boom."

Your teeth bare into a snarl; your desire to save Danse has you panicked and desperate, but your survival instincts transmute it into pure rage.

The slight gash and trail of blood on your forehead isn't even felt as you grab the only weapon close to you - a shotgun.

Looks like you have to do everything yourself...

Your body leaves Danse for a moment as you sprint towards the reloading Green-skin. He'd been smarter than your average mutant, having aimed his shots at Danse's fusion core, exploding it before he could safely get out of range.

And the only thing more infuriating than a super mutant, was a super mutant who had a bit of brain inside his green dome.

Almost in slow motion, with one arm you cock the shotgun and press the barrel right into the monsters cheek, pulling the trigger before it could even react.

You turn on your heel and run to aid Haylen, not fazed about the FEV victims grey matter scattering your clothes. It was now the norm in post-apocalyptic America.

You shove her aside harshly, removing her from the line of fire.

"Go help Danse." Is all that leaves your lips as you pluck her laser pistol from her hands.

Haylen obeys as you take care of the two brutes down the hallway, who were taking cover in adjoining doorways.

"Where - where's, y/n?" Danse croaks as Haylen begins to pull out her medkit.

"Shh..." She soothed, tears pooling in her eyes. "She's okay. Just tying up some loose ends."

She pushed the needle into his neck, it was faster to work that way, before pushing down the lever. It hisses as the chemicals stored inside successfully enter his blood stream.

"I need, to tell her..." He was out of it. Wasn't entirely sure where he was or what was happening.

His vision began to fade.

"I'm losing him!" Haylen screams just as you finish up the last enemy.

All he could hear was his own breaths as everything started to fill into an inky blackness. Your legs heading towards him as Haylen pumped his chest were the last things he saw.

"I love..." He whispered, desperately yet weakly holding his gloved hand out for you, before it crashes to the ground.

The next two days were a total blur.

You were absolutely grief stricken and seemed to just float around above your body as your comrade, friend and mentor fought for his life.

Thank god Rhys had pulled through and managed to transmit a distress pulser, a vertibird swooping down to your aid in all its glory.

But it didn't feel like a successful mission while Danse was lying in his quarters, fighting for his life.

You'd popped in to check in on him for the countless time, the bed sinking slightly as you perched yourself next to his warm body. He was shirtless, his abdomen wrapped in bandages, the shrapnel of his exploding suit no doubt gifting him with more battle scars.

Oh Danse... You think as you gently stroke his stubbled face.

You jump when his hand finds its way to your wrist, his now open cocoa eyes melting at the sight of you.

"Y/N..." He croaks.

You immediately pass him the glass of water that sat on his bedstand, aiding him as he gulped it desperately.

"How you feeling?" You asked, hiding how concerned you were. "You had us all worried there, Paladin."

"I've been better." He lets out a weak laugh.

Such a soldier...

"Well, I'm glad you're back with us, sir." You smile softly, not able to stop the silent tear that rolled down your precious face.

"Don't call me that." He wavered his hand dismissively, thumbing your tear away with his other.

You seem taken aback in surprise.

He notices your expression. "Y/N, I... Have to tell you something. I'm uh... Not very good at this sort of thing."

"it's okay." You smile, running your fingers through his raven black hair. "I heard you... You don't have to say a thing."

His brow furrows for a second wondering what you meant, before soaring up when he remembered.

"You did, huh? Sorry about -"

You silence him by pressing your lips against his. You know him all too well and you were certain he would never dream of making the first move. This man oozed testosterone yet when it came to using it on anything other than fighting, he was like a lost child.

He returns your kiss, cupping your face tenderly; the adrenaline rush from your lips against his sweeter than any rush he'd gotten from any battle.

His pace quickened, rapidly getting desperate after yearning for you for so long, keeping his crush a secret from everyone; even himself at first.

"y/n..." He breathes. "I need you."

The imprint of his excitement pressed against the sheets that covered his lower half.

"You're not in any shape for that." You laugh softly.

His eyes plead but his mouth utters; "Yeah... Maybe not right now."

You get to your feet, grabbing the zip of your brotherhood jumpsuit, your eyes transforming into the orbs of a vixen as you slowly pulled it down.

His lips parted and eyes widened hungrily, as if getting bigger would somehow take more of what he was seeing into his essence.

Your clothing fell to the floor, your body as naked and vulnerable as the day you were born; offering him your body as well as your heart.

His tongue rolls over his bottom lip, then he stutters in awe.

"Y- y/n..."

You remove the sheet that covered him before climbing between his legs.

You waited for protest. To see if he was still too hurt to handle even the most tender forms of love.

But he remained silent; say for his increased breathing.

"Tell me if it gets too much." Your voice carries through the air full of affection.

"I..." He begins, a pink hue starting to colour his skin. "I won't last long."

"That's okay." You reassured before lowering your head and running your tongue from the base of his shaft, all the way up his thick dick and to the top.

He gasps and grips the sheets, his barrel chest rapidly bobbing up and down.

Circling your tongue around his leaking tip, you delight in his disbelieving stare down at you. He groans out loudly and bucks his hips automatically as you swallow him whole, slowly working him with your mouth, tongue and hand.

All you could both think of was you wouldn't have dreamed this would even be possible back when you first met. The two of you thinking the same; "There's no way they would want me."

His quiet whimpers fill the room arousing you to the point of your insides becoming slick.

She's so... Beautiful he'd thought when he first saw her, barging into the parking lot of the police station heroically, firing down ferrals like it was a hobby.

You pick up the pace. His panting becoming more desperate, his fingers running through his hair at how good it could feel being in your mouth.

"Y/N. I'm going to cum soon." He warns.

You moan, vibrating him as you plunge him to the back of your throat over and over sending him over the edge.

He whispers an "Ah~!" as his jaw falls open, brows knitting together while he pulses thick, hot liquid down your throat. You took it all swallowing it by the cup load.

"Sh-shit, y/n!"

You didn't think you'd ever hear him curse at you like that.

Removing your mouth he lies there, a ruined mess wondering if he'd actually died the other day and was in heaven. You gently lay yourself beside him where he wraps his arms around you and plants a kiss on your head.

"...Ad Victoriam." He gasps.

"...Please don't say that after sex again."

I hope you enjoyed. Still waiting for the computer store to call me so it was on my phone. This got a little more angsty than intended 😅

#fallout 4 #paladin danse #fallout 4 danse #fallout danse #danse x sole survivor #fallout #fallout x reader #brotherhood of steel

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i-cant-sing · 4 years ago

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Hi, this isn't a request. I was just feeling really down and yes, I will admit that I actually cried till my eyes were red. My school is putting an immense load of pressure on me, and I try my best to cope with stuff. Well, I still get somewhat decent grades, but we have tests every single freaking day, every week and we even have these nonsensical periodic tests from 4-5 days. And on top of that since I'm in a class that teaches advanced Math, Physics and Chemistry, we have tests in those too. I always used to think that I was strong and capable of handling myself under pressure but.... apparently I was mistaken. I'm at that stage where I've used up all the tears in my eyes. I keep dishing out advice to people on what to do when you're feeling low, lol I can't even follow my own advice

Welp, sorry to bother you and dump my nonsensical feelings on you, love your work by the way. It's amazing as always :)

Study motivation ahead!

My dude, I feel you. Okay, story time: I used to be the kind of kid who never scored above 75% most of her life. Girl, I didn't even care about my education, just as long I passed. I didn't even know what scholarships were until I was 16 or something. When I got to highschool, my world was turned upside down. Suddenly, there was this immense pressure on my education, that my grades in highschool will determine which career/uni I get into. From barely studying an a hour a day to studying 8 hours a day(on top of school and tutitons). But I wasn't really studying if I was being honest. I was just finding loopholes and shortcuts. And as we know "there are no shortcuts to success" blah blah. Lord knows how I passed chemistry when I opened my textbook for the second time before the night if my test. Somehow, I passed with fairly decent grades (even though my prep was shit).

But then, I peaked in grades 11-12. Anon, when I tell u the pressure was on, the pressure was ON. My god, I was at school and tutitons every single day, for 15 hours. Now minus about 7 hours if sleep out of that, and I get 2 hours to myself, which I would spend on socials or Netflix to keep myself sane. I had tests both at school and at tutitons, every single day, so u didn't even have time to prepare for them. I used to study for school tests, during school hours and for tutors test, during school and omw to the tutors. I was sleep deprived af, my body was getting tired and lazy and unfit because I had no time for any extracurricular activities. Maybe I went out 2-3 times a year for lunch. My only source of happiness was my phone or the very rare grocery trips. Now, how tf did someone like me, who did not give a single shit about her education, suddenly became so invested in her studies????

Simple, I found my motivation. Now, these are 3 things that kept me motivated:

Pettiness. God, I can't begin to count the number of times teachers have undermined me, straight up told me that it'd be surprise if I got anything above a 55%. What did I do to warrant this judgement you ask? I called them out on their shitty teaching methods. It just made me so fucking happy when I would accept their challenges.

Secondly, I hated the the class topper. It wasn't anything personal really, I just really hated the favouritism she got from the teachers. (Also she used to bitch about us to them, so yeah.) When I tell you it made me euphoric to see the look on her face when I got grades higher than her, it's a feeling out of this world. Because she couldn't comprehend how someone who was as carefree and absent-minded as me, someone who had was always busy making friends with everyone and didn't have her nose stuck in her book, someone who appeared to put the bare minimum effort, got better grades than her- it was amazing. (Don't worry, we're good friends now.)

Finally, I was someone who would get adrenaline rush when I used to be under pressure. Instead if breaking down, I used to thrive under pressure (its okay if u don't.) I was addicted to the feeling of working everything at the last minute and when I would get good grades, it was like "worth it" feeling every single time.

Oh also, one more thing that got me through this stressful time was this: this too shall pass. No matter how bad things may seem right now, no matter what important test you have failed or have to retake, always remember that bad times don't stay forever. So don't worry all too much, just a worry a bit.

Now that I'm in college, the stress levels here are on a whole different level now. College studies are way different than school studies. And there's a lot of students, so teachers aren't picking on me so I can't use the petty method to study. I do like to engage in a competition with my friends from time to time though. Its super fun. And this may make you a bit envious of me, but what ive observed here is that most times, my minimum effort vs my friends maximum efforts get me more often than not, grades higher than them. But remember, I wasn't a born prodigy. I'm still the little kid who thought her entire world was about to end when she got a 3/20 on Maths in grade 3 lol😂😂😂

*pats your head* Just find the loopholes, find your motivation, don't stress too much. It all works out in the end.

Your knowledge never goes to waste.

Hope this helped!

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kyovtani · 4 years ago

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u said bodyguard konoha?!! I AM HERE BITCH. i’ll be saying with all my heart i am a slut for mafia au.

imagine just imagine konoha in a simple black suit with his black gun strapped to his waist. he’s not much of a talker but he stays with u for so long. but he’s always there for you for ur protection. he feels attracted but he knows that ur off limits and that his boss will lit kill him lol. but u on the other hand with ur cute lil outfits, pretty earring, occasionally with some hair clips struts around like it’s ur world. he thinks it’s kinda funny how u bring these stupid college boys home thinking they’ll be with u and love u when all they want is to get in ur pants. he’s seen ur breakdowns and cry baby days. after a while of shitty boys, u start to see konoha as something more too bad he’s not interested (that’s what u think anyway) but maybe just maybe there will be a lucky day where u let him fuck u until ur crying and let him take care of ur stupid babie ass 💗

HERES MORE- imagine being a lil brat and then he just fucks u to shut u up with his gun in ur mouth.

NONIE !! THE TASTE PLS IM ABSOLUTELY DEVASTED MWAH

he always watches those little wannabes enter your room with those pathetic tents in their pants, followed by the sound of the headboard of your bed hitting the wall for a good five minutes before they stay a little longer and then usually leave you all alone to yourself. and konoha knows you finish the job whenever they leave, you always do because none of them give it to you the way you crave it oh so badly.

he's heard you cry over these stupid boys way too many times for his personal liking but he's never mentioned it to anybody, not even his best friends. he can't risk his precious job he worked so hard for just because he's made the big mistke of developing a stupid crush on yoj like some teenager.

but he can't stand it. the thought of you laying in your bed, crying over a boy who not only failed to fuck you right but also broke your heart is what literally keeps him up at night.

konoha tries to be subtle about it but whenever you leave your room to get a little snack, he tells you to keep your head up and that you deserve better, trying his best to comfort you even id its just with some encouraging words.

it usually doesn't take you long to get over them, just a few weeks passing by until you bring home the next failure of a male.

that's what always happens.

but apparently not this time. no, this time you actually go up to konoha and ask him what's wrong with you because you can't think of a reason as to why they wouldn't stay and that's what breaks his heart into millions of pieces.

"and none of them has made me cum- ever", you just blurt it out, your lips pushed into a pout, eyes glossy and cheeks stained with dried tears, "i always have go finish it myself, kono. is something wrong with me?"

and before you even get to finish that question, he starts shaking his head.

"no, ba- no, little one. it's them. they don't know what the fuck they're doing and just think about blowing their load. you need someone who puts your pleasure over their own, and i guarantee you'll be cumming so, so much. it's not you, i promise."

upon hesring the certainty in his voice, you basically beg konoha to fuck you right, telling him how badly you wakt him to stuff you full of his cum and have you cum around his fat cock for hours. and even though he does feel guilty, he still does it because your happiness is what he cares about the most

so as he rams his fat cock into your tight little pussy, pushing you towards your nth high of the night, he doesn't think of sll the possible consequences, he just lets another drop of his spit fall into your mouth before he praises you for taking him so well <33

#⛓.bodyguard!kono #spit tw #✉️.kyov’s spice

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aquagustd · 3 years ago

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE PERSON THAT MAKES ME GOO HIEHIEHIE AFTER EVERY UPDATE OF HIE.

THIS ISNT A JOKE BTW.

I'm serious, me loves it.

You deserve all the love for your writing and presence and nothing less.😤

Although I'm a silent reader, which, I'd formally, like to apologise for:

I've just been DROWNED IN ILL HEALTH AND STUDIES BUT ONCE IM DONE WITH MY EXAMS, IMMA BE YOUR BEST HYPEWOMAN🎤🗣️

Honestly, you make my shittiest days better with your writing and if someone has shit to say about it, I hope their day goes shitty too🥰

Wishing you a load of gifts, forehead kisses and positive vibes 💫

Also, hell ain't empty coz we there, booked and bougie.

I hate how i ruin my endings?

I shouldve stopped after the star thingy-

Wait, why do you make so comfortable to rant my head voice here 😭

Can I say I wuv u again?

You just, idk, make me feel happy.

Please be happy and when ever you're down, just remind yourself of some broke ass humour girl is rooting for you.

Btw, you need a hand-

I OFFICIALLY DEPART.

HIEHIEHIE ??? 💀😭😭 that’s how i go when i’m writing it too PLEASE this made me laugh, cry and giggle like a goof 🥺😭 you make me happy too & i hope you get better soon & your exams go well <333 i’m rooting for you too and i’ll always be here to listen to your funny rambling pls ♡ ilyttttt

#i will cry #squishies #23

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inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years ago

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Hi Steph!

I’m sorry it’s my first time sending you an ask, so I dunno which button I clicked man. Sorry about that.

Ok, so what I wanted to request! I love your blog. You’re really kind and genuine, and I’ve found some great fics to light up my day from here. But sometimes, the posts are suuupppeeerr long, and I may not be looking for this info exactly? Like it clogs up a lot of my dash. So I wanted to request if you could use a “read more” feature after a brief, at least for the fic rec posts.

I hope I didn’t offend or anything. Thank u for all the kindness you put into the world each day. Have a good day fren!

Hey Nonny!

Ahh, okay, you’re not going to like what I am going to say, but you are very respectful and were smart and sandwiched your issue in compliments, so Ahhhh, I feel conflicted now.

With all due respect Nonny, this is my blog and I get more engagement on my lists if people can see the full list; many people prefer it that way, and honestly I get crapped on either way, so I’ve made the executive decision to not cut my posts. The only time I do is on “second” reblog on super long LONG lists so that I have a “cut” and “uncut” version of the post, but even those I’ve been reducing.

I’ve tried both ways, and full posts get better notice. All I want to do is share my love of fics and content with y’all, and the best way to do that is to just have it all there so people know what they’re getting.

Plus, am I to just “readmore” every single reply on my posts? A lot of the reason my blog has stayed as long as it has is because I’ve always been a very interactive blog. People LIKE seeing their replies added to a comment thread on my post, and it helps smaller blogs get noticed. It’s not much on the surface, but I’ve had smaller blogs come to me DELIGHTED that their name is now attached to one of my posts that are going through a “popular reblog cycle” (that is, a post that is being interacted with for a good few days before I actually finally add it to the month-reblog queue). It helps create a sense of community, I feel, and that’s one of the things I am very honoured to be: a starting place for community.

And this is just in a general sense and NOT directed at you, more at the people who shit on me in the notes of my long posts, but I don’t GET people getting upset about my TEXT BASED POST WITH NO IMAGES IN IT, but not on any of the image or playlist posts I reblog, which take FOREVER to load on mobile. I GENUINELY don’t get it. I don’t even use the app on my phone, I’m logged into the browser on my phone, because the app is garbage.

The problem is the app, in my opinion. That’s the gist of it. It loads slow, it scrolls terribly, and the UI is annoying, but instead app users blame the bloggers and not the fact that Tumblr staff ignore every suggestion we make. And because more of the newer people use their mobiles these days, us old-time Tumblr users are expected to microblog like the shitty sites that are Twitter or Facebook. Tumblr is a blogging platform, like LiveJournal, laid out all nicely and clean and honestly, (the royal you) you’re getting exactly what you signed up for: long posts, opinions, and interaction. If one wants shitty layouts, shitty comment threads you can’t follow and reactionaries, go to Twitter. Call me a boomer, whatever, I just find Tumblr so much more appealing now more than ever.

Sorry, I’ve needed to get this off my chest for awhile now. I don’t know. Maybe I’m being pedantic. I don’t care, really. My thoughts on this: if (the royal) you don’t like the content, or find stuff annoying, don’t follow me.

Because you know what a lot of my longest posts are? Helpline numbers at the bottom of posts. Useful links. And just stuff that make people happy. People in despair are not going to click on a read more of a post. People who want links to resources aren’t going to click on a read more. People who just want happiness after a stressful day are literally just scrolling to smile, and they ain’t gonna click a read more.

YES, there are reasons read mores are good, absolutely. I just PERSONALLY don’t like them because I like engagement. I don’t get much of it anymore on my posts, EXCEPT the fic rec posts, and THOSE work better as a full view.

BUT NONNY PLEASE KNOW I AM NOT UPSET AT ALL WITH YOU, and you’ve given me a great opportunity to discuss this thing that I’ve put off for awhile because the other people were less-than-kind, and it only made me NOT address it out of simple spite because I’m nothing if not a passive aggressive old lady.

So, here are a few ideas you can implement:

If you like my posts but not the longest ones, I always tag them “long post”. Tumblr finally has its own tag blocking feature, so just block “long post”. All of my very long lists will be blocked, and you can decide if you want to click on them based on what the additional tags are. I try my best to tag all my lists appropriately.

Similarly, you can “tag block” my username, and only click on the posts you like the tags for.

DON’T TAKE THIS THE WRONG WAY, PLEASE, this isn’t a “so there!” comment, I promise!!: You can unfollow me if you’re only following me for the fic lists, and instead follow me on Twitter at @inevitablyjohn1, which is used only to promote my new lists and art. Every Wednesday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday I post up the Wednesday Reblog, Five Fics Friday, Fic Rec Roundup, and Fic Rec Sunday, with a link to each post :) Then you’ll get all the lovely full lists I post 4 times a week. OF COURSE, this is the option I don’t want to happen, because I love all my lovelies and you’ll miss out on the random fics, insightful asks, and suggestions I get throughout the week, BUT I want you to enjoy your time on Tumblr, and if my blog is causing you stress, it’s the last thing I want to happen. I love all of y’all too much to see that!

THAT ALL SAID, Nonny, I’m really sorry to disappoint you, and I hope you understand my POV on this. I just don’t see any benefit on my part, for MY blog, which I run for MY happiness which has the side effect of making other people happy. I also hope you will still stick around regardless, but I care about your well being and I understand if you have to leave.

AND everyone, please don’t be harsh on this Nonny! They asked a question respectfully and deserve our respect in kind.

I truly wish you the loveliest of days, Nonny, and have a great week! <3

#steph replies #my blog #blog things #tumblr things #ironically:#long post #Anonymous

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frenchphobic · 4 years ago

Text

long fucking post on why a c!dream is a shitty person and probably should not have a redemption because it is unpog

honestly i just want to refute dream apologists thats why im making this post. i think that dream as a villain is interesting but i think that trying to make him out to be secretly a good guy is just bad ngl. also /roleplay and all

tw for abuse and mentions of suicide

dream as a villain

dream is a villain. he is chaotic evil according to wilbur, deliberately does not stream to appear less sympathetic (and yet), and is set up as an antagonist to tommy who bears the title ‘hero’. dream is not a good person, no matter how you look at it or try to justify his actions.

‘but he wants to unite everyone to be a big family :((’ the ends dont justify the means believe it or not. having a vaguely positive goal does not excuse the actions you’ve done. it also goes hand and hand with saying dream is correct for punishing tommy the way he did because he acted up. if i socked you across the face and then suddenly said ‘sorry there was a roach on ur face’ does that make it okay? probably not i still punched you, enacting an unnecessary amount of violence. thats a very simple analogy i will admit and there are more complex comparisons. another example off the top of my head is say a child just scribbled all over you walls with crayons. would hitting them be a justified answer? if u said hes thats really fucked of u go seek help u loon. violence as a punishment is very toxic, just because it gets the job done does not mean it is okay. at the end of the day, you still committed this act and the harm you caused is real, having a good motive doesnt suddenly make it okay.

‘but tommy causes all of the conflict’ the disk war wasnt even caused by tommy, it was sapnap and then tommy got involved. and the reason why tommy even caused conflict was because of the discs, because he wanted them back. and most of the time there was a level of antagonism from another party, such as schlatt exiling him, dream taking the disks in the first place, dream threatening l’manberg. and if dream wanted to end the conflict so badly, why didnt he just give tommy back his disks? tommy upfront said everything started with the disks, so he wants them back so he could end the conflict. notice how after tommy got his disks back he has been staying out of conflict, apologizing to everyone, and the only bad thing hes done is try to scam people but everyone does that. this would have been the most peaceful option, yet dream chose the path that would further antagonize tommy which then draws everyone else into conflict. why did dream need to have leverage over tommy so badly? why did he want to hold power over tommy so badly? its because of control, and that’s ultimately dreams end goal. sure he wants a big server family, but would said family have a free will?

‘but dream is sad’ the thing is dream is completely at fault for everything that happened to him. he pushed away sapnap (and george ig). he tried to take control over the server and their possessions. literally everything that happened to tommy. literally everything involving ranboo. villains can be sympathetic, i am not arguing against that. but it does not mean that they should be left off the hook. that doesnt mean u should ignore the shit theyve done because ‘oh no theyre sad’ because it doesnt make anything better. dream had this shit coming for him.

now people also skirt around calling dream an abuser. which is fair ig, its a very loaded word. its much easier to say manipulated. that being said, dream can classify as abusive. and no, tommy is not abusive. abuse is about control and a power imbalance. dream has power over tommy, but tommy does not have power over dream, at least not in the way dream does. he’s taking back power to stand up for himself, dream uses power to control.

the reasons i listed for why dream is from the Domestic Abuse Intervention Project so if u want a source on that, there you go.

using coercion or threats: dream often threatened tommy, such as the pit thing and often employed violence on him. while normally this could be attributed to Normal Minecraft Player Go Smack. minecraft mechanics cannot always translate to real world since violence is pretty normal in minecraft however we also need to consider the context of the scene. dream gave an order, tommy refused, dream applies violence, tommy submitted. thats why its a threat, it has tangible effects that can correlate to real life.

using intimidation: dream blew up logsteadshire as a punishment. dream also destroyed tommys items anytime he visited. dream also hit tommy with his axe i believe. he killed mushroom henry, one of tommys pets.

Using Emotional Abuse: dream guiltripped the shit out of tommy for just hiding things and pinning the blame on tommy for just wanting his own private items. he definitely played mind games on tommy, pretending to be his friend. honestly i probably dont even need to go as in depth because it was so obvious.

Using Isolation: putting him in exile in the first place. destroying the bether portal so no one could visit tommy anymore. i really dont think i need to expand upon that.

Minimizing, Denying, and Blaming: dream in tommys stream when he got trapped said that exile wasnt that bad. he does shift the blame onto tommy for logsteadshire being blown up, even though dreams reaction was entirely unjustified for not listening and hiding.

Using Economic Abuse: see this is where i attempt to parallel minecraft mechanics to real life. obviously, there is no monetary system in place, so when i mean economic, i will use valuables such as armor, food, etc in place of currency. the idea behind economic abuse is to limit the victim’s resources so that they are dependent on the abuser and cannot escape. dream only really allowed tommy to have the armor he gave him while not giving access to armor so he does not regain a sense of power, and in the prison stream, dream holds all the potatoes which puts him in a position of power over tommy. this argument is more ambiguous i feel cause the whole minecraft mechanics thing is kinda weird so u don’t necessarily have to take this part in.

i feel like i need to emphasize this very strongly because dream is not a good person. abuse cannot and should not be a response to someone. its an awful mentality to have. i just want to prove the point that dream is not a good person, his reasons absolutely do not justify his actions.

what makes a good redemption

redemption arcs are tricky. when done right they are great. when done poorly, its a slap in the face. rn im going to establish a formula to what makes a good redemption with an example.

the most well known example of a good redemption is zuko from atla. first, its the magnitude of what theyve done and why. zuko did commit some shitty actions, since he was in a position of power in the fire nation but its because he is a child being abused and wanted to regain honor. zukos real awful acts was season 1 and the whole betrayal thing. thats not to say that zukos actions suddenly are okay, he did shitty things. but its something that can be traced to a higher entity or seem less malicious then the other villains. the thing also about the magnitude of actions is that there is a certain point of atrocities that there is no redemption. some people simply cannot be redeemed because the actions they commit are so ingrained in their character or the action itself has serious moral issues that it would just be wrong.

the next is acknowleding what they did was wrong. a genuine reflection on the self and analyzing what they did and why it was not okay. zuko realized what he did to uncle iroh was bad for example. he turned his back on his father, realizing he didnt and shouldnt seek acknowledgment from someone as heinous as him. its pointing out your actions and going ‘hey, this wasnt right i should not have done this’ and not even excusing ur actions. its also going straight for the root of the problem and figuring out to stamp it from the source. just because a character is sad does not mean they are reflecting, sometimes they are attempting to garner pity. it has to be direct and clear acknowledgement of the injustice.

and finally, an important part about redemption arcs is the actual redemption part. its when you make amends. zuko made amends with katara by trying to help her get revenge, he fought against the fire nation and tried to make things more peaceful in his rule. he apologized to iroh. an important part of the amends section is that it does have to be a genuine desire to change and become a better person, not to change a person’s perception of you. the thing is u cant expect a person youve hurt to forgive you. you cant expect people to be sympathetic towards you nor should u attempt to make urself sympathetic. u shouldnt be expecting a pat on the back or an award. redemption is about internal and character change.

why dream should not be redeemed

ive already established the key points to a good redemption (imo) but heres where dream falls short. his actions are extremely heavy so redemption may not even really be possible. abuse is not something you can wave off so it does cross to the point of fucked up. acknowledgement of what he did was wrong? all he said was that he changed, yet never explained why he changed or was too vague. he needed to label specifically what he did and bring it up. attempting to make amends? he’s been doing the exact opposite in fact he continues to manipulate tommy and ranboo. its not a genuine change. he is still repeating the cycle and has given no indication of ceasing. at the moment he does not have any signs of redemption.

and the thing is most of the attention around a dream redemption comes from either justifying his motives (which i do want to emphasize does not make anything suddenly okay) and because he is sad in prison sad face. these are not good reasons. its gonna pain me severely to bring this up but snape from harry potter does have some form of sad character ig yet he very much abused his authority to bully children as old as 11 just because he said ‘aight gonna die’ doesnt suddenly make his general bigotry and abuse suddenly okay there is a threshold. again im so sorry for using harry potter as an example none were coming to mind and i needed a popular one i do not like harry potter please dont say i do i would pass away.

and the last thing to consider is the audience. keep in mind that the audience is composed of minors and while yes there are adults, minors are the main component of the fandom. keep in mind that there are quite a few people who can relate to tommys character because they might be in the same position or have gone through his experiences. tell me what kind of message does it send to that audience that abusers can be redeemed. this is not a narrative u should push to this audience in these situations and the writers are seemingly aware of it. remember how in exile tommy spiraled into a suicidal mentality? consider how fucked of a message it would be if he just committed suicide instead of escaping abuse and attempting to recover from his experiences. tommy did an excellent job in not going that route and having a message of ‘it will not get better’. its the same thing here. victims are not obligated to care for or forgive their abuser, and portraying an abuser as sympathetic might fuck with the message a lot, even change their perception in that ‘oh, maybe my abuser was right, maybe they had a reason for treating me the way they did’. this is not to say that every victim watching this will internalize this message, but people also look up to these characters. there can be a degree of influence from the story onto oneself and thats the dangerous part.

conclusion

all in all dream is a shitbag asshole and probably shouldnt get a redemption because it would not be pog thanks for coming to my ted talk.

#dream smp #dsmp #tommyinnit #dreamwastaken

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old-blanket-man · 4 years ago

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danganronpa hot takes because i hate this fucking series, a new game is coming, and danganronpa tumblr is pretty chill (spoilers for every game lol:

- chapter two in every game is just,, god teir im sorry

- genocider has the best sprites/art

- also shes super fuckign funny?

- other than thh really, the anime is bad. its so fucking boring

- sdr2 was the worst game in terms of storyline. worse than v3. v3's trials saved it for me, but sdr2 was a clusterfuck of sexualization and garbage

- like yeah makoto was stupid but at least it made sense

- ig i'll add this, no i didn't care when hajime was all "im not re a L?" because he was unrelatable and boring as shit

- kaede as protag and angie as antag would have been better for v3

- honestly they should have made angie more important, she was pretty funny and her relationship with god could have been used more

- himiko is gross and has the worst voice in the entire series

- nekomaru could have been such a good character (in a q-taro after chapter one of yttd type beat) but he was just shit jokes till he died.

- also im in love with nekomaru i'll put this here

- sdr2 had the best and worst executions in the series (one woman army for best and whatever the fuck mikan was for worst)

- can we talk about how stupid junko's execution in thh?

- no? okay then, kirigiri wasn't a support character until chapter 6

- there is no fucking reason for teruteru to be a pervert but they gave him the trait anyway to meet the gross character quota.

- i honestly really fucking hate sonia shes so boring bro

- hifumi is extremely relatable and pretty funny but god danganronpa doesn't know how to draw anyone who isn't skinnier than a fucking pencil

- people making joeks about chest size is weird especially since you're supposed to see these characters as minors most of the time ("but they're actually-" stfu i could care less.)

- fuyuhiko was the only character to likee,,, actually develop other than the protags and antags

- ryoma single handedly improved the v3 cast by just existing

- the previous one is mostly a joke, but he is my favorite from that game i think his cardboard cutout base (every dr character is just a trope guys, dont think this is dynamic shit) is actualyl pretty interesitng.

- 11037, mondo butter, fairy, etc jokes weren't funny, currently aren't funny, and will never be funny.

- i did enjoy chapter 3 thh, but it was super easily predictable because no one else was smart enough to do that

- i hate sdr2 chapter 3 it was just sorta shitty (though mikan my beloved)

- chapter 3 v3 was,, okay. korekiyo my beloved.

- monokuma is super funny and i laughed at him a lot. his voice is only good in the thh anime though.

- i keep bringing up the anime because its better paced then the games uwuw

- the woh are some of the best villians. they're relatable, funny, and have super interesting personalities because of it. also kotoko is the best one i dont make the rules man

- nagito's english va sounds like he smoked 50 a day

- EVERYONE'S JAPANESE VA IS BETTER THAN THEIR ENGLISH

- the only english performances i really really liked were miu's (it captures her perfectly, the lines are delivered so well), teruterus (they get the gross lines down well, the screaming was well done, also :sparkling_heart: im in love), and genociders (idk its just done really well, as i said all the lines are pretty funny, but with the voice acting it makes it better)

- danganronpa shouldn't have been at e3, i screamed when i saw it. not a positive scream. i was terrified.

- i genuinely don't like many danganronpa ships, but i'll list a few of my favorites because its about meeee today: teruteru x nekomaru (they get one,, mildly sexual scene together but omg they'd work out nice), kirumi x ryoma (idk what to say its a comfort ship, give ryoma the happy 2021), sakura x toko (remember that scene in the manga? yes), tsumugi x hifumi (im a rairpair guy, this one is a tdp thing, they'd be cute), angie x miu (they get like 0 interactions but they'd play off each other really well), peko x fuyuhiko (sobs)

- nagito isn't well written hes annoying

- same with ouma lol

- togami isn't super bad, i still fucking hate him loads during the first few chapters

- have i mentioned im in love with nekomaru? i think i have

- also you shouldn't hate people for enjoying characters like wow u hate them cool stfu now

- im being really harsh on this series because it really has changed my life for what should be the better, but now that the magic of a new fandom has faded, i can finally take a step back and criticize it (even if i am a little harsh)

- nagtio is going to kiss a girl in the new game

#danganronpa #thh #sdr2 #v3 #idk #uh #danganronpa opinions #hot takes #danganronpa hot takes #lol #shitpost #mostly a shitpost #some opinons #danganronpa fandom #dr opinions #sdr2 goodbye despair #killing harmony #trigger happy havoc

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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Me and You Together, 3/10 (Taywhora) - Ortega

fic summary: The cardinal rule of having flatmates is that you Do Not Catch Feelings For Your Flatmates, because everything inevitably goes to shit and gets made horrifically awkward. A’whora and Tayce both know this, but being in first year of uni and making good decisions have never really gone hand in hand.

a/n: again, fucking bowled over by the love and support this has had so far. i cannot thank any of u enough, ur all absolute wee diamonds in the sky. hope u enjoy this one- we’re in January for this one, where the girls have to deal with the consequences of December…and Tayce is tasked with keeping a secret for Lawrence.

last chapter: September- On a damp, bright Saturday in September, six flatmates move into their student flat and meet for the first time.

this chapter: January- Tayce and A’whora still have unfinished business from a night out and a hungover morning in December. But it’s only awkward if they make it awkward…right?

***

Tayce is pretty sure she’s going to combust if something doesn’t happen soon.

It’s been a month and a week since A’whora kissed her, and twenty-four hours shorter than that since Tayce kissed her in return. Or thereabouts, it’s not like she’s counting. It’s not like it’s been consuming her every thought every waking moment of the day or anything.

In all fairness, Tayce seems like it’s an achievement to think about a kiss for that length of time. Especially through her first semester essay deadlines, Ellie’s raucous eighteenth, her first Christmas back home, her first New Year seeing all her old school friends after uni and updating Cheryl and Cara on everything. She’d drunkenly come out to Cheryl too after being gently encouraged and supported by Cara, and they’d both cried as Cheryl held her and confessed that since uni had started she’d also begun seeing a girl she really liked too.

It’s funny how at uni everybody seems so much more free. Away from a stifling hometown, Tayce and her friends can properly spread their wings and be who they’ve always been but have either not realised it or been afraid to show it. Tayce is the happiest she’s ever been when she’s at the flat with the others in her little bubble of a home away from home, with Bimini’s intelligent insights and Tia’s funny quips, Lawrence’s chaos and Ellie’s kindness and A’whora being…well, her best friend.

Except she’s not really sure that best friends kiss each other like that.

But maybe they do, because since they’ve all come back from home after Christmas A’whora hasn’t mentioned the kisses, as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened between them. Hasn’t even joked about it with her or in front of the others (which is fair enough, as if Lawrence knew she’d probably tease them about it until they graduated). Tayce is pretty sure that none of the others even know, or at least if they do they’ve not spoken about it.

And the worst part is that A’whora has been absolutely…normal. Fine.

See, Tayce could’ve dealt with any awkwardness- she’d be upfront, bluntly ask A’whora if she wants to forget about it or what she wants the plan for them to be. Even better would’ve been if A’whora had rugby-tackled her the moment she’d got back from Wales and smothered her with kisses, told her how much she’d been thinking about her while they’d both been away. Tayce supposes it’s kind of her fault they never properly talked about it since she’d practically bolted out of A’whora’s room when she’d kissed her that morning, but she’d been nervous in case she’d made everything too weird. A’whora hadn’t seemed to be complaining at the time, though.

In fact that night, A’whora had been up for plenty more than just a drunk kiss. If Tayce thinks about everything she’d said when they were walking home her face still gets hot and she has to squeeze her thighs together. She’s definitely glad they never crossed any of those particular lines when they’d both been drinking, but sometimes when she’s lying in bed at night Tayce lets her hands drift between her legs as she thinks about A’whora telling her how much and for how long she’d wanted her.

Best friends definitely don’t do that.

So Tayce feels guilty spending time with just A’whora these days, the fact that things haven’t been awkward between them somehow being worse than if they were. She’s not been avoiding her per sé, she’s just been finding ways to make sure it’s very rarely the two of them alone together: hanging out in the kitchen with everyone instead of in her room, going to bed when the others do instead of staying up with A’whora, inviting the others to anything A’whora suggests the two of them do together. It’s silly, and Tayce does miss spending time alone with her, but A’whora acting like nothing’s happened while conversely Tayce wants everything to happen hurts her embarrassingly more than she’d care to admit.

Such a time is a lazy Sunday afternoon halfway through the shittiest month of the year, when the weather outside is full of misty rain that’s a recipe for frizzy hair, puddles, and misery. Just to add to the rubbish day Tayce is holed up in her room, watching the grey clouds drift and overlap over each other to create a paint colour chart in the sky as she begins an essay that’s due in a mere five days. It’s been hard to focus on anything when her head is full of her best friend and imaginary scenarios but the prospect of an all-nighter isn’t one that’s particularly desirable either, so she and the ninety-five words she’s written so far are engaged in a stand-off as Tayce waits for the essay to write itself and the word document waits for her brain cells to conjure up any more opinions on “Is art a conveyor of emotion?” (4000 words).

And then there’s a knock on the door that doesn’t wait for permission to enter and A’whora bounces in. She’s in a pair of grey joggers and a baggy navy pyjama top that she’s tucked in at the waist and rolled up the sleeves of, and her hair is up in a bun that’s had approximately 5% effort put into it apart from the little diamante hair clasp she’s slid through it at the top.

In spite of herself, Tayce can’t help but snort when she sees her. “Only you could make your shitty potato loungewear fashion.”

“Shut up! This is haute couture. This is actually my final project for the semester,” A’whora jokes in return, moves to sit at the foot of her bed and pout at her. “Tayyyce. I’m boreddd.”

Tayce raises an eyebrow at A’whora’s whining from over her laptop screen. “And I’m doing this essay. Find someone else to bug.”

“Don’t be such a hound,” A’whora frowns, falling sideways and landing onto the bed so she’s hugging Tayce’s legs through the duvet, her head resting on her shins. “I’d annoy Ellie but she’s in town with one of her friends from home. C’mon, let’s do a movie day. We’ve not had one in ages. I feel like we’ve barely had any time together since you got back.”

“Just been trying to catch up on all my coursework. It’s not personal,” she lies, her heart sinking only the tiniest bit at the realisation that her attempts at staying out of A’whora’s way have obviously been louder than they’ve been subtle.

“Please?” A’whora bats her lashes, and if it was impossible to say no to her before it’s surely illegal to do so now.

Tayce sighs and closes her laptop, eliciting a smile from the other girl. “Fine. Fine! But you better ask the others, I don’t want them feeling left out.”

It’s a good spur-of-the-moment excuse to make sure Tayce doesn’t have to spend two hours cuddled up next to A’whora while her heart hurts, but she’s confused by the way a small look of something passes over A’whora’s expression. She can’t put her finger on what it is, but A’whora’s agreeing and bounding down to the living room before Tayce can figure it out.

Tayce throws on her dressing gown over her clothes before leaving her room to join her, the blue fluffy one with the narwhal hood that’s complete with a horn on the top. She doesn’t own many embarrassing items of clothing, but this is definitely one of them. It doesn’t matter too much, though. A’whora’s seen her in it before, when she’s been hungover or sad or hangry and on her period.

It’s so funny how she can only have known her five months and still feel closer to her than half of the friends she spent six years with at high school.

In the kitchen, A’whora’s already cheerfully getting organised as Bimini and Lawrence lounge on the sofa lazily. Tia’s not in either- it emerges she’s gone round to Veronica’s, which nobody’s surprised about.

“Main question is, what’re we watching?” Bimini asks. “It’s a lazy Sunday so it can’t be anything that’s too good. I want something I can rip the piss out of while I watch it, y’know?”

There’s some squabbling about film choices as A’whora makes popcorn in the microwave, burns it, then subsequently has to make another packet. It’s eventually decided that they’re going to watch Love Actually despite the fact it’s January, because they all either hate it or like it because of how bad it is and the film will simply be a vehicle for them to yell jokes over.

“Have we got anything to drink? We could make this into like…a day drinking situation,” Lawrence suggests casually.

“You’re not helping the stereotype that all Scottish people are alcoholics at all,” A’whora quips, causing Tayce to let out a too-loud laugh.

“Listen, if you’ve not figured out that I’m a walking talking stereotype by now, A’whora, are we even friends?” Lawrence shoots back, and A’whora shrugs in an unspoken fair enough.

Tayce tilts her head then remembers something. “I actually still have loads of canned cocktails in my suitcase that my Mum got me for Christmas. Haven’t unpacked them yet. Think there’s about…twelve?”

“Ooh, three each? That’s alright!” Bimini smiles, clearly buoyed by the prospect of being slightly tipsy in the middle of the afternoon.

“Right, that’s settled then. I’ll go get them,” Tayce decides. A’whora’s crossing the kitchen before she knows it.

“I’ll help you with them.”

Before Tayce can speak, Bimini gives a snort. “ ‘Ow much do you think canned cocktails weigh, exactly?”

As Lawrence bursts into peals of laughter, Tayce watches as A’whora rolls her eyes at them, then turns on her heel to follow her to her room. Tayce can’t help but be a little wary, though. It does kind of seem like A’whora’s trying to get her on her own, which Tayce wouldn’t mind if she knew where she was coming from. But she doesn’t.

Tayce kneels down onto the floor as she rolls her suitcase out from under the bed, chatting mindlessly as she does so because if she’s talking it means A’whora doesn’t have a chance to bring up whatever she clearly wants to bring up. “I think there’s actually eleven here, you know. Because, uh…I think I drank one of them while I was at home, so we’re gonna need to fight over who gets one less. I don’t fancy my chances in a fight against Lawrence, she’d probably give me…what’s that expression? A Glasgow kiss? She’d give me one of those. Although Bimini, what do you think they’d be like in a fight? You know I think they’ve secretly got a set of knuckledusters, they seem the type. Although when I think about it-”

“Tayce,” A’whora cuts in, forcing her to snap her head up. Her expression is troubled, and a little frown dips on her forehead as she looks at her. “What’s wrong? Why are you being so…I don’t know, weird? Like you want to get rid of me?”

Tayce feels ashamed for being called out on her behaviour, and she can feel her stomach drop as she looks back at the cans in her otherwise empty suitcase. She wants to tell her there’s a reason for the way she’s been acting but A’whora beats her to the punch, murmuring with her head down and not meeting Tayce’s eyes.

“Is this because we kissed?”

“A’whora…” Tayce immediately groans in exasperation, the heat rushing to her cheeks as if she’s been slapped. She’s embarrassed, because she knows she’s got the capacity to talk about this like a grown-up but there’s a part of her that’s cringing, because if A’whora’s about to tell her she regrets it then she’s not sure she’ll ever live it down.

There’s a small silence where neither of them seem to move, let alone speak. A’whora is yet again the one to break it. “I just feel like you hate me all of a sudden.”

Fuck. If there was one thing Tayce had wanted to avoid, it’s this. Even though she herself is hurting she can’t bear the thought of having hurt A’whora’s feelings too, so she frowns, reaches up and squeezes A’whora’s hand which prompts her to look at Tayce. “I don’t hate you, Rory, of course I don’t hate you. I just…”

Tayce looks up to the ceiling as she searches for the right words, even though she’s not really sure what they are. She wants to tell A’whora she’s yearning for something to happen again between them and that even the fact she’s holding her hand is setting her pulse off all too quickly, but now’s not the right time. Besides, she doesn’t even know if A’whora feels the same way. Either way, Tayce can hear A’whora holding her breath, can feel the way her body’s tense beside her, so Tayce finally formulates something that doesn’t sound too hot or too cold.

“…I just don’t know where we go from here, that’s all.”

A’whora visibly relaxes, then shrugs. Her voice is quiet as she speaks. “Well, it’s only awkward if we make it awkward. And I feel like I’ve been okay at not making it awkward?”

Tayce narrows her eyes at her, laughs. “So what you’re saying is it’s all my fault.”

“Yes.”

The pair of the giggle softly and things already seem to have shifted back into comfortable territory. The green of a spring bulb popping up through the snow.

Tayce swallows her not-inconsiderable pride and smiles up at A’whora. She supposes going back to being friends and not ever talking about the fact that they kissed again is better than existing in a tense purgatory for the rest of their time in the flat together, even if it does make her feel a little sinking feeling of disappointment and a sense of mourning what could’ve been. “I’m sorry for being such a…mingebag.”

A’whora cracks up, repeats “mingebag!” incredulously, before her laughter dies down and she gives Tayce’s hand a squeeze in return. “That’s okay. Just good to know you still like me.”

They share a soft smile before piling the cocktails high in their arms, cradling them as if they’re babies as they rush back through to the living room where Bimini and Lawrence are hanging up a huge white sheet on the wall opposite the sofa for the projector. The projector had been Tia’s addition to the flat, an AliExpress purchase that had turned out to not be broken, or unusable, or made for a doll’s house.

“Tia won’t mind us borrowing that, will she?” A’whora asks with concern. Lawrence scoffs, bats a hand in her direction dismissively.

“She’ll be too mouth-deep in Veronica to care when she realises we’ve used it, let’s not lie!”

There’s a cry of disgust at Lawrence’s turn of phrase from the others, and as Tayce sets up the cocktails on the little coffee table A’whora brings the bowl of popcorn through.

“It’s fun to be able to make jokes about Tia and her girl, in’t it?” Bimini chuckles good-naturedly. “Always feel like we can’t properly tease her when Ellie’s there ‘cause she always looks like she’s about to jump out the window any time we mention Veronica’s name.”

The revelation that Ellie has feelings for Tia had come via a drunken, tearful confession to the others the night of her eighteenth birthday, when Tia had left the party with Veronica instead of staying overnight at the flat. Poor Ellie had been so devastatingly upset that the others had seemed to forge an unspoken agreement that the situation wasn’t going to be fodder for flat jokes. Instead they make sure to ask Tia how her budding relationship is going when Ellie isn’t around.

As she and A’whora laugh in agreement at Bimini’s joke, Tayce doesn’t miss the way Lawrence grows uncharacteristically quiet.

“When d’you think Ellie will get over Tia? I mean it’s a shame she doesn’t like her back, but she’ll ‘ave to at some point.”

“She won’t. She’ll just pine after her every day until we graduate,” Lawrence says. It’s meant to be a joke but her delivery is somewhat flat, and Tayce wonders if she’s the only one that picks up on it. From the way A’whora and Bimini are laughing, it appears she has been.

Bimini and Lawrence step back from the sheet, satisfied with the job they’ve done. A’whora’s busy plugging in the fairy lights Ellie strung up where the wall meets the ceiling a few months ago, and Tayce can’t help but think to herself that sacking off her essay was a good idea as she glances at their setup. Never let it be said that their flat does things by halves.

“Oh! We should bring duvets through. And blankets,” A’whora suggests, and Tayce’s heart is both warmed and hurt by how adorably enthusiastic she is about the whole endeavour. She wishes she could shake the lingering feeling of disappointment she’s got in her gut at the knowledge that they’ll probably never talk about their kiss again; they’ve moved on from it, it was a one-time thing, and it’s only awkward if they make it awkward so Tayce bringing it up would be awkward, right?

So she settles on the sofa with Lawrence while Bimini helps A’whora gather up all their pillows, cushions, blankets and duvets from their respective rooms. Tayce is about to become lost in her own head when Lawrence turns to her with a look in her eyes that Tayce has never seen before. It’s almost conspiratorial and definitely suspicious, and for one horrific moment Tayce is convinced that Lawrence knows everything that happened in December.

“What is it?” Tayce asks her, before her flatmate can even open her mouth. Lawrence sighs, tips her head back to the head of the sofa and squeezes her eyes shut.

“I need to tell you a secret.”

Tayce’s heart drops as if she’s on a rollercoaster. Her mind immediately jumps to A’whora. What’s she told her? What does Lawrence know? It would make sense to wait until A’whora was out of the room before telling her anything. Tayce tries to keep her face impassive as she turns to Lawrence, nods quietly. “Okay, spill.”

“You can’t tell anyone, Tayce,” Lawrence insists, looking at her pleadingly. Tayce promises she won’t, although in retrospect she probably should’ve asked what it was first. The way Lawrence is acting is intriguing, though. It makes Tayce think it’s something about herself if it’s something she doesn’t want the others to know so badly.

“Christ, this is so cringe,” Lawrence groans, dropping her head forward and resting it in her hands. Tayce can still see the pink flush that’s started to dust her face, and by now she’s convinced that this has nothing to do with A’whora and everything to do with Lawrence herself.

Lawrence mutters out something incoherent into her hands. Tayce frowns, humoured. “What?”

A huge huff comes from the girl on the sofa beside her, and as she removes her hands from the front of her face she sticks them to the side of it like blinkers on a horse. It’s the quietest Tayce has ever heard Lawrence speak as she says the secret again. “I’ve got a crush on Ellie.”

Tayce’s face lights up at her friend’s confession. “Do you actually?”

“Christ, don’t make me say it twice. I’ll get struck down.”

Tayce leans into Lawrence, uses both her hands to lightly poke her in the arm. “Look at you! Being cute and having feelings!”

“It’s not, though! It’s not cute at all! It’s just sad!” Lawrence rolls her eyes, shaking her head at the same time. “Because she doesn’t…she’ll never see me like that, and she’s too busy making cow-eyes at Tia all the time anyway, so. It’s pointless, I don’t even know why I’m even hoping for something to happen.”

“Hey, listen! How long do you think Ellie’s gonna be able to keep moaning about Tia when she’s still seeing Veronica? I mean there’s only one way that relationship is going, the only ‘end’ there is in ‘girlfriend’. So Ellie’s gonna have to get over it eventually!” Tayce says supportively, shaking Lawrence’s arm to gee her up. Lawrence bats her away, though, giving another sigh.

“Tayce, it’s not exactly like she’s gonnae suddenly realise that I’ve been here all along! Like some fuckin’ chick flick. I’ve fancied her for years,” Lawrence explains. The information knocks Tayce for six, but when she thinks about it it makes sense- the way Lawrence gently bullies her so much, the way she gravitates towards her all the time, the way she gets quiet if Ellie starts moping about Tia. Tayce had never thought about it in that light before.

Lawrence hugs her knees to her chest as she continues. “Realised I liked her the last time we were at the caravan. And obviously we were at opposite sides of the country but like…I’d still meet up with her in Summer, get the train to Dundee and have sleepovers and all that shite. And when she came into the kitchen on that first day I was so happy she was gonnae be living with us, and I am still happy, because obviously she’s my friend? But like…it’s just shite to know that she’ll never like me back.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Ellie’s type is obviously tall, dark and skinny. Which…” Lawrence gestures at herself with a deprecative laugh. “…how can I be any of that?”

“Right, for a start! Stop thinking about what you’re not and start thinking about what you are,” Tayce says firmly, gripping her hand tightly.

Lawrence rolls her eyes and fixes her with a pointed stare. “Oh, like what? I’m beautiful on the inside! I know I’m the fat funny friend, Tayce, you can spare me the bullshit.”

“Well…you’re fat, and so fucking what of it? Doesn’t mean you aren’t drop-dead-fuckin’ gorgeous. Being fat and being beautiful aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“Very easy for you to say, sat there wearing size eights. Tell that to literally any piece of media we consume. Or any of my brain cells. Even if there are only about ten of them,” Lawrence sighs, then pauses. “I do like the way I look, and I don’t want to change anything about myself. It’s just…several things make that very hard almost all of the time, and it’s tiring to feel like you’re constantly fighting a losing battle. And it’s not like I’m pinning all my self-worth on a girl liking me back, but just…it would be nice to be the one that someone has a crush on for a change, if that makes sense?”

Before Tayce can say anything to affirm how Lawrence is feeling, a movement from down the hall makes her flinch and point at Tayce accusingly. “Not a fucking word, right? Least of all to A’whora, if she knows then I might as well just tell Ellie myself and like fuck is that happening.”

Tayce nods rapidly in a promise as A’whora and Bimini emerge from the hall comedically draped in materials, like a child’s attempt at a dress made out of knitting and featherdown quilts. They all set about arranging everything to make their setup as comfy as possible, and as the film gets loaded up they get comfortable in their respective positions. Lawrence is at one end of the sofa, with Tayce in the middle and A’whora at her side, while Bimini sits on the floor with their back to the sofa because they’re quite happy sitting there with enough cushions and pillows. The big lights are turned off, the film begins, and the room is filled with the soft glow of the fairy lights and the hazy light from the movie and all Tayce can think about is A’whora, warm and soft and squashed up beside her sharing the blanket.

Tayce feels silly for being so disappointed. This was what she’d wanted- they’d talked about it. They’d addressed the fact that the kiss had happened, and now they were just…moving forward. Not making things awkward. Because obviously to A’whora, the fact it’s happened has made things awkward.

And that shouldn’t hurt Tayce as much as it does.

It’s hard to dwell on things for long, though, when she has block four flat ten’s very own Ant and Dec in her living room. Lawrence and Bimini keep her and A’whora giggling pretty much from the film’s first scene, and they all fall about screech-laughing when Bimini forces them to pause it on a shot of Liam Neeson’s hall in which there’s a horrific blob of a child’s painting on the wall that looks so cursed they just had to point it out.

It’s probably because Lawrence and Bimini are distracting her that Tayce doesn’t initially notice A’whora leaning into her at first until she’s pressed up against Tayce’s side. This isn’t anything out of the ordinary. They’ve always sat close before, but this time things feel different. This time it feels as if there’s little sparks of electricity between them, metaphorical manifestations of the anticipation Tayce feels of something she’s yearning to happen.

So when A’whora bumps her knuckles against Tayce’s, brings her hand over hers and laces their fingers together, Tayce feels as if she’s suddenly evolved into some ridiculous cartoon character; she can practically feel her eyes bulge out of their sockets in shock and she has to stop her jaw from dropping onto the floor. If her heart could comedically fly out of its chest it would. Tayce keeps her gaze steady and focused on the film, blocking out her peripheral vision and not even turning to see if A’whora’s looking at her too. Because if she is it would make everything ten times worse (better?) than it currently is, and Tayce’s head is already in a spin. They’ve held hands before. It’s not like this is different.

But it is. Before they hadn’t kissed. Before A’whora hadn’t told Tayce she wanted to sleep with her. Before all of Tayce’s feelings for her friend were cooped up into neat little boxes in her mind that were so full they were close to bursting, but now they have and now it’s After and so holding A’whora’s hand has gone from usual to extraordinary, routine to electric.

Tayce hopes A’whora can’t feel the way her pulse is racing because that’ll definitely let her know something is up.

She’s suddenly startled out of her overthinking by a tut of disapproval from Lawrence. “How many fuckin’ couples are in this film and there’s not one single lesbian?”

“Lesbians didn’t exist in 2003, remember?” Bimini deadpans, causing A’whora to giggle.

“Yeah, lesbians were invented in 2013 when Orange is the New Black aired.”

“Nah! When did Sugar Rush come out? Mind that programme on Channel 4? I remember watching that through a crack in the living room door when my parents thought I’d gone to bed,” Lawrence recounds excitedly, her enthusiasm at remembering her lesbian awakening making Tayce laugh and relate at the same time.

“For me it was Sophie and Sian. Remember on Coronation Street? They were my first lesbians.”

“At least you all got representation at some stage. If I wanted to see another pan I’d have to watch fuckin’…Kitchen Nightmares,” Bimini rolls their eyes, their joke making the girls howl with laughter and let out cries of consolation.

And then A’whora squeezes Tayce’s hand under the blanket.

Tayce thinks only for a second before squeezing it back, and subsequently doesn’t think before turning and looking at her friend beside her. A’whora shoots her a little smile that if Tayce didn’t know better she’d say was innocent, but the twinkle in her eye and the way she shuffles herself to lean closer against her and tuck her other hand into the crook of Tayce’s elbow makes her heart give a judder like she’s been crashed into from behind.

She supposes it’s only awkward if she makes things awkward, just like A’whora said. So when Tayce gently strokes A’whora’s hand with her thumb, it’s only to illustrate to A’whora that things aren’t weird between them. It’s not to see how the other girl is going to react to that at all. It’s not because being affectionate with A’whora just feels correct and perfect, the easiest thing in the world.

Tayce is holding her breath waiting for A’whora to do something else. Something to raise her hopes, something to show her that maybe she does want something to happen between them again. She wants the film to go on forever and give them infinite time in this no-man’s-land of comfortable tension, because when it ends she knows A’whora will probably just get up from under the blanket and slip away as if everything is back to normal.

When A’whora lets go of her hand, Tayce feels her hopes drop into the pit of her stomach, a rollercoaster coming to a dead stop. The ride is over.

But a second later she wraps her arm around Tayce’s waist, squeezes her close in a hug, and the ride begins all over again. Tayce’s heart rate spikes as she shifts a little, getting comfortable before bringing her arm around A’whora’s middle too and holding her right back.

It’s then that Lawrence’s voice makes Tayce snap her head away from the film, her glazed-over eyes having to focus on her friend who’s regarding her with a raised eyebrow. “Fuck’s going on under that blanket? You two fingering each other?”

Bimini snaps their head up and yells as Tayce tries to conceal the wave of panic that hits her, rolls her eyes and shakes her head and tells Lawrence that she needs to get her mind out the gutter. She’s sure that being called out will make A’whora flinch away, a woodland animal startled by a twig breaking, but she just giggles and buries her face into Tayce’s side all bashful.

God, Tayce wants to kiss her so much.

The film reaches the scene where Emma Thompson cries in her bedroom to Joni Mitchell, and the sniffing from the floor indicates she’s not the only one.

“Bimini! You said you hated this film!” Tayce laughs, nudging her friend with her foot.

“Yeah, but anyone who doesn’t cry at this scene is a hard-hearted bastard,” they reply, voice thick with emotion.

“Aww, BonBon. It’s okay, I’ve got a little tear as well,” A’whora murmurs from Tayce’s side. She huffs a sigh. “I can’t even believe anyone would fall for that pencil-skirt-wearing cow. I mean, she fucking manspreads and that’s supposed to be some sort of sexy come-on?”

“Aw, and like you could do any better?! We’ve all seen you trying to flirt, it’s embarrassing!” Lawrence cries in outrage.

Tayce is reminded of nights out earlier in the year when A’whora would talk to girls at bars and Tayce would always feel this inexplicable burn in her chest in response. She remembers the unfounded relief when A’whora would come back home to the flat with the rest of them, one-night-stand missions failed, and the churn in her stomach the times when she’d leave with a girl she didn’t know and sneak back into the flat at nine in the morning, ready to tell the others about her exploits from the night before which Tayce never wanted to hear.

She’s really fancied A’whora for a long time, now she thinks about it.

“I could so do better!” A’whora complains, and Tayce isn’t looking at her but she just knows she’s pouting.

Lawrence chuckles, tilting her head in amusement. “Go on then! What would your plan of action be, Miss fuckin’ Womaniser?”

There’s a pause before A’whora says, “Well I’d probably wait until we were both drunk on a night out, do tequila shots with them, drape myself over them, kiss them, then get them to take me back home.”

Tayce thinks she deserves an Oscar for the way she refuses to outwardly react to the way A’whora has essentially just described their kiss from that night out. Inside, however, it’s a different story. She’s not sure it’s possible for her heart to go any faster, and every cell of her body seems to buzz. She can barely hear Lawrence and Bimini laughing in response to A’whora’s comment for the way her blood’s roaring in her ears. Once the others stop paying attention and go back to watching the film, it’s only then that Tayce turns her head, raises one unimpressed eyebrow at A’whora who’s looking up at her with a scheming smirk on her face and a glint in her eye.

And right as she’s looking at her, A’whora closes her eyes and plants a kiss against Tayce’s arm then goes back to watching the movie as if nothing ever happened.

It’s at that point that Tayce feels her mouth dry up, feels something coil tight inside her and a throb between her legs. Something is going to happen the moment the pair of them are alone, she can feel it. There’s no way it can’t. In stark contrast to earlier, Tayce now wills the film to end sooner rather than later.

And it does. Finally. The credits roll, the Beach Boys are playing, and Lawrence slaps her thighs. “Well, that was a heap of shite!”

“I’ve still not forgiven Alan Rickman. God love the dead old bastard,” Bimini shrugs, heaves themself up off the floor and slides their phone out of their back pocket, scrolling busily. “Oh, Ellie’s asking if we wanna come join her an’ Anne for drinks. Apparently they’re in some boujie cocktail bar in town spending all their student loan and need responsible adults to stop them.”

“Why the hell are they asking us then?” Tayce quips, the giggle it elicits from A’whora sending a shockwave down her spine.

“I’m down to go meet them both. I’m already tipsy, might as well go the whole hog and get rat-arsed,” Lawrence says decisively, leaping up from the sofa and fixing Tayce and A’whora with an inquisitive glance. “You two coming?”

Tayce lets go of A’whora’s waist and stretches to make a point. “Nah, babe, I can’t. Got this essay due on Wednesday I’ve not started.”

Bimini snorts. “Yeah, I forgot. You’re dead on it and organised, in’t ya?”

Tayce pulls a face at them while Lawrence asks A’whora.

“Mmph. Think I need a nap before I even think about drinking any more, hun.”

Lawrence eyes them both suspiciously and appears to be about to say something else before Bimini tugs on her arm and distracts her. “C’mon then, let’s leave these two to be boring. Have fun, losers!”

Goodbyes are exchanged between them and Lawrence and Bimini finally leave, the fire door to the kitchen swinging shut and leaving the warm glow of the fairy lights, the blanket, the sofa, and A’whora gazing at her with that shit-eating smirk on her face again.

So Tayce wastes no time in bringing a hand up to her jaw, leaning down and kissing her, and judging by the way that A’whora melts into her and lets out a little happy sigh of satisfaction she’s been waiting for it just as much as Tayce has. They fall together like it’s easy, as if both of the times they’ve done this before have been all the practise they need. A’whora brings her hand to rest against Tayce’s cheek as if she’s trying to somehow pull her closer than she already is, and her neediness makes Tayce giggle against her lips. In turn it sets A’whora off, and when she pulls away their faces are still close and there’s little smiles on each of them.

“What’s so funny, you little bitch?” A’whora smirks, her barbed words cushioned by the way she’s wriggling onto Tayce’s lap and bringing her arms up to circle around her neck just like she did the first time in the club.

“Just you’re kind of giving me mixed signals here, baby. Saying you don’t want things to be awkward and then moving to me the entire film,” Tayce mutters, keeping a playful smile on her face despite the fact her words hold entirely too much truth.

It clearly takes the wind out of A’whora’s sails because she casts her gaze down, pauses before speaking and looking at Tayce from under her lashes. “I didn’t mean that, I just meant…I want us to be able to do stuff and not have it be awkward afterwards.”

Oh.

This is a game changer. So A’whora doesn’t regret anything. She doesn’t want them to go back to the way things were- well no, she does, just with an extra little bit of something more added in. She wants the friendship they have but she also clearly wants Tayce like she wants her back, and the realisation makes Tayce squeeze her thighs together, anticipation now so high she feels scared for her blood pressure.

Tayce tries not to let her realisation show on her face. Instead she looks at A’whora with interest, raises an eyebrow at her in amusement. “What’s ‘stuff’, then?”

“Well, just like…if we’re both horny and in the same flat then it saves us having to swipe Tinder for hours on end only to find a girl with a boyfriend who’s looking to ‘experiment’ and never found another girl’s clit in her life, doesn’t it?” A’whora shrugs blithely despite the blush that’s hit her cheeks, her turn of phrase making Tayce bite back a smile. “Whereas I’ve been told I’m quite good at that.”

The twinkle is back in A’whora’s eye again and the combination of that, her smirk and her words make Tayce’s stomach do a somersault. She can’t let it show, though, can’t let A’whora see her crack so she blinks to maintain her composure, tilts her head with mock-curiosity. “Have you now.”

“Yeah. Could show you if you wanted,” A’whora grins brazenly back at her, shifting a little in Tayce’s lap and sending her into orbit. “Plus I can’t remember if I put on matching underwear this morning, so…you should come help me check.”

Tayce breaks the stalemate to throw her head back in a laugh. “Jesus Christ, Lawrence was right. You actually can’t flirt to save yourself.”

She watches A’whora’s face drop into a pout and instantly feels as if she’s kicked a puppy, so Tayce brings one of her hands up to rest on top of her thigh and gives it a squeeze. “Says a lot for how fit you are that it’s still working though, doesn’t it?”

The pout cracks into a scheming smile, and Tayce matches it before A’whora leans in and kisses it off her face. It’s more heated this time, that little undercurrent of intensity as Tayce runs her tongue over A’whora’s and hears her whimper against her lips. As A’whora pushes her fingers into Tayce’s hair Tayce lets her hands drift around to the small of her back, and the way A’whora keeps shifting needily in her lap only makes Tayce want her more, which she didn’t think was even possible.

“We’ve got a free flat, you know,” A’whora mutters in between little kisses, her voice low as she whispers against her lips.

“Probably a good thing. You couldn’t be quiet if your life depended on it,” Tayce teases, running her fingers over the waistband of A’whora’s sweatpants in an attempt to try and convey how much she needs her.

“Oh, you have no idea, babe,” A’whora smirks before pulling away, ripping her top out from where it’s tucked into her waistband and tugging it off, barely even giving Tayce a chance to react. She’s left in a little black bralet with Playboy logos along a white band at the hem, and Tayce feels her mouth go dry.

She’s really, really hoping A’whora put on matching underwear this morning.

But she’s still taken aback because after all- they’re in the middle of their living room, and any of the others could walk in at any given moment- so she can’t help the way her mouth drops open and the way she lets out a little shocked giggle. “A’whora!”

“What?!” A’whora smiles smugly back at her, clearly glad she’s got the reaction she wanted.

“We’re not shagging on this couch, are you insane?! It’s rotten! Kim Woodburn would have a fit if she saw it!”

“Oh, so we are going to shag?” A’whora regards her with one cocked eyebrow, and Tayce can’t help but mirror it. There’s a pause before she gives a small huff of mock-resignation, sealing their fate.

“God. We’re really doing the whole friends with benefits cliché, then?”

A’whora smirks affectionately at her. “Only awkward if we make it awkward.”

She holds out her pinkie between them and Tayce takes it with a resigned laugh, the childish nature of their promise contrasting deeply with the whole situation.

“C’mon then, bestie, lead the way.”

And as A’whora scrambles excitedly off her lap and Tayce takes the opportunity to smack her ass playfully, she feels her heart soar and her head grow light at the thought of being able to do everything she’s been thinking about doing for over a month with one of her best friends in the world.

She wonders why everyone seems to say that a friends with benefits situation isn’t a good idea. This is already the best decision she’s made in years.

#rpdr fanfiction #rpdr uk #ortega #me and you together #taywhora #uk2 #lesbian au #british au #college au #freshers au #roommate au #tayce #a'whora #friends with benefits to lovers #lawrence chaney #ellie diamond #bimini bon boulash #tia kofi

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tammythompson-singslikea-muppet · 5 years ago

Text

Betrayal (Stan Uris x reader x Richie Tozier Reddie)

Soooo I wrote this a long time ago and put a lot of work into it but then didn’t end up being super happy about the ending and the fandom slowly dying so I never posted it. Revisiting the story and re-writing a few things I have decided to post it so ENJOY!! I couldn’t really come up with a better name if you have any suggestion I would gladly take them.

Warnings: swearing, some sexual references and mentions of sex

aged up 18/19

Bold = flashbacks

Part 2

You walked into the dinner on a slightly sunny morning in July. It had started to get warmer in Derry but since it was still early in the day the temp was barely out of the seventies. You sat down next to a familiar mop of perfect curls at the bar,

"I could kill a man for a coffee right about now."

"Is that so." The boy responded sipping his coffee from his mug. You both let out a laugh. The same waitress as always came over and immediately poured you a cup of coffee without even having to ask.

"Thanks, Josie." You picked up two packets of sugar and dumped them into your coffee along with a little bit of creamer. After taking a sip the boy looked over to you with a small smile,

"I guess I shall live another day".

"Lucky you."

A moan escaped your lips as you were pushed against the wall of the bathroom, basically swallowing each other's tounges. One hand was tangled in the beautiful mess of curls the other rests on his bicep which leads down to his hand at your hip, the other at the back of your neck. Heavy and passionate were two things someone from the outside might call it but you could only feel need. The door open and closed before a voice rang out,

"I guess you're taking the break up with Richie pretty well then?" Beverly continued over to a stall. You and Stan pulled away from each other, the Uris boy quickly making his way for the door. When he opened it he was met with an older lady and immediately apologized, squeezing his way past her. A blush very noticeable on his cheeks. She walks in and glances over to you "Wrong door" You shrugged. She shook her head knowing better and went into a stall. Beverly walked out and just laughed at you. Failing to conceal a laugh you brought a hand to your mouth. Beverly washed her hands and you both exited the bathroom and walked towards the counter. "Stan took care of it all" Josie smiled. You pulled out your wallet and handed her an extra tip anyway. She smiled and thanked you.

"Did you walk here?" You asked Beverly as you left the dinner.

"No Bill dropped me off." She motioned over to Bill sitting in his car, it seems Stan found it first and was leaning against the car talking to Bill.

"No Haystack today?"

"He's still sick," She scrunched up her nose in disgust."-But he's getting better." When you looked up at the car you could see someone sitting in the backseat. Suddenly it was like you were fighting with yourself to turn around every step that you took. Beverly looked over to you and mouthed sorry. You told them that you didn't want people taking sides, and you were glad that they didn't. But that doesn't mean it hurt any less to see someone you used to be so close with, and not even have it in you to say hello. Beverly grabbed something from the front seat before joining you by Stan, who was conversating with Bill and the boy in the back seat. You didn't even want to say his name let alone look at him so you just stared at the ground.

"Bye Bill, see ya, Eddie." You almost winced at his name. As you, Stan, and Beverly walked over to your car you could feel Stan about to apologize. He could barely get out the word 'I'm' before you pointed a finger up at him.

"I said no apologizing," he sighed and sat down in the passenger's seat," I said no picking sides, and I meant it you do not need to apologize for talking to one of your friends."

"But I feel b-,"

"I told you not to feel bad either." You looked over at him and showed him a smile. "Now be my DJ, we're going over to Mike's." Stan gladly turned on the radio as Bev in the back groaned,

"But his music taste sucks,(Y/N)!" you laughed and pulled out of the parking lot.

* * *

Mike welcomed the three of you with a smile and directed you towards the living room. Beverly walked up to Mike as you and Stan trailed behind. You could see her whispering into his ear. Being curious as to what was short-lived once Mike turned to you and Stanley.

"So what have you two been up to today besides playing tonsil hockey in public restrooms?"

"Subtle. very subtle." You glared between the pair on the couch. Stan looked around the room trying to avoid the question, and you just ignored it entirely. "How's your truck coming along?"

"Yeah did you get that part Bill said you needed?" Stan butted in. Not even looking at her you could feel Beverly rolling her eyes. Mike just laughed at your change of subject.

"Yeah, I just ordered it this morning. Hopefully, it will be the only part I have to order and I'll be driving you losers around in no time." The four of you spent most of the afternoon talking about a little party you guys are throwing for Ben over here at the farm. He had been gone the most June, out visiting family, and when he came back y'all did a welcome home movie night but he got really sick. So now it was your idea to just throw a whole dang party cuz why not, the kid deserves it. Although the only thing that really makes it a party is decorations. Seeing as it'll just be the eight of you as always goofing around.

"I think the final question is," Mike turned around to look at you. "Are you gonna be ok with Richie and Eddie here?"

You didn't want to answer this question. Everything seemed so different the last time you were all together. It was actually that same night, that Ben came home when you caught them. You haven't spoken to or even seen Richie since that night. Although you still weren't very keen on the idea of seeing them, you weren't even sure how it was all gonna go with your dramatic little ass, but you were gonna face it for Ben. And s' mores.

"I guess we'll see how it goes." Stan smiled at you, completely unconvinced that this wasn't going to turn into some sort of emotional disaster for you.

"Have you talked to him at all?" Mike asked. You looked down at your feet causing Mike to put a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"It sucks, I know. But, next to Bev respectively, you're the toughest girl I've ever met, and Richie is gonna feel like complete and udder shit for at least a month, maybe two, but that doesn't mean that you have to. We're gonna have loads of fun and you're totally gonna forget what a shitty week you've been having." A grateful smile graced your features,

"Thanks, Mikey." Mike looked over to Stan who was talking with Beverly and leaned in closer to you. "So what's going on with you and Stan?" Mike has been very speculative over what has been going on with you and Stanley. The two of you were in vulnerable states, both going through difficult breakups. Mike didn't want to see his friends in any more hurt than they already were, which made him highly skeptical of your and Stan's, a bit, lusty escapades.

The question through you off a bit. The thing is you hadn't really thought of much about what you and Stan were doing. Neither of you treated it very seriously and were just trying to find someone to dull the pain. It wasn't a very healthy coping mechanism and both you knew that, but anyway threw caution to the wind. For once in his life, Stanley felt out of his head. He wasn't overthinking anything, because it just felt good. And at the moment that's all he really wanted to feel, same as you. Neither of you ever stopped to think that maybe it felt a little too good. So instead of hashing out all the pain and misery the both you just though it easier to get a little horny. You've never actually slept together, but you don't think the rest of the losers believe that. The other day you were at Mr. Keene's store with Bill picking up a few things and he proceeded to throw a pregnancy test at you and said

"Here I-I'll call Stan and tell him thu-thu-the news" You started at him shocked for a second then threw it back at him.

"Hardy har har, you want me to track down someone who's ACTUALLY pregnant then leave the test in your mother's bathroom? Hmm, I bet that would lead to an interesting conversation now wouldn't it Mr. Denbrough." You spatted out quickly and both erupted in laughter, then Bill motioned over to Greta sitting behind the prescription pick up counter. After that, you were turning heads with all the noise and loud laughter being made.

"Umm, I don't know. It's just a bit of tension release I guess. Something easy and simple between friends." The words came out of your mouth quickly wanting to move away from the subject. That seemed to be your new hobby, avoiding subjects. You could tell that Mike wasn't trying to pry. He was just worried about the whole thing. You were gonna reassure him that everything would be fine, but for one: You didn't know that and for two: The house phone started ringing. You nodded your head towards the phone and Mike went to take of it.

"This conversation isn't over."

"Uh-huh,"

Stan walked over to you. "What's the conversation about?" Stan questioned. You sighed

"Nothing. Just about us." At that moment Stan turned his head down towards your's then immediately stopped what he was doing. The next thing that was about to happen - that Stan stopped from happening - was something that told Stan that this whole thing was gonna come back to bite him in the ass. And that maybe Mike has a point being worried about you two.

See the thing is, Stan is not a very affectionate person to someone other than who he is in a relationship with. When you are just a friend occasional hugs and a hand on a shoulder are about as touchy-feaey as Stan would get, unless it's movie night then he'll end up resting his head on someone's shoulder. If another loser was standing right beside you sensing your unease and possibly slight confusion, that Stan was sensing, it would be a totally normal Ben thing to just put a hand on your four-arm rubbing gently. And it would be a totally normal thing for Bill to lean down and press a gentle friendly kiss on the top of your head, of course not without a sly remark from Richie. 'But that's over now.' Stan thought to himself. But a thing like that, an innocent little kiss on the top of the head to comfort a friend was not a very Stanley thing to do. Yet there he stood looking slightly down, not being much over a head taller than yourself, having to stop and think to himself about what the heck he was doing. Because that was exactly what he was about to do, press a kiss to the top of your head. 'It's just an innocent kiss! That didn't even happen! Don't you dare overthink this Stan!! Don't ruin yet another good thing with stupid fucking overthinking!!' While yelling at himself in his head his gaze had never left the top of yours. Suddenly his eyes were no longer looking at your head but rather into your eyes. You had leaned your head up to notice that Stan was staring at you. 'Shit! Shit! Shit!' There goes Stan again yelling in his head.

"Whatcha thinking about Mr. Boy Scout?" In what felt like years to him, Stan finally blinked, swallowed, then answered,

"Nothing." And with that and much to Stan's luck, Mike walked back into the room.

"Was just a telemarketer- anyway what are we talking about?"

"Absolutely nothing," Beverly smirked at you and Stan. The awkward silence didn't last long when Beverly spoke again.

"Uh, I have to drop off something at Richie's"

"Count me out." The eye roll and tone in Stan's voice hurt you more then you expected. Another totally unexpected feeling was that you suddenly felt bad for Richie. He and Stan had been friends for ages. It was this exact thing that you didn't want happening when you told everybody not to pick sides. And now you are standing right next Stan listening to the disdain in his voice when Bev mentioned Richie and it almost made you feel sick. 'Girl! Get your shit together! The last person you should feel bad for is Richie fucking Tozier! You lost a best friend because of him, its only fair he looses one too!' your mind screamed at you.’ But that still didn't get rid of that feeling in the pit of your stomach.

The rest of them have been doing pretty alright with it, according to Bill, Bev has been a little snippy to them, but apologizes. Bill says he's Switzerland and honestly you're thankful for that but it must suck for him the most because of it. He tells Bev that he tries hard not to be mad at them, but he also feels like in doing so it's an injustice to you, so he really just tries to split his time with you guys down the middle. Mike is the true neutral out of them, he really doesn't like the confrontation but has admitted to wanting to punch them both in the teeth at least once. Ben says he is really upset at them and has been telling you that he's only not talking to them that much because he's sick and he hasn't been talking to anyone that much that isn't Bev. But you also once overheard Bill tell Stan that he hasn't even spoken a word to Eddie, on account of the fact that he was the one who introduced you and Richie and that just really struck a chord with him. You brought it up to him once but he faked a coughing fit to avoid it then changed the subject. He and Stan are the only two who have made an effort to avoid or not talk to Richie or Eddie, but as much as you tell them you just want everybody to get along and you don't want anyone else getting hurt you can't exactly control people.

*time skip to party*

"Eduardo, àndale, let's go!" You yell to Eddie in the car as you and Richie walk up to Bill's door. You were so excited to see Ben and were always happy to hang out with all the losers. Eddie gets out of the car as Richie opens the door,

"Billiam, the threesome have arrived!!" You and Richie walk in hand-in-hand Eddie in short distance

"Quit calling us that, Rich! It's fucking gross!!" Eddie shouted from the doorway, closing the door behind him. You walk into the living room to find Ben. Like always he's sitting next to Beverly on the couch so you venture over there

"HANDSOME HANSCOM!!! WELCOME HOME!!" He blushes at your nickname and gives you a smile.

"Thanks, (Y\N)" It felt nice to have Ben back with all of the losers. The bunch of you asked Ben questions about his trip and messed around for about an hour, before deciding to put in the movie. They all look at you and as you were leaning on Richie's shoulder.

"What?"

"The movie?" Stan questioned.

"Oh right! It's in my car I'll be right back."

You walked out to the car and sat down in the front seat grabbing the movie out of the glove compartment. You open the door to your car as Stan gets out on the other side. Standing in front of the car, preparing to go in, your breath hitches in the back of your throat as you see Eddie's car. Your mouth goes dry and you feel like you just want to crawl back into the car and drive home. Stan walks over to you and puts an arm around your shoulder. Suddenly he feels the same way, letting himself be affectionate like this. But when he looks down at you and sees the look on your face he throws all that aside. Stan squeezes you into his side rubbing his hand up and down your forearm. You take a deep breath and lean into him. Stan feels his heart flutter as he sees and can almost feel you finding comfort in him. You turn your head to look up to him. You would've felt the same flutter had your mind, heart, and stomach not be so focused on your ex-boyfriend and ex-best friend.

"It's gonna be alright. Right?" You ask, the smallness in your voice pained Stan. His nervousness was gone now, replaced with anger. Not enough to present on his face, but enough for him to hear your voice ring in his ears when he sees Eddie on Richie's lap when the two eventually get inside.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's gonna be fine. I promise." He unwraps his arm from and holds out his hand, palm up.

"You won't start shit with Richie or Eddie?" You said lacing your hand into Stan's, the pair of them dropping down to your sides as you start for the door. Stan gives you a smile and nods

"Promise."

You opened the door and entered the house again, this time with the movie. You handed it over to Bill then sat down on the couch next to Ben, on his other side was Beverly at the end of the couch. Mike sat down on the other side of you at the other end of the couch, Stan was sitting over in the recliner beside the couch on Bev's side. Eddie and Richie were on popcorn duty so they were in the kitchen. Far away enough from the loser's sight Richie wrapped his arms around Eddie's waist while he stood in front of the microwave waiting for the popcorn.

"Stop, Rich, they're gonna see us."

A muffled "No they're not," came from Richie who was now snuggling his head into Eddie's neck. Eddie looked around nervously for a second. When he saw no one present he relaxed into Richie and leaned his head up against the boy's who's was in his neck. The microwave dinged and Eddie jumped. Richie laughed and let go of Eddie getting a bowl from the cabinet,

"Scared of a microwave Eds?" Eddie dumped the popcorn into the bowl handing back to Richie,

"Take this dickwad. And don't call me Eds!" The rest of the losers heard their usual bickering as they entered back into Bill's living room. You gave a smile to Richie and he sat down on the floor at your feet. He handed Beverly the popcorn then grabbed your legs and threw them over his shoulders, leaning his head back. You laughed and your hands went to play with his beautiful, although messy curls.

"Stop! I worked really hard on these curls!" Stan smacked away your hand as Mike opened the door.

"I just can't!! I'm a sucker for the curls." You whined. Mike laughed, smiling at his friends,

"Come on Bev is trying to teach us yo-yo tricks." Stan let out a laugh. As you walk into the living room Bill is in front of the couch with one of Ben's yo-yo's failing to do a trick Bev is doing right next to him with ease.

"You'll get it someday Denbrough."

"H-h-how about you try it huh?" Bill sassed you, his eyebrows furrowed together, mouth in a pout. You couldn't help but chuckle at his frustration, which could mirror the frustration of a little boy or a toddler even. Your eyes move over to Ben and a smile grows big on your face as you pull Stan over to where Ben is patting the cushion next to him. As you sit down next to Ben your eyes wander toward the back of the room in reaction to your ears hearing laughter. You, obviously, didn't know Stan's eyes were following until you felt his person stiffen like a board 'It's gonna be alright. Right?' the look that you gave him and the tone in your voice haunting his brain, reminding himself to keep a lid on it. There they were right before you, Eddie sitting comfortably in Richie's lap, his legs hanging over the arm of the chair. Richie's arms holding him there securely. They were laughing at Bev doing funny tricks with her yo-yo behind Bill so he wouldn't see, still determined to get the trick right. You hadn't noticed you were staring until suddenly Eddie's eyes were staring right back into yours. Everyone else seemed to notice as a silence fell over the room. Mike coughed and you snapped your eyes down to the floor.

"So are we gonna play a game or something?" Stan asked, putting a hand at the small of your back rubbing lightly. Ben saw out of the corner of his eye. He saw how your shoulders dropped as your body visibly relaxed. You had noticed it yourself. Ben looked over at Beverly and when she noticed he started quickly shifting his eye back from her to you and Stan. Bev gave him an 'I told you so' look.

"Yeah, we got games in the closet who wants to play Clue?"

"Yes!!" You yelled. You and Bill high-fived.

Stan winced and rubbed his ear "Ow! That was my ear!"

When Richie finally got the guts to look over in your direction he wasn't expecting to see your hand caringly rest itself on the side of Stan's head

"Sorry" He heard you say with a soft laugh. One that he knew all too well. A little sign of embarrassment, but not too much that you would go shy. He could also hear the soft sympathy in your voice. He noticed something about it. Not that it was different. No, it wasn't different at all. That was the thing though; your tone wasn't even the slightest bit different from the way Richie remembers your voice sounding. Not when talking to anyone else, but when talking to him specifically. What he heard in your voice was what he had always heard in your voice whenever you would look at him with those eyes full of love and caring. 'But why would you have that tone in your voice talking to Stan,' Richie had wondered to himself. Then he saw Stanley's hand. Up at his ear when you had shouted, drop down to the small of your back. His eyes glued to Stanley Uris' thumb, as he rubbed it against the small of your back in a soothingly intimate way. It made an emotion surge throughout Richie. He didn't quite know what it was but he knew that he didn't like it.

You were searching around a bit for Richie, confused when you couldn't find him anywhere downstairs. When the movie had finished up Ben didn't feel so good so Beverly took him home. You had gone along for the ride to get some more drinks for the rest of you. When you got back to Bill's, Richie was nowhere to be seen. When you first walked into the house you went to the kitchen with Bill to put away the soda's grabbing one for you and Bev. Going back to the living room you noticed it was only Bev and Mike. 'Geez, where'd everybody go?' You thought to your self. You looked over your shoulder to find Bill headed your way. You turned around and noticed Stan on the stairs face scrunched in frustration on the phone. 'Poor thing' You assumed he was on the phone with Patty, the two of them haven't been along too well recently. You turn back around,

"Hey, Mike, you seen Richie or Eds?" He shook his head.

"Richie I don't know, but I thought Eddie was talking to Stan over there." You gave him a small smile and muttered thanks before you went over to Stan. You felt bad disturbing him on the phone but he seemed almost relieved to get out of the conversation. You stuck your hand between the banisters on the stairs and tapped a finger on Stan's knee.

"Hey, have you seen Richie?" You hesitantly ask Bev.

"He's over there by the stairs with Mike." She smiled reassuringly at you and put a hand on your shoulder. Richie saw you approach the two of them and put his head down expecting you to be there to talk to Mike. But when Mike walked away he looked up surprised.

"Hey, Rich." An awkward feeling settled in the air.

"Hi" a hint of optimism in his voice. Richie felt relieved that you were actually talking to him, although you weren't all too thrilled about it, you wanted to get it over with. Maybe help things get back to normal.

"Uh, thanks for letting me and Eds come to the party. I know you, Beverly and Mike planned it so, thanks." A pretty genuine smile mixed with a little unsettlement, not knowing what you were gonna do or say.

"Well they're your friends too, and the party is for Ben anyway so." Your voice was small and fragile. Richie's felt his body relax. He didn't know if it was because the sound of your voice made me feel like the worst person in the world or because he was relieved that you weren't yelling at him. He supposed it was a little bit of both.

"I'm surprised they all still talk to me." Upon hearing that, you immediately thought of what you overheard Bill say about Ben not talking to Eddie.

"I truly don't think they would have cut you off forever, I mean they were your friends before they were mine-"

"Yeah but your more likable" You chuckled and Richie smiled,

"The truth is they had talked to me about it and I told them I didn't want anyone taking sides. But still, I think only maybe, Ben and Bev would have given you a real silent treatment. I'm sorry that Stan kinda has."

"No, No you have nothing to be sorry for. It's all on me. But thank you. For asking them not to pick sides. It means a lot." The hallway fell silent again.

"I don't want you to get offended or anything, I truly don't mean anything by this,-" Richie was now being overly cautious with his words, he really didn't want to hurt you more than he already has. "I was just a little surprised when Stan cut me off as he did. You two never really seemed that close, now he's practically glued to your hip."

Richie's tone fell more toward anger as reached the end of his sentence, his mind thinking back to Stanley's hand on your back. A part of him added that in just to hear your answer. Had you already moved on? Is that why you were talking to him because you had moved on to Stan? Why did this upset him so much? When you answered with a little,

"Yeah, honestly me too." Richie felt not just his confusion grow but also his anger.

This wasn't like Stan. If Stan would have wanted to be in a relationship with you he would have told you. 'Well maybe she just doesn't want to tell you?' 'No.' He thought 'That couldn't be it, she sounds just as confused as I do. What was Stan getting at with her?' Richie was snapped back into reality when Eddie came bounding down the stairs loud as usual, shouting,

"Mike you're out of band-aids! You should put that on a list or something, do you know how infected cuts can get without the proper bandage or ointment?!" Richie laughed and smiled at Eddie.

"Do you even need a band-aid?" Beverly asked amused by Eddie's usual antics.

"Well, no but still!" Eddie saw you and froze, but when he saw that you were laughing a bit he relaxed.

He had been extremely nervous to come to the party. It would be the first time all eight of you would be hanging out since you had caught him and Richie. Not to mention it was a party for Ben, and Ben hadn't even talked to him since Beverly told him what happened. Eddie couldn't even count how many times he had asked Richie if it would just be better if they stayed home together. But every single time Richie would reassure him that everything would be fine, even though he was asking himself the same damn question. Eddie was practically shaking about seeing you again. He felt so guilty about going behind your back with Richie, but he couldn't help himself. He had spent all that time in pain thinking Richie didn't love him back, so when Richie actually told him that he was in love with him. It was all Eddie could think about. All the voices in his head telling him how selfish he was being, were tearing at him, but they were pushed aside. He was so tired of longing for Richie on the sidelines. He deserved happiness too. Eddie Kaspbrak was not proud in any way of how he got it, but the happiness he felt when being with Richie was something otherworldly to him. How could he let it go? How could he let something so precious and important to him, something he wanted for so long, slip through his fingers?

"Well hey, me and (Y\N) could g-g-go over to Muh-mister Keene's." Bill threw a wink in your direction

"I swear to god you throw one more fucking pregnancy test at me, Denbrough!"

Stan shouted, "What?" as the rest of you laughed. You had walked away as Richie's laughter died down when his mind had put two and two together. Richie then put his arm around Eddie and pressed a kiss to his head to try and calm himself down. 'I can't fucking believe he would do this to her!'

You laughed with the rest of them and sat back down next to Stan who was looking more confused by the second. You explained what happened at Mr.Keene's to him. All of you laugh even more when you bring up framing Bill for knocking someone up. Stan leaned over and whispered in your ear

"You did tell him we aren't actually sleeping with each other right?" You leaned over to his ear

"Of course I did. He just doesn't believe me." You both shake your heads laughing

"Bev and Ben didn't believe me when I told them either."

"Yeah, I don't think Mike does either, but honestly it's not like we would really believe them if it was the other way around or something." Stan laughed,

"I might believe Mike, but the others, probably not"

"And what are you two whispering about?" Bev wiggled her eyebrows.

"'Oh Stanley I love the way you cuddle up to me in the middle of the night!! You're such a good lover and such a strong man!!'" Bill squealed out in a girly voice.

"What the fuck!!" You shouted in between fits of laughter. The whole room was in hysterics as Bill threw his arms around Mike. Richie stood by the entrance of the living room with Eddie who was dying laughing. Richie, however, was faking a laugh, trying his hardest to keep his cool. He put on a smile on his face and gave a little chuckle as he told Eddie he was going to get a drink. Mike then threw his arms around Bill the same, playing along. The pair was then pretending to make out, their hands foolishly caressing each other's bodies as they made kissing noises. Stan hoped you were too busy laughing to see the intense blush across his cheeks as he laughed as well. Lucky for him you were doubled over in laughter and lucky for you as well, as you were also hiding a blush behind your laughing. "Is that really how you see us?" You laughed asked Bill before he could answer Richie's voice was heard loud across the living room.

"Hey, Stanley can we talk for a second?"

Stan looked over to you. The soft expression on your face almost seemed to calm him.

"Hey, do you know where Richie went?" You asked softly.

"I saw him go upstairs. I think."

"Thanks, Stan." You walk up the stairs wondering what the fuck Richie would be doing upstairs. Your eyes immediately go to Georgie's room. You always got a weird feeling from that room ever since he had died. Forgetting about Richie for a second you take a few steps closer to the door of the, now forever, young boy's bedroom. You reached your hand to the handle of the door when you heard a noise coming from Bill's room. You're head snapped around at the sudden noise. You took a deep breath and headed towards Bill's room.

"Why the hell are you in Bill's room, Richie?" you whispered to yourself. You opened up the door a crack deciding to peep on Richie in hopes of scaring him. You look into the room and see that Richie was with Eddie. Second, guessing whether or not you should go on with the scare, knowing Eddie will you chew your ass out for it, you heard your name in conversation,

"Hold on I think (Y\N) and Beverly are back." You looked in and saw Eddie going for the windows. Before he could reach one Richie grabbed his wrist and pulled Eddie back next to him on the bed.

"They went to go bring Ben home, they're totally not back yet just relax." You notice the soothing tone in Richie's voice. Usually, when Eddie is freaking out over nothing Richie just sounds annoyed. You've never really heard him be soft with Eddie like that. Which drew you to the conclusion that he was being soft for a reason. 'But why would Eddie be so worried about me and Bev coming back?' You watched as Richie put a hand on Eddie's shoulder. 'What the hell is going on here?' You continued to watch Richie's hand very closely as it traveled from Eddie's shoulder up to his neck with a thumb rubbing gently behind his ear. Your confusion grew more and more with every passing second. Eddie then put his hand up to Richie's. 'surely to swat him away' you instinctively thought. Only he didn't, instead, he gently held the other boy's hand. You could feel your throat begin to dry, slowly becoming hard to swallow. You watched as Richie leaned in and rested his forehead against Eddie's. Everything in you stiffened as you begged for it all to be over. For Eddie to say, 'what in the world are you doing?'. Or for Richie to playfully shove Eddie over messing around. For the whole scene in front of you to fade away like some sort of hallucination. Hell!, maybe even for someone to say 'what about (Y\N)?' at that point you would take anything. Any sort of hesitation or wavering. But your internal pleas would never be answered. Probably never even heard no matter how loud they were screaming from inside of you. You were forced to watch by eyes that couldn't pry themselves away from the scene before them, almost like they were watching for answers or confirmation of what seems now to be what has been happening behind your back for God knows how long. You felt your stomach drop, your heart, and it plummeting down together. As Richie, confident as ever, took Eddie into his arms connecting their lips together with such passion. Your eyes couldn't watch any longer. Before you even knew what you were doing, your hand had balled into a fist and slammed itself against the white bedroom door. Two loud bangs echoed through the house: The first one from your fist connecting with the door, the second from the door hitting the wall of Bill's bedroom. Leaving a large dent Bill would have to explain to his mother later. The two boys jumped from the sound. So had everybody downstairs. Their eyes wide faces drained of any color, you wouldn't be able to think they could get any paler. But when they realized who was at the door, who made that noise. It was almost like they had turned to ghosts. Eddie looked into the eyes of his best friend. He didn't think eyes could hold so much rage yet so much heartbreak at the same time. It was enough to make him nauseous. He would have bet you good money that at that moment he would vomit. At that point, you had started to cry. Richie stood frozen his face-melting from shock into guilt as he watched the tears stream down your face. As if this wasn't humiliating enough, being cheated on with your best friend, when you turned around to run, you were met with the confused faces of all your friends, except Ben of course.

"What happened?" Mike asked looking at you with sympathy.

"They're fucking!" You stated with anger and betrayal. Beverly looked at the two with anger.

"NO! No! We would never not while (Y\N) and I..." You couldn't hear the rest of what Richie was saying as you raced down the stairs to get out of there. Stan following in suit as Richie walked into Mike's room. Stan walked to the opposite side of the room as Richie closed Mike's bedroom door. Stan didn't know what Richie wanted with him, what he knew was that he did not want to be in that room with Richie, hell he didn't even want to be in that house with Richie. Stan didn't quite understand why he felt this fucking mad at Richie, all he knew was that he was this fucking mad at Richie. And with that much anger, he didn't know how to keep it in. Nor did he want to. Of course, Richie just wants to go back to being friends, he just wants his best friend back and everything to be back to normal. And that's what Stan thinks this whole thing is about. But boy was Stan unaware of the shit show that Richie was about to load on him. Stan stood against Mike's dresser, arms crossed waiting for Richie to spew some shit about, forgiveness or going back to normal, starting over. His eyes were almost already in the back of his head just thinking about it. Stan was starting to question just truly naive Richie was thinking things could just go back to nor-

"What the fuck do you think you're doing taking advantage of (Y\N) like that!"

Hold up, wait, WHAT! Stan looked at Richie like he had grown three heads, eye sharp like daggers,

"What in the actual hell are you talking about?" his voice was cold and stern. Stan could not believe what Richie had just said to him. How fucking dare Richie of all people accuse him of taking advantage of (Y\N)! Richie flailed

"I saw how she was with you, I heard what Bill said! How could you be so fucking carel-" Stan wouldn't even let Richie finish that last word.

"Don't you even fucking say it." Stan may have looked calm before, but now you could see everything in his demeanor change. Sharp, anger-filled eyes, clenched jaw, clenched fists, with tall erect posture. Richie swallowed stopping for a second. There was still nothing changing his mind on what he believed Stan to be doing.

"What is wrong with you, why would even think it's ok to just use (Y\N) for sex!?-" Stan was fueled with rage, he couldn't believe that Richie would think that. He has known Stan for years, and after all this time, this is the conclusion he makes about him. He watched as Richie shouted as he paced back and forth, spewing his mouth like a damn hypocrite, arms flying through the air and in Stan's face. Stan had just about had enough,

"Cuz, of course, it never crossed your mind for even a second that I might actually care for her!" Richie was just about out of breath with anger, small pants were in between his words as he said:

"If you really cared about her you would have left her alone not taken advantage of her while she's vulnerable." Stan didn't even need time to process that sentence before his mind had decided what would come out of his mouth. The truth. The last sentence to come out of Stan's mouth was something that Richie, the rest of the losers listening through the door, and LEAST of all Stan expected to hear. It was like something in him just snapped. The whole conversation, if you could call it that, Stan was able to keep his composure. He was never really one to yell, but something had just taken over him as he walked up to Richie,

"Oh really, you want to talk to me about caring about (Y\N), wake up and smell the roses Richie YOU FUCKING CHEATED ON HER!!! WITH HER BESTFRIEND!! YOU ARE THE REASON SHE'S IN A VULNERABLE PLACE! DON'T YOU STAND HERE AND TRY TO TELL ME THAT I DON'T CARE ABOUT HER YOU PIECE OF SHIT! I'M THE ONE THAT FUCKING LOVES HER!"

They do say it makes you crazy. That's exactly what happened with Stan, over the year and a half that Eddie introduced her to the group and Richie and her starting dating, Stanley Uris had fallen in love with her. And it had made him crazy, either he wasn't able to admit it to himself, having had both been in relationships at the time of the meeting and falling for the young lady, or he was just that stupid and blind that couldn't see he was in love with (Y\N) (Y\L\N). Stan walked over to the door, twisting the handle, looking straight ahead avoiding all eye contact with anybody, walked out the door. (Y\N) trying to catch up right behind him.

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