#wow this went a bit longer than i thought but i had a lot of ideas

[goldenstring6123]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTNXxJ8TM/

THIS IS SO CUTE PLS I CAN SO CLEARLY SEE THE LADS MEN DOING THIS 😭 and the comment section had me dying where is evb finding these MEN 😔🙏

Lnds: Sleepy time!

Warning: No warnings, afab!reader, fem!reader

Authors note: Fluff (not a lot of it) and a bit of domestic stuff.

Sylus:

It had been 30 minutes since you left the bedroom. Sylus was already well on his side of the mattress, reading the news while waiting for you to come back. He thought you were just up and about doing your normal routine of drinking herbal tea and doing skincare, but it was taking you far longer than usual.

He settled the tablet down on the nightstand and walked out of the bedroom. He searched for you in every room he passed by, and when he arrived at the guest bedroom at the end of the hall, there you were, perfectly tucked in under the unused duvet.

You were curled into a ball and too engrossed in the video you were watching; you didn't even notice the black fuzzy threads wrapping around your weird curled-up position. You lifted off from the bed, and when you came to, the view was of Sylus' back as you involuntarily made your way back to his bedroom.

"So you're not going to put me down?" you asked, paying attention to the video again. "Are manners not a thing anymore?"

The brooding man didn't spare you a glance. "I'm not open for discussion. You're supposed to sleep in my bedroom. Our bedroom."

"I just wanted a bed all to myself," you uttered. Here you were, planning what to watch and what to eat for the whole night, and this guy managed to foil it.

"I don't share the same sentiment, sweetie. You have the bed every time I'm overseas on a work trip. It's even infested with your colorful pillows," he opened the door to the bedroom and reeled you in, gesturing to your side of the bed which had vibrant pillows and bed 'pets,' as you like to refer to them.

"You really can't sleep without me, can you, Mr. Big guy? Afraid that someone's under the bed or something?"

"I'm more afraid that you're going to ravage my food pantry when you're not in my line of sight."

"The guest bedroom is nowhere near the pantry and I don't ravage it—I simply take a few snacks," you clarified. "Greg would be sad if the food spoils."

"Either way, you sleep in my bedroom or my couch, nowhere else, sweetie."

"Admit it: You like my company, don't you?" You gave him a cheeky grin.

"Yes, yes," Sylus agreed sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "You make a good meat shield when we get attacked in this bedroom."

"Oh wow. Reduced to a shield." You rolled your eyes in return and slipped under the covers. "That's Onychinus' leader for you."

"Right. Are you done now? I still have an early schedule for tomorrow."

"Alright, alright. I'm heading to bed now. You can sleep."

"Good. Now come here." Sylus opened his arms and you found yourself huddled right into it like it was the perfect mold. You shifted a bit and could feel his muscles relax against your back.

"Why did you feel the need to sleep in the guest room tonight?" Sylus asked under his breath.

"I was planning on reading comics all night. Tara recommended a new romance comic which I like, but knowing you, you'd probably take my phone away."

"Then it looks like I will be the bad guy tonight."

"Maybe. Until you fall asleep." You shrugged.

You hear the handcuffs being pulled out.

Shit.

Xavier:

3:02 AM, it says on the clock. You weren't on the bed. It was cold and it was proof that you never went on it, which was odd considering you told sleepy little Xavier that you were going to stay over. Poor little tired hunter was exhausted after a day's work and couldn't help but doze off while watching you do your little night ritual of moisturizing and doing a facemask.

Xavier sat on the side of the bed, letting out a big yawn. He didn't know where you were, but all he knew was that he didn't like being alone. From his palm, a faint whirlpool of light emanated, enough to guide him through his dark abode. His first thought was maybe you were watching in the living room. You weren't there. He then headed to the small bedroom right beside his, a spare one for guests, but it went unused when you both shared the same bed now.

He tried his best to quietly open the door. There he saw a little bump on the mattress and it made his heart squeeze; you were adorable and looked so small. Xavier tiptoed and folded the blanket away from you. He took a deep breath and lifted you up bridal style, pressing you against his chest.

"hm?…Xavier?" you slurred, vision dark and blurry.

"I'm moving you to our bedroom," he kissed the top of your head and continued his journey to the other room.

"You were sleeping," you paused, looking for the word. The drowsiness didn't seem to go away. "didn't want to…disturb you."

Xavier wanted to say something, but he and you both arrived at the side of the bed. He gently laid you down and placed a pillow between your limbs, which you automatically hugged. Xavier crawled to his side of the bed and yanked the cover over the both of you. Though you both weren't exactly touching, the little hunter's heart eased at your presence.

Gladly, he went back to sleep, hoping to maybe see you in his dreams.

Zayne:

Zayne's house was far too quiet when he arrived. It was only 7 o'clock, and by then you'd usually be in the kitchen, peeking your head out with a ladle in hand. There was no "welcome back" nor a simple "hello," but what did he expect? You were mad at him.

It's a shallow fight, really. Zayne decided to put you on alcohol time-out and took your hidden beers that you were so ready to drink after a grueling day at work. Zayne's judgment was far better than yours because when you get drunk beyond mental capacity, you tend to make a mess of the house, and you turn into a rage-filled, feisty lady. Moreover, you'd been chain-drinking for the whole week, and Zayne was getting concerned because you kept having hangovers.

His hands twisted on the knob to the little library of his house, where he would always find you on nights like these. There you were, curled in the lazy boy sofa and turned away from him. You were awake, but you didn't want to look at your lover.

"I'm home," Zayne declared.

"Dinner's in the fridge. Heat it up," you responded and closed your eyes. Zayne's footsteps grew closer and closer to you, and you felt his palm land on your shoulder.

"Your back will hurt if you sleep in that position."

The sofa might look soft and admittedly it's pretty comfortable to sit on for a long period of time, but with the curled-up position you have, it was bound to hurt when you fall asleep.

"I'm perfectly fine," you replied.

"Don't be stubborn." Zayne decided to pick you up. You wanted to thrash and get out of his grasp, but then you would look childish.

"I don't want to be with you tonight."

Zayne kept his lips in a thin line. He's more than aware that you're saying that because you're mad, but still—It hurts to hear it from you.

Gently, Zayne settled you in the middle of the bed. "I'll sleep in the living room. Stay here," he whispered and tucked the blanket over your shoulders. It was dark in the bedroom, so you couldn't exactly see him. You rolled over to face away from your lover and patiently waited for him to leave.

1:34 AM. You couldn't sleep. A can of beer would do you some good, but your tongue wasn't craving the bitterness of it. Instead, your mind looped over to a few hours ago when you said something that you didn't mean. It was harsh now that you think about it.

Now Zayne is keeping his distance from you. The owner of the house is sleeping on the couch.

With two pillows and a blanket in hand, you made your way down the flight of mahogany stairs. The living room was in full view, and Zayne was fast asleep on the couch. You nudged the two ottomans to the space between the coffee table and the main sofa. Then you threw the pillows and spread the blanket wide, letting it flutter down while you made yourself fit on the ottoman chairs.

You left a few spaces between you and Zayne, one that was filled by the cold pillow.

2:46 AM. Zayne stirred awake and found a blanket draped over his body. Beside him was his supposedly angry lover, clutching the hem of his shirt. He stared up into the chandelier above and took the pillow that was bordering between them, used it as his own, and pulled you closer, nudging the blanket over both of you even more.

Rafayel:

He's standing by the doorway, tapping his foot while a plushie was tucked under his armpit. He was frowning, and you could even see it through the dark.

"What?" you asked, shining the phone his way.

"So you're going to leave me alone tonight? Is that how you're going to play?" He was mad-mad, but that's why you were confused.

"Hey, drama king���you were complaining earlier in the day about my bad sleeping habits—I'm giving you the bed now so you can be at ease, but now you're mad at me again. Do you want me to sleep on the floor of your bedroom or something?"

"Duh? Of course not. I'm just complaining because it's true, but I never said you should sleep in the guest room."

"Then are you going to be alright with my sleeping habits?"

"No."

"Then sleep alone."

An audible gasp could be seen on the expression of the Lemurian. He looked so offended with the end of the conversation, but you weren't having it, so you plopped back onto the bed and hid under the covers, hoping that he'd go away.

The moment you peeked back out, you were rapidly crushed under heavy weight, making you sink to the bottom of the bed. Rafayel lay spread out on top of you, keeping you in your position and crushing you underneath him.

"Get off me! You're heavy!" You struggled underneath the blanket, nudging him and kicking him, but he pretended to be a dead body floating in the water. Rafayel kept still; if verbal convincing won't work, then he'll have to make you change your mind.

"Fine! Fine! I'll sleep with you!" you screamed. He rolled to the side, propped his elbows up, and rested his head on his palm. You just wanted to rub that triumphant grin off his face. He happily scooted underneath the blankets and hogged your side of the bed, wrapping his hand around you and shutting his eyes.

You didn't want to make a big deal of it further and decided to head to bed as well.

You were stirred awake by a strain in your neck. The lids of your eyes lifted at the electrifying pain that traveled to your head. You squinted, barely able to process the faint blue outside the window. Your body was spread out again, and nearby you could see Rafayel making use of the awkward space he was left with.

Guilt washed over your tired body.

Without much thought left, you held onto two pillows and let your body slip down to the carpeted floor. You hugged the pillow and placed another one under your head, liking the furry texture that brushed the side of your bare arms and legs. You closed your eyes again and let the tiredness wash over you.

It was cold for a summer morning. A large yawn escaped your lips and you patiently waited for your eyes to focus, and when they did, your eyes widened immediately at the beautiful sight of a sleeping Lemurian. Rafayel, too, was now on the floor, using his own arm as a pillow.

You tapped on his shoulder, and he just pulled you down back to the floor. "Five more minutes," he groaned, burying his face in your collar. Luckily, it was a Saturday, and you didn't have to go to work. You could indulge him in the meantime.

Author's footnotes: lol the tiktok was very cute, something that you'd see in a rom-com enemies to lovers sort of romance story. It would be a pretty redundant snippet if every situation is the same for the love interest so I took the liberty of changing things a bit.

Layout by me, using Canva Premium | Do not repost

[theemporium]

Hi!!! First of all, congrats on hitting 10k!!! That is such a huge accomplishment and I can’t think of a more deserving blog!!!

For the cocktail celebration (which is such a cute idea omg!!!) could I possibly get 🩷 “The fastest way to shut me up is to kiss me.” with poly!TrevorJack x reader!!! (Or just Trevor if you don’t write poly!TrevorJack anymore, I’m just lowkey obsessed with that smut blurb you did with them haha but no worries if not!!!!) Congrats again Cece!!!!

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

23. “The fastest way to shut me up is to kiss me.” 

.

One of the perks of being best friends with the Hughes family was the access to the lakehouse during the summer.

And every summer, you could guarantee one thing for certain—where Jack and Trevor went, the other always followed. 

It was the same every year without a shadow of a doubt. They were always attached to the hip, always pressed up against each other on the couch or sat next to each other on the boat. Jack was always Trevor’s partner in beer pong and Jack always chose Trevor first when they played a friendly tournament of volleyball. 

Even despite the number of friends in the house, they always shared Jack’s room on the second floor at the end of the corridor. Every single year. 

You never once thought anyone could come between them, let alone for them to want someone between them.

Let alone for that person to be you. 

It was somewhere in the third week at the lakehouse when it all happened. The lot of you had decided to have a BBQ, Quinn putting himself in charge of the grill whilst everyone else helped out here and there before you all settled around the fireplace. There was a crate of beers shared amongst you all, someone playing music from a speaker that appeared out of nowhere and Cole and Alex arguing over whether the fire needed more wood or not. 

Ultimately, Quinn told them both to sit down and stop poking the fire with a large stick. 

One by one, everyone trinkled back into the house when the tipsiness began to wear off and the exhaustion started to hit. But you were still buzzed and happy and far too awake for your own good. You were content staying out a little longer, finishing the last dregs of your beer before heading back upstairs. 

You hadn’t even realised you had been left alone with Trevor and Jack until they both shuffled closer to you, one on either side and both bright eyed and cheeks flushed. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you look really pretty in the firelight?” Trevor asked, all smiley and giggly as he tilted his head towards you. “Because you do. Like, you really do.”

You snorted. “How drunk are you, Zegras?”

“Drunk enough to know I’m right,” he answered with a confident nod of his head.

Jack giggled. “He is right, though.”

You rolled your eyes, telling yourself that your face felt hot because of the fire and not the compliments they were throwing at you. “You’re both talking out of your asses right now,” you laughed off. “I should have known better than to think you two yappers wouldn’t be as talkative when you are drunk.” 

“You know,” Trevor started, flashing you a mischievous smile. “The fastest way to shut me up is to kiss me.” 

Your mouth went dry at his words as you stared at him, a bit helplessly. 

“It’s true,” Jack spoke up, the warmth of his body settling behind you as he hooked his chin on your shoulder. His breath was warm and ticklish against your cheek as he spoke, as he looked between you and Trevor. “And he’s a pretty damn good kisser if I do say so myself.” 

Trevor grinned. “Thanks, babe.”

“I—” You started but words were difficult to find. “What?” 

“Wow, don’t even need to kiss you to shut you up,” Trevor joked before jokingly pouting. “A shame. It’s kinda all we’ve been wanting to do all summer.” 

“That’s also true,” Jack hummed, his nose lightly nudging your cheek. “We’ve just been waiting to get you alone.” 

“You’re both drunk,” you breathed out, fighting the urge to tear your eyes away from Trevor’s heated gaze. 

“We’re drunk, not liars,” Trevor retorted. “We know what we want. We want you.” 

You blinked. “Both of you?” 

Trevor’s smile widened. “Two for the price of one.”

“I…I think this is a very weird alcohol-induced dream,” you murmured out, feeling Jack shake with laughter behind you. 

“Why don’t you kiss him and find out?” Jack mused and you could hear the smirk in his voice. 

You gulped. “What about—”

“We don’t kiss and tell, baby,” Trevor assured you, seeming far too relaxed about the whole situation. “It’s just you and us here right now.” 

“No one but us,” Jack hummed. “But we have one rule.”

“What’s that?”

“You kiss him then you kiss me,” Jack grinned. “Can’t be making me jealous, babe.”

.

[mphoenix-7]

Bitter Allies [Soap x Reader]

Chapter 13: The Cabin: Day 5 (pt. 4)

Summary: Soap takes you to a special place he’s found during your five days at the Cabin. You sit, eat, and talk about your pasts a little bit. Soap opens up more than you expect, and you share some stuff about your past too.

Word Count: 6,511

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, swearing, strong language, mentions of death, slightly descriptive mentions of death, car accident, trauma, sweet moments

A/N: Time for a little bonding between you and Soap. More to follow ☺️😉 Also, a Taglist has been added! Please comment on if you’d like to be added to it! Thanks for reading 🫶🏻

Masterlist | <- Previous | Next ->

Bitter Allies • Part 13

The place Soap had in mind for lunch turned out to be absolutely beautiful. A small clearing opened up before you, with a crystal-clear stream winding through it. In one spot, the water pooled gently, forming a small, serene pond. Reeds and wildflowers grew in abundance around the water’s edge, their vibrant colors adding a touch of whimsy to the scene. Only a few trees dotted the clearing, allowing plenty of sunlight to stream through, casting a warm and inviting glow over the area.

The second you walk to the spot, you have to stop to really take it all in. As cliche as it sounded, the spot really was breathing taking. It makes you sad to think that it’s been here the whole time, and you’re just now finding out about this spot on day five.

“Wow…” You breathe, Soap stopping a few steps ahead of you to wait for you to finish taking it all in. “It’s so pretty. How on earth did find this place?” You ask, eyes still trained on the scene ahead as you resume your walking.

“It was the first day we got here. After our big blow up at each other, I went exploring to cool off and just happened to stumble upon it by chance.” He answers. “Come on, the best spot to sit is over here.”

You let him take the lead again, noticing the path you were following looked like it had been walked on before. A lot of the tall grasses and other shrubs were in disarray or broken.

It wouldn’t surprise you if Soap had frequented this place throughout the five days you’ve been here. There were a lot of opportunities for him to get angry and want to storm off somewhere to cool down. This was quite the place to cool down too. You wouldn’t blame him for wanting to come here.

The path Soap was following lead right up the stream. Once you’re right next to him at the edge of the water, Soap glances over at you. “We can cross here. Just be careful cause these rocks can get a little slippery. Especially that speckled one.”

“What? Why are we crossing? Can’t we just stay on this side?” You question him, looking back to the gentle stream. Although it’s not particularly wide or deep, you’d need to take a couple of steps through the water to get across. You notice a few rocks scattered across the stream that could serve as stepping stones, but the prospect of crossing seemed unnecessary.

Soap shrugs a bit. “I mean we could, but there’s a clearing that’s just tall grass right by the water on the other side.” He points out the space he was talking about. “It’s a nice spot. Just trust me.”

You hum softly in thought, debating on if it’s worth the risk of falling in. It wasn’t like the stream would sweep you away or you’d drown—it’d just make for a cold, soggy walk back to the cabin. Even then, it was quite warm out today, so there was a good chance you wouldn’t even be that cold.

You go back and forth in your mind for a little longer before just giving in and agreeing. “Alright.” You sigh. “Better be super worth it, cause I’m risking falling in for it.”

Soap huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “States, if a big muscular guy like me can cross without falling in, I’m sure someone as slim and nimble as you can make it without a problem.

You gasp and dramatically slap a hand over your chest. “Wow, slim and nimble? I think that’s the closest thing to a compliment you’ve ever given me.” You tease, making Soap roll his eyes.

“I’ve complimented you plenty of times.” He grumbles as he turns to face the stream. He begins to cross the stream, his step placement confident looking. You can tell that he’s done this a few times now. Either that or the rocks were that slippery.

“Saying shit like, ‘you didn’t suck as much today’ does not count.” You call after him, watching as he shifts his weight so that he’s standing on two rocks.

He looks back at you, his brows pinched slightly and an indignant look on his face. “That totally counts.” He insists.

“That’s a back handed compliment at best.” You argue back, folding your arms over your chest as you watch him.

He raises a brow at you, almost mockingly. “Still a compliment though. And besides, that’s how all of us compliment each other.”

You can’t deny that. The 141 boys did have a habit of tossing around quips more than actual praise. Gaz was the exception. He didn’t do it as often, but even he had his moments. Still, you’ve received genuine compliments from Price when it was just the two of you, and Gaz gave them to you quite a bit. Ghost hardly ever did, but that was just Ghost.

“I’ve gotten real compliments from the others before.” You counter, finally stepping forward to place your foot on the first rock.

“Even Ghost?” Soap retorts, holding out his hand to help you balance while you get your footing. You take it, wobbling a bit until you get your other foot placed. Once you have your balance, you let go of Soap’s hand.

“Ghost doesn’t count. You’d be lucky if he insulted you.”

“Alright, I’ll give you that.” Soap laughs a little bit, easily stepping across the remaining stones and getting to the other side without a problem. He didn’t even so much as wobble.

You follow after him, holding out your arms to the side a bit to help you balance. You managed to get across though without falling in. It wasn’t that difficult to cross; the rocks were flat enough and they really weren’t too wet. The second your feet hit the grass on the other side, Soap is giving you a slow clap.

“Good job. You crossed and didn’t fall in. Gold star. How’s that for a compliment?” He teases, getting an eye roll.

“Oh fuck off.” You groan, giving him a shove. Soap laughs as you push him away, his arms coming up to shield himself as he stumbles a little away from you. “Just go back to not complimenting me. I think it was better that way.”

“If you insist.” He laughs. “Just remember that you told me that the next time you start whining about how I never say anything nice.”

Soap starts to lead the way once more, walking you over to the spot he’d been so insistent on going to. True to his word, it’s right by the water, nestled on a tiny mound that offers a perfect view of the stream below. A small waterfall that feeds into the pond adds a soothing backdrop of sound. The tall grass around the area is flattened, clear evidence that Soap has visited this place at least once before.

When you get there, Soap steps into the center of where all the grass is flattened and begins to stomp a little more down more around the edges to make room for you to sit. Once he’s done, he steps over to one side and motions for you to get comfortable in the spot he’s just made.

“There we go. Have a seat.” He says, dropping the backpack from his shoulders and setting it down in the grass before sitting himself.

You sit down slowly, surprised by how soft the grass feels beneath you. Being so close to the water, it’s lush and cool, not dried out or prickly like you’d expected. You could honestly take a nap here.

“I still can’t get over how beautiful it is out here. So different from base and deployments.” You say once you’re settled in.

The military base you were currently stationed at, like most others, was dominated by neutral tones and dark green colors. It was a familiar sight—most bases you’d been to had a similar aesthetic. The ones in America were mostly concrete and equipment, with gray dominating the landscape. The base you're at now does have patches of grass, but they’re poorly maintained, with dirt paths worn into them from the constant foot traffic of soldiers.

Then of course when it came to your deployments, half the time you went to places where it was mostly desert. If you did go to a place with a lot of natural greenery, then it was normally so war torn, with uprooted trees, tank tracks, and pits that people dug or ones created by frags, that it wasn’t very enjoyable. The other scenario was you were in a beautiful place but couldn’t enjoy it because you were being shot at.

This was a rare treat. The sounds of nature, no war in sight, no needing to be on high alert for snipers. Just time to sit back and enjoy the beauty of the world you hardly got to see. Even if at first this unscheduled vacation seemed like a death sentence, you were learning to enjoy it. At the very least, you could take back snippets of moments like this.

“Yeah,” Soap hums softly from where he’s seated. “It reminds me a little of Scotland.”

You glance over at him, taking notice of the faint smile on his face as he looks around at the little grassy meadow. He was thinking about his motherland. His home. There’s a longing in his eyes that you’d have to be blind to miss.

“How so?” You venture, wanting to hear more about where he came from. You were sure that Soap, ever the proud Scotsman, would have no problem gushing about Scotland. And you were right. The second the question leaves your lips, he seems to light up.

“All this lush, rolling grass, the gentle breeze, the fresh air, and the sound of the stream—it reminds me of the Highlands and the woods by my childhood home. We lived right outside of town, and our house sat on a hill, giving us the best view of the open land. Behind us, there were miles and miles of woods, covered in moss, with a stream running through it. It was bigger than this one, but the feel of it… it’s the same.”

He pauses, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he continues. “I spent so much time out there when I was a wee laddie. From sunup to sundown, I was always outside. My friends and I would climb trees, play all sorts of game, build forts. In the stream, we would stack rocks to build dams and splash around when it was warm.”

You laugh softly, smiling at the thought of a young, rowdy John MacTavish playing in the woods. It was something you could easily picture. “No wonder you’re so knowledgeable about bears and stuff.”

Soap shrugs a little bit. “We don’t have bears in Scotland. The most dangerous animals out where I was were boars and red deer. I learned all that stuff about bears when I was deployed in Russia.”

“Well regardless, it sounds like you were quite the forest dweller as a child.”

Soap laughs, the sound warm and genuine. “Aye, I was. I went to the woods for everything. My favorite spot was that stream though. I’d go out there by myself and sit by the water, letting it wash away whatever was on my mind. It was always my go to place when I was sad, angry, or just needing to clear my head. It always made me feel better.”

Soap pauses a moment, a little huff of a laugh leaving him as he recalls some story on his mind. “Like the time I first learned I’d no longer be an only child. When my mum and dad told me I was gonna have a little sister, I was so pissed. Took off right out the back door and spent hours out there.”

You laugh softly, but your eyebrows are raised in surprise. “I didn’t know you had a sister.”

His files made no mention of his family, though you suppose they wouldn’t have anyway. Information like that was kept almost as secure as launch codes. Still, you always pictured Soap as an only child.

“Yeah, fucking three of them.” He huffs, which surprises you even further. “Eilidh (AY-lee), Rowan, and Kirsten.”

“Damn, MacTavish. I never would have pictured you growing up with three girls.” You smirk, and he returns it, amused himself.

“That’s exactly what Gaz said too.” Soap muses, leaning back a little now and stretching his legs out in front of him. A much more relaxed posture. “So what about you, Stateside? You have any siblings growing up?”

A smile tugs at your lips as the faces of your brother and sister flash through your mind. “An older brother and a younger sister. My brother was adopted from South Korea, and his name is Kim and my sister’s name is Rozlin.”

It was Soap’s turn to be surprised now. “Huh, I always pictured you as the youngest, not a middle child.”

“And why is that?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“I can’t say cause we said we’d be nice to each other.” He’s dodging the question, but he still answered your question without answering it.

“That’s such an older brother thing to say.”

Soap chuckles softly at your response, and the conversation pauses for a moment. There’s a few beats of silence, Soap seeming to be lost in his thoughts. He gazes back to you shortly though, changing the topic.

“You miss America and being home with them? It’s gotta hard being in a completely different country than the rest of your family.”

You hum softly, a slight frown on your face. It has been a while since you’ve seen your siblings— about a year now. You were sadly used to not seeing much of them anymore now though. Being in the military for a few years now, you didn’t get to be home often with them. You only really saw them on holidays or through FaceTime calls. The last time you’d seen them was through such a call before you’d transferred overseas. The last time in person had been for a sadder event you didn’t want to currently think about.

“Yeah…” You trail off, trying to find a way to explain your feelings to Soap’s question.

Soap frowns as you trail off, his expression going from light and playful to a touch more serious. “You don’t miss home?” He asks hesitantly.

“No,” you shake your head. “I do. I mean, America is my home, and I will always love my siblings. But this life changes you. I can never go back to being a civilian, and it’s like the life I had in America before the military is one I will never have again.”

Soap hums softly, his brows slightly furrowed as he listens. “I get it. A bit of a love-hate relationship.”

“Exactly.” You sigh, a slightly sad smile on your face. “It’s hard to get us all together anyway. Kim also joined the forces, I’m in special-ops now, and last I knew, Rozlin is thinking of joining too.”

“Wow, quite the military family.” Soap chuckles. “Your parents must be proud.”

There it was. The moment those words leave Soap’s lips, a sharp pang of loss hits you, squeezing your heart. You smile sadly at the thought of your parents, trying to push the emotions down. “They were.” You nod, trying to keep it short, but Soap’s curiosity was piqued.

“Were?” He asks slowly, making you sign. Gently, you start to pick at the blades of grass around you, trying to get the words out.

“My… My parents died like a year ago. I guess closer to a year and a half now.” You bite the inside of your cheek, continuing to pick at the grass, but also watching out of the corner of your eye as Soap sits up more.

“Oh God… States, I’m so sorry to hear that.” He says, frowning at you.

“It’s fine. Really. I mean, I’ve have time to process it.” You try to give him a smile to let him know you really were alright, but your eyes still held the sadness of losing someone you love.

The news of their death had been a complete shock to you. Your Sergeant at the time had called you into his office in the middle of a drill one morning to break the news to you. It didn’t sink in right away. You’d denied their death the entire flight back to your hometown. It was only when you entered the funeral hall, and your sister came running to you, her body trembling with sobs as she buried her face in your shoulder, that the weight of the loss finally hit you.

That was the last time you’d been under the same roof with both of your siblings. It was the last time you’d been to your childhood hometown. The last time you’d stepped foot in your childhood home.

“Can I asked what happened?” Soap asks softly, breaking you away from your thoughts.

“Car accident. Drunk driver. Going too fast and hit them head on.” You pick at a few more blades of grass, trying your hardest to fight back tears. God how much you still resented that other driver. The one who got to live.

Soap sighs, looking down and not saying anything for a moment as he takes in what you’ve just told him. “That’s horrible.” He finally says after a moment. “I… I know what’s it like. My uh… my mum also died in a car accident when I was young.” He says slowly, and you instantly look over at him.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through something like that.” You say gently, resting a hand on his knee. You can feel your heart breaking for him. “How did… what happened?” You ask gently, not wanting to dig too much if it was a hard topic for him.

“Don’t really know.” Soap says, looking down at your hand on his knee. “She went out for something in the next town over and never came back. The next morning, they found her car had swerved off road and smashed into a tree. She wasn’t speeding, she didn’t do drugs, wasn’t drinking. Probably alive after she hit the tree and bled out…”

He clears his throat, his eyes instantly becoming glossy. Growling a little, he sniffs and wipes at one of his eyes. “Still not over it.” He chuckles, trying to hide his hurt. “That day changed everything for me. My mum was the kindest and most incredible woman...”

He trails off again, his voice wavering near the end. He was clearly struggling. You give his knee a reassuring squeeze, but he doesn’t look back at you. He keeps his focus trained on the ground.

“Could you tell me about her?” You ask softly. A small smile flickers on Soap’s face, just barely noticeable. He pauses for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, then nods slowly. You can see him steady himself before he starts to speak.

“She was the most loving, understanding person you could ever meet,” Soap begins, his voice softening. “It’s hard to put into words who she was, but everything about her just… beautiful.” His eyes grow distant as he speaks, gaze drifting toward the stream once more. He’s caught up in some kind of memory, one you don’t wish to interrupt.

A moment later, he shifts his gaze back to you. “You remember that story I told you earlier? About how I ran into the woods when I found out I was getting a sister?”

You nod.

“Well, it was my mum who came and found me afterwards. She always knew exactly what to do to make me feel better. I remember she brought me some shorties, which were my absolute favorite. They still are, I love those things.” Soap chuckles softly before continuing with his story.

“We didn’t talk right away. She just sat with me, and we listened to the water together. Just the two of us. It’s funny, I don’t remember exactly what we talked about, but I remember we talked until the sun went down. And when we got home, she tucked in and told me, ‘John, no matter what, you’ll always be my boy. You’ll always have a place in this family, and no one can take that from you.’ She told me that having a sister wouldn’t change that, and that being a big brother meant having someone who’d look up to me, someone I could protect.”

His voice softens as he adds, “She taught me that love wasn’t something that got divided—it just grew. That stuck with me. Made me feel better about everything. Like I wasn’t losing anything but gaining something special.

Whenever I think about home, my home before my dad met Annette and remarried, or when I see something like this stream, I think of her. I’d give anything to sit and talk with her by the stream at home again. Just one more time.”

When he finishes, you’re left utterly speechless. His recollection about his mother is so touching, so sweet, and so heartfelt—nothing like the Soap you knew. You’ve never seen this side of him before, not even around the other members of the 141.

Your heart aches for him, the pain in his words is palpable, and you can see it in his eyes as he gazes longingly at the flowing water. You never imagined that you and Soap would share such a traumatic loss. In a strange way, it makes you feel closer to him. You’re touched that he would share something so personal with you. Something that made him vulnerable.

Without you even realizing it, a single tear slides down your cheek. You only notice it when Soap brushes it away. His touch pulls you back to the present, and you focus on his eyes, which hold tears of their own. He doesn’t say anything, his eyes expressing an understand.

His thumb lingers on your cheek for just a second longer, his touch gentle. When he finally pulls his hand back, the corners of his mouth twitch into a small, bittersweet smile. The silence between you feels heavy, but not uncomfortable—more like a shared space where words aren’t necessary.

You take a deep breath, looking back to the stream, able to image John and his mother sitting there. “Your mother sounds like she was a real treasure.” You feel like your words aren’t enough. There’s nothing you can say to tell Soap how saddened you are by hearing about the loss of this mother. How great she sounded.

It’s enough to bring a smile to Soap’s face though. The longing is still in his eyes, but you know it’s a look that will never fully go away. But there’s also something else there too—a glimmer of happiness. Pride that you think his mother is just an incredible as the way he’s described her.

“I’m sure your parents were just as loving and incredible as my mum was.” Soap says softly. “They raised one hell of daughter.”

His words hit you hard, much harder than you expected. You’re brought to tears once more, watching them quickly well up in your line of sight, and you need to bite your cheek to keep from breaking down. Soap’s words touched your heart. You can’t be more grateful for them, but are unable to express the true extent of their impact. All you can manage to a nod and choked out, “thank you…”

Soap’s smile is gentle, understanding. He reaches for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You squeeze back just as tightly, silently supporting each other as you listen to the slow rush of water from the stream.

Soap holds your hand the entire time you look out to the water together. A pleasant silence falls between you, but Soap eventually breaks it, letting go of your hand as he does.

“We should eat, huh?” He chuckles, his tone a tough lighter now. You’re almost relieved though to move on to something else. There was only so much you could take talking about death.

“Yeah, yeah, we should.” You agree, watching as Soap turns to grab the backpack. He unzips and starts to rifle through its contents. “What’s on the menu for today?” You ask, trying to peak over into the bag to see what he’s grabbed.

“Today, we have a fine selection of…” He pulls out two MREs. “Homestyle vegetables in sauce with noodles and chicken and homestyle vegetables in sauce with noodles and chicken.” He lists, pausing between pulling each one out and holding them up for you to see.

You make a face, wanting to gag at what was probably the most unappetizing MRE there is. To be fair, it wasn’t horrible. If you were in a pinch, starving out in the middle of nowhere, freezing while you huddled under a tent in the middle of a downpour, or had eaten the same thing for a week straight, it would taste incredible. But currently, not starving, dry, and having eaten nothing but bland foods for the past five days, it sounded horrible.

“We didn’t have anything else?” You ask, wondering why he’d grabbed what he most likely also thought was the most bland and boring MRE kit there was.

Soap gives you a small shrug. “We’ve gone through every other MRE except this one. We’ve got one beef ravioli and one jalapeño beef patty left, but those were the last of the decent ones. I thought we might want to save them for tomorrow, so we don’t have to eat this mush for the rest of our time here.” He explains, handing the unappealing, brown packaged meal over to you.

You scowl down at it. “I think I’d almost rather starve than eat this.” You admit, turning the package over and inspecting it in disdain.

“It’s better when you have hot sauce you can put on it.” Soap says, already tearing open his kit and dumping the contents out.

You reluctantly open yours, but not before giving him a look. “Hot sauce in what is essentially chicken noodle soup? That sounds disgusting.”

Soap shrugs. “It gives it something interesting besides just blandness.” He says matter-o-factly, pausing in tearing open his food to dig back through the backpack. He comes up with your canteens and hands you yours. You can heat up your food with it and make the broth.

“I’ll keep that it mind.” You really have no intention of trying the weird mixtures he’s suggesting though. Hopefully, though unrealistically, you’d never have to eat this MRE again.

Resigning yourself to the unappetizing lunch in front of you, you tear open the MRE with a resigned sigh, already dreading the bland taste you know is coming. As you work on opening the package and sorting all the different packets, you glance back at Soap. “So, when did you join the force?” you ask, genuinely interested in learning more about Soap’s past, but also eager for the distraction from the meal.

“I joined when I was eighteen. Tried to enlist before then by lying about my age, but they figured it out and rejected my application.” Soap says, which makes you giggle. It sounded like something he would do.

“Excited about joining I see.” You muse, watching as Soap carefully pours water into the heating pouch and slides the meal packet inside. He props it against the backpack to let it heat up.

“Yeah… something like that.” He mutters, his tone seeming to shift just the slightest bit. It was enough to make you pause, but he continues on. “But I got in at eighteen. I was selected for the 22nd Regiment.”

You nod a little bit, deciding to brush off his brief shift in tone for now. “So what did you do in the 22nd?” You ask, filling your own heating pouch to get your food warm. All you really knew about the 22nd Regiment was that it some British infantry group.

“I was a part of an elite squadron that specialized in stuff like covert reconnaissance, counter-terrorism, and hostage rescues.” He explains, watching as you filled the bag up and prep it. Once it’s ready, he motions for you to give it to him, and he sets it up against the backpack next to his. “I did eight years there and then when I was twenty-six, I was doing training in Hereford, and Price was the evaluator. He saw a lot of potential in me or something, pushed me in my training, and when selection came, I passed. Was in the SAS after that. Youngest candidate to ever pass selection.”

You knew that about him already. It’d been in his file. You remember reading his file on the plane ride over to their base and being so impressed. He hadn’t just scraped by either, he got the highest marks possible on each phase of the test.

“I remember reading that in your file on the flight over.” You smile. “Made it all the more intimidating to join the team. Had one guy who was youngest to join the SAS, one whose entire file was reacted due to the work he did, a highly decorated Sergeant, and a seasoned Captain.”

Soap laughs softly at that. “Yeah, still didn’t keep you away, though.” Soap teases, earning himself an eye roll and a gentle shove.

It makes him laugh even more, and it’s strange to hear him joke about something like that for once. Normally when he made comments about stuff like wanting you to leave or wishing you hadn’t joined, he meant it. This time he seemed like he was joking. There was no hidden edge to his words.

“I had to sign the contract before they let me read up about you guys.” You joke back, playing along. Though that was true, you really did have to sign a contract first. You weren’t allow much information about the team unless you agreed to go. The only thing they really informed you about was the basic role of the position you’d be taking.

“We got your file the second you signed up.” Soap says, checking on his food by touching the back of his hand to the bag. His food must have been warm enough cause he starts to take it out of the heating pack. “Didn’t even really know we were getting another person until Price dropped it all in front of us at a meeting. Had only a few days to get ready for you.”

That was new information to you. You figured the guys would have known they were getting someone new long before you signed on. At the same time though, it made sense. It was safer to keep information like that between only a few people, and with the enemies you knew your current Task Force has made over the years, it was probably good not to have word get out they were growing the team.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when you notice Soap is handing you your meal bag. He mutters a, “here” and you take it from him.

“Oh, thanks.” You mumble back, touching the bag carefully to make sure it was warm enough. It felt decent enough to eat, so you pulled it out of the bag.

As you do that, Soap has already getting his open and is looking back to you. “So, where were you stationed before joining us? I know it was in your file somewhere, but I forgot.” Soap continues on in conversation, mixing his food a bit.

“The Green Berets.” You answer, pulling the rip-strip on the top of the food pouch. The smell of chicken hits you instantly, and the sight of the noodles is already unappealing. “Outside of basics and the platoon I was assigned to, I’ve been with them my whole career. Until now of course with transferring to a Task Force.”

Soap hums softly as he listens to you and takes his first bite of the chicken veggie noddle MRE. Watching him eat it makes you shutter, though he seemed unbothered.

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” Soap mutters through a mouthful of food, his words come out muffled as he chews. He doesn’t bother to finish chewing and swallowing before speaking again. “Did some training with them back in the day.”

You wrinkle your nose in distaste, watching as he continues to take another bite of the noodles. He hadn’t even finished his first bite before adding another one. You never really noticed the way he ate until now.

“You know, the chicken noodles are bad enough on their own. You really don’t need to make it worse by talking with your mouth full.” You frown.

Soap chuckles at you, though he at least swallows before speaking again. “At least I’m eating it. You haven’t even touched yours.” He points towards your untouched meal bag with his spoon.

You glance down at the bag of unappetizing noodles and sigh. “Can you blame me? This stuff is revolting.”

He laughs again, rolling his eyes as he takes another bite. “Come on, it’s not that bad. The faster you eat it, the sooner you’ll be done suffering.”

You can't argue with that logic. As much as you hate to admit it, Soap has a point. The faster you got the food down, the sooner it’d be over, and the less you would taste. It wasn’t like you weren’t capable of eating fast either. Back in bootcamp, you only had five minutes to eat sometimes. So you were more than capable of shoveling it down, you just preferred not to eat that way.

Sighing to yourself, shoulders sagging, you reluctantly scoop up a small bite and force it into your mouth. The taste isn’t terrible, just bland, but the texture is what gets you. A shudder runs through you as you chew, and you can’t help but gag slightly as the mushy noodles slide down your throat.

The whole time you struggle through the bite, Soap watches with wide eyes, his expression shifting between horror and concern. When you finally swallow and chase the taste with a swig of water, he shakes his head. “Steamin' Jesus, that was fucking painful to watch.” He mutters.

You shutter once more, the sensation of the food sliding down your throat lingering for a moment. “I’d rather eat a raw fish from the lake we bathe in than finish this.” You complain, scowling down at the still very full bag.

Soap lets out a small huff that resembles a laugh as he turns back to his soggy noodles. “We could probably go fishing and catch a few. Cook them over the fire instead of eating them raw like some deranged woodsperson.”

Your eyes widen, and you snap your head toward him so fast it nearly startles him. “Could we really do that?!” you ask, barely containing your excitement.

You have been eating MREs or bread for the past fives days for every meal. Cooking fish, real food, instead of eating the bland, processed, and sometimes unidentifiable sludge that somehow passes for a meal in those packets would be a welcome change.

Soap still looks a little shocked, blinking at you before nodding his head slowly. “Uh, yeah.. it’s really not that hard to go fishing.” He answers slowly, and his confirmation just makes you more excited.

“Why the hell haven’t we been fishing this entire time?! Can we go fishing? Please?”

“Well…” Soap hesitates. “I mean we’d have to take the time to make some spears, and then you need to descale them and take all the bones out, and-“

“We can do those things.” You argue, your voice hopeful.

“What are you gonna season the fish with? And what about this stuff?” He holds up his half-eaten MRE. “We just gonna waste it?”

You huff, sitting back slightly. “We can use salt, cause I know we have that back at the cabin. I saved some packets from a different MRE in case of emergency. And really? There is no way that you can look me in the eyes and tell me that you’d rather eat that disgusting shit instead of fresh fish. I know you’d have no problem with tossing that for real food.”

You both stare at each other, neither one of you moving or blinking. Soap is stubbornly holding his ground, but you know him well enough to know he hates what he’s eating too. He just toying with you.

When you raise an eyebrow at him expectantly, it breaks him. He lets out a huff, a smirk quickly forming on his face. “Yeah, alright. This is pretty fucking disgusting.” He agrees with a laugh. “I’m pretty sure my stomach was gonna reject it if I tried to take another bite.”

“Does this mean we’re gonna go fishing?” You ask, a grin quickly spreading across your face.

Soap looks at you, his expression softening in a way that sends a flutter through your chest. His lips curve into a relaxed smile, his shoulders loosening as the tension eases from his posture. His stunningly blue eyes, usually so guarded and intense, are soft and filled with a mix of warmth and something deeper—a tenderness that catches you off guard. Affection?

“Yeah, we can go fishing.” Soap laughs, his voice light with amusement, the gentle look in his eyes lingering.

Your excitement bubbles over, pushing aside any further analysis of his gaze. With a grin, you quickly seal up your MRE, stow your water bottle, and begin packing. “Oh God, it’s gonna taste so good. I can already smell it cooking.” You ramble on, earning a laugh from him as he starts to pack up as well.

After everything is packed away and the backpack is zipped, Soap stands and slings it onto his shoulder. By the time he’s fully upright, you’ve already taken off. He watches as you practically bound off towards the part of the stream where you crossed earlier. He watches you for a moment, a smile tugging at his lips, then shakes his head before hurrying to catch up.

@the-faceless-bride @venavanup @hotthankss @daemondoll

[sysmedsaresexist]

Changing mindsets, from a Real Anti Endo™️

The Release of the (Pro/Endo) Golden Goose

I hope everyone from all sides will give this important, heartfelt post a read.

It's likely something you'll want to be aware of if you have a vested interest in syscourse and the validity of endogenic systems. Please give this a chance.

It's been almost three years since I started my blogs. Wow. I've been on tumblr a hell of a lot longer, but I really wasn't involved in the system community. I started out firm and loud. I probably inadvertently fakeclaimed (I went into this with the rule that I would NOT directly tell anyone they were faking, it was a boundary that I knew would ruin me socially if I crossed it, but I'm sure I probably did without meaning to), I name called and made fun of people and things. I was disrespectful to people. I invaded tags to get my message out there, though I was quick to stop once I realized I was making the tags unusable for the community I claimed to want to protect.

I learned very quickly what was appropriate and what wasn't, what I could get away with and what I couldn't. It started to become a numbers game, influenced by the risk of the post.

I made a lot of friends and a lot of enemies, and I amassed a following of over 2k. More people have come and gone from my little community than I ever thought possible. People made fanart of me, and I cherish those so deeply. I have over 300 asks because I struggle to delete the ones thanking me.

And the more I was thanked, the nicer I got, the more thanks, the nicer I got, rinse and repeat until I had trouble NOT empathizing with pro/endos. The more I was willing to listen, the more legitimate sources I came across that disproved my original ideas about consciousness. The people sharing the sources were more respectful than I thought they'd be. Things were starting to look a bit cloudy.

I talked to my colleagues about how they, as therapists, would handle some of these endos in their practice, and while their belief in the concept varied, kindness and attempts to understand was the consistent answer. When had I lost that kindness and understanding that had driven me to that field to begin with?

Colleagues, yes. For those who don't know, I have a degree in social services and counselling (plus three other degrees). It's why the current situation with the antis turning on me is so funny. I still can't get into the mindset of some of these new anti endos, I just can't imagine justifying that level of cruelty. I had lines that I wouldn't cross, and I didn't think people could be worse than me.

... That might have been a trauma thing, looking back on it.

So I got desperate.

I spoke to the actual doctors who wrote some of these papers all of us are quoting. Everyone was arguing the meaning of the words, so I went directly to the source.

Dr Colin Ross, who wrote about endogenous multiplicity in the 80s. I told him everything-- about plurals, non-traumagenic systems, syscourse, what was being debated, how I and others interpreted his words, and what I wanted to learn.

Was plurality only trauma based?

And back and forth and back and forth we went, with me asking over and over again in different ways, NEEDING to hear that it was.

But I never got that answer. He meant what he meant. He said what he said and he meant it.

That plurality was not only found in the aftermath of trauma.

And I said nothing to anyone because I couldn't reconcile it.

Don't try to read between the lines, I assure you, there isn't some hidden meaning to be found there. I can't share all of the messages because some contained personal information, but my final response will tell you all you need to know.

(It did NOT, in fact, make sense, and it took me three years to "rethink my paper" that endogenic plurality wasn't possible, I did not win that conversation, it was a dying stance that was not supported)

I've been accused of paying too much attention to my follower count, but I can't really help it. It's really scary when you make a post and see a sizeable drop. It means a lot of different things. My posts have less reach and support. I've upset people. I've done something wrong. My community is leaving me.

I'm in a weird spot, where I'm blocked by so much of the pro/endo community that I have nothing to join, and the anti endo community, who I still wholeheartedly support, continues to leave me for -checks smudged writing on hand- being too nice??

Misinformation about DID is a massive problem, and it's why I still consider myself anti endo and support that community. I relate to them in such a way that I'll always gravitate to and empathize with them.

Or at least, that's what I thought.

At this point, though, how can I not be pro/endo when Colin fucking Ross says it's possible?

I've already written about how I'm really struggling with these labels, and I love the people that have stuck around while I struggle to figure this out.

I hurt when I see the people that once supported me leave.

My (online) world is shrinking. Literally.

That's scary.

When you've watched so many turn away, you start to wonder, with every post, where is the line where the rest are going to leave? Is it this post?

I just want to be me, us, we want to laugh at the stupid crap people say, system or not, I want to talk about my disorder, I want to combat misinformation, I want to have productive, fun conversations about ideas and concepts with people who disagree and have different interpretations. I want to play devil's advocate and get people thinking. I want to be able to comment positivity and kindness on any post I see, I want to feel comfortable talking to more people about their ideas. I sympathize with anti endos, I relate to CDD systems, I still firmly believe that CDDs and plurality are different, unrelated concepts.

My priority will always and forever be the CDD community first and foremost.

However, I am a hypocrite. I have gone straight to the horse's mouth and failed. I've seen so much research that I finally get it. I'm grappling with holding on to this conversation with Dr Ross, wondering what harm I could have prevented if I'd gone public with these emails earlier.

Since when has being open to change been a bad thing?

Since when has showing respect to lived experiences been a bad thing?

What am I? What label describes this?

How do I go forward from here?

What are you going to do with this information?

I promise you, hate isn't the way forward.

[rachetmath]

Ruby: Okay has anyone noticed anything wrong with Jaune?

Yang: Ruby he is in therapy. He’s fine.

Ruby: I know but that’s not the problem.

Weiss: She right he’s kind of been off lately.

Nora: What do you mean?

Blake: Jaune seems to get easily frustrated and distracted.

Nora: I mean when is he never?

Ruby: Yeah but you would think Jaune being in therapy he would not get like that so easily.

Yang: He’s probably having a hard time readjusting.

Ren: But it has been months though.

Nora: It’s a slow recover.

Ren: But it’s seems to be happening in a pattern.

Oscar: How so?

Emerald: It’s what causes him to lack focus and push him.

Yang: Wait does Jaune want to fight someone?

Blake: How are you not looking?

Qrow: What are you all talking about?

Ruby: Jaune’s issue.

Qrow: Yeah I noticed it.

Ruby: Really?

Qrow: Yeah and I understand. The struggle is real. He needs to get it.

Nora: So he does want to fight someone.

Ren: Nora, come on, keep up.

Oscar: None of you are making sense.

Ozpin: Oscar it’s obvious.

Oscar: What is?

Jaune: Hi, everyone.

Ruby: Oh.

Weiss: Wow Jaune you look... happy.

Jaune: Yeah I finally got what I needed to get the edge off.

Blake: *laughs and sarcastically*Really? By who?

Jaune: By Elm.

RWBQRE: *chew drop*

Jaune: Yeah, it was fun. And I feel a lot better now.

Blake: (No freakin way. With their height difference and her body mass.)

Yang: Well I’m glad you are okay.

Nora: Dang you and Elm must have went all out in the sparring match.

RWB, Qrow, Ren and Emerald: (What the fuck? They can’t be-)

Jaune: Yeah… ... a ‘sparring match’. Yeah.

Ren: (BULLSHIT! HE HAS TO BE LYING!)

Yang: How many rounds did you two go? I bet I could go more rounds than her.

Blake: YANG!!!

Yang: What?

Nora: Yeah Yang, you can go ten but I can go twenty.

Ren: *face palm* Nora please.

Nora: Ren come on you know I can do it.

Ruby and Weiss: (Idiots. The both of them.)

Oscar: Um-(covered)

Emerald: Shut up. You’ll thank me later once we talk.

Jaune: Sorry, Yang and Nora but I lost count after five.

Blake:(NO! No freaking way! You got to be lying! There is no way without getting your back broken.)

Ren: (How much frustration have you been holding?! And how come I couldn’t see it?!)

Ruby: Blake are you okay? You look frustrated.

Blake: Nothing Ruby.

Yang: Well okay we’ll ask Elm tomorrow.

Jaune: Um. I wouldn’t.

Nora: And why not?

Jaune: Reasons. (I over did it.)

Yang: Jaune there is no need to be embarrassed, we already know. She pinned you.

Jaune: (Oh hell no! F you too,) You know what, ask her tomorrow. She’ll give you both the juicy details. See you later.

Nora: Glad you’re okay Jaune.

The Next day

Yang: Hey Elm.

Elm: *tired and yawns* Hello.

Nora: Wow you look horrible.

Elm: What did you expect? Your friends was beast.

Yang: What you mean? Jaune was on an island for I don’t know how long. Of course he be difficult but he couldn't beat you.

Jaune: You know we talk outside if you want.

Elm: Yes, I see. No wonder he was bit ruff last night.

Blake: (NO!)

Ren: (No. No. No! No way possible.)

Qrow:(Damn, he actually hit that. And survived.)

Emerald: (How much heat was he packing?)

Jaune: I’m sorry. I know I over did it. I was overwhelmed.

Elm: Don’t worry you did wonders for me. Especially on your first try.

Yang: Yeah but--- wait “first try?” “Last night?”

Nora: … … …

Jaune: I mean I know I could have done better.

Elm: You were fine. Especially after round ten. You were a monster.

Nora: No. No. No way.

Yang: Impossible.

Elm: In fact my body is still sore after that. It was miracle I was able to stand up at all.

Oscar: *blushes*

Emerald: Told you so.

Ozpin: (*sigh* You’re going to need some time to process this.)

Yang and Nora: *blush and faint*

Blake: YANG!

Ren: NORA!

Elm: Oh. Too much.

Jaune: Yeah. Just enough.

Afterwards…

Nora: Jaune what the hell?!

Jaune: *laughs*

Yang: I thought you were having hard time readjusting?

Jaune: I was but...I had other needs.

Yang: Oh my gosh and I said I can last longer than Elm. In the sheets no less.

Jaune: *laughs*

Yang: *red eyed and blushes* NOT FUNNY!!!

Ruby: I mean how did you not notice it?

Yang: What are you talking about Ruby?

Ruby: Yang seriously? You didn’t know after Jaune was looking at your breast instead of your eyes.

Yang: What?

Blake: Or how he was staring at Emerald’s ass.

Emerald: I knew it. Especially after Nora-

Jaune: No-no let’s not go there.

Nora: Wait you mean when I… Jaune really?

Jaune: …. Sorry.

Ren: Or how Jaune was staring at every girl or woman that passes him.

Yang; Holy. T-then how did Elm-

Jaune: Elm saw. She teased me. I reached my limit. Wanted to hit it. She gave me a shot. Mission complete.

Nora: This can’t be real. Why?

Jaune: I was on an island. Alone.

Nora: So?

Jaune; I was alone. With no human people. Just toys and objects. What else must I say?

Yang: Okay. But why Elm?

Jaune: It was either her, Harriet, Winter, or Fiona.

Weiss: Hold on, what?

Yang: The f*** wrong with you?

Jaune: Again I was on an island. No humans. What do you expect? Booty was the second thing on my mind besides going home.

Nora: Well okay but why just Elm, Harriet, Winter and Fiona?

Jaune: … … …

Weiss: JAUNE!!

Nora: You mother-

Yang: Really?!

Emerald: We judging now?

Jaune: Hold on. Hold on now, I don’t recall any of you girls throwing me anything. What rights do you have to judge me?

Yang; She is older than you.

Jaune: I’m older than you!

Weiss: You were thinking about my sister?

Jaune: If it makes you feel any better she was my last option.

Weiss: No. No it does not.

Jaune: I mean for me it was worth it.

Ruby: Wait Winter is last? How are the others ranked?

Yang: Why is that your concern?

Ruby: I want answers.

Jaune: Well Fiona was my top choice. Harriet was my second. Elm was originally my third. And Winter is last.

Blake: Why is Fiona on top?

Jaune: She’s cute and doesn’t need ass or big chest to prove anything. And she actual helps her people.

Blake: *sad*

Ruby: Why is Harriet second?

Jaune: Nice ass, cute and good tits.

Nora: Elm?

Jaune: The challenge. And despite her warrior spirit, she's kind.

Weiss: Okay, I might regret this but… why is Winter last?

Jaune: You know why.

Weiss: F*** you too then.

Jaune: You wish.

Weiss: I did. I wish I could’ve been your first.

Ruby: Oh Weiss. You are Pyrrha now.

[2knightt]

Heyyy!!! Could i please get The gang with a reader they were never romantically interested in, just friends with, getting a glow up? And the gang slowly realizes they have feelings for them? And reader used to have a crush on them? Angsty please 🤧🙏🏽

୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ tastes like she might be the one. ⋄ 𓍯

REQUESTED…the gang realizes what they lost a little too late.

tags/warnings: shitty angst, gn!reader, reader isn’t forgiving, EVERYONE is toxic, story-focused, i made reader and the gang stop being friends cuz rejection is awkward.

ೃauthor notes⁀➷ i seen this req and started maliciously laughing to myself while rubbing my hands

—

johnny cade

falling in love with your best friend. it’s a common troupe in tv shows, but have you ever noticed it never works out in real life?

you watched from a distance as johnny walked around the whole east-side with ponyboy. your ‘best friend’ was hanging out with someone else after telling you, ‘he was busy.’

a sudden feeling of disappointment washed over you. it was no longer the usual sadness you felt after seeing johnny hang out with his other friends after bailing on you.

you were almost numb to it.

the ball in your throat you’d usually get as tears swelled in your eyes evolved into thoughts of what was for dinner.

before, you’d drop hints that you’d like him. all johnny would do is brush them off. you know he’s not stupid and that he knew what you meant, he just didn’t feel the same.

now, you’re avoiding him. which was easier than you think as it still seemed he was uncomfortable around you.

eventually, you just stopped talking. people would ask why you guys don’t hang out anymore or they’d ask where johnny was. all you’d do was shrug your shoulders.

why should you care?

a significant amount of time had passed since johnny last seen you face-to-face. obviously, he was mature enough to admit that it was his fault. but, he can’t stand being awkward around you.

until one fateful and unfortunate day.

“ow! jesus, man—watch where you’re going.”

“yea.”

johnny mumbled, watching the random, rather pretty person, rub their head. you looked up instead of looking down at the concrete, only to meet johnny cade’s eyes.

“johnny?”

“wait-y/n?”

his eyes scanned you up and down, shock settings in. how were you the same person he’d giggle with about the latest comic?

“uh, yeah. tha’s me.”

you mumbled, feeling a little bit awkward from it all. i mean, who wouldn’t? he’s looking at you like you’re a model from the magazine’s two-bit steals.

“…wow. you, uhm—look amazing.”

“yeah, thanks.”

you two muttered amongst yourselves, looking like the epitome of awkward teens. johnny was rubbing the back of his neck as you picked at your nails.

“so,”

johnny started, his voice already shaking and unstable.

“what’re you doing this week?”

“gonna be busy. sorry.”

you waved off his question before saying a sorry excuse for a goodbye.

johnny stood there, feeling slight deja vu as you walked past him. he used to tell you he was gonna be busy to stay away.

and now here you are, doing the same.

the ball in this throat wouldn’t go away no matter how hard he tried to swallow it back, no matter how hard he tried to blink the tears away.

a familiar feeling of sadness washed over him

dallas winston

“it’s not like i’d ever date you, anyhow.”

sure, he was drunk when he said it as you carried him out of the drive-in. but, you know the saying. drunk words are sober thoughts.

you liked dallas. like, a lot. many might’ve said he wasn’t worthy of you—you disagreed each time. but, it was clear he didn’t feel the same.

he treated you like a friend. which, you two were friends, but it’s hard to watch someone you love treat you like the same guys he puts into headlocks.

after that, you distanced yourself. you knew he was cursing you deep down for ignoring him, fuelling his belief that every person was out for him.

but, you couldn’t look at him without feeling like crying while angrily punching him.

a few months went passed and you, somehow, managed to steer clear of dallas winston for the time being.

until one slip-up.

you and your new-found-friends all watched the drag race with giggles and cheers filling the air.

a tap on your shoulder pulled you out of the trance, turning your head only to be greeted with dallas’ cold, dark eyes.

“i thought that was you, y’know. where the hell have you been?”

everyone got awkward. you avoided his gaze whilst your friends went silent, whispering to each other.

“around.”

“so, you go ‘round and change up your whole look?”

“exactly.”

you answered, an obvious attitude in your voice as you held back an eye roll.

“well, you look good. if that’s what you wanna hear.”

“i know. now go away, dallas.”

you spat before turning your attention back to the track, quickly talking your friends back into their excited mood.

dallas watched as you acted like he didn’t exist. he clenched his jaw as he walked away, his hands in a fist while walking into an abandoned alleyway.

a crack was heard from his knuckles, followed by a groan. his skin was red, fresh wounds opening before he punched the brick wall again.

the seconds felt like minutes and the minutes felt like hours as dallas trashed the alleyway, making it look like a tornado had rushed through only the narrow path.

anger was the only thing he felt. for you embarrassing him and for allowing you to slip through his fingers.

ponyboy curtis

“i don’t see myself datin’ you. you know that, right?”

he snapped after you, not so subtly, hinted that you liked him. ponyboy was always one for brutal honesty, but at a time like this, it wasn’t needed.

the longer and longer you thought about it, you seemed to create this idea of ponyboy. the one that would take you out, not ignore your feelings, step up when he had to, and most importantly—actually like you.

delusional is what you’d call it. psycho is what ponyboy told his friends as you sat across the street with yours.

over summer break, it was only natural you’d mature and grow into your looks. you were always beautiful, but the change was enough to knock anyone out of their seat.

especially when it was your ex-crush slash ex-best friend.

you sat out on a bench by the lot, chin tilted up to look at the stars that twinkled. the concept of ‘vampire stars,’ always amazed you.

things so beautiful were still able to suck the lives out of the ones closest to them. the shining dots in the black ink of the sky still resembled the humans below.

“y/n..? why are you out so late?”

you heard a groggy voice come from behind you after a tap on your shoulder. unfortunately for you, you immediately recognized the voice.

“i was jus’ about to go home, ponyboy.”

you mumbled in response, quick to gather your things. panic washed over pony as he seen you getting ready to leave. his hand grabbed your wrist, loosening his grip as he realized how weird it was.

“can’t you stay a little longer and talk?”

“not really, i don’t see myself talking to you anytime soon. good night, ponyboy.”

you answered rather bluntly as you yanked your wrist out of his hold. you walked away without bothering to look behind you.

ponyboy stood there, dumbfounded. he was always one to read between the lines—so when you told him, “anytime soon,” he took that as, “i’ll talk to you, just not right now.”

call it delusion or insanity, but in his head, he was just seeing someone who is still getting over the crush they had on him.

maybe you’ll like him back soon.

sodapop curtis

“i like someone else, y/n. ‘m real sorry.”

even when he’s rejecting you, he still treated you better than any other guy you’d dated. that’s why you could never say you hated sodapop curtis, he’s too sweet for such a word.

although, he wasn’t all that sweet if he was avoiding you. soda said he’d forget like the whole confession thing happened, but he clearly didn’t even bother trying.

you longed for him to even wave at you. for his eyes to meet yours. you just wanted his attention. desperation was truly a shameful thing.

he was so quick to go and date sandy. maybe it was a blessing in disguise. it helped you move on quicker. slower than most, yes, but quicker than you ever thought.

you had met a rather cute guy awhile back. made you feel like a little girl again with how special he treated you. he made you forget all about soda.

you waved goodbye to your boyfriend as he kissed you on the cheek before you closed the car door. he dropped you off at home, so it wasn’t a far walk. any farther and sodapop, who was sitting inside, would’ve went crazy.

your mom had let him in, pushing your old history aside and offered him a hot cup of tea. he sipped on it while holding back tears.

once the click of the lock was heard, soda’s eyes began to water.

“y/n, sandy she-“

he mumbled as he seemed to lunge at you, his arms already wrapped around you. you felt his tears hit the crown of your head like bullets.

despite your morals, you pushed him away, wriggling yourself out of your grasp.

“dude, you can’t just do that.”

“why not? i thought we were best friends.”

“were, soda. we were friends.”

you said flatly, no emotion past disappointment in your voice when you spoke while you took your shoes off.

“and don’t touch me. i have a boyfriend.”

“you what?”

“yeah. i don’t like you anymore and we aren’t friends. you can go home now.”

soda stood there with a broken expression on his face, he was nothing more than a defeated and an empty man in a house that was no longer comforting.

he watched as you walked around the corner, not even sparing a glance toward him.

a small part of him hoped you would. you’d gotten prettier since he’d last saw you. your eyes shinned brighter, your smile was wider, and you stood with more confidence.

he really, really wanted you to look at him.

darry curtis

“look, y/n. i like you and all, but i needa focus on myself and my football.”

two years ago, before you guys graduated, you confessed. you immediately regretted it.

you looked a fool as darry curtis nervously rubbed the back of his head. all you did was nod and let out a small, ‘okay,’ before walking off.

you went to the college that was the farthest away from tulsa. being in the city reminded you of the embarrassment.

as you studied, you obviously matured. both mentally and physically. you no longer held the silly grudge against darry, even when you had to go back to visit family.

but all it took was a small wave toward darry for all the memories to go rushing back. but, not to you. to him.

seeing you giggle as you played with your younger cousins made him regret telling you he wanted to focus on football.

he envisioned the life you two could’ve had.

you helping ponyboy with his schoolwork, comforting soda when sandy had left him, and making him a home cooked meal when he went home.

but that’s all behind him now. it was just a fantasy.

you two are older. and even then, it’s not like you’d give him a chance. you still think he’s the biggest football star.

steve randle

“i don’t like you. i’m sorry, y/n. i jus’ don’t.”

and he left it off at that. of course, you never out right said you liked him. steve randle wasn’t stupid, however.

he knows how to read between the lines. and you know when to leave someone alone. and steve clearly didn’t want to be around you.

you watched longingly from afar when you seen him in any casual setting. you’d do anything to take the confession back—to go back to normal.

as the weeks and months passed, you never even seen steve. it seemed your obsessive staring and the need to check up on him constantly ended.

the habit, or rather the addiction, finally stopped.

it didn’t stop for steve. he seen you at the DX for the first time in awhile, smiling and giggling with your friends.

you’d only smile like that with him. he grasped the wrench harder as he clenched his jaw.

while paying, steve made sure to walk through the front doors so you’d see him.

“oh. hey, y/n.”

“…hey.”

you muttered with your brows pinched together, looking at him like he was the girls you used to gossip about him with.

“so, uh—you look nice.”

“thanks.”

your boring answer made it seem like you wanted a way out. and steve knew when to let go of a conversation, he wasn’t dumb.

you walked past him and out the door, your friends glaring at him. his eyes never left your figure as you walked away.

he wished he could take back the words he said. maybe if he wasn’t so rude, you’d be back beside him.

two-bit mathews

“you’re funny, y/n.”

funny. funny was what he thought about your feelings. you loving him was funny.

fine. you’d show him funny. let’s see if him being without you was ‘funny.’

you avoided him, ignoring him when he tried to call you over. this would help you move on and show him what was fucking ‘funny.’

the next, ‘hey, y/n,’ should be the last. you couldn’t stand to look at the dumb curl from his brunette hair that rested on his forehead. you couldn’t stand his laugh.

two-bit had gotten the hint. he left you alone even though it felt weird walking around town without you.

he hadn’t seen you in weeks, until at the bar. he heard your giggle and suddenly his heart raced like never before.

maybe it was jealousy or dislike.

two-bit found you sitting on a bar stool, a shot in hand. out of instinct and habit, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

“two-bit?”

“why’ve you been ignoring me, dude?”

the humour in his voice was no longer there as he felt nothing was funny in you ignoring him.

“that’s funny, two. go bother dallas or somethin’.”

you grumbled with your jaw clenched, pushing him off you. two-bit muttered something under his breath as he pushed the exit.

he cannot stand the way your hands were still soft or how your lips were still parted when you focused in on the conversation.

[minnielvr]

PROD. KITKAT - CHAPTER 3 : "fine shyt"

while on the way to the jyp building for your first official job with stray kids, you wondered how it would be. would they be loud like they usually are? will they be awkward around you? you didn't have enough time to think about it though, you were already at jyp.

you scan your id badge and make your way over to one of the recording rooms. todays plan was to talk to stray kids and see the concept they had in mind for their new album and make some sample beats for music.

you find the room and knock on the door, you hear someone say come in and then open the door to find bang chan, changbin, and jisung. you bow your head and greet them and they do the same.

"good morning y/n, how are you?" bang chan asks you.

"good morning to you too, im doing fine, and you?" you replied back. you were still trying to talk formally with him, at least in korean, it felt more professional, especially since you just met him.

"im doing good too, excited to work with you today" he smiles at you.

you give a polite smile and nod your head in return. you thought that you should talk to changbin and jisung too. you turn your head toward them, but they are already talking and giggling with each other, you decided to just stay quiet.

bang chan called your name and showed you all the equipment in the room, which wasn't much different than all the other rooms you had worked in. again, you weren't really paying attention to what he was saying just letting it go through one ear and out the other, muttering the occasional "ohh, yea, really?, wow" here and there.

all of a sudden there was a loud knock on the door and the rest of the stray kids showed up. the room instantly became loud but not for long because felix spotted you in the corner of the room and said, "oh look, y/n noona is here!" after that, everyone went silent, and it got kind of awkward.

"well lets get to work then?" jisung asked, trying to break the tension.

the rest of the members sat down and explained what the whole theme and concept of the album was, as well as explaining what type of music they wanted. you took notes on your laptop, making reminders and such, while occasionally checking your phone. you discussed with them a little bit to go over everything and made sure you understood correctly.

after the little discussion was done, every member left except bang chan, changbin, and jisung. you figured now you guys were going to play around with some beats and see what you could come up with.

you guys did exactly that, for 2 hours straight. you also talked a bit with the boys, getting to know them more. they seemed like nice guys, you just didn't want to work with them. you missed working with your friends. (mainly because you didn't actually work)

changbin and jisung had to leave early with the other boys for dance practice or something like that, but you stayed with chan for a little longer. helping him sample some things and whatnot.

"so y/n," chan says in english, "what do you think so far? about us, i mean."

"oh uh, you guys are," you spent a good 10 seconds trying to find a word to describe them, "unique."

chan laughed, "unique?? whats that supposed to mean?" he said with a smile on his face.

you finally realized it could have sounded rude and your eyes went wide and you instantly started apologizing.

"oh my god im sorry i didn't mean it like that!!" you said while shaking your hands.

he laughed again, "im just messing with ya, i know what you meant."

you sighed, feeling relieved.

"actually, you and felix remind me of this other friend i have, his name is jake, hes from another kpop group" you explained.

"jake from enhyphen?" bang chan asked.

you nodded your head in response.

"ohh felix is actually friends with him, i think. anyway did you use to work with them too?"

"nah i've only worked here, i just know them because of itzy."

"ahh. so you have a lot of idol friends then im guessing?"

"not really, i try to keep it professional when im working but itzy are just something else. they always used to pull me around and take me with them wherever they went. we're like sisters to be honest. without them and enhyphen, i'd be pretty lonely." you say, reminiscing old memories.

bang chan looks at you with a little glow in his eyes, it reminds him of how he felt with his boys.

"ah, so all your other friends are back home?" he asked.

"yea, but i never really have time to go back, jyp never gives me time off. so we kinda grew apart, except a few really close friends." you said with a sad expression. you realized you were becoming a little too emotional and decided to change the subject.

"so anyway, whats it like being an idol? i heard you guys are like, at your peak right now and stuff." you asked.

"its..stressful to say the least. especially because i also have to produce the music. my old partners wouldn't really do anything so i was left making all the music. thats why we needed to hire someone different." he explained.

'shit' you thought to yourself. you barely do work yourself. what made jyp think you can work with a top boy group right now?

"oh damn, well, i assure you, i'll help you a lot. or - i'll try my best." you said with a smile on your face. he seemed like he need the help anyway, he always looked tired.

you guys carried on doing work and talking until it was 7:00, the sun had already set and you figured it was the best time to get going now.

you and bang chan wrapped up and walked out the door, he was making his way to the dance room and you to the lobby, you said your goodbyes and went your separate ways.

───────────────────────────────

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the taglist is open!!! pls comment on this post or send an ask if u wld like to be added!!!

authors note: me when fine shyt

taglist : @kkamismom12 @haven-skies @likeathunderoverflow @hwangrfrnd @xerces00 @hyunjinvoid @dansphil

[zoropookie]

HOW HATERS ARE BORN (HHAB)

♡ chapter twenty-six — br(ok)en (💋)

You stared at your phone light up for the twelfth time within five minutes with a dull expression.

Admittedly, you felt angrier knowing that Scaramouche still had the audacity to even text you after everything. After tormenting you for years and years, what kind of shame should someone feel after that, you wonder. The relentless pursuit of making your life miserable—to which he failed at, but it did make you wonder.

Did you do something to deserve it? Each notification felt like another jab that he took to the heart, reopening your wounds from each time he said something messed up to you. As you laid there motionless, with no light ruminating in the room except your phone, you began to feel tears well up in your eyes for the thirteenth time today.

Pursing your lips, you swiped up to read the messages and only felt reminded even further of every harsh word he said. Every cruel taunt, every moment of humiliation...and yet...

He was still right, despite being the biggest hypocrite known to man. And it pissed you off.

Why were you even laying here? Ignoring the world, rotting here like you're a vegetable. You knew that you were something to people, you knew that you were valued.

There wasn’t anything that was particularly motivating for you to get up, however. You ignored every need that you could have possibly wanted, subjecting yourself to sparseness. No matter how much you wanted to, the thoughts always came back and you didn’t know how to deal with them.

A small knock echoed from the front door. It was loud enough to hear, and you still shoved your head in the pillow and hoped it went away.

The longer time you went without answering it, the knocks became more frequent. It wasn’t Thoma, that’s who you could observe without getting up.

You finally managed to drag yourself out of bed, lazing about sounded so much nicer now that you were dreading who’s at the door. With a frustrated sigh, and irritation already to its peak of your heart, you opened the door to a familiar-ish face.

Little girl?

“Did you forget that you exist?” She said with a smile. “Welcome back to Earth! I didn’t know how long you’d be cooped up in here so I brought treats.”

You stared a bit longer than you meant to at the Tupperware of Asafiri in her hands, momentarily taken aback. “Heh?”

“Yanfei sent me here. Looks like you’re having a little bit of trouble getting back on your feet. I take it you know her?” She inquired.

“Yeah.” You blinked slowly, before holding the door a little wider. “Uh…come in, I guess. Thanks for the…treats.” You cringed. “Wow, I get why Heizou keeps being called a creep now, this can look so wrong.”

“The difference is that he does it to himself.”

The warm water on your body was oddly refreshing.

Getting out of the shower was harder knowing that you'd come back to the gust of wind in your living room, but knowing you had fresher pajamas on was also a plus. Things didn't look too great on your mental, especially since you were accustomed to showering a lot in your fresher mind.

You put on the Lightning McQueen slippers you quite often wear, and moved to the kitchen after hearing soft chops of a knife. You wondered what Nahida was up to, staring at her cut apples and bananas before putting them into a huge bowl she found in your cupboard.

"This is a very odd fruit salad you're making." You drew attention to yourself before her eyebrows furrowed. "I don't know whether or not to tell you to be careful with knives."

"I'm smarter than you think I am." Nahida cooed. "I'm used to people being condescending."

"Oh...I'm sorry— You're killing me here, kid. Lady? Are you a child or not?" You asked desperately.

Nahida turned to you, her saturated green eyes stared at you with obviously deliberate thoughts roaming her head before she took a sharp breath. She pointed the knife at you. "Do you feel better?"

"Not...really? I mean, it happened. All of this at once." You tried to process it quicker, but your head failed you. It's like how you actually felt in the moment was blocked. "I feel like I'm in limbo, I don't want to see the sun these days."

"Your thoughts are your biggest enemy right now. Easy to overthink. It's a lot to deal with on your own, good thing you aren't, right?" Nahida lowered the knife, her expression softening. "I cut you up some fresh fruit. It's better than the Asafiri for now, you don't need that much sugar after not eating for a while, or you'll crash hard. And get a headache."

Looking at the bowl loaded with bananas and slices of apples, you couldn't help but wonder why you were even granted this much care anyway. You were in mild disbelief, sitting down at the island counter in front of Nahida. "Why are you actually here?" You said in defeat.

Nahida stopped cutting the fruit, gaze shifting from it to you. She couldn't find what she could say to answer you, but she did press her lips together. "Do you want me to be honest?"

"A little." Your voice lowered.

"Yanfei and Heizou," Nahida paused, trying to find her words, "They wanted to see if I could convince you to start streaming again."

You frowned immediately. "Oh. Thanks for being honest."

"You made progress today, but I don't expect you to be up to it. It's a really big step." She asked you, but you couldn't even decipher the intentions behind her eyes. It was impossible to detect what anybody was thinking nowadays. "They just told me to come over so they can hope their investigation moves."

You sighed, leaning back in your chair once you felt the bitterness course your body again. Hearing that made your mood possibly worse than what it would've been if you were in bed. "Not happening. Thanks for checking on me though, you can leave if you want."

"I knew you'd say that. I guess it's fair, people are...going crazy right now figuring out whether you're okay or not." Nahida smiled once you looked back up at her. "Both Scaramouche and your fans are trying to get anything they can on your wellbeing. It's better to wait it out."

Your hopeful face turned into a sullen one, shoulders slumped at the mention of his name. "I don't know if I can even go back at all."

"I'm not sure how hard this is for you, but with what happened, you've obviously been through enough. While it's your choice to go back, Yanfei is under the impression that you can get revenge." The shorter girl explained. "In my eyes, though...I think you're able to decide that for yourself."

You felt the weight of the memories heavily, your head daunting enough for you to let out a shaky breath. "You think so?"

Nahida nodded, humming, "You don't have to stream, but don't give him the satisfaction if you're upset. You shouldn't let him know that you're suffering because of what he did. The worst thing that you can do is prove him right."

Funnily enough, as soon as she said that, you felt tears well up in your eyes again. It struck a cord, and you knew she was right. It was just knowing that anybody would say it verbatim. "That's the same thing he told me too." You blinked back your tears, more resilient than you were a few minutes ago, but also to the brim of misery.

"He?"

You shook your head, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. "Thanks," You muttered, choking on your words. You couldn't manage to say anything else, otherwise you'd betray your steely posture. "I'll think about it. Just...stay here a little more with me, please. Maybe I'll...find the resolve or something."

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YOU ARE on your way to being one of the hottest streamer in your nation at the moment, racking a monthly average of 10 million viewers, but something specific bothers you about it. you know that a lot of people hate you, but there's this one account. one account that's been following you since the early days of your career. they leave a flood of rude comments in your stream, your moderators banned each account they made, but they keep making more. you are at the end of your tether. but you are yet to find out that this persistent cockroach is none other than your friend's friend (and the only other streamer that's bigger than you), scaramouche.

taglist ♡ @thystarsshine @veekoko @gumickajolli @simonisferal @kamiboo

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@keiiqq @mine-lu @featuredtofu @danhenglovebot @k4zushi

@kyon-cherri @b4tm4nn @iiinaurate @quacking-simp @auroratumbles

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[kimmie2me]

Greeny Ghost

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Ghost!Midoriya Izuku x AFAB!Reader

.....

The alley stretched out longer than you’d thought, shadows swallowing the corners, broken only by dim streetlights. You’d walked down plenty of places like this before, but this one was unnervingly quiet. Your friends were supposed to be with you, daring you into the so-called “haunted” alley, but when you turned back, you saw—no one. Just empty space.

“Those jerks,” you muttered, kicking a stray pebble with an irritated huff. Just your luck to get abandoned in the middle of a ghost story.

That’s when you saw him: a faintly glowing figure at the far end of the alley, barely visible in the low light, his form flickering like static on an old TV. He wore a junior high uniform, like he was frozen in time, but it was his eyes, wide and curious, that had you rooted to the spot.

"What the hell." You blurted out, which caused the ghost to jump a bit.

“You… you can see me?” he asked, sounding more surprised than you felt.

“Guess so,” you replied warily, feeling your fists clench. You took a step back, but he stayed still, watching you with something close to wonder. “A-are you the… ghost? Y'know.. that one ghost?”

“No. I mean, yes, but… not like… like an evil ghost!” he said, frowning as he waved his hands in the air, trying to seem harmless. “I don’t hurt anyone or anything. I just… hang around.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? So why are there all those rumors about people going missing in this alley?”

He let out a dramatic sigh. “I have no idea! I’ve been here for years, and no one ever went missing because of me.” His arms crossed, and he gave you an indignant look, clearly offended. “I keep watch over the place. There’s a run-down building nearby, and sketchy people use it for… whatever sketchy people do. I’m just here observing them, making notes sometimes.”

“Uh-huh,” you said, unconvinced. “Sounds like something an evil ghost would say. Plus, why would anyone believe some… green-haired ghost taking notes?”

His frown deepened and he sighed. "Really? 'Green-haired ghost? I have a name and identity, you know? My name is Midoriya Izuku."

You shrugged, giving him a skeptical look. “Sure, whatever. and I'm giving you a new identity: ‘Greeny Ghost.’ Also, how am supposed to trust you? You're a ghost and the movies basically explain what you're supposed to do. Just don't haunt me or I'll pour holy water down your throat.”

He threw his hands up. “Why are you making this harder than it has to be? I’m just here because I, well, exist here.” His voice softened a bit, frustration giving way to a hint of sadness. “It’s not like I can go anywhere else.”

“Yeah, and every creepy spirit says that before they drag you into some other world and keep you locked up for eternity,” you replied with a smirk, folding your arms in a show of exaggerated defiance. “Sorry, but I’m not falling for the ‘poor trapped ghost’ act.”

Izuku groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as if your words were physically painful. “You remind me so much of Kacchan! In a bad way!”

You raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Uh-huh. And what, or who, the hell is ‘Kacchan’?”

Izuku looked at you, his face twisting into an expression halfway between exasperation and resignation. “Kacchan! My… a friend from junior high. Sort of. He’s… well, actually, no, he’s nothing like you.” Izuku seemed to rethink this, blinking in realization. “He’s a lot worse.”

“Wow. So you’re saying I’m less tolerable than some guy named Kacchan, who, by the sound of it, doesn’t sound like someone with a good rep?” you said with mock offense, pressing a hand to your chest. “Way to compliment a girl, Greeny-Ghost.”

He looked like he was about three seconds away from floating back through the alley wall, giving up on this ridiculous exchange.

You look at him a bit more closer, and you note he looked about your age, but… different. Ghostly, of course, but there was something else, something in his eyes that almost seemed… lonely. You didn’t know if you believed him, but something about him made you stay.

“What’re you even doing here?” you finally asked, taking a careful step forward. "Are you trapped here or something?"

“Besides not being evil?” he shot back, still salty. But when he saw you weren’t about to leave, he sighed, softening. “A villain got me… in this alley. I was just a kid, and I never really… left, I guess. People pass by now and then, but nobody usually sees me.” He shifted, looking suddenly uncertain. “Actually, you’re the first one to ever talk to me.”

You studied him, noticing the worn edges of his uniform, the tired, resigned look in his eyes. He seemed less scary and more… well, kind of tragic. Still, you weren’t about to let your guard down. “Yeah, well, maybe people hear the creepy noises you make,” you challenged. “Y'know it freaks them out.”

He blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Oh! You mean the notes? I’m trying to keep track of the activity around here,” he said defensively. “Besides, no one told me my note-taking was creepy.”

“Right,” you said, biting back a smirk. “So you’re a scholarly ghost, huh?”

A light blush appeared on his cheeks. “Look, I don’t get many hobbies! Ghosts don’t have a lot to do except observe.” He crossed his arms, giving you a quick glare before his expression softened again. “Anyway, I’m not the villain here. The creepy noises? That’s just me muttering to myself or something.”

Your arms relaxed a bit, the eerie feeling of the alley giving way to something else entirely. His earnestness was unexpected, and honestly, a little endearing.

“Alright, Greeny,” you relented, softening just a little. “Maybe you’re not as evil as they say.”

He sighed, looking relieved but still a little skeptical himself. “That’s… comforting, I guess.”

You shrugged, shoving your hands in your pockets. “Guess I’ll see you around.” You turned, giving him a small wave as you walked away, his faint figure watching you until you disappeared around the corner.

.....

Three days later, you found yourself back at the alley. You weren’t sure why—maybe it was the way he’d looked at you, or that stupid hopefulness in his voice. This time, you came with something: a small letter in your hand, the ink smudged slightly where you’d clutched it nervously.

You called out, half-expecting him not to show, but he appeared, looking pleasantly surprised.

“Back already?” he teased, a lopsided smile on his face. "

“Don’t get too excited,” you shot back, trying to keep your tone casual. You extended the letter. “It’s… from your mom. I found her, told her I met you… and I convinced her to write something for you. Don't ask why I did it. You looked so miserable here, it made me miserable.”

His mouth dropped open, his expression turning from surprise to something you couldn’t quite name. He took the letter in shaking hands, his gaze fixed on it like it was the most precious thing in the world.

“She… she actually remembered me?” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. He looked up, tears pooling in his eyes. “Thank you… I can’t believe you’d go out of your way for… for me.”

You shrugged, feeling a little awkward under the weight of his gratitude. “Figured you could use a reminder that you’re not just… some alley ghost.”

He laughed a little through his tears, wiping his eyes. “I’m really not an evil ghost,” he said, voice soft and grateful.

“Yeah, well,” you replied, rolling your eyes with a small grin. “You’re still Greeny Ghost to me.”

Izuku blinked, visibly surprised by your small grin, and for a second he just stood there, processing it. Then, with an awkward but excited energy, he smiled back.

“D-do you want to, uh… stick around for a bit? I could, um, show you what I’ve written down,” he stammered, gesturing to a tattered notebook that materialized in his hands.

You chuckled. “Sure. Show me what a scholarly ghost looks like.”

He lit up, practically vibrating with excitement as he began flipping through his notes, talking fast as he pointed out every bit of information he’d gathered. You listened, half amused and half impressed by his careful, detailed observations. Each page was crammed with tiny, meticulous handwriting that covered everything from people he’d seen pass by to strange objects left in the alley over the years.

“I try to keep track of everything,” he explained earnestly. “It’s not like anyone really notices me, so I figured… maybe someday, if someone needed to know anything about this area, I’d have it all written down.”

“Sounds like you take your ghostly duties pretty seriously, huh?” you teased, glancing through his observations. "Well, I try to be a hero in my own way" He replied with a small smile. As you skimmed a particularly eerie note about some “sludge villain” incident that had occurred nearby, a thought hit you.

“Wait, was it… the sludge villain? Was that what got you here?” you asked, looking up to find his expression turn somber, yet resigned.

“Yeah,” he murmured, a shadow passing over his face. “It all happened so fast. I didn’t even see him coming. They said… All Might couldn’t get there in time.” He paused, then shrugged, as if he’d long made peace with it. “Guess it’s just the way it happened.”

You looked at him thoughtfully, and something in you softened. “You know… I think All Might was really sad about what happened to you.”

Izuku’s eyes went wide, almost panicked, like you’d just told him he’d accidentally disappointed a beloved friend. “S-sad? I didn’t want him to feel sad! I mean, All Might is my hero! He’s… he’s… I never wanted to make him feel like that. I was always cheering him on!”

You attempt to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, which failed as it phases right through. After a second try, you deem the gesture to be futile. “Hey, it’s okay. All Might probably knew that. And who knows? I bet he even came to your funeral.”

Izuku looked up, the panic giving way to a kind of hopeful wonder. “You… you think so?”

“Of course,” you said, grinning a bit. “And hey, maybe that ‘Kacchan’ guy you mentioned showed up too. You’re not as alone as you’d imagine, Greeny.”

He looked at you, eyes brimming with a strange mixture of gratitude and disbelief, as if no one had ever told him something like that before. “Thank you,” he whispered, voice soft and full of warmth. “For saying that. It… it actually means a lot.”

You shrugged it off, feeling a little flustered under his earnest gaze. “Yeah, well, can’t leave a ghost like you feeling down, right?”

Izuku chuckled, the sound light and unexpectedly comforting. “I guess not,” he agreed, eyes still shining with gratitude as he turned back to his notes, flipping to a fresh page. “You mind if I write down that you came back? I think… I think I’d like to remember it.” You nod.

"Yeah, sure you can."

From that moment on, he followed you like a quiet shadow, slipping into conversations, teasing you as much as you teased him, and reminding you of the friend you’d found in the most unexpected of places.

[javier-pena]

in plain sight, chapter ii

Pairing: Tommy Miller x f!reader | Joel Miller x Tess Servopoulos

Word Count: 9.7k (idk what happened there)

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Tommy invites you over to dinner and you meet a man you thought you'd never see again.

Warnings: mentions of food and alcohol |drug use (weed) | mention of complicated family dynamics | mention of a family member’s death | voyeurism | exhibitionism | lots of confusing feelings | a tiny bit of bi-curiosity | Joel is kind of a dick | ecouteurism | oral (f receiving) | some dirty talk | (brief) masturbation (f) | some possessiveness | fingering | (protected) p in v sex | light choking | overstimulation

Notes: I know that no one updates stories as slowly as I do, considering I posted the first chapter all the way back in February. But this fic is on my mind constantly, and the one thing I'm always thinking about is Tess. So I hope I did her justice in this chapter - at least Dani @alexturner thinks so 🤭 and no spoilers, but the next chapter is going to be wild, so stick around ...

[Chapter I] [Masterlist] [Chapter III]

***

“When will you be back?”

The question makes you roll your eyes. “I don’t know,” you answer with a sigh. “He’s making dinner … I don’t know what he has planned.”

Your sister glances at the tidy front lawn, the grass neatly cut and dark green in the evening light, and beyond it at the bungalow with its cream-colored façade and dark gray roof. Behind the windows, light is burning, but you don’t see any movement.

“If you’re going to be later than ten, don’t count on me to pick you up.”

“I’m sure Tommy will drive me,” you reassure her. Those logistics aren’t even on your mind – you’re not counting on going back home tonight.

“Well, have fun,” your sister says, the look on her face telling you she thinks you’ll have anything but.

“Thanks,” you reply, checking your makeup in the tiny mirror in the sun visor before climbing out of the car.

Your high heels clack loudly against the driveway as you make your way past Tommy’s red pickup and a black one that probably belongs to his brother up to the front door. You’re very aware of your sister’s gaze on you – at least she didn’t comment on your outfit this time, but you know she wanted to. The dress you’re wearing is longer than the one you had on the last time you met Tommy, but it’s still tight, even though the skirt is slightly flared. You went for an innocent, floral pattern, hoping it would keep your sister from commenting, and it did. Still, you were anxious the whole drive that she would turn the car around and make you get changed.

Before you ring Tommy’s doorbell, you turn around and wave at your sister, a broad smile on your face. The last thing you need is for her to see Tommy sticking his tongue down your throat because you wouldn’t hear the end of it. But she’s set on staying until you’re safely inside. With a small sigh, you ring the doorbell and await your fate.

“Wow,” is the first thing Tommy says when he opens the door. He’s wearing jeans and a checkered shirt, a big belt buckle with a snake on it, and he’s holding a dishtowel in one hand. As soon as he’s standing in front of you, nothing else matters. “You’re …,” you see him swallow hard. “You’re beautiful.”

“And you’re very –,” you start, but he interrupts you by grabbing your wrist and pulling you inside. As soon as the door closes behind you, he presses you up against it and claims your mouth like a starved man. You’re dimly aware of a car speeding off.

It’s so easy to get lost in him for a while. One of your hands finds his chest, the other the back of his head. This is such a new experience for you, that things between the two of you are never awkward. There is no, “Hi”, no, “How have you been?”, no hesitation as you’re trying to figure out if Tommy missed you as much as you missed him. Every single time you see him it feels like a lightning strike, and every single time he sees you he treats you like you’re the most important person in his life. It takes some getting used to that this summer fling feels like the most grown-up relationship you’ve ever had.

“I missed you too,” you tease once he lets go of you, and you watch a flush creep onto his cheeks.

Tommy takes your hand and leads you toward the kitchen. It’s only then that you notice the smell of a charcoal grill. “Do you want somethin’ to drink?” he asks you. “Beer? Wine? Water? Juice? I have some sodas too.”

You laugh. “I’ll have a beer,” you answer, then kiss his cheek. “Don’t be so nervous.”

“I’m not nervous,” he protests with a huff but hides his face behind the refrigerator door.

You walk to the kitchen window and glance outside at the tidy backyard framed by a low, brown picket fence. There’s an unlit firepit in one corner, a smoking charcoal grill in the other, and in the middle there’s a table, already set for four people. You thought you’d have Tommy all to yourself tonight.

“My brother Joel is havin’ dinner with us,” Tommy says, handing you an ice-cold beer bottle. “He’s bringin’ his girlfriend Tess along. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not,” you answer with a shake of your head, but the truth is you do. Well, some warning would have been nice, at least. Maybe you wouldn’t have worn a dress that displays quite so much of your back. Maybe you would have worn more sensible shoes. Maybe you would have told your sister to pick you up at ten. And maybe you wouldn’t have counted on a romantic dinner followed by mind-blowing sex.

“Joel’s older than you, right?” you ask, swallowing your disappointment.

“That’s right.” Tommy laughs. “Don’t call him older to his face though.” He lowers his voice. “I’m not older, I’m more mature.”

Just like that your disappointment vanishes into thin air. “It has to be quite a few years. I don’t remember him from high school.”

Tommy takes a swig from a half empty beer bottle on the counter. “That’s because he graduated before I started. He’s five years older.”

You nod, quickly doing the math in your head. He has to be almost thirty then. “And you work together?” you ask next, but the last two words get drowned out by the sound of an engine growling like a pack of wolves.

“That’s them!” Tommy quickly empties his beer bottle. “Let me check on dinner real quick.”

You stand there, watching him hurry off into the backyard. Should you follow? Should you pretend to be busy in the kitchen? Does he expect you to greet Joel and his girlfriend (Tina, was it?) on your own? In the end, you find yourself walking back toward the living room, straightening your dress, tightly clutching your beer bottle. Meeting Tommy’s big brother … it sounds so official, like you’re taking the next step in this relationship.

Outside the living room window, a motorbike has pulled up in the driveway. It’s big and black and chrome, long enough for two people to sit behind each other, loud enough to alert the whole neighborhood. A man and a woman sit astride it, he in front, she holding onto him. They’re both wearing dark leather jackets and dark helmets, and big heavy boots, and you never felt so overdressed and like a fish out of water. They’re going to take one look at you and think you’re a silly little girl.

No! You straighten your back. This goes both ways. They probably want to make a good first impression just as much as you want to.

The woman takes off her helmet first and undoes her low ponytail that kept her long, auburn hair out of her face during the drive. She’s … you wouldn’t call her “pretty” but she’s stunning in a way that makes your mouth go dry. When she runs her fingers through her hair and laughs at something Joel says you wish you could just disappear. No matter what you do, you could never compete with someone like her. But when Joel takes off his helmet you know wishing you could disappear won’t be enough. You’ll have to find a way to actually do it. Because you know this man, there’s no doubt about that. You could never forget those eyes and the way his gaze pierced into yours while he was fucking a woman you couldn’t see. This is going to be the worst night of your life.

Joel unzips his jacket, exposing a tight, white shirt underneath it, while his girlfriend waves to a neighbor on the opposite side of the street. Then she holds out her hand for Joel to take and they walk toward the front door; she’s chatting away while he watches her, a neutral expression on his face.

It’s like that one time you were eight years old and your mom picked you up early from school because lunch had made you throw up. She was driving home along the freeway, switching radio stations and checking your temperature with the back of her hand pressed against your forehead. The car in front of you suddenly swerved to the left and into another car. It lifted into the air, spun around, and crashed down on its roof. Your mom screamed and veered off to the right, avoiding the wreck but almost landing in the guard rail.

The funny thing was you could see it all happening in slow motion, convinced that if you just focused enough, you could skip forward and backward in time, maybe even prevent the accident altogether. You weren’t scared, you didn’t cry; you thought your mom was overreacting when she stopped the car on the side of the freeway, her hands trembling uncontrollably. Later, you found out you were in shock, and later still you couldn’t stop crying until you threw up for the second time that day.

You’re convinced now that if you just focus enough, you could make those two people outside Tommy’s front door walk back to the motorbike and drive off. All you need to do is close your eyes and …

The front door opens and heavy footfalls make the ground beneath you shake. “Tommy?” a deep voice shouts and you flinch. “Tommy?” it repeats and then, in a softer tone, Joel says, “Oh, hey.”

You open your eyes. Joel has taken off his jacket and discarded it over the back of the couch. He has placed his helmet on the windowsill and is now looking at you with mild surprise on his face. “Hey,” he repeats, and you’re not sure whether it’s a greeting or a complaint. Then he closes the distance between you, easily wrangles the beer from your grip with a, “Thanks, sweetheart,” and then walks off into the kitchen.

He doesn’t remember. You’re not sure if you should feel relieved or disappointed.

“Hi, I’m Tess.” His girlfriend kisses you twice, once on each cheek. You heard about people greeting each other like that in Europe, but still your face heats up. “Don’t mind him, he’s annoyed because he just lost a bet.”

“What kind of bet?” you ask, the sound of your breathy voice foreign in your ears.

Tess takes off her jacket and places it on top of Joel’s before answering. “I bet him ten dollars you’d be pretty,” she says with a big smile. “He lost because he thinks no pretty girl in her right mind would go out with his brother.”

Then she takes your arm and leads you toward the backyard and the two men waiting for you.

*******

He doesn’t remember … but how could he not? How could last Friday not have meant anything to him? Shit! Does it mean something to you? It shouldn’t, should it? No, it definitely shouldn’t. But still, you wish he’d give you just one sign that he remembers.

Or maybe you’ve got it wrong. Maybe Joel isn’t the man from the other pick-up truck at all. Maybe Tommy has another brother, maybe he’s Joel’s identical twin. No, that’s ridiculous, this isn’t one of those soap operas your mom loves to watch. No one in real life has an evil twin.

“What are you smirkin’ at?” Tommy asks, handing you a bowl of potato salad.

Your cheeks heat up. “Nothing.”

Joel is the man from the other car, you’re certain about that. You keep coming back to how his eyes looked that night, how they look fixed on you now. It has to be him. Even though he’s relaxed and there’s an easy smile on his face, Joel looks at you as if he wants to see inside of you, right to your very core, and figure you out. And if he isn’t the man from the car, why would he be doing that?

And if he is, why did he brush you aside earlier?

You slump back in your chair. What were you expecting? Did you want him to say, “Oh, it’s you! Tess, it’s the girl who watched us fuck last week, do you remember?” Of course not. You want to forget the whole thing, pretend it never happened. It’s bad enough you let it happen in the first place, but it’s even worse now you know who that stranger is … he’s no stranger at all, he’s your boyfriend’s brother.

Boyfriend? Where did that come from?

“You okay?” Tommy squeezes your hand. “You barely touched your food.”

“I know what’s the matter,” Joel announces, and your entire body freezes up. You hear the blood rushing in your ears. “Now that she’s seen my bike, she’s realized she’s dating the wrong Miller brother.”

“Joel!” Tess protests, but laughs. Is she mocking you? She is, isn’t she?

Tommy rolls his eyes. “A man needs more than a bike to make him interestin’.”

“Like what?” Joel challenges. When Tommy opens his mouth, he quickly adds, “No, never mind, whatever it is you ain’t got it.”

Tommy lets go of your hand (you hadn’t even realized he was still holding it) and turns to Tess, who is sitting opposite you. She’s trying to hide a smirk, but she’s failing miserably. “Tess, please control my brother.”

“I’m sorry they’re like that,” Tess says, ignoring Tommy. “You’ll get used to it though.”

Joel turns to you. “Do you have siblings?”

You sit up so fast you bump your knee into the table and topple over your beer bottle. “Shit!” you swear. “Sorry. Let me –,” but Tess stands up.

“Don’t worry about it.” And she’s off to the kitchen.

You don’t want her to clean up your mess so you make to follow her, but Joel pins you in place with a glare. “Well? Do you?”

“Do I what?” you ask, watching Tess come back with a roll of paper towels.

“Siblings,” Tommy says with a laugh. Then he turns to Joel. “Yes, she has an older sister. She’s even less of a people person than you.”

“Well, this one could do with a little loosening up herself.” Joel nods toward you.

Your stomach curls tight with annoyance, but before you can say anything, Tommy replies, “She’s pretty loose, thank you.”

Tess, mopping up your spilled beer, throws you a pitying glance. “Guys, stop embarrassing her.”

“They’re not,” you say quickly, but it gets swallowed by Tommy shouting, “I’m embarrassin’ her?”

Joel winks at you and you wish the ground beneath your chair would open up and swallow you whole. He has to remember, right? And he’s tormenting you to test you or to get you to crack. You just can’t figure out why.

You clear your throat. “I have two older sisters,” you say, and when Tommy raises his eyebrows in surprise, you quickly add, “One lives in Europe, and I never get to see her. My parents … they had a falling out, and she doesn’t talk to any of us.”

Tess squeezes your shoulder sympathetically before going back to the kitchen to discard the used paper towels. Tommy and Joel glance at each other, unsure of what to say. You didn’t mean to make them feel uncomfortable with your complicated family dynamics, but you do feel some subdued glee at their speechlessness.

When Tess comes back, none of you have said anything yet. “I think every good family should have drama,” she says, sitting down in Joel’s lap instead of her chair. “There’s no point in surrounding yourself with boring people.”

Joel tickles her and she squeals. “Says the only child whose parents would do anything for her.”

You look at Tommy, a question on your lips, one you haven’t asked yet because it didn’t seem important in the whirlwind of the last few weeks. But before you can ask it, Tess changes the subject.

“So, how’s college?”

This time, you manage not to jump out of your skin when being addressed. “How do you know I’m in college?”

“Because Tommy boy can’t shut up about you,” Joel answers, flicking a potato wedge at his brother.

“Hey!” Tommy protests loudly, but to you it sounds like he’s far away, maybe somewhere below water. You try to focus on something solid, like the plate in front of you, but everything is blurry. You’re feeling about a million feelings at once, and yet your inside is an empty void that is longing for something to fill it. Tommy has been talking about you to Joel and Tess. A lot, apparently. And yet here you are, your head spinning from the cocky way Joel teases his brother, the protective way he holds onto Tess, longing for his attention on you. This is wrong.

“It’s good,” you answer Tess’ question, taking a sip from a fresh bottle of beer that makes you cough.

“That’s it?” Tess asks. “What are you studying? Where do you live? Do you have a college boyfriend who dreams about you raising his babies?”

You laugh loudly and Tess beams. “I don’t know what Tommy told you about me, but one man is about as much as I can handle.” You smile at Tommy. “He’s all I need.” Tommy’s chest swells with pride. “But I live in a dorm, and I want to go on to law school.”

“Wow.” Tess sounds genuinely impressed, but there’s a strange glint in her eyes. “We have to watch what we say around you then.”

“As if the law has ever kept you from doing what you want,” Joel teases.

“Oh, shut up.” Tess laughs and kisses him, hard, a hand in his dark curls. Joel’s eyes flutter shut, and your stomach flutters in response.

Tommy clears his throat and you jump. “We have company.”

Tess bites Joel’s bottom lip and you think you hear him growl. “What are you, my mom?”

For some reason, Tommy’s comment rubbed you the wrong way. You’re not a child. You can handle two people kissing in front of you. “I’ve been to frat parties,” you laugh. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Tess lets go of Joel’s hair. “Really? What was it like? I always wanted to go to one.”

“They can be fun,” you answer cautiously, glancing at Tommy. “But they’re also … if you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all.”

“So they’re not like in the movies?” Tess presses. “You know, strippers and booze and then someone draws a gun?”

Joel turns to her, one eyebrow cocked. “What kind of movies are you watching?”

“Never you mind.” She pats his cheek.

“There are no strippers and no guns,” you answer seriously as if you’re used to answering questions like that. “But there’s a lot of alcohol. That’s why they’re all the same. People get drunk, punch each other, and then throw up.”

“Sounds like a typical Tuesday night for us, doesn’t it, Joel?” Tommy winks at his big brother.

“Can you take me to a frat party?” Tess asks suddenly. You’re not sure if she’s mocking you, but her face is serious.

“I …,” you start slowly, not sure what to say.

“Oh, come on.” Tess laughs. “You’ll be the most popular girl, bringing a cool older woman like me.”

Now that you know she’s mocking you, it’s easy for you to play along. “I don’t think those frat boys are into older women,” you say with an apologetic smile.

Tess’ mouth falls open. “You’re just gonna let her talk to me like that?” she asks, turning to Joel.

Joel shrugs, then looks directly at you. The hairs at the back of your neck stand up. “I like her. I think she’s funny.”

*******

“Sorry about my brother,” Tommy says, a crooked smile on his lips. “And Tess.”

It’s later. You’ve moved from the backyard into the living room. The heat of the June day still lingers in the slight headache you have, but it’s nice and cool inside. Still, your cheeks feel hot to the touch and you’re lightheaded, your heart hammering in your chest, even as your head is comfortably resting against Tommy’s shoulder. It’s the heat, you tell yourself. Nothing more. Certainly not Tommy’s brother who watched you come a week ago and doesn’t even remember it.

You laugh. “It’s alright. I like them.”

You do. It’s not important that your stomach curls tightly whenever Tess touches Joel. That’s an understandable, reasonable reaction, one no one could blame you for, one you can easily ignore. It’s not important. It doesn’t matter. What’s more important is the fact that you’ve survived the dinner without embarrassing yourself, that the panic you felt when recognizing Joel was completely unfounded. You did well, all things considered, and there is absolutely no reason why Tommy should ever find out about your little secret.

You lean in closer to him. “Do you think Tess likes me?” you ask.

He shifts against your cheek. “What makes you say that?”

“She was making fun of me, right? When she asked me to take her to a frat party?”

Now it’s Tommy’s turn to laugh. “No, she was completely serious. Tess has a very … direct way that makes her sound like she’s not being serious. But believe me, you’d notice if she wouldn’t like you. She’s also very direct with that.”

“And Joel?” you ask carefully.

Tommy slings his arm around your shoulder and pulls you closer. “Joel is … he’s … he’s very protective of me. It’s annoying, believe me, but it always takes him a while to warm up when I bring someone home.”

Your heart stutters. “Protective? How?”

“He doesn’t want me to get hurt. As if I can’t take care of myself.”

“Has that happened before?” you ask carefully, but you might as well have asked the wall. Tommy doesn’t reply, he doesn’t even shake his head or shrug his shoulders. Maybe that’s a conversation for another time.

“I think I’m gonna get myself another beer,” Tommy finally says, and shifts to get up.

“No,” you protest. “Let me. I wanted to get one for myself anyway.”

You stand, and Tommy smirks up at you. “I could get used to that.”

“Well, don’t.” You give him a quick peck on the lips. “I’ll be right back.”

You make your way to the kitchen, taking pleasure in Tommy’s wistful sigh as you walk out of sight. He probably has been hurt in the past, you decide, but that doesn’t stop him from opening himself up to another person. Is that fun summer fling you wanted to have about to get much more serious than you had planned? At the threshold to the kitchen, you turn around to look back at Tommy lounging on the couch and return his soft smile. You’re not prepared for anything more serious between the two of you, but that doesn’t mean you can’t do your best to treat Tommy right.

The kitchen isn’t empty. Tess is standing by the sink, taking care of the dishes. Maybe you should feel bad for not having offered to help her, but it’s obvious your help isn’t wanted. Behind Tess there’s Joel, pressing his chest into her back, holding her tightly against his body. Tess makes a sound somewhere between a laugh and a moan when Joel nuzzles her neck and simultaneously moves an open palm downward against her stomach. You stop, your smile frozen on your lips, your hands cold and clammy, balled into fists against your sides. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before (and what is there to see, really?), but you should leave or make your presence known at the very least. You don’t.

Joel bites down onto Tess’ neck and she gasps. You almost do too, but the sound gets stuck in your throat. Joel’s other hand finds its way to Tess’ throat and he lightly closes his fingers around it, moving her head to the side so he has better access to her neck. Her neck disappears under his broad palm and big fingers and your chest tightens with adrenaline. You hadn’t noticed the size of his hands before but suddenly it’s all you can think about. That, and what it would feel like to have them around your neck, to feel the callouses on his fingers against your skin, to feel the heat radiating off of him.

With a low growl, Joel presses his crotch against Tess’ backside and she sighs. You feel both sounds all over your body; it’s as if Joel and Tess aren’t caressing each other but you. You wonder what it would feel like to … You take a step forward and bump your foot into a box that’s stowed against the wall. Its contents rattle insistently and Tess straightens her back, her head snapping in your direction.

You can’t read the look on her face but you know you’d feel embarrassed if someone caught you and Tommy in such an intimate situation.

“Joel,” she says. Is it a warning?

Maybe he doesn’t hear her, or maybe he doesn’t care, but he doesn’t stop. The hand that’s been resting against Tess’ stomach moves lower and lower, and you can’t really tell from where you’re standing but it looks like his fingers are disappearing inside her jeans. And she’s still looking at you, her green eyes sharp in the dim kitchen light. What should you do? Stay and watch? You almost laugh at the ridiculousness of that idea, pushing aside an ever-growing desire to do just that, but there’s also something else – an irritation bordering on jealousy that you have no right to be feeling. The smart thing to do here would be to avert your gaze, get the beers from the fridge, and leave.

But then two things happen at once and you can’t move a single muscle in your body.

The first one is that Joel’s fingers inside Tess’ pants must’ve reached their destination and she moans, her eyes still locked to yours. Then she nods at you and smiles and you think … you think she might be telling you to join them. That thought terrifies you. You won’t cheat on your boyfriend who’s waiting for you only a room away, but there is an insistent pressure between your legs that’s harder and harder to ignore.

The second thing that happens is that Joel whispers in Tess’ ear, loud enough for you to hear. “I know, baby. You’re doing so well. You’re drenched, do you know that?” The way he says drenched captures your attention much more than Tess’ presumed invitation ever could. He knows you’re there, he must know it, and yet he … A hungry, growling desire awakens in you and you realize that no matter how hard you try, you can’t play down the encounter in the parking lot; you can’t even walk away from this, even if it would be so easy.

“Joel …” Tess’ eyes flutter shut when he cups one of her breasts with his big hand.

You want to say his name too, want to make him look at you, but then Tess’ fingers go slack and she drops the cutlery she’s been holding into the sink. It hits the steel with loud clanks and shakes you out of your stupor. Hot shame rolls through your stomach and up into your throat, settling there in the form of a lump. You stumble toward the fridge on unsteady legs like a newborn fawn, ignoring Tess’ giggles and Joel’s breathless pants that could also be a chuckle. You grab two beer bottles and rush out of the kitchen without looking back.

The last thing you hear is Tess saying, “Shit, Joel. Do you think we scared her?” and Joel replying, “Who cares?”

*******

The joint between your lips helps you relax and you sink deeper into the couch, hoping it will swallow you up. Tommy takes it from you and takes a drag, sighing happily. It doesn’t matter, really, that Joel and Tess don’t like you, that they were trying to rile you up. Let them think you’re young and stupid and inexperienced. What does it matter to you? You giggle and pull Tommy, who was just trying to pass the joint to Joel, toward you. You take it back instead and inhale deeply.

“Careful, darlin’.” Tommy laughs. “Ain’t no need to impress me.”

You ignore him and kiss him instead, letting him taste the sweet aroma of the weed on your lips. He returns your kiss but takes the joint from you and finally passes it on to Joel who’s sitting on a chaise longue, legs spread widely, Tess on his lap. You don’t know what happened between them after you left the kitchen, but the flush on Tess’ cheeks when they finally emerged left no room for imagination. You feel a stab of jealousy.

“First time?” Joel asks you with a smirk.

You shake your head. “I’m not as innocent as you think.”

Joel’s eyes glide over your body, from your relaxed eyelids down to your exposed thighs where your dress has ridden up your legs. “Who said anything about innocent?”

“I know you think I’m young and stupid.” Under different circumstances, the words might have sounded like you were hurt but the big smile you can’t seem to turn off softens the blow.

Joel laughs, and it sounds real. At least the flutter in your stomach is real. “I don’t,” he says. “But it’s funny you should think that.” He places his hand possessively on Tess’ knee and Tess leans into him. “I’m just making sure you’re alright. And that you’re not getting yourself into a situation you can’t handle.”

You wrinkle your nose. “I can handle more than you think.”

“Oh, I’d like to see that,” Joel teases.

Next to you, Tommy sighs. “Can you flirt with your own girlfriend, please?”

Your reaction to the weed dampens the feeling of shame that would have consumed you had you been sober. Joel tightens his hold on Tess and Tess closes her eyes, a happy smile on her lips. Is she saying, “He’s mine”? He is, that’s obvious. She doesn’t have to rub it in though. Wait. Why do you care? You’re with Tommy … you don’t care who Joel is fucking.

“If that’s flirting to you, I’m surprised you got her to agree to go out with you,” Joel retorts.

Her … why does your stomach flutter when he talks about you like you’re not in the room? You turn to Tommy, a seductive smile on your lips … or at least you hope it looks like that. “Tommy’s very good at flirting … he had me wrapped around his little finger in no time.”

Tommy kisses you and you close your eyes to focus on the glide of his lips against yours. He manages to sneak a hand between your shoulders and the backrest of the couch, and cups the back of your head, pressing you closer to him. You melt, forgetting why you felt so irritated and somewhat lost only a few seconds ago.

But then Joel’s voice bursts your warm and happy bubble. “That’s just because you’ve never dated a real man before.”

“Joel,” Tess warns, but you’re already confronting him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, your chin raised in defiance.

Joel’s eyes flicker with triumph at how easy it is to get a rise out of you, and you wish you had ignored him. But it’s too late to go back to making out with Tommy and pretending you haven’t heard him.

“You’re what … 19? How many boyfriends have you had? And they were probably kids like you.”

Your face heats up with anger but before you can say, “Why is everyone so obsessed with my dating history?” Tommy snaps, “That’s enough, Joel.”

You watch as Joel’s shoulders tense and for a moment you expect him to ignore his brother but then he laughs. “I’m just messing with her.”

For some reason, you focus on Tess’ confused face – not Tommy sinking back against the cushions or Joel’s raised palms. She looks as lost as you feel.

“Wouldn’t hurt you to be nice for a change,” Tommy grumbles.

Tess leans forward and extends her hand holding the joint out to you. You take it from her with a grateful smile, your hands briefly touching over the coffee table. “Thanks,” you whisper.

“Tommy’s right,” Tess says and looks down at her boyfriend. “Relax, Joel.” And before Joel can protest, her hand is on his jaw and she kisses him. Just like before, his eyes flutter shut, and just as before, your stomach flutters in response. You ignore it, the irritation you feel now palpable in a pressure on your chest.

“He ain’t always like that.” Tommy’s voice is low as he plucks the joint straight out from between your lips. “He’s –”

“Hey!” you protest. “I wasn’t done with that yet.”

Tommy only smirks at you, takes a drag, then passes it on to Joel. “He’s quite nice once you get to know him.”

Joel snorts. “You make me sound like a dog.”

“Well, you’re behaving like one,” you snap.

Everyone turns to you and you clap a hand over your mouth in shock. You hadn’t meant to say that out loud, hadn’t even meant to think it. It must be the weed talking. Or the alcohol. But you haven’t had much of either.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, bracing yourself for the inevitable cruel response.

Joel only laughs, his chest vibrating, head thrown back. “Please, you have nothing to apologize for,” he snorts between two laughing fits. Tess smiles, whether at your discomfort or his amusement you can’t tell. Tommy puts one possessive arm around your shoulders. Joel manages to catch his breath eventually. “Where did you find her, Tommy?”

When Tommy doesn’t respond, you turn to him. His face has gone dark, and you feel like you’re missing something. “Joel, that’s enough,” he repeats and you don’t quite understand what’s going on.

Joel sighs. “Oh, come on, Tommy.” He drags on the joint with practice movement, then passes it on to Tess without looking at her.

After that, everyone is quiet. Is it your fault? Is Joel angrier at you than he lets on? But why is Tommy staring at his older brother like he’s planning on slashing the tires of Joel’s truck later? You don’t quite know how to save the evening but you have to try.

“We went to high school together actually,” you answer Joel’s question. You lean into Tommy. “I had the biggest crush on him but he never noticed me.”

Joel smirks mockingly, but it’s over in a flash. “He can’t keep his eyes off you now.”

A warm tingling sensation crawls down your spine. “Well, he ain’t half bad to look at himself.”

“He has your full attention then?” There’s something in the way he says it that makes your blood run cold. And for the first time since Joel walked in through the front door this evening you wonder if he might remember after all.

“I enjoy every minute I spend with him, if that’s what you mean,” you answer.

Before Joel can make things worse, Tess climbs off his lap and stands. “I’m going to the bathroom.” Then she looks at you. “Are you coming?” she says with such authority you don’t even have time to think about it before you find yourself following her down the hallway.

Tess pulls you into the bathroom and closes the door behind you. “Listen to me,” she starts. “I love Joel but he can be an asshole. Especially where Tommy is concerned. I don’t know if Tommy has told you this, but their parents died young and Joel feels responsible for him. He thinks no girl is good enough for Tommy. Ignore him. I can see the way Tommy looks at you. Everyone can.”

You’re stunned into silence by Tess’ words, but the longer you wait to say something, the denser the tension between you grows. “We’re just having fun,” is what finally comes out of your mouth.

“And Tommy knows that?” Tess presses.

“We haven’t talked about it yet.” Or have you? You don’t remember everything you said to him in the heat of the moment. “But I’m going back to college in the fall.”

“No one is trying to keep you here,” Tess assures you. “And if Tommy is just after a summer romance, then that’s none of Joel’s business. Just be honest with him. And don’t hurt him.”

“I wasn’t planning to.” Then why does guilt gnaw at your conscience?

Tess smiles at you softly, unaware of the churning in your stomach. “I know you weren’t. Just don’t dump Tommy because his big brother was weird to you.” She grabs one of your hands and squeezes it. Then she opens the door and winks at you. “But I know you’re too smart for that anyway.”

You have a few seconds, no more, to try and make sense of it all. You fail. Your feelings are all over the place and you wish you could sit down somewhere quiet for a few hours and sort through them. Why does it feel like everyone expects certain things from you and you can’t seem to keep them in their place because you have no idea what you want yourself? When did this summer fling get so serious?

Before you can find an answer for just one of these questions, Tommy is calling for you, and you make your way back to the living room, your heart hammering in your chest.

*******

You wake up with a start. At first, you think you’re back in your college dorm, but your surroundings don’t make sense. The dresser is standing against the wrong wall, the window isn’t where it’s supposed to be, the bed is so big … and you’re not sleeping in it alone. You’re at Tommy’s place! The world rights itself as you regain your sense of direction. It’s so dark in Tommy’s bedroom that you can barely make out the shapes of the objects around you. It must still be the middle of the night or very early in the morning, but you can’t be certain.

Your head hurts, your mouth is sticky with thirst, and you have no memory of how you ended up in Tommy’s bed. You remember that dinner, you remember Tess asking you to be careful not to hurt Tommy, you remember Tommy’s hand under the hem of your dress, his hand climbing higher and higher, the way Joel looked at you … You inhale sharply, and Tommy stirs but doesn’t wake up.

You need to get some water. Once you’re not thirsty anymore, it’ll be easier to make sense of it all. Carefully, you climb out of the bed, your eyes glued to Tommy’s naked chest to make sure you don’t wake him. The last thing you need is some deep talk at 2 AM that has you making promises you can’t keep just because the late hour makes you feel closer to Tommy than ever before. Tommy sleeps on though, even when you open the bedroom door with a creak that makes you jump.

Outside, the dark hallway reminds you of how unfamiliar you are with Tommy’s house. Yes, this isn’t your first time sleeping here, but the last time you weren’t trying to find the kitchen in the middle of the night, sneaking around the house like a burglar. Maybe Tommy’s bathroom is the safer option if you don’t want to wake everyone. You remember it being on the right of Tommy’s bedroom.

You haven’t taken more than three steps before you hear it – the creaking of a bedframe. At first you think Tommy has woken up but he doesn’t call out for you. And then you realize the creaking is coming from the other bedroom – Joel’s bedroom.

No! It’s no business of yours to find out what’s going on behind that door, no business at all. You’re going to get some water and then you’re going back to bed. For once you’re going to follow your sensible brain and not …

There is a soft moan your body immediately responds to by setting butterflies loose in your stomach. The voice that says, “No,” is fighting, but it’s growing weaker. Your hand on the bathroom doorknob feels sweaty but you make no motion to turn it, listening into the quietness of the house. For a short while, everything remains quiet and you think maybe all you heard was someone moving in their sleep. You feel a hot wave of embarrassment when you realize you’re disappointed – what is wrong with you? You should feel relieved instead.

It’s the drugs and the alcohol that make you feel and think and act like this. Once you’ve sobered up, everything else will be fine. One hand pressed against the bathroom door to prevent any creaking when you open it, you finally turn the knob, suddenly missing the warmth and comfort of Tommy’s bed. Just a quick glass of water and then you’ll be back with him, falling asleep in an instant.

It’s not the creaking or the moaning that makes you halt in the doorframe, but it’s the deep rumble of Joel’s voice this time. You can’t make out the words, but they still make you freeze, dry up your throat and set your heart pounding. There is no way you will be able to ignore that, not with your mind still clouded and your body humming with a desire impossible to control.

The bathroom door quivers when you let go of the knob but doesn’t fall shut. Nothing seems to be moving in the house except you, as you carefully tiptoe to Joel’s bedroom door. You don’t know what it looks like, that room behind it. Tommy didn’t include it in the house tour and you’re not one to snoop. You giggle at how wrong you were about yourself, but there’s no merriment in it, just a dry realization. There is only so much you can blame on drugs and alcohol.

“You like that, don’t you?”

Joel’s voice hits you in the pit of your stomach like a bullet. Before you know what you’re doing, your ear is pressed against the thin plywood, eager to hear more.

Tess’ answer is an appreciative moan that rushes down your back in a pleasant shiver. The bedframe creaks again before she sighs, “Oh, Joel! Fuck!” and then gasps as if coming up for air.

You almost gasp too, but the sound gets stuck in your throat when you hear Joel chuckle. “You’re making this too easy for me.”

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” Tess begs, and in her eagerness makes it all sound like one long word.

What comes next is a series of wet sounds mixed in with Tess’ moans and pants. It’s only when Joel moans too, and it’s a muffled sound that you realize what it is they’re doing. You press and open palm against the door to steady yourself while your other hand hangs down at your side, your fingers flexing eagerly. Your core feels like it’s on fire and when Tess sighs, “Yes, yes,” and Joel growls like he’s too far gone for human sounds, you whimper desperately. But you won’t touch yourself, no matter what, you won’t …

“No, no, no, Joel, don’t stop,” Tess suddenly groans and Joel replies, “I don’t want you to come yet. You taste like heaven.”

Maybe a stronger woman would be able to walk away from this. Maybe a stronger woman wouldn’t press her fingers against her clothed clit and swallow a dry sob of relief. Maybe a stronger woman would feel guilt and shame. But you’re not that woman. And you have never felt this alive.

Tess whimpers and groans and the bedframe creaks and creaks. Joel is eerily quiet now except for the occasional sigh. And you don’t dare to move; only when you hear his voice do you press your fingers tighter against your clit. It makes you feel closer to him.

Tess’ moans are slowly but surely reaching another crescendo, the bedframe seems to be fighting for its life, and you exhale shakily when –

“Do you like what you hear?”

You twist around so fast your elbow bumps into Joel’s door, but they don’t hear the noise or they don’t care, because the sounds don’t die down.

“Tommy,” you whisper, your face burning with the shame and guilt you were supposed to feel earlier.

He’s leaning against the doorframe of his own bedroom door, arms crossed in front of his chest, hair rumpled from sleeping. He doesn’t look angry or disappointed or disgusted. Instead, there’s a cocksure grin on his face that you can’t read properly in the darkness of the hallway.

“Again, darlin’, do you like what you hear?” he repeats.

Your throat is completely dry and you don’t dare to move, afraid your legs might give way if you do. Tess’ moans fill the silence between Tommy and you; they heat up your cheeks and make it impossible for you to form a single, coherent thought. A single, coherent thought that would get you out of this situation unscathed that is.

“Yes,” you answer breathlessly, as if you just climbed innumerable flights of stairs. Your heart beats as if you did, too.

The cocksure grin on Tommy’s face doesn’t flicker. “Thought so,” he says with a superior tone, as if he just proved a point. “Knew you weren’t as innocent as all that.”

You wish he would keep his voice down. “But it’s not what you think it is.”

“It’s exactly what I think it is.” He takes a few steps toward you until you feel trapped between his body in front of you and the lewd sounds behind you. “I’m sure they’d let you watch if you asked.”

That same terror you felt in the kitchen earlier grabs a hold of you again. “I don’t –” you start but Tommy interrupts you.

“You’re allowed to want that,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, breath hot. “Doesn’t mean I’m willing to share you.” His hand closes tightly around your wrist and when he pulls you toward his own bedroom with sure steps, you stumble after him. The moans have stopped and, with a slight irritation, you realize you miss them. When you pause to close the door behind you, Tommy takes your other hand in his and shakes his head. “Leave it.” Those two words send a bolt of excitement through you, the irritation forgotten.

Tommy pushes you onto the bed, not forcefully but not gently either, and you lie there, propped up on your elbows, watching him. His naked chest is heaving, and even though his words were nothing but steady, a storm is brewing inside of him. A shiver runs down your spine as he pushes back his hair with both hands, his eyes flickering lower to where you let your knees fall open for him.

“You’re so fuckin’ hot,” he sighs, falling onto his knees at the foot of the bed.

You’ve been called other things before, more eloquent things, but never before have you actually believed those words. With Tommy it’s different. With Tommy, you feel like he means what he says and isn’t just using lines on you that he picked up from a bad porn movie. You take off your underwear without him having to ask.

His left hand lands on top of your right thigh, his skin warm against yours, the callouses on his thumb brushing against one of the most sensitive spots of your body. You flex your fingers, fighting hard to keep your hips steady. With his right thumb, Tommy brushes all the way from your opening through your drenched folds up to your clit in a slow pace, as if he’s cataloguing every inch along the way. Self-consciously, you trap a desperate groan in your chest by biting down hard on your bottom lip.

Tommy laughs incredulously. “You’re drenched, you know that?”

It’s not the first time tonight you hear those words, the memory making your hips twitch against Tommy’s grip. You nod.

“Should I be jealous?” he asks and you sit up so fast something in your neck cracks.

“No!” you blurt.

Tommy chuckles. “I’m just teasin’ you. Nothin’ wrong with a bit of healthy competition.”

Maybe your attraction to Joel isn’t all that bad, you think, lying back down, eyes firmly fixed on the dark ceiling. Maybe it’s something Tommy wants to encourage even.

Tommy’s thumb is circling your clit now, and you feel yourself clenching around nothing. With a soft moan, you try to relax against the mattress but can’t stop yourself from listening for sounds from the other bedroom.

“Relax, darlin’.” Tommy presses a soft kiss against the side of your knee, then rests his cheek against it. “Let me hear how much you’re enjoyin’ yourself.” Then he adds, under his breath, “Let them hear.”

When he pushes a finger into you, you groan loudly, but immediately bite down on your wrist to stifle that sound.

“Come now, none of that,” Tommy says. “Don’t you want to get back at them?”

There is something in the way he says it that makes you pause. For a few moments, you allow yourself to imagine Tess, lying in Joel’s arms, giggling at something funny he just said, the sounds dying in her throat when she hears you groan. Maybe she would tell Joel to be quiet, startled by your gall, maybe Joel would pretend not to care but secretly commit every single one of your sighs to memory, no matter how little. Maybe he’d even be impressed with you, telling Tess, “Sounds like Tommy finally has a fun girlfriend”.

What you want him to be, though, is jealous.

Tommy adds a second finger and this time you don’t try to stifle the sound that escapes you. You shift, so Tommy can reach deeper, transfixed by the wet sounds of his fingers moving between your legs. You meet Tommy’s thrusts with small rolls of your hips, eager for friction, panting under your breath. Your forehead feels clammy with sweat, the air in the room is stifling, but you don’t care about any of that when Tommy licks from where his fingers are buried inside of you up to your clit, the sensation of his mustache brushing against your most sensitive spots overwhelming.

Still, you’re not all there. Your ears keep straining to hear sounds from the room across the hall, any sounds. You’d be happy with a door creaking in its hinges. At the same time, you’re reluctant to give voice to the pleasure you’re feeling, no matter what Tommy told you, no matter how much you want to be that girlfriend. What if Tess isn’t impressed? What if Joel isn’t jealous? What if they’re over there, laughing at you? What if –

“Darlin’,” Tommy mumbles from between your legs, “you’re thinkin’ so loud I can barely focus.”

“Sorry.” You shift with a sigh, forcing your thoughts to focus on Tommy’s fingers in a way that usually makes you turn into an incoherent mess. Tommy kisses your thigh, the prickle of his mustache making you squirm. “Don’t you ever apologize to me. Just tell me what you need.”

To your annoyance, his kindness makes your eyes sting with tears. “I don’t know,” you whimper.

“Close your eyes,” Tommy orders.

You do as you’re told. The loss of one sense makes your others heighten immediately, especially your hearing. To both your relief and disappointment, you don’t hear any sounds from Joel’s room.

“Stop thinking.” Tommy chuckles. “Tell me how this feels.”

He changes the angle his fingers push into you, stretching you with each slow thrust. It feels amazing. You tell him so.

“Shhhh,” Tommy makes. “Don’t use your words. Tell me with your body.”

“I don’t –,” you start, but he interrupts you.

“Yes, you know how. Just give it a try.”

It’s only then that you realize how desperate you are for him to hold you in place and make you take whatever he gives you. That thought alone is enough to make you shiver.

“Good,” Tommy encourages you. “Now –”

It’s your turn to interrupt him. “Hold me down,” you say so fast it makes it sound like just one word.

Tommy obliges you immediately, pushing you down, palm planted firmly on your hip. You groan in response, your worries from earlier only a dim memory at the back of your mind.

“You like that, huh?” He gives you three vicious thrusts before slowing down again, leaving you gasping for breath.

You sigh in confirmation, but your voice breaks in the middle of the sound, making it come out like a sob. Your hips twitch against Tommy’s hold, eager to meet his thrusts halfway.

“Stop moving.” Tommy squeezes you hard. “You’ll take what I give you.”

Your responding moan is loud enough to make Tommy lose his rhythm, but not loud enough to satisfy him.

“We could do a bit better, don’t you think?”

You shake your head. “I don’t know.” You feel the pressure of a mounting orgasm brushing against the base of your spine. Your heart is beating so loudly, all the way up into your throat, that you couldn’t hear any sounds from the other bedroom even if you tried.

Suddenly, Tommy’s fingers are gone, and so is the hand on your hip. You sob with longing. “Tommy …”

“I’m here,” he mumbles, climbing onto the bed. “Just give me a sec.”

You watch as he rolls a condom onto his completely hard cock, and swallow hard. For some reason, the evidence of how much he’s enjoying this leaves you speechless. Still kneeling, he pulls you toward him and right onto his lap. He’s so much bigger than two of his fingers, but in your heightened state of arousal him pushing you down onto his cock barely scratches a superficial itch.

“It’s your turn now.” Tommy’s smile rekindles the prickling at the base of your spine.

You roll your hips tentatively and immediately feel the pressure mount. Tommy’s eyes flutter shut and he groans, a sound you can feel deep within your core.

“Fuck.” The word slips out from between your lips before you can stop it. And Tommy’s eyes fly open.

“What was that?” he growls.

Now it’s your turn to ask, “You like that?”

Tommy wraps his hand around your throat, framing your jaw with his thumb and forefinger. You roll your hips faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the bedroom. You don’t need him to reply; you know the answer already.

Tommy brushes his thumb along your bottom lip and then pushes it into your mouth, pressing it down against your tongue. Eagerly, you close your lips and suck on it, watching as Tommy’s eyes widen in surprise. The air between you is so heavy you can feel it weigh you down and you lose your rhythm, your hips stuttering.

With a jerk, Tommy pulls his thumb out of your mouth. “Look at you.” He tightens his hold on your throat, making you gasp for air, before pushing his index and middle finger back into your mouth. When you taste yourself on his skin, you moan, a sound that turns into a gag when he brushes his fingers against the back of your throat. “Joel is wrong. There’s nothin’ innocent about you.”

The mention of his brother catches you by surprise, as does that moan that rises out of your chest when you imagine Joel looking at you with condescension in his eyes. Luckily, Tommy flicks your clit with his thumb at the same time, giving you an excuse for the lewd sound you’re making.

Tommy eagerly licks his lips. “Louder,” he demands. “I don’t care that they’re in the other room.”

You wrap your hand around Tommy’s arm to steady yourself, your body screaming for release. All you manage is a soft moan, muffled by the fingers pressing down on your tongue.

“You can do better than that.” The note of condescension in his voice makes you clench around his cock. “Let them hear how well I’m fucking you.”

With a sob, your head falls forward, your forehead connecting to Tommy’s almost painfully. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth while rolling your clit under his thumb at the same time, and you lose yourself in whines and groans and pleas that don’t make any sense. You can’t even tell if you’re being loud enough for Tommy, if they hear you across the hall, but just the thought that they might, so daunting a short while ago, finally pushes you over the edge. All you know with absolute certainty is that you scream Tommy’s name when you come, loud enough to wake the whole neighborhood, and that he fucks you through it relentlessly, lowering you down with one smooth motion until your back is pressed into the mattress and he pounds into you with desperate thrusts.

“Tommy,” you groan, holding onto his hips. It’s too much; you want him to stop but you can’t form a single, coherent thought. “Tommy, I don’t …” You feel raw, coming down from the high of your orgasm, but he isn’t done with you yet.

“You’re mine,” he growls into your ear. “Say it.”

Despite your guardedness when it comes to this relationship between Tommy and you, and despite your refusal to apply a label to it, you catch yourself replying, “I’m yours, Tommy. Just yours.”

With that, he empties himself into the condom, twitching inside of you. He kisses you, you kiss him back, your muscles relaxing around him. And from somewhere in the house you think you hear bright laughter.

[jeankirsteinsgrlfrnd]

PLEASE write about Jean seeing you for the first time in four years 😭. Like you got taken by Reiner or something and when they attacked you went and found him. PLEASE THIS WOULD BE SO COOL!!

at last

pairing: jean kirstein x f!reader

word count: 1.2k +

tw: kidnapping, cursing, angst,

a/n: wow! this is a lil emotional! i hope you love it like i do. also, this isn't proof read.

it'd been four years. it'd been four whole years since you felt the company of your comrades, no, your friends. the day you were taken still burned sharply in the back of your mind, replaying on an endless loop, constantly reminding you of the last day you were happy. there was no forgetting the devastated looks, their faces twisting and contorting with fear. the sounds of their panicked shouts fading into the distance. the most haunting thing of all your brain tortured you with was the feeling of jean's fingertips slipping away from yours.

things like that weren't so easily forgotten, especially from the confinement of your cell. at the end of the day, you were grateful. you were grateful to still have your life, no matter how miserable it might have been. the cell you stayed in was dim, cold and all too quiet. it was the perfect breeding ground for your trauma, festering day and night. of course, there was a time you weren't as grateful; you'd rather have died then reside in marley for whatever time you might have had left. you were angry. you were angry at reiner, at marley, at the scouts for not being successful in their attempts to rescue you. there was fear residing there, too. were your friends alive? where was eren? did they know what you knew? did they know about the cruelty of the world?

eventually, reiner became somebody different. you no longer saw him as the traitor as he once was. you grew to understand him, your resentment eventually fading away. he'd come down most days and visit you. he taught you a lot of things about marley and about paradis. reiner would tell you about the world away from your cell, about things that were happening outside.

the day came where reiner told you that willy tybur, an eldian noble, was going to declare war on your homeland. he seemed remorseful to be telling you this. you screamed at him, begging him to interfere all while reminding him he was once a soldier, too. he ignored your pleas and left you a pacing mess in your cell.

not long after reiner's disappearance, a blond male soldier stopped by your cell. the soldier said nothing as he fumbled around in his pockets before pulling out a set of keys. he unlocked the door as you asked a thousand questions, raising your voice with each word. he said nothing. like reiner, he left without a word.

the sound of eren's titan echoed through the air, shaking the ceiling and causing bits of rock to fall. you thought you were hallucinating, your brain playing another sick trick on you. you heard it again with booms following right behind it. praying on the chance it was real, that eren was really here, your legs took off, your calves burning with each swift movement.

above ground was a nightmare coming to life. the sky was dark. there were no stars to see, the only light from the raging fires. the attack titan's silhouette was visible, muscles rippling as he pounded another titan. there were so many emotions running through the track of your mind but there was one thought that stood out apart from the rest.

if eren was here, were the scouts here too?

then, you heard it. the unmistakable sound of odm gear being launched through the air. anxiety brewed deep within you, letting you know this might be your one chance to go home, begging you to not let it slip away the way jean had let you. tilting your head up to the sky, you saw them. the scouts, in a different uniform than you remembered, were zipping through the air with utter grace. they were angels compared to the relentless war behind them. you wanted to cheer; your saviors were here, at last. you opened your mouth, filling your diaphragm with all the air it would let you and you screamed. you screamed as loud as you could.

"help! it's me, (y/n)!" it was the only thing that came to your mind. you thought your efforts were useless, barely being able to hear yourself over the screams of men, women, and children. the fight between of titans covering up your futile attempts at a rescue. you were about to yell again when you felt an arm snake around you.

the air was cold, an unwelcoming breeze, as you flew through the air with an unknown liberator. your eyes closed as the harsh wind hit them. you'd long forgotten what it was like to be a scout. once being able to zip effortlessly through your environment, you found yourself taken back. the arm on your waist was warm and you reveled in the heat, despite the chilled air around you.

your flight came to an end and only then did you open your eyes. with wide eyes, you blinked, taking in your surroundings. you were on a rooftop now. you centered your eyes in front of you.

"(y/n?)" his voice is choked, barely getting through your name.

jean kirstein.

tears brimming in your eyes like a dam threatening to break, you had let out a guttural cry. the next word out of your mouth was much softer than the sound you'd just made. "jean." you whisper. jean didn't move as water collected in his eyes, spilling over and running down his face. "jean." he nodded his head, at a loss of words. his mouth opened but only the sound of war was heard. jean shook his head and lunged forward, engulfing you in an embrace you thought you'd never feel again.

jean's shoulders were shaking with sobs and the battle behind was long forgotten. jean was no longer a soldier; he was healing. the wounds you'd left had never closed. they were deep gashes all over his body, aching to feel you, to hear you at any given moment. with a single embrace, he felt them closing.

his palm cradled the back of your head, the other wrapped around the entirety of your back. there was nothing said here as you two breathed each other in, finding the love that was once lost with each breath. jean's voice was quiet in your ears.

"i'm sorry," his breath was warm as it poured over the side of your neck. "i'm sorry." jean repeated.

you found it within you to pull away from his arms. you could see him now. you could really see him now. you could see how the four years had hardened him. the only thing that was the same was his eyes. it was the same way he had looked at you back then. his eyebrows twitch with concern, awaiting your next word, scanning your face for a hint.

your mouth fell open, desperately begging you to say something, to say anything at all. the sound of your cry was barely heard over the explosions of thunderspears; your tongue failing you with words once again.

"i know, baby."

you rushed forward, meeting him once again in an embrace. your head became wet with his tears as yours dampened his neck. jean's arms tightened as he let out a shaky breath. "i'm here, baby. you're here with me, at last."

my jean fic 🤍

[kamii-2]

“you thought wrong”

this chapter has a teensy bit of angst in it, anyway all of the summaries for chapters are on the masterlist for this story

warning(s): cussing, angst, fluff

genre: angst & fluff

pairing(s): kk arnold x reader

“you thought wrong” masterlist

==================================

chapter 2: “you were right.”

==================================

when you woke up the next day it was 9:46 am, the first thing on your mind was kk. you tried hard to not think about her but damn it was hard as hell. you couldn’t help yourself.

symphony had texted you last night at around 3 in the morning asking if you wanted to go to a party, you obviously said yes and got out of bed to brush your teeth and eat breakfast. today was a lazy day so you had nothing to do until the party. you realized that symphony never told you what time the party was so you asked her and she said 6, it was still early in the morning so you decided to clean up your dorm. after you cleaned you took a short nap then after you watched tv. the whole time you were thinking about kk, you couldn’t get her out of your mind.

symphony texted you again at 4:30 saying she’s going to pick you up at 5:45, you replied with an ‘okay’ then got up off the couch to get ready. you took a shower then got out and found a cute outfit, a white tank top and a pink short, tight, skirt. you put on some mascara and lip gloss before grabbing your phone and wallet and putting on your white and pink air max 270’s. it was 5:40 so you just sat on your couch until symphony texted you she was outside.

you went out to the car and got in, greeting symphony with a hug. “so, i heard kk and her team are going too.” symphony informed you as she pulled out of the dorm parking lot. you smiled while thinking about kk and how you might be able to have an actual conversation with her tonight. “where even is the party?” you asked, symphony shrugged. “it’s a simple house party, i don’t know who’s it is though. i seen people posting about it on snapchat so i decided to go and take you with me as emotional support.” she answered, eyes not leaving the road.

“ooh, we should get ice cream before we go!” you suggested. “wait we should.” symphony agreed before finding the nearest ice cream place and going in. you two ordered your ice cream and sat down and ate. “the only reason i wanted us to get ice cream is because i don’t want us to be the first people there and look dumb.” you admitted, licking your ice cream. symphony laughed at this and continued to eat. when you were done you got back in the car and symphony continued to drive to your destination.

you guys arrived at 6:23 and the party was busy and loud, cars everywhere. symphony found a place to park a little bit of a walk from the house but not too far. when you guys got inside it smelt of alcohol and a hint of sweat. you and symphony went straight to the kitchen for a drink then to the dining room and sat down. people came and went from the dining room, a few greeting the two of you every now and then. you two talked about school and crushes and other life stories.

while you were telling symphony a story, kk came from somewhere in the house and sat in the chair next to you. “oh hey kk.” you stopped your story and greeted her, she smiled at you and replied with “hey y/n, how’s the party going for you?” “it’s lowkey a bit boring, me and symphony have been sitting here talking the whole time.” you replied honestly, symphony gasped, “wow so you’re calling me boring?” she held her hand to her heart and looked offended. “what? no!” you defended quickly, kk and symphony started to laugh.

“anyway, how’s it going for you kk?” you asked her, “it’s going good but talking to you has made it a lot better” she replied while looking you up and down, staring at you lips for a little while longer than anything, somehow you didn’t realize she did that. her comment made you smile and get a little flustered. “thank you.” you replied trying to hold composure.

it was obvious that the two liked eachother but you were both too dense to realize it. you two had been unintentionally flirting with the other for a good 30 minutes before kk left. you turned to symphony after kk left the room, “i actually don’t think i’ve met anybody stupider than you two. you both want the other but are too damn dense to notice, and you two somehow managed to accidentally flirt and STILL neither of you seem to realized you two were attracted to each other,”symphony lectured you while you just looked at her like she was dumb, “the amount of times she checked you out was actually outrageous, she stared at your lips more than your eyes. y/n shes clearly gay and obviously likes you, i seen it with my own eyes.” you had no words but after a few seconds you replied to her. “oh my God, symphony you don’t know that.” you defended kk, not knowing that soon you were going to find out some very interesting information. “you’re stupid.” symphony deadpanned.

“i’ll be back.” you told her as you stood up and walked to the bathroom to calm down. as you opened the door you seen kk and some random girl making out. you immediately slammed the door shut and walked right back down the stairs. the sight of her kissing another girl shattered your heart to pieces. you felt the tears well in your eyes as you went back to symphony.

“you were right.”

symphony stood up and took you outside. “what happened?” she asked when you two reached the car. “kk was in the bathroom with another girl, kissing her.” you cried out, reaching over the middle console to hug symphony in the drivers seat. “shh it’ll be okay. let’s go back to my dorm and watch some movies or something like that. sound good?” she suggested while running your back. you nodded your head and let go of her. she started the car and you two went back to the dorms, getting food before she dropped you off back at yours.

==================================

i’m actually so sorry for this taking so long to get out. i’ve been SUPER busy and i only write when i have free time, anyway i hope you enjoyed the 2nd chapter of “you were right” !! i hope you have a good day/night, love you 💋💋

[reputationmunson]

Crossing Lines | s.h x fem!reader

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

series summary: steve isn’t your biggest fan, so why does he ask you to be his date to a wedding? | enemies to lovers, fake dating

chapter summary: your first date with Steve! and more :)

content: fluff, secret relationship, kissing, steve feeling insecure, mentions of eddie having a crush on reader, reader wears steve’s shirt, reader and steve being so in love it hurts, swearing, she/her pronouns, pet names, use of y/n, barely proofread

word count: 4.5k

a/n: IT’S FINALLY HERE! thank you for all being so patient with me and i hope the wait was worth it. (i also made steve softer than originally intended but i couldn’t help myself). also this is not the final chapter!!

thank you to @strwbrrydaydreams for listening to me talk about this chapter and for all of your kind words. i appreciate you so much ❤️

_

You had a date with Steve tonight. A date. With Steve Harrington. 

The same guy who, not so long ago, acted like just you existing was to spite him, the same guy who acted like being in the same room with you was pure torture, and the same guy who groaned after every time you spoke. 

He wasn’t that guy anymore, though. You hoped, at least. 

Steve kissed you silly two nights ago. He slept in your bed, nothing nefarious, just two people who no longer hate each other sharing body heat and kisses under covers. Then when he left for work the next morning, he pressed a soft, barely there, kiss to your temple.

He called you that night and asked you on a date. Due to the fact that you were keeping whatever was going between you two from your friends, you decided on a night in at your place. 

Just because you were staying in didn’t mean you weren’t going to put in any effort. You spent the whole day cleaning your apartment until it looked good enough to be in a magazine. You spent an embarrassing amount of time on your makeup until it was perfect. You even went out and got a new dress. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a simple sundress, but you thought it made you look pretty and you hoped Steve thought the same thing. 

You had candles lit, popcorn for the movie popped, and a bottle of wine ready to be poured in case things were awkward. 

There’s no way it won’t be a little weird going from barely being able to stand each other to…dating? You weren’t even sure what to call it. You knew you and Steve had to talk about it. You liked Steve, a lot, but there was also a bit of hesitation. He was so mean to you and he gave you a little explanation as to why the night of the wedding, but it was still confusing. 

Would he be hesitant too? Would he freeze at your touch? Would he still be cold towards you?

Or would he be the sweet Steve you used to know? 

You check the clock hanging on your wall and realize you don’t have time to worry about this as Steve would be here any minute. 

Your leg bounces anxiously as you hear footsteps approaching your door, followed by a knock. You take a deep breath, unlocking and opening your front door. Your nerves disappear when you see Steve. He looks so handsome, something you can really appreciate now. He has his hands behind his back, like he’s hiding something. 

“Hi” you quirk your brow “whatchya got there?” 

“You’re gonna think I’m so lame” he cringes. “I already do. Did you get me a present?” you grin. 

Steve chuckles at your excitement and moves his arms from behind his back to reveal a bouquet of your favorite flowers. 

“Steve” you whisper and your face softens. “How’d you know my favorite flowers?” 

“You told Robin one time and I guess I never forgot” he tells you and hopes you don’t make fun of him for remembering a mundane detail, but knowing you, you definitely will. 

“Wow” you breath out “you are so obsessed with me, aren’t you?” you joke and he playfully rolls his eyes. “Hey, you’re the one that got a new dress today” he teases. “How’d you know it’s a new dress? See, obsessed!” you counter and he throws his hands up in defense as a way to say “alright you got me. I might be obsessed”. 

“Are you going to invite me in or just let me stand out here while you bully me?” He cocks his head to the side and you pretend to ponder over your answer. “I guess you can come in since you got me flowers”

Steve follows you inside and into your kitchen. You rummage through your cupboards trying to find a makeshift vase for your flowers while Steve admires you. He wonders how soon he’s allowed to kiss you. Does he wait until the end of the night? Or can he steal kisses throughout the entire date? All he’s been thinking about for the past two days is kissing you. He’s not sure he can wait much longer. 

“Hey” he whispers, gently grabbing your hand and pulling you closer to him. “You look really pretty” he says and his hand cups your cheek. You lean into his touch, partially to try and convince yourself that this is real .“this is sorta weird” you mutter and his brows furrow. “Weird?” he questions. 

“Not like a bad weird, just different. I’m not used to you saying stuff like that” you confess “Oh, sorry. You look so bad tonight. Truly horrendous” he jokes and you stick your tongue out at him. “Meanie” 

“Let me make it up to you” he says, stepping closer so your bodies are pressed together. His lips brush over yours, but he doesn’t kiss you yet. 

“So pretty” he mutters against your lips. Your hand cups the back of his neck as you decide you can’t wait much longer and press your lips to his. 

As you kiss Steve, you realize there’s no point of return. There’s no world in which you could go back to hating him, or even just being his friend, after you know what it feels to be kissed by him. 

A simple kiss has never made you so weak in the knees before or made you feel like you had a zoo of butterflies in your stomach. 

The hand not on your cheek moves to rest on your lower back, keeping you as close as possible to him. You can’t help but smile, totally messing up the kiss. “Sorry” you chuckle and he rests his forehead on yours. “It’s okay. I’d smile if I was kissing me, too” 

“Oh my god” you groan before chuckling. “You’re insufferable, Steve” you kid, no malice in your tone.

“So insufferable” he jokingly agrees. “Do you wanna watch a movie now?” he asks, nodding in the direction of the living room. “yeah, um, but, is it okay if we talk first?” you nervously ask. “Yeah, sure. You’re not breaking this off already, are you?” he jokes and you shake your head. “No it isn’t like that. C’mon, let's sit.” you grab his hand and lead him to sit on the couch. 

“So,” you start and fiddle with the hem of your dress “I wanted to talk about us, I guess. I mean, not that long ago I swore you hated my guts and now you’re bringing me flowers and kissing me in the kitchen. I think it’s just making my head spin, ya know?” 

“Yeah, I understand. When I was buying flowers for you I kept thinking ‘this chick used to drive me crazy and now I’m picking out flowers and can’t stop thinking about kissing her’ and don’t get me wrong you still drive me crazy, but just a tiny bit less now that I get to kiss you.” he responds and grabs your hand that nervously fiddles with your dress. “Do you want this? Us, I mean.” he asks. 

“Of course I do. It’s just-ugh- I’m scared because what if we move too fast? or what if you have this image in your head of me and I turn out not to be that and you go back to how you used to treat me? And like I said before it’s a little weird, right? To kiss and hold hands? I just get scared that I’m gonna reach out to touch you and you’re gonna pull away.” 

“Yes, it does feel a little weird, but we’ll take this as slow as you want to, okay? I wanna be the guy you deserve. I know I can be an ass, but I’m gonna treat you the way I always should’ve treated you.” he promises, bringing your hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your skin. 

“You really can be cheesy, you know that?” you tease. “Baby, you don’t know the half of it.”

“Baby” you repeat, your voice soft and sweet. “I’ve called you baby before” he states. “Yeah, but when we were fake dating. I know that you mean it now and it’s nice.”

“I’m sorry” he says and you look at him puzzled. “For?” you ask. “How I used to be” he clarifies. 

“Steve, you’ve already apologized. It’s okay” you assure him. “I know I have, but it doesn’t feel like that’s enough. I wish I could change it. Go back in time and smack myself upside the head.” 

“Oh, I’d love to do that too. Smack you, I mean. Not me, I’m perfect. But, we can’t change the past, so let’s focus on the future. Starting with watching a movie because this popcorn is probably cold and stale now.” 

Steve quickly pops a movie in, some cheesy horror that you’ll both make fun of. He lays behind you on the couch, his arm wrapped around your waist. It feels nice. Better than nice. You fit together perfectly like two puzzle pieces. 

As you watch the movie, he occasionally peppers kisses along your jawline or your shoulder. Sometimes you turn your head to give him a proper kiss on the lips, which turns into a brief makeout session before turning your attention back to the movie. ‘Slow, Harrington. Take it slow’ Steve thinks to himself. 

Steve knows that he loves you. He thinks he’s loved you since he met you. He doesn’t think you’re there yet, though. Hell, he hasn’t even asked you to officially be his girlfriend. How much longer should he wait to ask you that? He doesn’t want to ask too soon, but he’s also not sure how much longer he can hold it in. 

If he can’t tell you he loves you, he’ll definitely show you. He’ll buy you all the flowers in Hawkins, he’ll hold you and kiss you until you shove him off you, he’ll do anything to show you and make up for the past. 

_

You and Steve are fast asleep when there’s a knock at your door. By the second frantic knock, Steve stirs, but thinks it was maybe just part of his dream until there’s a third knock followed by a voice that’s too familiar. “y/n! Open the door!” Robin exclaims. 

Steve shakes you a little to wake you up. “y/n, wake up! Robin’s here!” he whisper yells. “That’s not funny” you mumble, still half asleep. 

“Hello! I know you’re home!” Robin yells and your eyes widen before you jump off the couch. 

“Fuck! What is she doing here?” you ask, frantically blowing out the candles you lit for a ‘romantic ambiance’. 

“I don’t know! It’s your apartment! Did she tell you she was coming over?” he asks, still whispering. “No, it’s Robin. She always comes over unannounced.” You quietly move to the kitchen, dumping out the popcorn and hiding the flowers in a cabinet. “Quick, go hide in my room. In the closet” you tell him. 

“Why in the closet? Why can’t I just sit on your bed until she leaves?”

“No arguing! Closet, Steve” 

He doesn’t argue any further, he quickly and quietly goes to your bedroom and squishes himself into the tiny closet. 

You gather yourself before opening the door to see a frantic Robin on the other side. 

“Hey, Robs. What’s up?” you try to sound casual. “I’m so bored, y/n, ugh and today sucked so bad! Work was awful and I dropped my burrito on the ground and- why are you wearing a dress?” 

“Oh, um, I just bought this, so I’m trying it on. Do you like it?” you ask, hoping she doesn’t ask anymore questions. “You look great, duh, but why is your makeup still on, it's like ten at night?”

“Just testing out some new makeup, ya know. I had zero plans tonight so I figured, why not?” you lie, but she seems convinced. “Makes sense, I guess. Since you’re free, do you wanna have a sleepover?”

“Oh, I don’t know-” “pleasepleaseplease” she begs like a toddler and it’s clear she won’t be leaving any time soon. “yeah, okay. Tell ya what, go wait out and my car and we’ll get some snacks. I’m gonna change.” you say, tossing her your keys. “Yay! Don’t take too long!” she says and walks outside. You lock the door behind her just in case and quickly go to your bedroom. 

“Is she gone?” Steve asks when he walks out of your closet. “um, sort of. She’s waiting in my car because we’re having a sleepover, so you’ll have to leave like ten minutes after I do. I’m so sorry” you apologize and rest your forehead on his shoulder, letting out a sigh. 

“It’s okay. Trust me, I know how Robin is” he chuckles and starts to rub your back. 

“I had fun tonight. Even if it got cut short.” you tell him and he beams. “Me too.” 

“Alright, turn around. I gotta get changed.”

“I can’t watch?” he jokes and you lightly shove his chest. “Face the wall, Harrington”

You change as fast as you can into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt then give Steve the go-ahead to turn around. 

“How do you still look so good? Don’t think I can let you leave now” He says, sauntering over to you. “You’re gonna have to. Unless you want robin to break down the door and find us making out.” 

“Hm, very true. How about just one kiss then?” 

“Okay, but then I really have to go.” you say and he pouts, but quickly pecks your lips. Then he pecks them again and again. 

“Steve” kiss “I really” kiss “gotta go” kiss

You like this side of Steve and love how sweet on you he is. It makes everything worth it. 

“Alright, get outta here. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” he promises and you plant one last kiss on his cheek before leaving. 

You hope Robin doesn’t notice how flustered you are. 

_

Although part of you wished you were still with Steve, it was nice to spend time with Robin. 

You hated that you couldn’t tell her about this. She’s your best friend and you tell her practically everything. Guilt eats away at you thinking about sneaking around with Steve behind her back, but she would absolutely blow a gasket if she found out. 

“You okay?” she wonders, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little tired” you lie, giving her a half-assed smile. 

“Can I ask you something kinda weird?” she asks and you worry she might already know. “Don’t you always?” you respond and both of you chuckle. 

“Have you seen Steve since you came back from the wedding?” she asks and you stiffen for a second, but quickly act natural. “No, I haven’t. One weekend was enough for me. Why?”

“He called me one day while you guys were there,” she starts and you wait for her to continue “and it just seemed like maybe you guys were starting to become friends” 

“What did he say when you guys talked?” 

“Basically that spending a weekend with you wasn’t the worst time of his life. He said you were funny and that his family loved you. Especially a little girl named Peneople. He really admired how great you were with her and please don’t tell him I said this he would kill me, but he thought it was cute, too, which drove him nuts.” she laughs

“He said that?” you hold back a smile, but you can’t stop the feeling in your chest. Like your heart just might explode. “Weird, right? I mean, coming from him. I really thought you’d guys come back and at least be acquaintances.” she sighs. 

“Nope. Definitely didn’t come back as friends” you say, which technically isn’t a lie. You didn’t come back as friends, you’re more than just that. “Anyways, I’m exhausted, Robs. Wanna go to bed?” 

After tonight, you really had no reason to be hesitant with Steve. You were all in. 

_ 

It had been a week since you saw Steve. A long, dreadful week. You missed him, which is something you never thought you’d say, and you still had to poke fun at him for telling Robin that he thought you were cute. 

You barely even got to talk on the phone with him. With conflicting work schedules and late-night shifts, it was difficult to find the time. 

Luckily, you’d be seeing him tonight, but unluckily, all of your friends would be there. You love them dearly, you really do, but you just want alone time with Steve and you hate that you have to act like you don’t want to be curled up next to him all night. 

You would be able to have a little alone time with him, though. He told you everyone would be there around nine, so you said you’d be there at eight in hopes to make up for lost time over the past week. 

_

Your excitement got the best of you, causing you to show up at 7:30 instead and you hoped Steve wouldn’t mind. 

Little did you know, Steve was counting down the seconds until he got to see you. He practically sprints to the door when you ring the doorbell, almost slipping in the hallway. 

“Hi” he greets you with a big smile on his face. “Hi, Stevie. Sorry I’m a little early.” 

“Oh, yeah, I hate that I have to spend more time with my girl”

My girl. He says it so naturally you can’t help but smile and feel all giddy inside. “You’re such a goof.” you say before leaning in to give him a kiss to say how much you missed him. 

Both of you melt into the kiss and you feel the weight of missing him lift off of your shoulders. His arms wrap around you and he pulls you inside without breaking the kiss. ‘Impressive’ you think to yourself. 

Your hands find a place in his hair, threading through the soft, brown locks. His hands grip your hips, occasionally squeezing your sides. You feel warm all over from his touch and his affection. You’re half tempted to tell him to call everyone and cancel. 

He kisses you until you can’t breathe, which is more appealing than it sounds. You’d kiss him till your lungs give out. 

“Mm, I missed you” he says when he breaks the kiss, pulling you in for a hug. “I missed you too, cheeseball” you reply and he snorts. “Cheeseball? What the hell does that mean?” 

“Cause you’re cheesy. Cheesy Stevie” 

“Please don’t let that become a thing” he whines. “Maybe it will. Maybe it won’t.” you say, nuzzling your face into his shirt. He smells like body wash and laundry detergent and his shirt is so soft you definitely need to come up with a plan on how you’re going to steal it. 

“um, so, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to spend the night tonight? You could come back after everyone leaves or something.” 

“I didn’t bring any overnight stuff.” 

“You live, like, ten minutes away, babe. Grab your stuff and come back.” 

“You must really want me here, huh?” you tease. “Yeah. I hate sleeping without a blanket stealer” he teases back. “I am not a blanket stealer.” you defend yourself and he laughs. “So is that a yes?” 

“I suppose it is. Consider yourself lucky” 

“yeah, yeah, I know. You’re the best and I worship the ground you walk on, blah, blah, blah.” He sounds like he’s being sarcastic, but he means every word. 

“As much as I enjoy this, we’ve been standing here hugging for like ten minutes. Can we snuggle on the couch now?” 

“You read my mind, pretty girl.”

_

Steve hated that he couldn’t kiss you, or touch you, or tell you how cute you look every time your nose scrunches when you laugh. He especially hated how close Eddie was sitting next to you. His forearm touching your thigh was driving Steve crazy. It doesn’t take a genius to see that Eddie has a tiny crush on you. He tries to hide his annoyance, but he isn’t doing a very good job. 

His jaw is clenched as he gives Eddie a death stare. Eddie is oblivious to it, though, thankfully. You? Not so much. You can tell Steve is annoyed and you want so badly to assure him he’s the only one you want.

Eddie’s crush was harmless, it could barely even be considered a crush. You knew that and so did Steve, but he still let his insecurity get the best of him. He was never mean to you, he’d never treat you the way Steve did. Should you be with him instead?

As Eddie tells a story, he theatrically moves his arms around and in the process, he accidentally spills his coca-cola on you, causing you to gasp. 

“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry, y/n” he apologizes, looking at you with puppy dog eyes. 

“Jesus christ, munson” Steve groans and stands up from his seat. “It’s okay, Eds, it was an accident” you smile and assure him it’s okay. 

“C’mon, I’ll get you a shirt” Steve says and you follow him to his room. Everyone is momentarily confused at how fast Steve jumped to your rescue, sharing confused glances at each other. They quickly brush it off, not thinking too much into it. 

“You okay?” Steve asks once you’re in his bedroom. “It was coke, Steve, not battery acid. I’m fine” you giggle. “Are you okay?” you ask when you see the unamused look on his face. 

“Yep” he responds in an irritated tone. “Steve, don’t do that. If we want this to work you gotta talk to me.” you rest your hand on his upper arm, giving it a light squeeze. 

“I love Eddie, I do, but I can’t stand how much he likes you. I don’t like seeing him all over you when I can’t do anything about it.” he confesses. 

“Steve” you sigh “thank you for telling me, but I don’t think Eddie likes me as much as you think he does. Yeah, we used to be a thing for like five minutes, but that was so long ago and it doesn’t even matter. I want you and only you.”

“But he’s so nice to you. He always has been and it makes me think you deserve to be with someone who’s always treated you that way, ya know?” 

You step closer to Steve, grabbing his hand and running your thumb over his knuckles. “Steve, please stop beating yourself up about that. I swear I forgive you, okay? Call me crazy, but I’d go through it all again just to be where we are right now” you promise, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. 

“And you call me the cheeseball” he playfully scoffs. “I’m sorry for being weird. It’ll probably happen again” he says and you giggle. “I know it will. Now can you get me a shirt? I feel sticky.” you whine. 

“Here” he says, handing you a t-shirt with a faded basketball teams’ name on the front. “Thank you. Now get back out there before they get suspicious” you tell him and he nods in agreement. “I love them, but I can’t wait for them to leave” he says with a sigh before leaving his bedroom. You couldn’t agree more. 

“What took you so long?” Robin asks once Steve returns. “Couldn’t find a shirt up to her standards. You know how she is.” he replies briefly. 

You come back out moments later and Steve can’t wait to tell you how good you look in his shirt. 

_

After the longest hour of your life, everyone eventually went home. You rushed back as quickly as you could from picking up some things at your place and you hoped that no one decided to come back once you got to his place and question your reasoning for being there. 

Steve left the door unlocked for you, so you entered without knocking and find him cleaning up the mess left behind by the neanderthals (Eddie and Robin to be specific). 

“Hi, handsome. Need any help?” you ask when you walk into the kitchen. “No, I’m pretty much done. You can go get in bed if you want and I’ll be in soon”

“I gotta do my skincare routine, then I’ll be ready for bed” 

“Skincare routine? What do you gotta do for that?” he asks out of curiosity. “C’mon, I’ll show you.” 

Once you’re in the bathroom, you pull out all of your necessities out of your bag and Steve carefully examines each of them. 

“Do you wanna do it with me?” you offer. “Only if you do it for me” 

You pull a scrunchie out of your bag and pull Steve’s hair out of his face. “What do you think?” he asks, referring to his new hairstyle. “You’ll be starting a new trend in no time” you kiss the tip of his nose and he hums in appreciation. 

You take him through each step of your routine, carefully massage the products across his face. 

“Mm, feels nice” he lets out a relieved sigh. “And you do this everyday? No wonder you’re so happy all the time.” 

“Yeah, that’s why” you snort. Sure, it’s relaxing and brings you peace, but the real reason you’re so happy is sitting in front of with half of his hair in a ponytail being pampered by his own personal facialist. “All done. You look pretty good if I do say so myself” 

“I feel like a million bucks, honey. Can we go to bed now?”

“Mhm, let’s go. I’m exhausted” you reply and quickly gather up your products, putting them back in your bag. 

Steve dramatically flops on his bed, opening his arms as an invitation to join him. You accept his invitation immediately. 

Your head rests on his chest and one of his arm wraps around you. The sound of his heartbeat soothes you, you’d like to think that it’s beating a little fast because of you. 

He whispers your name and you hum in response, half asleep. “Are you awake?” he asks and starts to rub your back up and down with his hand. 

“Barely. What are you thinking about?’’ 

“I know we talked about taking things slow, but if I’m being honest, I’m dying to ask you to be my girlfriend and you can say no, but-”

“yes” you interrupt. “What?” he asks, unsure if he heard you correctly. 

“Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend, dork.” you clarify, then press a kiss to the column of his throat. 

“I call you baby and you call me dork. How is that fair?”

 “Get used to it. I’m your girlfriend now”

_

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[liillyliilly]

Freckles, Bandaids, Cherry Knots

yamaguchi tadashi x reader words; 2257 synopsis; she's an assistant at the gym where they play volleyball, once she helps heal up a teammate, yamaguchi sees her everywhere. also 3rd year long hair yamaguchi

“Bullshit.” She quickly put her bloody finger in her mouth, to avoid spilling blood onto the pristine flooring. Lightly she stood on her tiptoes to look for the bandages on the second shelf, but when she found them she was met with a challenge.

They were placed way up too high for her to reach. So she just climbed the countertop to see if she could get them.

Y/N had only been volunteering at the Miyagi Gym for around a month or so and had quickly adapted to helping the people who clambered into the medical office. Broken or bruised, she knew exactly what to do.

But still, it didn’t prevent her from accidentally cutting her finger on her homework that was long past due.

The metallic taste of her finger’s blood echoed in her mouth. She tapped her foot. Lost in her thoughts, only to be met with someone clearing their throat.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but, well, um. Gosh, um Kageyama has kinda well,-“ The green-haired boy seemed to stumble over his words. In hindsight, and in his defense, he didn’t expect to see such a cute girl climbing on a countertop.

The boy was tall and seemed to kind of hide in himself. But, the way he wanted to help his friend shone through more than his shyness. A piece of his hair stood straight up and it reminded her of the walkie-talkie she had growing up.

She hopped off the counter and cleared her throat.

“He got hurt right?” She offered to the boy, and once he nodded, she offered a smile and directed him to bring the dark-haired boy to the inspection table.

She then tried to jump and reach the bandages, to take care of the boy who needed her help. Seeing that his nose was bleeding and the bridge of his nose was getting bruised.

Her face was slightly flushed, mainly from the embarrassment of having to jump up to try and reach the white gauze bandages.

“Can I get those for you?” The boy offered, slightly toying with the collar of his Karasuno number 12 jersey.

That’s when she noticed that he was reasonably taller than she, so she stood off to the side and let him reach for the bandages.

“These right?” His face had turned red, blocking out the freckles she had first noticed. She let out a barely noticeable sigh, she thought his freckles were very in character for this boy. It almost seemed like something out of a movie to her.

The (not so helpless) leading girl gets help from the attractive love interest.

She quickly wrapped her finger in the white gauze before turning her attention to the boy referred to as Kageyama. Kageyama seemed hesitant to let her remove the tissue he was holding up to his nose to prevent a waterfall of crimson.

But she happily pinched his nose, which resulted in Kageyama flinching, and stopping the bleeding.

“Wow.” Kageyama wrinkled and wiggled his nose. “I feel great!” She handed him a wet cloth so that he could wipe away the red residue on his face and jersey.

She let out a relieved laugh, “Well, I’m sorry to tell you this but you’re going to need to stay here for a little bit longer. So I can make sure that you’re all good.”

“Fine.” Kageyama folded his arms in a huff. She went over to the sink to wash her hands, only to notice the green-haired boy hovering right next to her. It reminded her an awful lot like when her cousin got that new puppy, and it was always cuddled up next to them.

“I’m- I’m Yamaguchi. Nice to feet you.” He outstretched his hand for her to shake.

“I’m L/N, nice to meet you too!” She emphasized the word ‘meet’ since Yamaguchi had mixed the word up with feet instead.

“I didn’t say meet did I?” Yamaguchi rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. His face had just returned to being freckle-covered, only when she corrected him did his face turn bright red again. The constellations on his skin fade away into a blanket of red.

“Yeah, but it was cute that you didn’t say meet,” She paused, “I guess you just have a thing for feet then? Right?” She just couldn’t stop herself from teasing him. Using an elbow to jab him in his side playfully.

“No! I mean, feet are nice and all but, well, I’m sure you have nice feet, but, oh no. Well-“

“You two make me want to gag. Yamaguchi, c’mon I’m sure I can leave now. Right? Miss Doctor Lady?” Kageyama shook his head and stood up, waving his arms towards the exit door.

“Yeah, you seem to have returned to a normal-ish state.”

“L/N?” Yamaguchi floated by the exit door, not yet crossing the medical threshold.

“Yup?” She asked. She was wiping off the spot where Kageyama had been sitting, effectively disinfecting the area.

“Are you going to be here tomorrow?”

“As a volunteer, I’m stuck here until I’ve racked up enough hours to stop.” She joked. Yamaguchi just looked concerned. “It was a joke, you can laugh.” Yamaguchi ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. Again this brings attention to the strand that stood out like a sore thumb.

“Well, L/N, I hope that I can see you again?”

“Just don’t go getting yourself hurt on purpose okay?”

“Anything for you.” And now it was her turn to turn pink and fidget with her fingers.

Kageyama pulled Yamaguchi by his arm out of the office and back to the court. Yamaguchi waved wildly to her as Kageyama dragged him away.

______________________________________________________________

“Tsukki, she is just so pretty! And the way she helped Kageyama was hilarious!” Yamaguchi exclaimed mimicking the way she pinched Kageyama by putting his fingers to the bridge of his nose and then giggling.

“If you like her so much, why didn’t you get her number?” Tsukishima then proceeded to place his headphones over his ears as he helped Yachi put away random volleyballs. The constant rambling about Yamaguchi’s crush was getting uncool to him.

“Well, I didn’t get her number because, well,- I actually don’t know why I didn’t ask for it?” Yamaguchi scratched the back of his head in blatant confusion.

Tsukishima had finished helping Yachi and had swung his bag over his shoulder, thus beginning his trek home. He knew L/N, she was in the college prep courses, and she was in their year. She just split time between attending Karasuno, and then her volunteering internship at Miyagi Gym.

Tsukishima wondered why Yamaguchi had never noticed her before. He blames it on Yamaguchi’s ability to block out everything besides volleyball. The so-called tunnel vision of a captain.

“Tsukki! Wait up! I need your help getting her number!” Yamaguchi rapidly threw his backpack on and chased after Tsukishima.

___________________________________

Yamaguchi was often referred to as a loverboy, particularly by Tsukishima. And Tsukishima wasn’t wrong, not in the slightest. There are quite a few phrases that Yamaguchi Tadashi says every day. Most of them have to do with Little Miss Doctor.

“Tsukki! Do you think she would sit and eat lunch with us if I asked nicely?” Yamaguchi asked while trying to look over Tsukishima’s shoulder to catch a glimpse of his crush, nibbling on the egg from his bento.

His knee was bouncing wildly and he kept moving his head around trying to get a good look at the girl, giving Tsukishima a slight headache.

Ever since Tsukishima told Yamaguchi all he knew about her, Yamaguchi insisted they sit out in the courtyard to eat. Close enough to where she ate under the cherry trees between buildings.

“If you want to spend time with her, just go and do it. There’s no use in just stalking her.” Tsukishima pushed up his glasses and turned up his music to blast out the chatter caused by his classmates.

Would that really work? Asking to sit with her? Yamaguchi pushed away the thoughts until he saw that she was eating some cherries from a plastic bag.

She would flip a page in her book, eat a cherry, but then hold the stem in her mouth. Her jaw moved for a minute before she pulled out the stem, now tied in a knot. She smiled at it before putting it in the growing pile of tied stems. Repeating the process with a fresh cherry and a new page in her book.

Yamaguchi also wanted to be able to do that little party trick. And in an instant, he was standing next to her table and blurting out his thoughts.

“Wait! Hold up! You can tie a cherry knot in your mouth! Can you show me?”

She took out the stem, swallowed, and cleared her throat. “Show you how to tie a cherry knot?”

She felt her face warm up.

People asking about her subtle talent just used it to flirt or mess around with her. But Yamaguchi seemed earnest and enthusiastic about actually learning how to tie one. They hadn’t talked much since the occurrence at the Gym, but he would wave to her often between passing periods.

Once, when she was going to drop off some forms for her internship supervisor at Karasuno, she caught a glimpse of Yamaguchi pulling his olive hair into a ponytail during class. He held the hair tie in his mouth before grabbing his hair and tying the elastic.

Instead of a more hidden face, she could see his entire side profile, and she almost dropped all her papers.

He grabbed a cherry and ate it, sitting down across from her.

“I can show you.” She said, putting a bookmark in her book and putting it into her bag. She offered another cherry to Yamaguchi.

“This is going to be fun!”

After a few minutes of explaining, Yamaguchi was able to successfully tie a cherry knot. She gave him a smile, her face still slightly hot. The jokes and innuendos associated with tying a cherry stem were definitely not lost on her at this moment.

“Good job.” She complimented and patted Yamaguchi on the shoulder. He mentally swore never to wash his shoulder again.

“Now we can both tie cherry knots!”

She nodded at his words, the bell interrupting any opportunities to continue the conversation.

Yamaguchi waved goodbye and went into his classroom. When Tsukishima arrived back to class and looked over to him, Yamaguchi was looking out the window, twirling the tied cherry stem in his pointer finger and thumb.

From that day, she turned the duo of Tsukishima and Yamaguchi into a trio. However, Tsukishima didn’t enjoy the times when Yamaguchi would try and ask her out on a date when the three of them were hanging out.

It annoyed him mainly because of the obliviousness on her part. She just didn’t seem to notice or realize that Yamaguchi was trying his best to flirt with her.

Like today, when the small group was walking home in the falling snow. The sun caused the blanket of white on the ground to shimmer and bounce light back onto the group, though it didn’t directly translate to warmth.

She was shivering, her exhaled breath a misty fog, and her lips turning slightly purple. But she was still smiling and actively participating during the ongoing conversation.

“And then Hinata mimicked Kageyama by pushing his hair down!” Yamaguchi was telling a story about two frenemies, who happened to be polar opposites. She shook her head in understanding, bringing her hands to her mouth so she could blow some hot air onto them.

Without thinking, Yamaguchi grasped onto her hands and held them tightly, hoping that his warmth would pass from him to her.

“You’re freezing! Lemme warm you up.” Yamaguchi shrugged off his jacket and forced her to put it on and zip it up, even if the collar was too high for her and her chin and part of her mouth was covered by the fabric. Yamaguchi swung his arm around her shoulder and pulled her in close.

“Gross,” Tsukishima grumbled.

A couple of days later, she came down with a cold. Causing Yamaguchi to be fretting 24/7.

“Just text her already.” Tsukishima looked up from the magazine he was flipping through, not really paying attention due to the constant word vomit coming out of Yamaguchi’s mouth. His words were a jumbled mess of nerves and anxiety over the health of the girl who he had grown amazingly attached to.

Yamaguchi slapped his hands on his face, smushing his face. Pulling out his phone his finger hovered over the icon of her and him smiling. Pressing it he typed a small message. After pressing send, he flung himself onto Tsukishima’s bed, resting on his back and putting his hands behind his head. His brown eyes stared up at the ceiling.

“Tsukki. I like her.”

“I know Yamaguchi.”

“If you are still sick, can I make you some soup? I mean only if you want.” Y/n muttered the message aloud, trying her best to imitate Yamaguchi’s voice. To prevent turning into a mess, she covered her face with a pillow and screamed into it.

That night, Tsukishima was packing up his bag for school, tucking his books away, and giving himself a smirk.

He was glad that his friends were practically in love with each other, it was mildly entertaining to watch them stumble around each other.

[ateez-himari]

[240901] MAKNAES REUNITE

[NEW MESSAGES FROMM HIMARI]

[PM 10:49] The maknaes are maknae-ing harder than any maknae has ever maknae-d before

[PM 10:50] ㅎㅎ I might possibly be on social media more than you guys think, but the caption was both of our ideas to be fair. It's maknae telepathy

[PM 10:50] No we rode on the same one (please help me), I have a racing circuit license, a driver's license but I don't have a motorcycle license yet. We've been really busy lately so I'll get it when I have time

[PM 10:51] Ah, we're ahead of you! Jungkook oppa already posted the ta ta ta challenge on his account, we knew you guys would want us to do it ㅎㅎㅎ I can't believe he's starting trends while doing his service...

[PM 10:52] Oh, Tiny! It's his birthday today, he turned 27...he's getting very close to being 30 already yet he acts the same age as me. It's a shared braincell between maknaes I think

[PM 10:52] It's hard to keep track of but it's been about 11 years now, maybe a little more since we met before their debut. Since I'm still 22 I've known him half of my life

[PM 10:52] I didn't know he used one of his rest days, he just called me in the morning after my boyfriend left for the studio and asked if I was busy. It was fun, we went to eat barbeque after the bike ride

[PM 10:53] Oh I remember that, people were speculating for so long ㅎㅎI solved the mystery now, as you can see the extra helmet in his house was mine. I think the other members use it sometimes too so it's shared property

[PM 10:53] Some protective gear he bought for me is there too, I think some army were talking about it after a live and I felt kind of bad because they thought it was a girlfriend...

[PM 10:54] Jimin oppa told you that we cried when he started his service ? Wow, what a tattler, but it's true. I guess it was just really strange, I mean we grew up together in a sense so leaving each other for so long was heavy

[PM 10:54] Ahh no you can't talk to him, we said goodbye about two hours ago so I'm back home now. Mingi asked if I wanted to do a live later so you might talk to us!

[PM 10:54] If you guys are lucky he'll turn on the camera this time ㅎㅎ I really want to give you a tour of the airbnb at some point too, since it's a hanok (a traditional house) it looks really nice, like we're back in time almost

[PM 10:55] Hyunjin oppa already posted the pictures ? It's true, we went to see Stray Kids yesterday and it was such an amazing concert ! We met a few staytinys there, then had dinner with some of the members

[PM 10:55] No, I've actually known Bangchan oppa longer since we spent some time together before I left for KQ. We slept in the same room for a bit since neither of us were in the lineup for any group so there was no set dorm

[PM 10:56] How can you do this to me ?! There's no way I can pick a favorite solo, I really hope that they release them soon though...I'll put in a good word to JYP for you guys ;p

[PM 10:57] Don't worry I have plans with other members later on! But first we're going to go see my family in a few days, mom's been very adamant on 'setting my boyfriend straight just in case' ㅎㅎ I missed them a lot

[PM 10:57] Haneul's been asking me to come non-stop every time my brother calls to check up on me so I'm sure she'll be happy too. The members and I got so many gifts while we were on tour, Seonghwa oppa even got her some baby Lego

[PM 10:57] Oh, no, not Sannie oppa's older sister ! Haneul is my niece, Hanzo nii-chan's daughter, my brother wanted to continue the legacy of 'H' names to honor our parents

[PM 10:58] Ahh Mingi's out of the shower so I have to go now, we're gonna go on a walk (really romantic right ??) ♡ Love you so much, kisses!

Translated from Korean by Google

[ungodlysaltyinfrastructure]

Hey… so uh… Alux witnessing his mother die in front of him, anyone?

Aha. So um. I inexplicably went missing on tumblr...

Why? I tried deleting an experimental side blog I didn't need/want, and because I don't know how tumblr works, I had actually deleted my main account (Note to self, never venture off into the account settings, WITHOUT CHECKING WHICH BLOG IM ON) I was devastated about it, but, it may have been a good thing for me, question mark? I had been embroiled in toxic queer discourse (aphobia sucks), and it took a toll on my mental well-being. So I took this unfortunate deletion of my work as a sign to relax a bit, despite the pit of panic that formed when this happened. Luckily, I'm better! (again >_>) and I still love Alux Rising, so here I am, making my grand return! back at it again with more way too long character analysis!

I would've posted about my abrupt leaving of tumblr sooner as I was eager to explain everything, but then AR 14 dropped soooooooooooo

Okay. Ar 14. Just made me incredibly happy. A major thing that had been missing for me was actual depictions of Alux as a child. He goes on about how his childhood was rough, but we never actually got to see such. Only the aftermath of such childhood with his relationship to Elric.

Now that we've seen it,

Oh God. It explains, a lot. I always thought Alux acted weird, so much so that I started to theorize that he was *actually* autistic/ASD (More Asperger's Syndrome but that term is no longer used)

But now…

I still hold firm in my Autistic Aro Alux Headcanon, but now his “lack of character” makes more sense to me.

It's made out that Alux's lack of character was prominent in his childhood, as his mother says that one day, he'll learn to like whatever he likes, and he'll be his own person, inferring that he doesn't understand that yet as a child. That's really intriguing to me. Apparently, his blandness was apparent in his childhood, and now in his adulthood. And it seems that the only thing he fully knows how to do, is to help people. If this lack of uniqueness to his character was in his childhood, then maybe the fact that Alux is bland is a defining character trait for him. One that will be overridden by this developing story of Alux rising. (Aha! Character development!)

Now, in relation to Alux and his parents.

It seems like he followed his mom more than his dad. That's why he brings her up in his and Elric's argument, and why he says “I like what you like!” and “I want to be just like you” To her in the memory.

And upon further rewatching, my heart just broke.

In the memory, Alux's mom says “But remember to be the best version of yourself, and to treat others how you want to be treated.”

How does Alux treat others currently? *He constantly helps them. protecting them, making sure they're OK.*

*sigh*...

Ok.

I'm really glad that we got this flash back. It actually helps put some character into Alux (even if it being trauma) and his lack of reaction to a lot of things makes much more sense. Even after the whole flashback, his lack of talking about the memory for why he had such a strong reaction feels very realistic considering the circumstances.

Another thing I realized, when Alux snaps out of it, the surrounding magic of green crystals is the orchids. I'm crying.

It most definitely seems like witnessing his mother's death stunted Alux's mental development to a degree, mostly in the sense that he doesn't fully know who he is, what he wants, or what he likes with what seemed to be his only supporting figure in his life now gone. If he still had his mother, maybe he would've turned out differently. (Wow shocker, I know.)

And honestly, we all knew Alux was traumatized, but I did not expect it to be to THIS extent. I just thought his mom died of an illness, and he wasn't there to see it but she was gone.

I was. SO WRONG.

Dead wrong. One could say.

Like Alux's mom- *cough*

anyways- yea Alux's nickname should definitely be Horny, Professor Red- oops, sorry *GEARS* comes up with the best nicknames, in fact he should become president and deliver every presidential speech in his rhyming scheme.

Oh and James is not dead,

Apparently.