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luveline · 2 years

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𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary steve likes you, eddie munson's best friend, to the point of heart palpitations. you feel the same way about him [6k]

warnings fluff, getting together, mutual pining, first kiss, first date, eddie munson is a good friend, steve is hopeless, fem!reader, reader is hellfire club adjacent, reader is an overthinker and steve is a softie, pre-s4 post-s3, no s4 spoilers besides eddie + hellfire club existing

𓆩❤︎𓆪

The first time Steve sees you he's smitten.

You're sitting on the stoop of Eddie Munson's trailer. Coolest girl he's ever seen – and Steve doesn't go for the edgy type. Crazy cool clothes, hair all messy pretty and your eyes edged in dark makeup, you're fiddling with the cassette player in your lap, brows pinched in frustration.

Steve can't look long. He's dropping the lunch club off for some impromptu Hellfire gathering. The kids pile out, eager to see their new (no, Steve isn't bitter) friend with a chorus of rushed, half-hearted thank you's.

You push the headphones off of your ears as his kids approach.

"Hey, Y/N," they say, one by one as they enter the trailer and disappear from sight.

Steve is two seconds from leaving, swears, when he hears Lucas ask how you are.

"You know," you say, voice quiet and immediately intoxicating. Steve watches as you slowly push two fingers between your shiny lips and pretend to blow your brains out. You drop on your back and lie there for a moment, chest rising with easy, breezy laughter. The sound draws heat to his cheeks, worse the sight of your naked thighs.

He's hooked. He has to leave quickly, before you sit back up and indoctrinate him with your looks alone.

The next time he sees you is similar and not. You're sitting on the ground outside the movie theatre. Again, Steve is playing taxi cab for his doofuses, though this time the thank you's are slightly kinder, louder - he'd blown off a girl he didn't stand much chance with in the first place to bring them.

"Love you!" Dustin calls, slamming the passenger door.

You drop the cassette player in your hands and lean your head back against Eddie's thigh. Steve takes a few seconds to realise you're looking at him, head tilting this way and that to catch a glance at him through people's legs.

"Who's your friend?" he hears you ask Mike.

Mike doesn't even look. "Who? Steve? He's my sister's ex-boyfriend."

You smile at him. Steve, hating to be caught but not stupid enough to blush, nods at you through the window before turning the key. It's the suavest thing he's ever done and he's still applauding himself when you approach his window. He hadn't noticed you get up, distracted by triumph.

You knock the window. He rolls it down.

"Hi," you say.

"Hey," he says back. Then, cautiously, "You need something?"

You smell like a lot of things as you duck your head into his car. Mica and perfume and, softer, talc. Hairspray. Something else, wet like ink. He can't help looking at your make up, the rhinestones under your lower lashes, the shiny sticky pink on your lips.

"Steve," you say. He likes the way you say his name, confident, like you've always known it. You smile softly, at ends with your Joan Jett-esque levels of cool. "Do you wanna come see the movie?" Then, in what marks the beginning of the end, "With me?"

He knows he should play it out. Plus, he's startled. "I don't know, I'm just here to drop them off."

"It's okay if you have plans," you say. He catches a sneak of your tongue pressed behind - what he perhaps insanely thinks of as - cute teeth. You're talking to him in this lilting cadence that has him pinned. "But you drove all the way here, so if you're not busy…"

He pretends to consider.

"What movie?" he asks.

You bring a hand to your neck and secure a small silver pendant between your neatly lacquered nails. "Uh, it's called Day of the Dead. S'about zombies," you tell him. The way you say zombies - your voice goes high and airy, your lips move slow like they're catching up to the word, your eyebrows raised up. Eyes wide. He wants to play it back.

"Please?" you ask when he fails to reply.

He thinks he has to be dreaming. Or drugged again. Definitely drugged.

"Sure," he hears himself say, though he can't remember thinking about it.

You don't smile like he expects. You make a sound, a happy inhale, your eyes light up but your lips stay straight.

Steve thinks you might be nervous.

And sure, he can be a jerk but he's not a total douchebag. He gives you what he hopes is a reassuring smile and gets out of his car, locking the doors to follow you to the ticket stand. Closer now, Steve can't work you out: half dreamy, half fidgeting.

Your boots thud up carpeted stairs into the auditorium, the lights already down, previews blaring.

There's two empty seats next to Eddie. In the dark you catch the hem of his jacket between your fingers and pull him behind you.

His heart skips.

Eddie, in what Steve thinks of as his most mature greeting to date, nods at him and then turns to you curiously. "You okay?" he asks seriously.

"I'm perfect, Eds. Did we miss any good previews?" you ask, sitting heavily beside your friend and stealing a big handful of popcorn out of his lap.

Eddie only chuckles. "Nothing you'd like."

You nod and then turn to Steve shyly. "Sorry we didn't get snacks," you whisper. You offer your hand to him, full of popcorn.

He shakes his head. You look embarrassed but not surprised, tipping your head back to polish off your handful.

"You went to Hawkins High?" you ask with your hand over your mouth.

"I did. You didn't?"

"I did," you correct gently, wiping your hand on your thigh. "I graduated two years ago. When Eddie should have."

That makes more sense, though Steve's sorry he doesn't remember you. He was a little obsessed with Nance at the time.

"Do you work?" he asks.

You smile like you're about tell him a big secret, edging forward. Your arms brushes his arm on the rest between chairs. "You can't tell anyone."

"On my honour," he says, eyes wide, terrified you're a mercenary or worse, a cold caller.

"I desk at the library," you say.

He blinks. You giggle and Eddie shushes you, already sounding defeated. Chastened, you drop your voice to a barely perceptible level.

"I know, I don't look the type."

"No," he says, too loud, receiving several disgruntled glares. "No, you- Well, maybe you don't. But I don't look like I worked at Scoops Ahoy all summer, so…"

You slap a ring-laden hand over your shiny pout and try to smother a laugh. Bracelets slide down your wrist. "You do! You do look like you worked there," you say joyfully.

He can't find it in him to be offended.

You're milder as you settle back into your seat. A preview passes. You clear your throat.

"I'm sorry," you say, sounding worried, "if that was cruel. I get mixed up. I know- I mean, I don't know, but the Starcourt thing. That must've been awful."

Your words stick together like taffy. He releases you as quickly as he can.

"Hey, don't be sorry," he says, scoffing lighty. He readjusted where he's sitting, crossing his arms over his chest. "Doesn't matter." It's not like you'd meant anything by it.

You look less peaky but still hesitant.

"Would you believe me if I told you the worst part of my job was the uniform?" he jokes, wanting to put you at ease again.

"Was it really so bad?" you murmur, your lips slowly curving up into a smile.

"There was a mandated hat."

You laugh. People shush you aggressively. Steve feels something close to magnetism at the sound, and wants to make you do it again.

"Where do you work now?" you whisper as the movie begins.

"Video store by the arcade."

"Family Video?" you ask. He nods, looking down at your hands in your lap, your fingers. Your legs are shaking, minute trembling. You twist one of your rings around your fingers and he wonders what's making you nervous.

"That's the one."

You bend in close, so close he thinks he can smell your shampoo. Dusky, rosewater. Sweet.

"Maybe I can come see you. You can recommend me something."

"Sure," he says, too loud. Somebody coughs, though the cough sounds suspiciously like dickwad.

You watch Day of the Dead, stealing popcorn all the while. You pop the lid off of Eddie's drink and take sneaky sips, and your friend flicks your upper arm when you get greedy. In response, your bashful, peeling laughter.

"Fine, I'll get my own drink. You want one?" you ask Steve, standing with your back bent, necklace dipping down in the space between you. He follows it, looks accidentally straight at your chest and then back up, guilty and blushing. "Steve?" you ask.

"I'll come with you," he says, desperate to escape the dark, the warmth.

Steve follows you down the red, trodden carpet and back into the main body of the theatre, an atrium with high glass windows and wooden beams. It smells old, like dust. The sky is dark now, night eating up every bit of natural light. White cat eyes beam from the movie theatre's floors to guide you to the snack station, a brighter, well stocked haven of greasy foods and cold drinks.

You stand in front of the popcorn machine. It paints your skin with a golden yellow shine, like the sun. You're very quiet as you open your clutch, pulling out hair pins and chapstick and a lone cotton pad before you find your purse, a battered leather pouch embossed with hearts. He tries not to fill the silence, digging for his wallet in his pocket. He gets a too big coke and you deliberate over slurpee flavours, eventually asking for a mix.

"It's so quiet out here," you murmur around your straw.

"Like Family Video on a Friday," he agrees.

"Isn't Friday, like, one of your busiest nights?"

"Yep."

A burst of surprised giggles. Steve hides his smile with a cough, 'cos he's cool.

You pull the straw from your cup and lick it clean, digging for a certain flavour though he's not sure which, still laughing to yourself. Steve takes the initiative and leads you back up the stairs and to your seat, catching your jacket in his hand before you can walk down the wrong row.

You smile gratefully, your lips stained blue and red.

You're sitting on the pavement outside of Family Video. Steve can see your back, your hair.

He wonders why you're here, if it's to see him, and then if you're okay, and feels bad for thinking in that order.

"Robin," he says loudly, reluctant to tear his eyes from you lest you disappear like a shoddy apparition.

"Steven."

"Not correct."

"What, idiot?" Robin asks, picking her head up from the book stretched open in her lap. She sits up and her back clicks loudly.

Steve sighs in disgust. "That's gross, you know? You'll get, like, arthritis."

"You think arthritis is gross? Not cool, Steven."

"No, I meant them as two separate things. Gross to hear you click, and that the clicking will give you arthritis," he explains, exasperated. He runs a hand through his hair.

"That's a myth."

A long pause where Steve watches your back moving, how you're leaning forward towards the sun bleached tarmac.

"What?" he asks suddenly, turning from you finally to stare in disbelief at his best friend.

Robin is more than prepared to fight her cause, the leaves of her book closed around her hand like she'd been waiting for him to ask. She probably had been.

"It's a myth. Clicking your bones doesn't give you arthritis. The clicking sound is fluid moving- Are you even listening to me?"

Steve has dropped his head into his hands. He spreads his fingers wide so Robin can see his eyes. "Robin, we have more important things at hand."

"Like what? Keith's laundry?"

"Like Y/N is sitting outside right now!" he shouts, and then cringes. You don't show any sign of having heard him. He continues in a strangled whisper, "She's been out there for like, five minutes!"

Robin kicks up off of her stool to stand at Steve's side, up on tiptoes to see over the vinyl on the windows. She's listened to his inane rambling and insecure, badly disguised yearning all week, but hasn't had a face to a name until now. She makes a sound of approval like she can understand why Steve has been so wound up about you.

"Why's she on the floor?"

"She does that."

"Oh," Robin says, chin jutting up. "Are you gonna go talk to her?"

He wants to. Dreadfully. Intensely wants to.

"Or I could go talk to her," Robin offers, wrists touching. She rubs them together. Steve ignores her mischievous, shit-eating grin.

"Sure, Robs, you talk to her. Stun her with your stellar people skills."

Robin's lips push, as close as she's ever come to pouting. "Cruel."

"Yet accurate."

"If you're so amazing, why don't you go talk to her, hot shot? Woo her! Chop-chop."

Steve steels his nerves because even if he is about to make a huge fool of himself he's slightly worried about your on-the-ground position. Not unusual for you, but still.

"Are you okay?" he asks as he emerges.

You turn to Steve like you're unsurprised that he's there and offer your headphones to him. "Put these on?"

"Are you okay?" he asks again, voice not dissimilar to when he's bossing around the kids.

You hold the headphones to your chest and dip your chin. "Steve, I'm fine. Please?" you ask, offering them to him.

He puts on the headphones, bent at the waist for the wire to reach your cassette player. He quickly discovers the source of your unhappiness – the tape sounds bloated. Distorted.

"The tapes messed up," he says.

You shake your head with patience, though he can tell from your expression this isn't the first time you've explained it. "It's not the tape, it's the player."

Steve's back gives a twinge. I'm an old man, he thinks in horror, standing up straight with your headphones back in his hands.

"You drop it?" he asks expectantly.

You only frown more, looking generally put out. "No, I took great care of her. Scout's honor."

Steve sighs and decides to take the leap, sitting down beside you on the sidewalk. There's a small dip where the parking lot starts and he stretches one leg out across it, hand on his knee, the other across his abdomen.

"Can't one of your nerd club fix it?" he asks.

"I'm not actually in Hellfire Club, you know."

He didn't. "You can't ask? Eddie must've learned something at school after this many years. By accident. Like… osmosis."

"Eddie's on his third try for a reason," you say, picking at a small ladder in your tights on the side of your calf. You're wearing socks, too, peeking up just over the edge of your thick bottomed boots.

"You know Dustin?" he asks after a patch of silence he would find awkward with anyone who wasn't you. You make it peaceful, in a way. "He could take a look. He went to science camp and built, like, the world's strongest radio."

He can't tell if you're listening. Your eyes are trained on the sidewalk, its crack, and the weeds growing between them. There's a wet snapping sound.

You hold a small yellow flower between your fingers.

"A creeping buttercup," you tell him. You push your palm flat in the space between you both and lean towards him. "Do you like butter?"

"Do I- Yeah, sure, I like butter. Who doesn't?"

You lick your lips. "Mind if I check?" you ask him.

"Is that a trick question?"

"Steve," you say, chiding. You tilt your head to your shoulder and the breeze kisses your hair, ruffling soft strands as you hold the flower under his chin intently. He feels frozen.

"You love butter," you say, nodding like what you just said makes sense.

"Are you sure you're okay? Didn't hit your head on the way here?"

"Here. Hold it under my chin," you tell him, offering him the flower. You twirl its stem, though you stop when he moves to take it.

Steve feels like an idiot as he holds it by your neck.

"Closer," you say softly, lifting your head.

Steve raises his eyebrows but keeps his skepticism to himself. To his surprise, when the flower is close enough to your skin, a small patch of yellow light appears, gauzy around the edges.

"What the fuck…"

You lower your chin, your faces closer than Steve had realised. You look straight into his eyes. "It's a reflection of the light. 'Cos it's clear out."

He feels out of his element no matter how captivating he finds you – he can't get to grips with it. His silence quickly deters you; you look away from his face and your lips pull into a pout as you bite your bottom lip. You bend at the waist and mess with your shoelaces.

"Did you wanna come inside?" he asks, trying to fix whatever it is he did. Girls are complicated.

You cheer up a bit.

"Do you have anything like Day of the Dead?"

He has no clue.

"Sure we do," he says confidently.

He stands up fast and offers his hand. You take it, your palm smooth and cool in his, admittedly warmer and slightly calloused. He hopes the ease with which he pulls you up is impressive, then feels stupid for thinking that. You squeeze his fingers before you let go and follow him into Family Video.

"So, what? You like him?" Eddie asks you from above, cross-legged on his bed. Denim jacket nowhere to be seen, he sits in a t-shirt with the sleeves hacked off, tattoos on clear display, stark against his pale skin.

"Don't be jealous, Eds," you say mildly.

He crawls to the edge of the bed to look down at you where you lie on his floor. His hair tickles your nose and you hold in a sneeze.

"Nice face," he says.

"I think he likes me."

"Why wouldn't he? You're cool."

You stare at your best friend's earnest face. "You know why."

"No, I don't."

You close your eyes, head dipping to your shoulder. You can't hide from him, though you've tried. Your arms cross over your tummy in a self-hug.

The ground is cold. His uncle's trailer is always cold, frigid in the winter. Minimal insulation and no A/C. You rub your face into the scratchy rug beneath you and sigh morosely, suddenly overcome with a pinching misery.

"There's nothing wrong with you," Eddie says seriously.

"I don't think I can do it." It hurts to say, though you know Eddie won't judge you.

"What? Have a boyfriend?"

You nod. The mattress creaks as he moves. You're expecting his touch, though his cold finger flicking you square in the forehead startles you anyway. Your eyes jump open. You flinch up into a sitting position and rub your head.

"Shithead."

"Stop doubting yourself."

"I get so messed up. I'm a bad friend, I wouldn't- I wouldn't be a good girlfriend," you mutter, bringing your knees to your chest. You hide in them.

"You don't get messed up," he says.

"I'm stupid."

"Y/N," he says, dragging your name out sternly. "Here, come sit with me. I won't flick you again, promise."

You rub your eyes, smudging your makeup and stand reluctantly to flop onto his bed, his rumpled sheets a lump under your back. Eddie pulls your necklace from where it has ridden up your neck and drops it down the valley of your chest absent-mindedly.

"You're not stupid," he says gently. "And you don't get 'messed up'. You're overthinking things."

"I'm not," you argue. "I'm an idiot, and I say the wrong things, and maybe he does like me but it won't last long."

You didn't have an easy time in school. Eddie knows this, lived it with you, and he's blamed it a thousand times for your low self-esteem. Ever understanding, he hums to himself skeptically and grabs your shoulder, giving you a good shake. He doesn't stop until you're laughing.

"I'm trying to shake some sense into you," he confides. "You're really fucking cool. And I'm not just saying that because you've been copying me since middle school, you're really cool."

"Cool," you repeat.

"Awesome."

You run the chain of your necklace through your fingers and feel the links skip over your skin, frowning.

"I thought for sure he'd ask me out by now."

"Maybe you should ask him."

"He probably thinks I'm, like, a creepy stalker."

"Creepy, maybe. Stalker? For what? Visiting him at work? That's friendly." You're overthinking things, he doesn't say.

"I left him my phone number," you admit, whispering. "But he hasn't called me."

"Babe, you're always fucking here. Did you check your machine?"

Obsessively. "Yeah."

Eddie throws himself down and kicks his legs over your tummy, to your annoyance. He ponders and you sulk, the rough sounds of Black Sabbath playing in the background.

"You've only met him a few times, right?"

Right. The movies, the video store, once when you'd bumped into him at the arcade and a couple of times when he'd checked out books at the library.

Eddie smiles as you tell him. "The library?"

"Yeah."

"He's visiting you at work?"

You think back to the last time you'd seen him, all of ten minutes across the desk with your clean library uniform and your neat hair. You finally cracked and asked him if he thought it suited you better.

"You look great," Steve had said, smiling lopsided, "but I miss your pretty gems. Oh, we have Friday the 13th back in. I kept it for you..."

"No, he's visiting the library," you say.

Eddie chuckles, his deep, teasing laugh. "And before you met, you saw him in there a lot, huh?"

"Well, no."

"So it's a coincidence that he found out where you work and he's suddenly an academic?"

"Shut up, Eddie," you plead, covering your face with your hands.

"Fine, whatever, we'll stop talking about it. Wanna paint my nails?"

"No."

You get up and paint his nails. You've done one hand pretty well when there's the sound of a car parking outside. Eddie turns down the stereo and you stare at each other curiously, listening for clues.

"Your uncle?"

"No. Probably for someone else."

Instantly disproved, there's a knock at the door, breaking up the silence. Eddie sighs dramatically and climbs over your legs to answer, his footsteps clumsy. "Yeah, coming," he calls. You stand and peer around the doorway, waiting to see who it is.

Eddie opens the door. "Harrington," he says, surprised, vaguely disgusted. "The munchkins aren't here."

"No, I know. I'm looking for Y/N."

You feel a stab of excitement right to your heart and scramble for Eddie's mirror, looking over your face and outfit with something close to terror looming – you're in an old band t-shirt covered in hair-dye from Eddie's red and pink phase and a skirt that's too short. You pull it down to make sure everything is properly covered.

"Yeah, she's here," Eddie says, though the door creaks as he closes it slightly, his voice a fraction from intimidating as he asks, "Who's asking?"

"Me?" Steve asks.

Your socks slide over linoleum in your rush to stop Eddie from being a total dick, edging him out of the way with your hip. He doesn't budge. You shove him with a huff and smile at Steve, trying to calm your pounding heart.

"Steve, hi."

"Hey," he looks over your shoulder. You turn, see Eddie standing there looking unimpressed. He waves. You glare at him fiercely and step over the threshold, shutting the door behind you.

You don't second guess as you take Steve's wrist into your hand, pulling him down the steps and into the short grass to make sure Eddie can't eavesdrop. It's damp under your socks.

Steve looks hot. You're a simple girl, you won't deny that. His hair looks more windblown than usual, lazy strands falling into his face. His eyes are serious, light brown and edged in straight lashes you would count if he let you, brows slightly lifted. You realise he's taking you in as you do the same and feel self conscious, shifting from foot to foot.

"Sorry, I look weird. I didn't-" you bite your tongue. I didn't know you were coming, you'd almost said, but of course you didn't, and telling him you would've dressed up if he was coming might scare him off.

Any anxiety you'd had is soothed as he takes your hand, still loosely clasped around his wrist, and squeezes the centre of your palm with his thumb.

"Are you kidding?" he asks, hand moving down, thumb rubbing over your pulse point. "You look beautiful. Don't worry about it."

His nonchalance trips you up. You can feel your heart in your mouth, like a hummingbird on your tongue.

"What did… what did you wanna ask me?" you stammer.

Steve drops your hand. "I tried calling, but I figured you'd be here. Uh, so-" he laughs, pulling a hand through his hair before dipping into the pocket of his jacket. You watch his arms then his hands.

"I got these," he says, pulling two tickets from his pocket. White and a third red, he offers them to you. You take them, enough adrenaline running through you that your hands are shaking and you struggle to read what they say.

Steve jumps in. "I know you really liked Day of the Dead. They're doing a showing in Indianapolis, one of those fancy theatre's where everyone dresses up as zombies, and like, they throw fake guts on you. Or something."

"Oh," you murmur. Awesome, you think. Oh my god. "That's sick."

"Right?"

"And you…"

"I want you to go with me. I want to take you," he says firmly. "On a date."

"A date."

"It's Friday. I'll pick you up, we'll drive there in the morning. Hang around, we can go wherever you want for dinner, see the sights."

"This is before or after we dress up like zombies?" you ask, hiding a huge smile.

Steve blushes, let it be written, his cheeks red. He sounds frustrated as he says, "Right, not my best idea. Before? We can get ready in the car," his voice fades before he finishes. "That's not a good idea."

He starts on a self deprecating waffle that you can't allow. You press the tickets to your chest, way too happy. "This is pretty cool."

"You think so?" he asks quickly, strung out.

"Yeah," you say fondly.

"Oh."

You almost step on his toes as you kiss his hot cheek. He smells nice. You set back on your heels and linger, trying to work out what his cologne smells like. Something fresh, not quite lemony.

You get a bit dizzy and carried away, stroking the curve of his arm with the back of your hand. Steve makes a sound like a hiccup and you remember yourself, stepping away bashfully, afraid to meet his eyes.

"So," Steve says, sounding relieved. Excited. "You'll go?"

"Yeah. It sounds awesome."

"It's a date," he says.

You tell him your address and he promises to call you to smooth out all the details but he really has to go to work. You climb back up the stairs and close the door almost all the way, watching as Steve gets in his car through the crack. He sits motionless for a bit before he fist pumps the air, says, "Yes! Ugh, yes. Still got it. Still got it, Hawkins."

You close the door.

"Ew, you look happy. Harrington cop a feel?" Eddie says.

"Something like that."

You're running down a dark alleyway with Steve's hand in yours. He's almost dragging you. Dude runs fast.

"I ran track!" he tells you helpfully.

You can't help the breathless laughing as you go, nervous and humming with energy. You'd both been having a great time at dinner and lost track of time, and now it's twenty minutes until doors open for Day of the Dead and neither of you look particularly lifeless.

You almost slam into the back door of his BMW, scrambling inside. Steve is quick behind you, upending the bag with your change of clothes onto the back seat. Your makeup and fake blood tumble out after it. He reaches up to turn on the overhead light.

"Fuck," Steve says, face carved in shadow. "Fuck. We don't have time."

"Sure we do," you say, tugging your shirt off quickly. Steve looks pointedly away once he notices your predicament. You chuckle. "Steve, just get changed. I don't care if you look."

"I'm a gentleman," he insists, rushing, the two of you folding and bumping into each other in a hurry to get dressed into your old clothes.

You catch flashes of his bare chest as he buttons down then buttons up, his legs, his thighs. You feel heat lick every stretch of skin you have at the sight. Oh, he's hairy, you think, and then have to slam your eyes shut to stop from thinking sick (completely normal, dirty) thoughts.

You pull your tights off of your ankles, blush at the idea of being sequestered in a car with him in your underwear, and leap to replace them with a pair of tight, pinstriped trousers, shrugging into them with great difficulty. Your chest is rising and falling rapidly as you pull on your blouse, white for the best fake blood effect, buttoning up just enough to hide your bra.

Make up next. You want to look scary and, importantly, believable. You fish for the make up you'd brought and have managed to suitably brush up your dark eyes with purples to look bruised and sickly by the time Steve has finished redressing. He tightens the tie around his neck.

"You next," you say.

Steve hesitates. "I've never done any makeup before."

You don't blink. "That's okay. I'll do it for you, if you want me to."

Steve climbs closer over your discarded clothes, close enough to hear his breathing, still fast. You brush the hair out of his eyes and they find yours, the two of you sharing a private smile, though there's no one else around.

"Will you ruin my good looks?"

"You'll be a very handsome zombie," you promise.

You reach for his face.

"You need to get closer," you tell him, fingers hooked under his ear. You tilt his head to the light.

"I can't," he says.

You steel your nerves and grab onto his shoulder gently, anchoring yourself as you climb up into his lap. If he's surprised he doesn't show it, his big hands coming up to your waist. You can feel the heat of each finger clearly on your skin where he grips you and the heat of his thighs like a furnace underneath yours. You try not to brush against him, standing up on your knees.

You use your fingers, rubbing them gently in the powder shadows and then over his silky skin. Big stripes of purple, a wash of yellow around his pretty eyes. He closes them as you dab a dark red under his eyelashes. You grow closer still, your breath fanning over his face. His hand skips respectably over your back and down to your thigh, holding you up. It's helpful. It's torture. You try not to breathe too loudly.

"You have really soft skin," you say, using your thumb to spread dark contour under his cheekbone, one side of his face gaunt.

You cover your work with your hand as his eyes open.

"Yeah?" he asks.

This closeness. Suddenly, abruptly, the feelings you're trying to push down rear their heads, and the heat becomes hard to ignore.

"Yeah," you murmur, thumb under his eye. He looks ridiculous. You know you look the same.

"Am I done?" he asks. His hand squeezes your thigh as he adjusts his hold.

"Not quite," you say.

You finish his makeup in silence. Time slows. You forget that you're late, content to feel his features under your hands, to learn the planes and dips of his face for the first time like this. You tuck his hair behind his ears carefully, smoothing back his hairline.

He's looking up at you. You sit down in his lap and he moves his hands to behind your back, his head following you down intently. He looks serious.

You draw your hand from his face and drop it onto his thigh, your rings brushing over starchy slacks.

It's his turn to touch you. Steve's hand comes to your face, his broad palm over the entirety of your cheek. You wait for something though you're not sure what, frozen with apprehension, simply watching him take you in.

"Do I look scary?" you ask, eyes on his lips.

They part before he answers, like he knows what he's going to say before he says it. "Horrifying," he murmurs wryly, hand gently pulling your face towards his.

You lift your chin to meet his lips, the muscles of his forearms shifting against your chest as he cups your face in both hands, guiding you to him. Your lips touch, tentative at first, one small kiss that feels more than warm, a homely, perfect fit. He pulls back and you don't, tapping the tip of his nose with yours until he opens his mouth.

You sneak in as his hand runs down your neck, your arm, slow and sleek. He makes a small sound as he takes the lead, opening you up, and it tickles your lips with its vibrations. He sounds content. You're feeling similarly happy, grabbing at his hand where it holds your face, squeezing his wrist to hold it in place as you push yourself into his arms. He takes you eagerly, pulling you chest to chest.

His head bumps the window. You pull apart, panting and happy and giggling, your lips damp and tingling. Steve rubs the back of his head, looking at you with an expression you can't describe.

"What?" you ask, wiping at his bottom lip with your thumb where your lipstick has stained him.

"How come you're so pretty, even like this?"

"Like this, a zombie?" Steve nods slowly. "Let me know when you find out, Harrington."

He pulls you back in with a smirk that sets your tummy aflame. "You think I'm pretty?" he asks, lips a millimetre from yours.

"Super pretty," you say, and kiss him. He loves on your top lip like you've got all the time in the world, kisses warm and slick. "Almost as pretty as me," you say between them.

He slows your kisses, gives you one last peck over your burning mouth. "No one's as pretty as you," he says agreeably.

You beam. Steve beams back though it quickly fades as he brings his arm up to check his watch.

"We're so late," he says, manhandling you off of his lap with an apologetic grimace. "C'mon, we still gotta cover you in blood."

You both get out and Steve sprays you down with fake blood. You laugh as he does, the cold liquid tickling your skin as it trickles down your face and your chest and your tummy.

Steve takes his own bloodying with far less laughter though he smiles at your glee. He's so handsome you can't help it, stepping into his space for another kiss. There's blood on your lips, evidently, as it transfers to his.

"We need to go," you say, like it's his fault.

"Wait. I have something for you."

Steve opens the driver's side and takes a small object from under the seat. He hands it to you.

"I called in a favour. Dustin and Lucas fixed it up, I checked, like, ten tapes. It works."

In your hands the bane of your existence, your faulty Walkman. There's a fake blood mark in the shape of his thumbprint on the side and you decide you're going to leave it there forever, looking to him with a completely uncool amount of affection.

"Steve," you say happily, a heat behind your eyes.

"I got sick of seeing you pouting, that's all," he says hotly, crossing his arm over his chest. "Now you can stop sulking."

You throw your hands around his neck to hug him tightly, the Walkman pressed to his neck. He oomphs, hands flying to your sides. Your face against his shoulder, you curl a strand of his brown hair around one of your fingers. "Thank you." You dot a corn syrup kiss against his throat. "You're the coolest," you say as you pull away.

His hands move from around your back to your shoulders, holding you at arms length. "People have said that about me."

"I bet."

𓆩❤︎𓆪

thanks for reading! | my masterlist

#steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x reader blurb #steve harrington x reader fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things #steve harrington one shot #eddie munson x reader platonic

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chelleztjs18 · 9 months

Text

Spiraling Thoughts (W.M)

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader (Modern AU)

Summary: Wanda's spiraling thoughts get between both of you.

Warning: Hurt/Comfort angst, swearing words.

Requested: Yes

A/N: Hello! Another post, another angst from me. I didn't proof read this, sorry in advance for typos. More angsts are on their way :D Anyway, happy reading!

Main Masterlist

Happy and excited. That’s how you feel right now because today is the day you have been waiting for. You have been crossing the dates on the calendar to today’s date. A red “Moving day!” is written on the calendar.

You have packed all your belongings. Stacks of boxes are ready. Your brain tells you that you might need two trips to drive all of them with your car to Wanda’s place.

You have been dating Wanda for an amazing year and a half. Both of you are head over heels in love with each other. You have been giving hints for a few months that you are ready to move in together. Since then, it has been the talk you both have. A month ago, your girlfriend finally agreed to live together.

You are so thrilled and Wanda is happy if you are happy. She knows it from how much you talk about it.

Since then, Wanda has been reorganizing her place for your belongings to fit in. She loves simplicity, her place wasn’t the biggest but it was enough for her to live alone. Wanda tried to prepare everything for you when the day came. Being the overthinking she is, she even did some research on do’s and don'ts or tips for this relationship’s big change.

“I’ll be leaving soon. See you soon,babe!” you texted her. Wanda checks the time then puts her phone down disappointedly. You are late again. The only thing about you that she doesn’t like. Wanda is a punctual person, she hates being late. To watch you being late or waiting for someone who is late is torture to her. Every second slowly but surely irritates her even though she tries not to.

Wanda’s mind starts to spiral before she knows it. All other anxious thoughts force their way to re-exist.

She starts to think what if she has to deal more about being late because of this certain bad habit of yours. What if there are other untolerable habits or differences that show up after both of you living together for some time that might have a domino effect in her relationship with you? Or what if all of this is too soon? Is she actually ready for this? Or is she just doing this to make you happy? What happens if things don’t work out between both of you?

What if…? What if..? What if..? These two words are really pushing Wanda’s to the edge. Her heartbeat starts to double in speed. Her fingertips start to get colder and her hands seem to shake. It’s getting harder for her to breathe. Emotions slowly overfill her heart and mind.

Your Sokovian girlfriend is panicked and scared by now from her overthinking mind. Everything seems spinning. The ticking from the clock on the wall sounds louder gradually in her mind breaking the muffled sound around her. An hour later, the doorbell finally lets her get a break from everything she is experiencing.

Wanda rushes to the door even though her steps feel so heavy. She knows it must be you with all of your stuff, moving in with her. Oh dear, the closer she gets to the door, the heavier her heart feels. Thoughts flash in her mind for a second, the thoughts that you for sure don’t want to hear.

“Hi babe!.” You greet her followed by an apology as you give her a hug. An awkward smile curved on her face. Wanda tries to hold back her spiraling feelings, she is trying hard.

Wanda hugs you back but you know her pretty well, you notice even the slight difference but you try not to overthink. “Y/n, you are late again.” Flat yet irritated was her tone no matter how much she tried to hide it. Wanda glances at the boxes in your car to avoid your gaze whenever you try to look at her.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m working on my punctuality more, Wanda. I promise.” you apologized. You thought that being late was the reason why Wanda seems a little off.

“Well, that’s what you promised three months ago and still, nothing changed.” a snarky comment forced its way out of her lips and you got caught off guard by it. Your forehead creases your eyes while you mind quickly try to figure out what’s going on.

“I’m sorry, Wanda.”

The view of her shrugging her shoulders and her smile slides down to a frown as she turns around then walks away from you. “Wanda, what’s wrong?” you ask and follow her.

Wanda picks up her pace a little to be away from you. “Nothing.” That was all her answer to you. Again, her eyes avoid yours. Everytime you get closer to her, Wanda would move further from you. Walking around from one room to another, she cleans randomly as her steps shift from one spot to another.

“I don’t think we should bring your boxes in yet, detka.” Wanda suggests. Your stomach churns a little after hearing her idea. You love hearing her calling you with any pet names but this time, you are not a fan of it because of the tone.

“Why?” Your eyebrows furrowed. You are waiting for her answer anxiously, standing behind her.

“I’m still cleaning this house, Y/n. That’s why.” Wanda’s tone is slowly filled by such resentment. Her voice raises a little.

“Wanda, the house looks fine and very clean. I know you pretty well. You are cleaning randomly, moving around from one spot to another right now. You only do it when you are upset or something bothers you.”

“No, I’m fine. We can just keep your stuff in your car tonight until I’m done with this house.” Wanda’s tone gets colder.

“Wait, what? What did you mean? Keep them in my car overnight?” your forehead puckered in confusion. “You heard me.” she responds while continuing whatever she is doing with a pout that looks more and more obvious.

“What about my clothes and—” you try to get more clues on what’s going on but Wanda didn’t let you finish. “You can wear mine or borrow whatever you need..”

“But, you told me that everything’s ready. I even made sure with you yesterday about today and you said yes. Something is off, Wanda. Tell me, what’s wrong?” you rambled.

“Nothing..is wrong, y/n.” Wanda denied all your words. You noticed she looks way more unease. You follow her yet Wanda still avoids you from being too close to her.

“No, something is wrong Wanda. You smile differently. You–”

“Y/n..” she calls.

“You didn’t hug me the way you usually do. You–”

“What are you talking about?” Wanda tackled your assumption with the pretend confusion.

“Yeah, you know what I meant, Wanda. You clean randomly and—”

“Oh come on! What stupid theory was that? You should’ve known me, for crying out loud! I..love..to clean.” Wanda lets out her irritation and anger through the way she puts down things.

“You clean loudly. Sometimes you put things or close stuff loudly when you are upset.” you lined up more supportive examples. Wanda walks away from her bedroom to the living room, leaving you but you are determined to get the answer. “Fuck, y/n. Just please stop.” Despite the curse word, Wanda still tries to suppress her voice that’s raising up angrily as she starts to feel cornered.

You take a spot in front of her to block her path of avoidance.“No. No. I won’t stop until I get my answer. What’s going on? Why on earth that all of sudden I can't unload the boxes. I’m really confused right now. There’s–”

She didn’t let you finish once more. “I already told you why.” she gives you a second of death glance before she takes the sideway to walk away from you again.

“Yes, you did but it wasn’t the truth Wanda. You lied. Are you getting cold feet about us living together?” Just like that, your question instantly stopped Wanda and she snapped as she turned around to you.

“What if I am?!” Wanda can no longer keep herself together. She finally spilled the painful truth. meanwhile you are too shocked to respond to it. A soft gasp forced its way to be heard. You swallow hard and your heart drops in a millisecond before the brunette continues to pour her thoughts out.

“What if I’m freaking out right now? This whole thing is too soon, too early or whatever we can call it.” words after words and thoughts after thoughts flowed in such anger the more her mind thought about it.

“Too soon? Wanda, you agreed about this. We have been talking about us living together. We plan this. I thought you wanted it to happen as much as I wanted to?” you argue back with a pinch of genuine confusion.

“Do i, y/n? Or was I on board with it just because you keep giving me hints of what you want? You wanted the truth, right? There it is!” Wanda places both of her hands on her hips as she looks away just so you won’t catch her eyes slowly turning glossy from tears.

After a few seconds of pausing her words, she continued. “You were late coming here, it’s your habit. We both know that. What if you never change? What if there are other things, habits or — or — or differences that trigger us to argue? Imagine if we turn to that couple who fight constantly. What if it doesn’t work out for us?”

Your head hangs low, you look down somewhere random. Anywhere but her eyes. You shake your head slowly followed by a disbelief chuckle. “Wow, you talked like I WILL be or I am the cause that everything won’t work out between us in the future while you are actually the one that shattered the dream that we had. Oh I’m sorry, babe. Let me rephrase that, MY dream, not yours.” you lift up your head and look at her eyes mid sentence and let sarcasm end it.

Your heart aches. In your point of view, Wanda is being unfair to you and it provokes more words out of you. “So you changed your mind?”

Her voice fills the room before the deafening silence ate it all up. You can hear her take a harsh breath. “Y/n—”

“It’s a yes or no question, Wanda.” you demand her answer as you keep looking at her.

Wanda clenches her jaw in silence but it was an obvious shortcut to reach your conclusion. It was enough for you to dig out the answer.

“Y/n, can you just—” Wanda once more trying to avoid your question but you are not having it.

“Leave? Don’t worry, Wanda. I will. I’m gonna go home.” With that, you turn around and walk towards the door. You were hoping that she will try to stop you from leaving but a gut twisting fact shows that she doesn’t even try and just stands there, looking down in an expression that you can’t really decipher. You slammed the door as you walked out that made Wanda flinch a little.

What just happened? Is it over? Was I being selfish? What on earth is going on? Both of you are lost in your own thoughts and questions with no answers. Despite all the thoughts, Wanda stays where she is. She doesn’t know what she feels right now, everything is overwhelming for her even until right this second. She feels drained and tears slowly fill up to the brim of her eyes. Every beat of her heart hurt her. The room feels like an airtight box. Her knees laden. Without her control, the tears finally rolled down her cheeks.

Your brain is multitasking between thinking and focusing on driving. Your knuckles turn white from squeezing the steering wheel as you drive. The more you look at the boxes that are reflected on the back mirror of your car, the more heartache you feel. The day that was supposed to be one of the happiest days in your relationship with Wanda went downhill in a blur. It all happened so fast, too fast actually. Your mind is still processing everything that just happened on your whole way back to your place.

This was the first big fight ever in your relationship and Wanda.

_____

You and Wanda give each other space for two days. That one text she sent you and you didn't reply, Wanda took it as you needed your time alone.

While waiting in silence, Wanda starts to ponder, not just one but many things. Everything that happened that day kept playing in her head over and over again bringing her sense to the surface.

Wanda slowly admits to herself that she was too harsh on you and her anxiety got the best of her. Guilt starts to build up in her heart. Her mind has been filled up with everything about you. Without you, Wanda feels empty and she doesn’t like how it feels when you are not around her. Her heart is longing for your presence and affection. She misses the cheerful side of you that always breaks the silence around the house. All your jokes, laughs and your companion always make her days so meaningful

Wanda’s memory starts to remind her that you indeed have tried your best to fix the bad habits for her as much as she does for you. RIght now, she feels like a fool for forgetting about it.

A week has passed, the more she tries to give you the space and time you need, the harder it gets for her and the more she misses you. Her love for you finally conquered all of her overthinking thoughts. She knows she can’t live without you. Wanda loves you too much to lose you.

_____

With a heavy heart, you just started unpacking the first sealed box that you brought to Wanda's house.

You exhaled harshly right after you heard a knock on your apartment door. You are really not in the mood for having visitors but you get up anyway just in case it’s something important. You see Wanda through the peeping hole.

You stayed quiet behind the door and decided not to answer it. You hear another knock and Wanda softly talks. “Detka, it’s me. Please open the door for me.” You can’t deny that you miss her with every bit in you. As much as you want to let her in, you are still hurt with what happened.

“I know you are in there, y/n. It’s your day off today and I see your car too.” Wanda paused for a little bit and waited for your answer.

Your heart feels heavier from hearing her tone that sounds sadder second by second.

“Y/n, sweetheart, please. I need to tell you that I’m sorry, truly sorry. I miss you. Please let me talk with you.” Wanda’s voice turns shakier while trying to keep herself together from all the sadness and pain she is having from her guilt. You see her through the peeping hole one more time only to find her wiping her tears. It was just a little tear but you know it’s a lot for her.

Wanda heard you finally unlock the door and it’s slowly ajar. She sees you turn your back on her as she walks in. Sparky runs to you and you pet him for a little bit. Wanda waits for you to turn around and see her.

A smile instantly shows up at the same time with her emotional tears as soon as you turn around. “Hi, my love.” she pauses her words once more. The pet name she just called you with

“Hi.. you–uh you lost your spare key?” you ask. You really want to hug Wanda, you don’t like seeing her green eyes get all teary but you hope your small sarcastic question will hide it.

“No, I still have it but I just didn’t want to just walk in here unannounced just in case you– you don’t want to see me.” Wanda slowly lets out her understanding answer. Her eyes search for yours.

You always love how Wanda is so thoughtful and respect your personal space too. It hits you too, some guilt slowly shows up.

Wanda notices the box that you were unpacking. Her lips slightly open in surprise.

“Are you unpacking the boxes?” she asked awkwardly.

“Yeah, I have to.” you start to make yourself look busy to avoid more eye contact with her. You unpack more boxes and walk around just like Wanda did.

Wanda’s reaction is different from yours. She quickly grabs your wrist gently but firm enough to catch your attention.

“Y/n, I have something to say. Can you look at me please?”

Her sad tone finally drags your eyes to her glossy green eyes. "Okay, Wanda. I'm all ears." you stated.

Wanda takes a deep breath slowly as she holds your hands before she starts her ramble. “I’m so sorry for how I was and what I said that day. My–my anxiety and overthinking got the best of me. I should’ve talked about it with you in a better way. I promise I will work on my overthinking and will talk about it together.” She pauses while her thumbs rub the back of your hands.

“Days without you really got me thinking. It’s so quiet without you, your voice, even your texts and I don’t like it. I miss us. I miss doing a lot of things with you, I miss your jokes and laugh. I even miss waiting for you to get ready while I’m worried that we are getting late.” Wanda lets out an awkward little chuckle at the end to distract you from noticing her being vulnerable.

You stand closer to her as she continues. “I’m sorry. Please give me another chance. I really don’t like my girlfriend being away from me too long. I promise I’ll work on my bad habits.” Wanda runs her perfect looking fingers through your hair gently.

Your heart melts under her touches and who can say know to those gorgeous eyes? Not even you.

“Apology accepted. I will always give you chances because you always do the same to me.” you giggle a little. You put both hands on her shoulders right away after she pulls you closer.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Wanda”

Both of you instantly tangle in a long soft kiss. You miss her sweet lips touching yours. You and Wanda let out relieved sighs in the kiss. She feels alive again having you so close to her. She doesn’t want to lose you anymore but you can feel that she stops the kiss. Wanda pulls her face away from you. She looks at you dearly.

“Did you notice Sparky’s new collar’s tag?” Wanda asked in a whisper.

“No, what is it?” you asked back but your curiosity doesn’t want to wait so you call him only to find him standing behind you.

You turn around to pick him up as you notice his new collar. "Aaw it's a key shape collar with I Love You engraved on it. That's so sweet. Ouh does it mean you want me to move in with you now?" You ask Wanda while giving Sparky some love and not paying attention to what your girlfriend is doing behind you. She chuckles nervously.

"Well, turn it around and check it out." Wanda gives you a clue and shortly after she hears you let out a surprised gasp.

Will you marry me?

It's engraved in the back of Sparky's collar. You quickly turn around only to find Wanda gets on one knee, holding an opened box with a ring in it.

"Malyshka, it has been a great year since you came to my life. Everything has turned so beautiful since then and when we were away that long, I felt devastated. I don't want us to be like that anymore. I promise we will communicate better to work on our bad habits, problems and solve them together. I just want us to grow better and grow old together. I promise I will be a better wife than I was as your girlfriend. Will you marry me, Y/n Y/l/n?" Her eyes twinkle with hope and love for you.

Bubbles of joy burst in you and spread the thrill all over you. Your eyes and Wanda’s get teary at the same time as she sees you smile from ear to ear. You are speechless.

“Is that a yes? Say something please, y/n? Should I take that as a yes?” Row of questions line up out of her. Her hands are a little shaky. Your heart beats faster. You know you blush so hard because you can feel the rush in you. You nod eagerly. “Yes! Of course Yes!”

Both of you start to laugh in tears of happiness and Wanda puts the ring on your finger. You pull her up to hug and kiss her shortly after. Sparky barks and wags his tails. Excitedly licks your cheeks and Wanda’s in turns in the warmest group hug that always feels like home to you.

“Let’s come home, detka.”

“You are my home.” you replied and Wanda sealed your lips with more short loving kisses. Both of you smile in the kisses.

A/N: Welp, that's all from me today. I hope you like it. Let me know what you think. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated. Follow me for more.

Cheerio!

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#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff fanfic #wanda maximoff angst #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff au #marvel modern au #wanda maximoff fanfiction

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hanniluvi · 9 months

Text

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 — TEN THINGS I HATE ; JAY FIC

“ I’ll do better, if you stay with me like this. ”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ where jay keeps a journal where he documents all the reasons he hates you, his rival. despite claiming he will forever hate you, keeping this journal only makes him realize his feelings for you.

PAIRING rival!jay x gn!reader

GENRE angst, fluff — WARNINGS jealousy ; overthinking !

WORD COUNT 1.7K+ (1730)

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ soph strikes again!! angst cb, did we cheer?? anyways i was in the feels okay 😢 listening to music while writing really unlocks something in ur brain im telling you…idk what really went thru my mind when making this but enjoy 😊🫶

#1 – HOW YOU’RE GOOD AT EVERYTHING.

Is it normal to have a journal dedicated to someone you hate? Whatever, I just need to get this off my chest. Whenever you’re involved, it’s like I could have nothing I want. It’s stupid, but I don’t care, it just pisses me off when you easily follow instructions, perfect things on your first try, and get all the awards I wish to have. I admit, jealousy consumes me. It's frustrating how effortlessly you seem to achieve anything you want without even trying. Seeing your achievements plastered all over the school only intensifies my anger, making me wish I could tear your posters into shreds. I've never despised second place more than now. Why can't I find contentment with my own scores or position, just like you? How can I remove you from my life and find peace within myself?

#2 – HOW CHEERFUL YOU ARE.

How is it possible for someone to remain so happy throughout the entire day? I can't help but wonder if you possess some magical influence over my friends, as they seem to shower you with compliments non-stop. It's weird to hear nothing but praise for you while I find myself complaining about various things. It's almost as if nobody comprehends why I harbor such animosity towards you, and this frustrates me immensely. Every time I express my emotions, they tell me to laugh and smile more, as if I don't already do it enough. But then, when I contemplate your cheerful and positive demeanor, it becomes clear why they encourage it. You're like the epitome of a model student everyone aspires to be, while I remain the perpetually angry and stubborn person. No wonder everyone wants to spend time with you, and perhaps that's one thing I can agree with others on.

#3 – YOU LIKE THINGS THAT I LIKE.

It's almost like a curse that we share the same interests. It's the reason I keep encountering you everywhere. Whatever I do, you seem to be there, expressing your fondness for the same things with your friends. It's frustrating, and I can't help but roll my eyes at the thought of encountering you even more. Even listening to music has become a challenge, as I know you like the same artists. I purposely skip their songs because they only remind me of you, and I hate being consumed by thoughts of you. I yearn to stop learning more about you so that I can enjoy the things I like in peace, without these constant reminders of you.

#4 – YOU MAKE ME OVERTHINK.

Maybe because of how perfect you seem to be in other’s eyes, I wonder how I look in other people’s eyes too. Am I that awful to hang out with? Am I always seen as this angry person who hates everyone? I’m not that, I know that–my friends do as well. But others? I’m not so sure about that. What confuses me even more is why you persist in wanting to spend time with me despite any perceived flaws or stubbornness on my part. You could easily choose to be with other people who might seem better to converse with. Yet, you continue to stick around, refusing to give up on our “friendship”. And because of this, I can see how others might form a negative opinion about me. My constant push to keep you away could be misunderstood, leading people to believe I'm simply a horrible person.

#5 – YOU LIKE ME.

I'm not sure if you have romantic feelings for me, but I can tell that you consider me a friend. It's interesting because I hadn't thought of you in that way before, but it doesn't seem to bother you. Today, you stood up for me, and it felt really heartening. Normally, I might have felt angry or vulnerable when someone defends me, but this time it was different. I don’t know, it just did feel really nice. Your quick response in telling those people to stop was captivating, even though I didn't express my gratitude at the moment. Lately, I've been struggling with the loud voices in my head, and sometimes I wonder if you could help quiet them too. But now, I'm not sure what I'm trying to convey. You confuse me a lot.

#6 – YOU GIVE THE WRONG PEOPLE SECOND CHANCES.

The other day, I saw you in tears because someone had broken your heart. I must admit, I was taken aback because I had never seen you sad or upset before. It was quite a contrast to the cheerful version of yourself that I'm familiar with. What happened to you that everyone sees all the time? I hope you had someone to tell you your problems too, as it’s not easy for someone who is your rival to be comforting you. I didn’t, so I hope you went home that night filled with less worries because you have someone to talk with.

What surprised me even more was that the very next day, you gave the person who hurt you a second chance. I can't help but wonder why you keep allowing people to hurt you when it's likely they'll repeat the same behavior, ultimately affecting your radiant smile. Stop going back to the people that hurt you once, it’s only going to be a cycle. I wish I could share these thoughts with you, but I hesitate because I doubt you'd take them to heart coming from someone like me. However, I can't help caring despite my own imperfections. It's puzzling to me as well, as you make me feel oddly connected to your feelings.

#7 – SEEING YOUR TEARS.

I never imagined how much I could despise seeing someone cry until the moment I witnessed your tears. Ever since that day, I always thought about it, so how could I let it slip out of my mind this time? I’m sorry for yelling at you today. I’m sorry for saying I hate you. I didn’t mean it, I was just extremely frustrated today, and not at you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I know how saying this won’t do anything, but I truly mean it. I wish I could rewind time once I saw water fill up in your eyes, but what’s done is done. You made me realize something crucial—that I've always seen you as a rival, whereas you only wanted to be friends with me. I allowed my competitive nature to ruin our chances of a meaningful connection. I fear now that you might avoid me, and I understand if you do. I worry that I might continue to hurt you, just like the people you often encounter, who don't treat you with the kindness you deserve. You deserve better than that, and I'm sorry for contributing to your pain.

#8 – GIVING ME ANOTHER CHANCE.

I never imagined we'd get another chance after what happened. I tried avoiding you, genuinely attempting to keep my distance. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't resist reaching out to talk to you again. It's almost as if we both sensed the need to address the situation, leading us to have that important conversation. I still don’t know why you gave me another chance. Did I not say hurtful things to you? How easily are you able to put that behind? Your ability to forgive and move past it leaves me in awe.

It's making me reflect on my own flaws, especially how I tend to hold grudges and struggle to let go of negative feelings. I can't quite comprehend how you do it, but you make me think about you more than ever before. Every word I speak now feels like it needs to be carefully considered, thanks to your presence in my thoughts. Your gesture of offering another chance touched me deeply and brought a smile to my face. I can't help but wonder what you've done to influence me in this way. I think you really did something to me.

#9 – FEELINGS, FEELINGS, FEELINGS.

We've connected much faster than I anticipated, even surprising my friends. I'm left wondering what you've done to me. You've become an all-encompassing thought – your smile, your laughter, your sense of humor – everything about you fills my mind. At times, I ponder whether I ever cross your thoughts too. Could this be love? My friends have mentioned it, and I can't find a way to refute them. I'm fond of you, immensely so. Isn't that a crazy twist?

It's a strange journey we're on. I started this journal to document the reasons I disliked you, but look at where it's led us. Is it too soon to be feeling this way? The idea of revealing my feelings is terrifying, yet I'm unsure if I'll ever have another opportunity. Please bear with me, allow me to find the right moment. Perhaps soon, hopefully, you'll be in my arms. I realize how absurd all this sounds – what am I even saying?

#10 – HOW EASY YOU WON ME OVER.

You won. You won my heart effortlessly, but I didn't win yours in return. I'm burdened with regret for how I've treated you. My ignorance and neglect weigh heavily on me now. It's painfully clear that he's all you've ever been able to think about. Why did I delude myself into thinking I could make a difference? If only I had treated you with the kindness you deserved from the start. Could that have made you love me instead? These thoughts haunt me.

I've grown aware of my own attachment, and I'm sorry for allowing it to consume me. I apologize for the disruption I've caused in your recent weeks. I can't bring myself to be genuinely happy for you and him, though he does seem like a better man than I could ever be. It's evident that I need to move on for your sake, to make things easier for you. Yet, there's a part of me that wishes I could still claim you as mine. That longing will always remain unchanged.

I doubt you'll ever stumble upon this journal entry, not that I would ever permit anyone to. But regardless, I want you to know that I do love you. It's a truth that's etched deeply within me, even though it pains me to admit it.

💭 — fun fact this was supposed to have a happy ending until i pulled out spotify n listened to lyn lapid…yeah.

ENHA PERM TAGLIST (🎥) — @flwoie @ixomiyu @yenavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @starcubes @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @woon2u @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @whoschr @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @flwrshee @skzenhalove @misokei @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @miercerise @litttlestars @enhapocketz

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golden-barnes · 1 year

Text

Operation milkshakes, hospital visits and custody of Mr Bear

Paring: Beefy and Teacher! Bucky x milf! reader Summary: Sequel to Operation get Mr Bucky and Momma together. Bucky and Reader are finally on their little coffee date, but Amaya gets hurt. Then there's a shared custody to heal a broken arm. {wc: 2.7k} Warning: a bit of bucky being insecure again and a bit of insecurity from reader . Some sexual references bit of tension but its mostly fluff. Amaya gets hurt but it's brief. if you don't like a milf reader pls don't interact I don't want to get hate like last time lmao a/n: I have been writing this for years it seems and I finally am able to finish it and I'm so happy I hope you guys enjoy it. I am gonna try and finish all of my stories this month to be able to do other stuff. I am so sorry if it's shitty as hell, I tried my best to fight the writter's block Reblogs and comments are appreciated.

Is Bucky embarrassed that he has been texting none stop with his student’s mom? Yes, but who will stop him from feeling like he is walking on cloud nine? For the past few weeks, Bucky has been texting you back and forth whenever you had a break.

Unfortunately, you haven’t been able to get that cup of coffee because of work, but Bucky knew he had found his match. Funny, intelligent, and the sweetest person he has ever met.

Fuck, I feel like a love-struck schoolboy. Bucky thinks, cursing at himself while passing the exam papers to his students. Amaya smiled at him, basically giving him a knowing smirk. Holy shit, he feels blackmailed by a 6-year-old.

She has no idea that Bucky and her mom are on a talking stage, but that doesn’t stop her from smirking at her teacher, who her mom has told her auntie that her teacher was cute. And that was enough for her already planning your wedding where she gets to be a flower girl.

Bucky sat down at his desk when he felt his phone vibrate. The notification had your name on it, almost making Bucky jump out of his seat.

Hey, one of my clients canceled for Friday. U wanna get that coffee?

Bucky couldn’t seem to write yes faster. He felt so happy, but shit, what was he going to wear? His closet comprises of henleys and sweaters. The occasional tank tops are there, but they weren’t the norm. He dresses like a middle-aged librarian, and he is proud of it. But, on the other hand, maybe he was overthinking it.

“Dude, it’s a coffee date. Not a Michelin restaurant.” Steve rolls his eyes at Bucky’s rant. Bucky told his best friends about inner turmoil and why he was so stressed. Sam just laughed at him.

“We don’t know about that one Rogers; she is a fancy lawyer for a fancy firm. She’s probably making the big bucks.” Sam winked at Bucky, which made him feel even more stressed.

What if they dated, and she felt embarrassed to show him to her lawyer friends? He is on a New York Public school salary, it’s a miracle he has enough money to live alone, but he was going to be rooming with Steve.

“Sam, stop torturing him, please. I can see the smoke coming out of his ears.” Wanda explained, heating up her lunch and smirking at her extremely stressed friend.

“He is just so fun to mess with.”Sam whined while Bucky couldn’t help but scoff.

“I am glad my suffering is your enjoyment, but I am about to run away to New Jersey and live as a hermit because I haven’t been on a date since college, and I have no fucking clue what to wear. Help me.” Bucky rambles, almost out of breath. Sam bites back a chuckle while Steve just looks worried. Wanda sighs; being the only person with brain cells in the teacher’s lounge is difficult.

“Bucky, wear that brown blazer you wore at my engagement party. Maybe a blue henley underneath. You did say she thought you looked hot in those, so who cares, honestly. “ Wanda Maximoff, the voice of reason to these messy elementary school teachers once again.

Bucky should stop asking these things to Sam and Steve and just ask go directly to Wanda.

(Y/N) wasn't doing that great either. She really liked Bucky; he was a hot guy but caring and smart. He made her laugh with his dorky quotes and references. He was well-read and gave her excellent book recommendations.

More importantly, Amaya loved him. Every day she would show up rambling about something he had done in class that made her very happy. Whether it was telling her a funny story using Mister Bear, Bucky’s teaching assistant that Amaya adored, or handing her a fruit roll-up when the other kids weren't looking. Bucky was her favorite teacher, but it mostly felt like he had taken a father role that she needed.

One thing that made her stress out was how she was perceived. She had been on dates before, and every time the men went home running with their tails between their legs after feeling threatened by her confidence and career.

Being a single mother and a powerful lawyer really fucked over her chances of dating. Apparently, knowing your worth and what you want doesn’t make you that appealing to men, especially these insecure, fragile masculinity-having assholes.

But Bucky seemed different; he knew she had a kid and an influential career and still wanted to date her? He was different.

“You still overthinking this date?” Her coworker and close friend, Jen, asked her. Nat rolled her eyes, knowing (Y/N) like the back of her hand.

“She has been making a pros and cons list on her computer for the past hour. Girl, he likes you. No grown man texts you romantic quotes at 3 am without sending a you up? Text.” Natasha rambles but (Y/N) sighs. She knows what Nat is saying is correct, but still… She didn’t want to make things awkward for ‘Maya.

“She has it really bad, but he seems so sweet. It’s just a coffee date; get to know him in person.” Jen tried to comfort her. She patted her shoulder, sorta giving (Y/N) a side hug.

“Now on to date outfits. I say a plaid skirt and a sweater. The skimpiest skirt you have.” Nat grins evilly.

“It’s a coffee date, not a hookup.” (Y/N) laughs at her suggestion.

“Whatever you say, but that man’s shoulders are so broad that it wouldn’t be surprising if your legs were on them after the night.” Nat shrugs, but (Y/N) and Jenn laugh at the sexual joke.

“I am trying not to give Maya a sibling yet.” (Y/N) threw a piece of paper at Nat.

“Yet is the keyword in that sentence.” Nat winked at her comment.

Bucky was shifting his weight on the chair. They had decided to meet at this cute little café that opened about a month ago. It was right next to a bookstore that Bucky loved so much, and coincidently (Y/N) took Amaya a lot to get her story time books.

“Sorry I am late; traffic was horrible.” Bucky swore his breath was stolen from his chest because the minute he saw her, he felt like his lungs didn’t have air.

“I- uhm, I get it. You look beautiful, by the way.” (Y/N) smiled at his compliment while sitting right before him.

“You don’t look bad yourself.” She winked at the teacher, who started sweating bullets once she began to compliment him.

“Are you ready to order?” The waitress asks the couple. (Y/N) nods while Bucky just looks puzzled at the menu. She smiled at him.

“Give us a minute, please.” (Y/N) said kindly.

“Do you have any idea what you are going to order? If you don’t mind me asking?” Bucky asks sheepishly, but the woman just smiles.

“I am dying to try this plum strudel, especially since Maya isn’t here to steal my pieces. And I need a milkshake.” (Y/N) explained; Bucky couldn’t help but laugh.

“Amaya is a bit of a sugar fiend, isn’t she? I can’t even eat my fruits in peace without her looking at me as if I stole them from her.” Bucky joked, (Y/N) rolled her eyes because she knew her daughter.

“It’s not a shocker. It’s practically my fault. When I was pregnant with her, all I did was eat candy. I have a sweet tooth, but she’s like a sugar monster.” She explained, reminiscing all the pregnancy cravings she had. Bucky laughed at her comment.

“You sure you don’t want coffee?” Bucky asks all of a sudden. Finding it weird that she is ordering a milkshake at a café. She shook her head.

“Oh god, no. It would be my 5th coffee this day. I’ve had back-to-back meetings, and every meeting has a coffee run. Then there’s the coffee between every 15-page contract I have to write.” Bucky chuckles because that seems like he is the same in a completely different way.

“I get you. After grading my 10th paper, I’ve already drank 3 cups of coffee. My record is 7 in one day. I was planning on getting the milkshake too.” Bucky joked, (Y/N) laughed.

“So we are two coffee addicts on a coffee date, but we aren’t gonna drink any coffee. Got it.” (Y/N) smirked at Bucky. He felt his ears getting red. Suck it up, Bucky; she hasn’t even said anything sexual. She is just being funny. Bucky said to himself.

“It appears that we are. I hope you don’t mind, but I’mma order the same thing as you. I love plums. My ma makes the best plum pie I’ve ever eaten.” Bucky rambled, trying to stop himself from buckling under her gaze. Suddenly (Y/N)’s phone rings.

“Hey MJ, what’s up? Oh what? I am on my way.” (Y/N) hangs up, her face turns somber, and her eyes are filled with tears.

“I am so sorry, Bucky, but I have to go. Amaya fell, and the babysitter told me she won't stop crying. Her arm might be broken, and I must take her to the hospital.” She says, gathering up her purse. She was shaking, trying to stand up, but her legs were shaking. Bucky stands up to help her.

“Can you drive?” (Y/N) shook her head, worried because Amaya was always careful. She runs around like any normal kid but is ultra-cautious about getting hurt. Bucky extended his hand, and she grabbed it.

She gave him the directions to her house so Bucky could drive her home. She hadn’t really said anything during the entire ride; Bucky didn’t know what to do, so he did what he did best. Ramble on.

“You know I broke my arm around the same age. But mine was in a fight.” Bucky said, which got (Y/N)’s attention.

“Back when we were kids, Steve was the smallest kid in our classroom, and there was this kid named Tom; he kept pushing him and making fun of him. So one day, I stood up for him and decided I could fight Tom. I should mention that Tom was 2 grades above us, so anyway, he pushed me so hard that I fell. Broke my arm and wasn’t allowed to go to recess anymore. My teacher, Sally, knew that Tom was a bully and got me a lesser sentence.” Bucky told her. She smiled.

“So you were a troublemaker as a kid. Kinda like my ‘Maya.” She joked, smiling, talking about her little girl.

“Oh, Amaya is a little angel in comparison to me. She is manipulative as hell, but she’s a sweet kid. Takes after her mom.” Bucky complimented. (Y/N) sighed at his compliment.

“I tried my best. It’s not easy, you know. Being a single mom. Sometimes I think I don’t do enough and that I am never there, but-”

“Listen, I have been a teacher for a while now. I have seen parents who don’t care and never show up for their kids. You aren’t one of them. I know for a fact that every Wednesday, you take her to a museum or an interactive place. You are her person, and I think you are a fantastic mom. “ Bucky interrupts. He grabs her hand, and she squeezes it. Bucky parks in front of her house. Her big ass house. He keeps forgetting that she is, in fact, a well-paid lawyer.

Amaya did indeed have a broken arm. Bucky had to carry her to the car and into the hospital. He even sat with her when she was getting her X-ray while (Y/N) talked with the doctors.

“I wish all dads were like you. You really made this a lot easier for her.” The nurse said, looking directly at Bucky, who was holding a very tired Amaya. Bucky felt his ears getting warm.

“I’m not her dad.” The nurse scoffed at Bucky’s correction.

“Could’ve fooled me with how she’s so attached to you.” She noted. (Y/N) walked into the room with the doctor.

“Hey, ‘Maya.” The little girl in Bucky’s arms stirred at the sound of her mom’s soothing voice. (Y/N)’s eyes were puffy, probably from crying at seeing her baby in pain. Bucky wanted to hug her and Amaya, but he couldn’t really move with a child in his arms with a broken arm.

“The doctor needs you to sit on the little table over there to check you out.” (Y/N) said, which caused Amaya to slightly shake her head and grip Bucky’s arm with her non-broken hand. (Y/N) looked at Bucky in the eyes, almost pleading with him to help.

“Amaya, if you sit there, you’ll get to take Mister Bear for the entire month.” Bucky wasn’t new to bribing kids, it’s sometimes the last resort, but Bucky knew how much Amaya loved Mister Bear. The little girl smiled weakly and turned to look at her doctor. (Y/N) smiled at Bucky, she mouthed him a thank you. Bucky was sure his cheeks were glowing red.

“Please, Mister Bucky, sign my cast.” Amaya said, giving him a pen to sign her super bright pink cast. Finally, she calmed down after they put the cast on her, and she got to pick a color. Then, they returned to (Y/N)’s house, where MJ, the babysitter, was still in the place, worried for little Maya.

Bucky laughed, signing his name on her cast and adding a roughly made butterfly. Amaya giggled at the butterfly. Bucky didn’t even notice (Y/N) walking towards them.

“How are we gonna do the custody for Mister Bear?” She asks, noticing that Amaya is walking towards MJ so she would sign her cast.

“Well, I use it as a teaching tool, so I have to have it during the day.” Bucky explained. (Y/N) nodded.

“And I can’t pick up Maya this week because I am in court all day.” She added.

“I can bring him over after work if you want. “ Bucky suggests. (Y/N) extends her hand for Bucky to shake it.

“I can agree to that, Mr. Barnes.” She said, smiling at Bucky.

Bucky could die right now, and he would be happy. But who would’ve known that a ruined date could be saved by a shared custody agreement of a teddy bear with a 6-year-old?

For the past week, Bucky brought Mister Bear for Amaya to play with. After giving the girl the bear, he wouldn’t leave the house. Oh no, no. (Y/N) would give him food, and he would even eat dinner with them. They talked for hours about shows, movies, their childhoods, and just everything they could think of with a glass of wine. Amaya would go to bed, and they would stay up talking, even if they had to wake up early.

Bucky and (Y/N) had told Amaya that he was staying over for dinner in exchange for Mister Bear because saying, “Hey, mama and your teacher like each other a lot, but you can’t tell anyone” is too much for a 6-year-old.

What they didn’t count for was that Amaya was too smart for her own good. She knew it was strange that Bucky stayed for dinner and that her mom would wear her “special” perfume whenever Mister Bucky came over. So is this how she’s gonna get a dad? And all she had to do was break her arm.

Bucky was talking to Steve when Amaya approached him with a book. Both men turned their attention to the little girl with the bright pink cast.

“Mister Bucky, Mister Bear and I want to read this book tonight. Could you bring it over later?” Steve’s eyes widened, and he turned to his best friend, bewildered by the revelation made by the kid.

Bucky nodded, trying not to speak because he felt like Steve would have a heart attack if he had verbal confirmation that he was going to (Y/N)’s house every day.

“James Buchannan Barnes, are you sleeping with your student’s mom?”Steve whisper-s creamed once Amaya was out of hearing range.

“I am not sleeping with her… We just eat dinner together, and I bring Mister Bear for Amaya. It’s our custody agreement.” Bucky tried to explain, but Steve looked like the vein on his forehead would pop.

“Fuck Bucky, you are in deep shit now,” Steve whispered. Wait until Bucky tells him he is utterly in love with his student’s mom. Oh shit, what?

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barns x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader

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lfghughes · 10 months

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Could we get something where y/n and Jack go out to dinner with the team and y/n is being really needy. Jack at first is kinda pushing her away and trying to distract himself from her but really he’s just super flustered because of how much he can’t say no to her. Eventually when they get home they just cuddle and make out all night. So much love for u!!

a/n: no! so much love for you okay?! thank you for sending this request in

Nine out of ten times you were okay with going out to dinner and drinks with everyone from the team and Jack. Tonight though you had kind of wanted to just have Jack more to yourself and to spend the night at home but everyone had agreed to go out a few nights back and you didn’t want to cancel or to have Jack cancel. Your arms went around his waist as you reached up to press a kiss to his lips but one ultimately ended up not being enough for you as you continued on. Before you could really turn this one kiss into a make out session, Jack had pulled away. “Nuh uh, you’re going to either make us late or not show up at all.”

If there was one thing Jack hated it was having to tell you no but he also knew how easily he could get lost in you and that if he kept on kissing you then he wasn’t going to be able to just stop there. A small pout grew on your lips when he had pulled away and he once again shook his head. “None of that.” You were already cutting it close and with how traffic was in the city, you needed to head out now or you’d be late regardless of a make out session or not.

At the restaurant you both took your seats after greeting everyone else, somehow you had made it just in time. After you ordered some food your hand mindlessly went to Jacks thigh, your fingers drawing small circles. You only realized your own actions when Jacks hand went on top of yours and brushed it off of him. Immediately you felt your heart sink a little and you knew it was mostly your brain just overthinking it because it’s not like you had done anything to make Jack upset with you.

You looked over at him and instead noticed the pink tinge that had grown on his cheeks. “You okay, Jack?” Nico asked from across the table and Jack let out a small cough. “Oh yeah, totally fine. Actually I’ll be right back. Gotta use the restroom.” His cheeks got slightly pinker as he got up from his seat and disappeared deeper into the restaurant. When he came back the rest of the night went by a lot smoother and before you knew it you were finally back home in your own bed.

“I know you’re not about to go to sleep.” Jack had just walked back into the room after taking a shower, slipping into your bed and the smell of his soap filled your nostrils. His hands went to your waist, pulling you closer to him until he could reach you to kiss you. Immediately he had deepened the kiss, his tongue moving against yours. A small groan left his lips before he pulled away. “You don’t understand how hard it was to keep my hands off you in that restaurant.” He mumbled quietly to you. “And just all the things I was thinking of doing to you when we got home did not help.” His lips went to your neck, pulling your shirt sleeve to the side slightly so he could press his lips to your shoulder. “Well are you going to show me some of those things?”

#jack hughes #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader

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brnesblogposts · 2 months

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Loving you is the best thing i’ve ever done.

(repost)

pairing: matty healy x reader

warnings: angst, fluff, mental health ?

reblogs appreciated if you liked it :)

Staring at the ceiling, a million thoughts going through your head at once. Trying so hard to keep the tears from falling but the overthinking caught up to you as quiet sobs escaped your lips, trying to keep quiet as to not wake up the peaceful looking man beside you.

Your brain had yet again convinced you that you didn’t deserve love, that everyone was pretending to like you but in reality was repulsed by you. This kind of spiral hadn’t happened in awhile but it creeped up on you tonight and all you could do was ride it through and hope you felt better in the morning.

He started to stir beside you while you held your breath hoping you hadn’t woke him, being a burden to him as he was finally getting a good nights sleep is not what you wanted to do. You squeezed your eyes shut trying to stop the tears when you felt a hand push hair out of your face.

“Baby?” his soft voice broke the silence, “what’s wrong, darling?” he asked while looking at you with concern.

“I’m sorry, i’m so sorry” you repeated as you held your palms over your face. You climbed out of bed and went to leave the bedroom before his voice stopped you,

“where are you going?” there was a sadness to it, but that was probably because you’d woken him up, he’s better off without you anyway.

“I’ll just sleep on the sofa, go back to sleep I won’t bother you anymore” and before you could leave the room he leaped out of bed and grabbed your arm, turning you around where you could see his eyes sparkling in the dim lighting.

“Talk to me, did I do something?” he asked and you felt horrible for making him think he was the cause of your outburst.

“No, no it’s my fault, i’m sorry I disturbed you, i’m sorry for everything” you rambled on.. “what do you mean?” he asked while his thumbs stroked your cheeks, wiping away the tears.

“I’m sorry for being a burden, I know i’m annoying and weird and you put up with me out of pity, you deserve someone better, someone not.. broken” your tears falling harder now.

“I’m sorry for the shit you’ve had to put up with, Matty. I’m fucked in the head” you wanted the ground to swallow you whole, you felt vulnerable and like a freak.

“Listen to me, hey” he tilted your head up to look him in the eyes, “You. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, you are never and could never be a burden. you know more than anyone how much I hate sincerity but I can do it with you, because you are my person. I love you. Don’t let your brain convince you otherwise”

He pulled you into his chest and let you ball, at some point moving you both to sit on the bed. Matty was stroking your hair and shushing you in a reassuring manner, telling you it was gonna be okay, eventually the sound of your sobs died down and you pushed away from Matty’s chest to wipe a hand over your eyes and push your now damp hair behind your ears.

“Baby, I need you to know that whenever you’re having these thoughts you can talk to me, I never want you to feel like you’re going through it alone because you’re not.” He put his hands on your upper arms and reassured you, “We’re all a little bit fucked up in the head, it’s apart of the human experience, there’s gonna be bad days but the good ones outweigh them, you’re the funniest, most loving, accepting and caring person i know, not to mention smoking hot” at that you let out a little laugh.

“You’re stuck with me, I love you and all your quirks and even that silly little beautiful brain of yours” he kissed the top of your head and pulled you into his side,

“I’m trying so hard to believe you but my brain won’t let me” you replied.

“Well know I mean it, even if you don’t believe me, it’s true.” He motioned for you to move back over to your side and you did, he got back under the covers and held out his arm as you shuffled into his side.

“Try get some sleep, okay? I’m right here if you need me” another kiss to the crown of your head as he started mindlessly brushing his fingers through your hair.

“I love you” you mumbled as sleep started to take over,

“I know” is all you heard before you passed out listening to the comforting sound of his heartbeat.

#matty healy #matty healy x reader #matty healy angst #matty the 1975 #matty x reader #matty healy x you #matty healy x y/n #the 1975 #the 1975 fic

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cass-rambles · 3 months

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honestly I'm probably overthinking this, but I think it's an interesting detail that in the Unmortricken episode during the whole "trap Saw box" shit we've got this shot of Evil Morty sort of disappointed/dismayed RIGHT as we've got our Morty Prime telling Rick to "take the shot".

Like he's got the sort of annoyed, sort of cast down look for a few seconds (because right after we have the "We both hate Rick Prime more than each other either way" thing) and I'm reading way too much into this, but it makes me think that he does give a shit about Morty, despite his Very Constant Denial.

I mean taking all aspects of the episode under consideration, we've got several scenes where it is heavily underlined that Evil Morty does not care about Rick C-137 nor Morty, even being blunt about it and telling everyone to fuck off or it won't end well.

It's not that I don't believe he wants to be left alone, he very pointedly does, Buttttt I think E!Morty does hold some form of "softness" or positive emotions towards Morty.

Looking at their characteristics in the episode, I know most of the other fans have noticed that our "main" Morty's character seemed to have regressed for the ep to more of s1/s2 behavior, making him look more "whiney" and weak in comparison to Evil Morty. I think it's to point out that if we Had our Morty's normal behavior from even previous episodes of season 7, we'd be able to see how SIMILAR both of them are now.

(I mean c'mon, I get you rushed his character a little, but to fuck it right back to season 1/2 during a significant mid season finale? You've gotta have a bigger reason for it.)

In either case, it's likely that we have an episode of Morty sub-consciously trying his hardest not to act like Evil Morty (That's why we got the development regression for an episode) as Evil Morty seemingly just acts like himself, merely underlining that he does not care.

"This didn't make us friends" okay??? Then why even wait for Prime Morty at all to join Rick in his beat down w Rick Prime? Don't get me wrong, Evil Morty won't suddenly develop attachment to him out of thin air, but imo he sees all the potential Prime Morty has yet is currently wasting it.

It's sort of a little nod to how insane it is of a parallel that Ricks can't fucking stand one another or themselves, immediately trying to one up the other or kill, as to how Mortys can co-exist peacefully and work together without any unhealthy character implements. (Fun fact: If you're into mortycest in one of the comics two Mortys sleep w each other. So we've got established selfcest in canon too if you're imagining and rolling Evil Morty's and Morty's relationship into a more romantic ball court.)

Another little detail I noticed, we have a moment where Rick shoots at Evil Morty again for funsies and I gotta say, the expressions are feeding into my overanalyzing brain . LIKE??? AM I SEEING THIS WRONG?

These two have GOT to have something cooking between them PLEASE.

#rick and morty #morty smith #evil morty #thoughts #im overanalyzing this but whatevr

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amhrosina · 1 year

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I Wanna Love Me The Way That You Love Me

(Frank Castle x f!Reader) - Hurt/Comfort

MASTERLIST // JOIN MY TAG LIST

Summary: Frank uses a mirror to remind insecure!reader how beautiful she is. (In a fluffy and a smutty way!)

Warnings: reader is not very kind to herself, fluffy frank, like FLUFFY frank!!!!, super soft!boy frank, the softest of franks ive ever written, some body descriptions but I tried to keep it super vague, (later on) whew chile smuttttt, fingering, frank makes you watch yourself come in a mirror (lmfao), frank is sort of a dom but in the loosest sense, frank just loves reader so much!!!!!)

A/N - Thank you to @wheredidiputmyfish for being an absolute doll of a beta reader!!! I have a couple more Frank fics otw (i cant help it, i love that stupid man) and a poly!fratt x reader one hopefully soon after that!

You huffed as you pulled the green blouse over your head, annoyed that yet another online purchase didn’t fit right on your body. Just this week alone, you’d already made two trips to the post office, and Frank was bound to ask questions if you went for a third time so soon.

You couldn’t even remember why you’d started buying nicer clothes to begin with, except that Karen always looked nice and Frank had been in love with her at one point, so why wouldn’t the same concept apply to you? The only problem was that you couldn’t seem to find anything that fit you correctly, and the idea that Frank might grow bored with your everyday attire kept you up at night. And of course, Frank had never actually said anything about your clothing choice – this was just the overthinking part of your brain going into overdrive.

You flopped onto the mattress, shoving your face into your palms and groaning. You couldn’t figure out exactly what Frank saw in you, and it was hard not to compare yourself to his late wife or Karen. They were both beautiful women – definitely Frank’s type – and that was not exactly how you’d describe yourself. The thought of it brought tears to your eyes again. You quickly blinked them away when you heard the front door shut.

You joined Frank in the living room, where he was removing his boots. You threw the package you needed to return on the table by the door, and though you tried to do this casually, Frank noticed it and your expression immediately.

“You sendin’ care packages to some other boyfriend or somethin’?” He teased, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You giggled. “No. It’s just another return.”

“Not that I’m not supporting this new wardrobe thing,” he started, eyeing the package by the door, “but why are you returnin’ everything you buy?”

You shrugged. “It just doesn’t fit right.”

“I bet you look great.”

“I don’t think so.” You shrugged again, avoiding his eyes as you stepped into the kitchen.

“Sweetheart.” He followed you into the kitchen, though it was clear he was struggling to figure out how to broach the topic. “Is everything okay? You’re talkin’ down about yourself again.”

Your smile faltered slightly. “I’m fine.”

“Baby,” Frank wrapped his arms around your middle, pulling your chest into his, “You’re not fine. You wanna know how I know that?”

You remained silent, avoiding eye contact, but nodded.

“Because you won’t look at me.” You lifted your chin and stared into his warm gaze out of spite. “And because I know you and I love you, I know that you start avoiding me when you feel bad because you think I’m going to miraculously start to hate you and leave.”

You didn’t respond, instead gnawing on your cheek and curling into yourself. Frank’s hold around your waist remained steady, and as you tried to look away from his meaningful gaze, his hand gripped your chin and held it steady, too.

“You’re beautiful, baby.” He pressed a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. “I love you no matter what you do or wear or say. You’re beautiful.”

You tried to push away from Frank, suddenly aware that you hadn’t fixed your makeup or hair that morning. He was lying. He had to be lying, right? No one thought that about you, least of all Fra-

“Don’t.” Frank was gentle in his coaxing, running his knuckle over your cheekbone in a soothing pattern while pressing his fingers into the small of your back. “Don’t do that to yourself. I love you. I’m not goin’ anywhere. You have to trust me.”

You fiddled with your fingers, wringing them together in an uneasy gesture, unsure of what to say. He gently grasped them and pulled them into his chest, cradling them as he held your gaze.

“Come with me. I wanna show you somethin’.” He murmured, tilting his head toward the bedroom.

You followed close behind him, curiosity outshining your desire to crawl into bed and never get out. He led you to a stop in front of the full-length mirror, resting his hands on your shoulders behind you. A clear and decisive frown formed on your face. The last thing you wanted to do was look at yourself.

“What do you see?” he asked, holding your gaze through the mirror.

“What?” You furrowed your brow.

“What do you see, sweetheart? Be honest.” he asked again, patting your shoulders encouragingly.

“Well, um,” you breathed, starting at the top of your head and making your way down with your observations, “I see dull hair, bags under my eyes, and a nose that’s too big. My shoulders are broad, my hips are too wide, my skin looks lifeless, and I’m wondering why you ever gave me the time of day and why you stay with me when there are so many people out there that would look better standing next to you.”

Frank stayed quiet throughout your assessment, expression turning grave as you brought up your deepest insecurities about yourself. He let you finish your observations before pressing a long kiss to your head.

“Now ask me what I see.” he prompted. Confusion overcame your features again, but he silenced your doubts with an encouraging nod.

“What do you see, Frankie?” You quietly asked, unsure if you really wanted to hear what he had to say.

He brought his finger to your face, tracing each element as he pointed them out in the mirror.

“I see a pair of beautiful eyes and a perfect nose. I see the most sensual lips I’ve ever felt pressed against my mouth. I see a beautiful, strong body that can handle anything thrown its way. Remember when you had to carry me from the living room to the bedroom after I passed out? That shit was impressive, sweetheart.” A soft smile rested on his face as he continued. He folded his arms around your middle and pulled your body against his. “I see hands that hold my entire heart in them, and a body that has all my love. You’re beautiful, baby, and I love you so much. Every piece of you.”

You tried to blink away the tears that clouded your vision, but Frank’s speech combined with his gentle touch and open expression sent a wave of tears down your face. You curled into his hold, turning so you could bury your face in his chest. He cradled you against him while you cried, pressing soft kisses to your hair every few minutes until you were calm enough to look up at him through your eyelashes.

He swiped his thumbs through the tears that had gathered under your eyes. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, blinking up at him. “Thank you. I love you,” you murmured.

He pressed his forehead against yours, which had always been his way of showing love. “Anytime, sweetheart. You hear me? Anytime.”

Bonus Scene: In which Frank comforts you in the bedroom later.

“Frank, what are you doing?”

Your tone was a mixture of confusion and curiosity, combined with the lazy haze that had taken over your body for the time being. Frank had jumped up from his relaxed position between your legs, where he’d licked up every bit of your desire after making you see stars, and had begun fiddling with the floor length mirror across the bedroom.

“Hang on.” He called over his shoulder, tugging the heavy glass across the carpet.

“Why are you moving the mirror?”

“Wanna try somethin’.”

He stepped back, looking between your slick, bare skin and the mirror with a smug expression. You were now face to face with your reflection, and as soon as you realized Frank's plan, a string of fire worked its way directly to your core.

“Wanna show you how perfect you are.” He crawled on the bed behind you, settling himself before tugging your body back against his. Both sets of eyes, yours and Franks, were focused on you, and boy were you a sight to behold.

Your limbs, still shaky from your first orgasm were splayed out, giving both you and Frank the perfect view of your glistening cunt, which was busy clenching around air as Frank worked his needy fingers down your skin.

“Shit, baby. You look fuckin’ perfect like this.” He breathed. The proximity of his warmth to your ear sent a wave of goosebumps down your body, and you had to fight the urge to clench your legs together. “Look at how beautiful you are, sweet thing.” He murmured, holding his gaze on the treasure between your legs.

You looked, fully looked, and felt heat crawling up your neck as his sensuous fingers swiped through your arousal. A low groan emanated from his throat, and he couldn’t stop himself from circling your clit. You watched as a moan left your mouth, your back slightly arching against Frank’s chest.

“You see how perfect you are, sweet girl?” He cooed, circling your clit again. “Your pretty pussy drives me crazy.”

His other hand began to rub your nipple in light circles, and if that weren’t enough to have you gasping for air, the touch of his lips to the spot below your ear was. You squeezed your eyes shut, throwing your head back against Frank’s shoulder. His fingers halted – no, everything halted – and the whine that came from his sudden stoppage wasn’t entirely a conscious decision of yours.

“You stop looking, I stop moving, sweetheart. You got that? Keep your eyes open.” he asked, locking eyes with you in the mirror. His gaze held no room for negotiation, so you shyly nodded before returning your gaze to your body. His focus remained on your flushed face, panting as he worked you closer to another orgasm.

You could see what he was talking about. For the first time in a long time, the girl that looked back in the mirror wasn’t someone you shied away from. She was beautiful, and confident, and sensual, and she looked good next to Frank.

“You look stunning, baby.” He murmured.

“I know.” You responded, briefly lifting your eyes to his before returning them to his fingers. His winning smile was priceless – wide and open and beautiful, and you loved him, you loved him, you loved him.

Light twinkled in your eyes as he inched you closer and closer to your release, and as soon as you locked eyes with Frank again, you were a goner.

Frank worked his fingers around your clit, coaxing out one of the most intense orgasms you’d ever experienced. It washed over you in waves of fire, and it was a struggle to keep your eyes open for it, but you were glad he had asked you to, because you looked glorious coming around his fingers.

You panted, body gleaming with sweat. Your heartbeat finally slowed as you leaned against Frank for support. He ran soothing hands over your limbs, massaging feeling back into them and kissing every inch of skin that he could reach in the process. The silence as you returned to your body was long, but comfortable, and when you finally had full use of your limbs again, you pulled Frank’s arms around you.

He kissed your hair, resting his cheek on your head.

“Do you see what I see now?” he asked, glancing at you through the mirror. You nodded, carefully lifting your chin so you could look at him – the real him – to respond.

“I love you.”

He grinned, leaning down and planting a sloppy kiss to your lips.

“I love you, sweet girl.”

Tag List:

@alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @chiaraxtargaryen @trulylavandedarling @D0wnbad @deliciousfestsalad @lilyevans1 @imagineadream @22carolina08 @definitelynotsugar @casualchaoticdevil @peachy-flxwr @nashja @xshewayout @blep--bloop @kpopgirlbtssvt @aynsleywalker @queenofthenoobs @xleiaorgana @mukbee @dilfs5678 @kokoterainonago666 @blackwidownat2814 @callsign-mama @minervadashwood @emiemiemiii @h4rrys @messymissy @mylifeispainandiloveit @mossexe @fightmilk @spikedhe4rt @fictional-hooman @merleisapartygod @babyslyth @legocity2 @quackson03 @certifiedhunter @deliciousfestsalad @dumb-fawkin-bitch @americaarse @thatgirljayy @hiyabyeyababy @theesexystallion @scoliobean @myguiltypleasures21 @dnxgma @evyiione @gpenguin666 @desert-fern @day-dreaming-goddess @rayray787 @ginnysculture @megmastersgf

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dicenete · 7 days

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Hey, I'm rambling about IkePri again

Okay, I just need to get these thoughts I have about Gilbert von Obsidian out because I enjoy predicting stuff and overthinking design and narrative choices even tho they might not be right. :P But there really isn't that much predicting other than me overthinking about narrative and design choices. This time there will be most likely spoilers of Gilbert's route so far, and route of Clavis and some thoughts I have just gathered while playing the game in general. I try to put these thoughts in cohesive order, but well... I don't know if I can really, because I just need to get these out of my head. These are my thoughts, ramblings and opinions. Feel free to form your own and certainly disagree with me! I apologize about the lack of art in this post. I'm busy with work currently so no fanart for a while. I'm also not native English speaker, so there might be grammatical errors and such. Sorry about that. Everything under the cut.

To start with Ikemen Prince is a romance visual novel first and foremost. That doesn't mean it can't be deep (and it certainly has been deeper than I initially expect, which left me positively surprised). I suppose there is somesort of thematic vibe that there is no prince whose ideals are the main thesis of the game itself. But that also kinda leaves that fact there is no huge catharsis regarding the world and it's state. Everything so far has been left quite open. And the more I have learned about lore of the world, I really feel like anti-monarchist here xd Clavis really sold me the idea for real. Or atleast throw away the absolute monarchy. That's where I think things should go, but that's my own belief. (really, the last king of Rhodolite... He umm... I have some opinions.) Chevalier and Gilbert First things first: I don't hate or dislike Chevalier as a character. There are just some things that give me Deus Ex Machina feels. But I know it is what they are going for with him. This genius that so far ahead of everyone that it is so alien concept to rest of the people. And well that is a very hard concept to pull off without being a genius yourself as a writer. Or that is what I feel like. But what I do love is what the writers are doing with him and Gilbert in thematic sense! (Hence why Chev x Gilbert sounds so juicy to me)

I really took steps to the deep end as I started to think about why I have enjoyed Gilbert's route or was interested in his story to begin with, but have little interest in trying Chev's one. Because they are so similar but they really aren't.

How I would describe it is that where as Clavis is the complementary to Chev, the purple to his yellow, the emotionality vs rationality, the heart vs the brain, Gilbert is more like right brain to Chev's left brain. If it makes sense like that xd Their color schemes are harmonious. Not opposite. Almost like how Nokto and Licht's color schemes are harmonious with each others.

(Nokto (Blue + white + gold) vs Licht (Blue + black + gold)) Not to mention that their names clearly are meant to mean light and dark. (Licht: variant for light, Nokto: comes form latin nox or noctis, meaning night = dark) But that is a rambling for another time.) Both their crests are tigers. White and black tiger. Chev's color scheme is White + gold and black. Whereas Gilbert's is Black + gold and white. But then the overall color that game devs use to signal about the characters baffles me a bit. Gold/Yellow vs Black/dark red. They don't seem to have too much connection or that of which comes to my mind quickly and without digging deeper. (because I believe that if you dig deep enough, you have digged yourself into a trap of overthinking about things. (Justifying things because you want to justify them, which I'm not big fan of. And sometimes things don't need meaning and we have to live with that. As much as it pains my overthinker brain.)) But here is my impressions about Gilbert so far. I'm at the point where MC has left the Clavis's party (I loved it btw). Gilbert really does give me toxic INFJ villain feels, but let's not get too hang up on terms such as that. But he is someone who is driven forth by his own ideals and desire to change the world better. He, like Clavis, seems to cloak himself in this idea that he is the villain and is okay, even happy, to take that role. He is the one who, like Chevalier, has thrown away emotional attachment out of the window (or so they say) unlike Clavis who makes his choices based more on emotion rather than rational thinking. Maybe that's why I like Clavis and Gilbert, they push MC out of their black and white thinking. That things are not so easy peezy as "choose a right king and everyone will be happy". There will always be someone who is mad about it. That's why I really loved the scene with Gilbert with the orphaned kids and the Clavis's party. He seems to enjoy the company of children (who are not morally corrupted or tainted) and he really empathically listens to those who are angry. He believes in the idea that "no one remembers what you said, but they will always remember how you made them feel". (A quote with debatable origin, people say that it was coined by Maya Angelou. But I really love this quote, because I think it is the truth.) Gilbert isn't trying to rationalize against someone's choices with pure intellect. He uses empathy to guide him to the most rational outcome in that emotional scope. But he also uses this to manipulate people with fear. He uses fear extensively and he does it actively. Where as I feel like Chev just has that aura about him automatically. Hence my next thought: Action vs Stasis!

Gilbert and Clavis are action oriented. They shake the gameboard, they make the first moves. Gilbert probably more than Clavis. They both want change. Is it change for the better, we will see, I still haven't finished Gilbert's route but he really gives me this "I'm willing to become the greatest threat so that people unite to defeat me." or "I will conquer all so there will no longer be wars.". Chev, on the other hand, symbolizes stasis. His goal is to keep the kingdom of Rhodolite going. That's his duty and he is willing to take it. (even tho we can debate if that is something he really really believes in or even thinks about that much. I feel like it is out of obligation rather than of personal ideal. But alas, I have not played Chev's route yet.) Chev is reactive rather than proactive. He waits for the opponent to make the first move and reacts accordingly. (I'm not saying he is not reactive once game is on. More like "if there was not threat to deal with, he wouldn't create one".)

Chev doesn't care what you think about him. Gilbert does. He might seem like he doesn't but he is really there to prove a point. (I will pick up his dislike for lying later >.>) Chev is not. Chev knows that his way is the right way for him and that is enough for him. Chev also actively makes a "gettaway plan" for himself in Clavis. He knows that Clavis is the final thread that keeps him from going overboard because he understand that he has to be blind for "individual people" aspect to be a good ruler. Gilbert probably understands this about himself too, but he is trying to prove a point. So he needs to go overboard. Because masses of people need absolutes to react to. If it is something banal, it won't do. His evil actions need to shake the very foundation of ideas. The people have to face those things head on and see it for themselves. They cannot be sheltered. Gilbert gives me the vibes that he is willing to sacrifice himself not for the kingdom, but for the betterment of all mankind. He is happy to become the villain #1 if that means that other people will rise and take down the corrupted Obsidian or the corrupted idea. I would say that he is Lawful Good going on about things like Lawful Evil.

Gilbert asking questions means that he wants you to think, he wants to challenge your opinions and how you look at the world. Same as Clavis. They yearn for change. They want to change the world. Where as Chev wants to maintain things as they are. Chev "If it is not broken, we don't need to fix it" Michel. Where as Clavis and Gilbert want to improve the system. They are idealistic. Gilbert and lying

This is something very interesting. At first I thought that he was all "I dislike when people lie to me." but he really is "I dislike lying in all its forms." And he does say that he doesn't lie. And I'm starting to believe that is really the case. All the things he says are true. But because how other people see him, they are suspicious anyway. Like MC is. Like we all probably are when we start the route and think "So what is your trauma, baby girl?" When he is unsure or knows that he shouldn't say the thing he really thinks or that is true, he will deflect or give a very vague response. Which makes me quite happy to replay his route at somepoint with this in mind. In conclusion: Welcome to my TED talk, with no head or tail, just me overthinking about things about a otome gacha game. If you read this far, thank you for your time. Remember, if I ramble about it, it just means that I'm invested. Have a good day~

#me rambling about ikepri #dicenete rambles #ikepri #thoughts #gilbert von obsidian #clavis lelouch #chevalier michel #is this what they call a character study #or analysis #TED talk #ikemen prince

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transfemzedaph · 3 months

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idea that definitely hasnt been living in my brain:

joel totally, 100%, does NOT have a massive crush on zedaph. zedaph, who he's heard a lot of things about but, but nothing could've prepared him for how blummin' cute he is, for goodness sake-- what. what? don't look at him like that. it's nothing. shut up.

(hope u like this even if u dont write smth for it DJBDJD)

i fucking loved this ask so much <3. i transed joel & zeds genders. bc im me. also the end is meh & i dont know what grians base looks like and i do not care

Of course Joel had heard about Zedaph, how could they not have. There was the rest of ZITS in the life series, Skizz specifically when he found out the both of them were joining, and of course Grians run down of all of the hermits. The basic gist of it was she's weird in a cool way and makes creative and useless but fun machines, which honestly, Joel thought sounded really awesome. Redstone was fine and all but they did tend to think most redstoners were way too serious about the whole thing.

So when Joel was invited over to be the first person to test Zeds newest thing, they were excited!

What none of any of his friends had told them, was how flippin cute she was. And yeah maybe Joel ended up stumbling over their words more than usual whilst hanging out, and yeah maybe they were a little bit distracted from the game? activity? workout? whatever it was, Joel was a bit distracted because they kept watching Zed.

Joel rushes their goodbyes and runs off back home, laying face down on the floor of their newly built home, void they should have put some furniture in already.

Grian wanders over and lets out a little snort at the sight of Joel, who just groans and rolls over, propping themself up a bit,

"This is all your fault."

Grian just stares.

Joel locks eyes with him face scrunching, "You didn't tell me she was cute."

Grian, promptly bursts out laughing.

"Gri, no, this isn't funny. This is serious. And she's gonna think I'm an idiot now and it's all your fault!"

Grian's still laughing.

Joel sits then self up and crosses their arms indignantly, "Are you done?"

Grian's giggling a bit when he replies, "You've got it so bad! For a blonde! Again! You have a type sooo bad."

Joel kicks their leg out towards Grian, grumbling slightly, "Yeah well, you're blonde but you're ugly and I hate you. So there."

Grian sits himself down next to Joel, bumping their shoulder with his own as he does.

"Honestly I bet Zed loved hanging out with you. Don't worry yeah? And at least next time you can compose yourself before you hang out."

Joel leans their head on Grians shoulder.

"Yeah." They sigh, picking at their fingernails, before mumbling "Think 'm just overthinking it cause of being new 'n all that. Just dont wanna make anyone hate me."

Grian scoffs, "No one is going to hate you, and you know Skizz, and probably Tango and Impulse as well, have all talked to Zed about you? Why do you think she invited you to hang out?"

Joel hums.

"To me it seems like she was also trying to impress you too, showing off what she made?"

Joel blushes, halfheartedly giving Grian a little shove, "Shut up."

It's a couple of days later when Joel barges into Grians house, "I have an excuse to go visit Zed!"

Grian sighs, "And you had to come and tell me about this? Right now?"

Joel takes in the scene, Mumbo, standing next to a coffee machine, his moustache looking very lackluster, Grian almost curled up on his stool, hands clasped around a mug.

Joel winces, "Uh, what time is it?"

"Too early for this nonsense, shoo." Grian lazily waves one hand in Joels general direction to usher them away.

Joel grumbles to themself as they walk away, "Whatever, Grian doesn't get to know my really cool and awesome plan of going over and saying that we need to beat Impulse and Tangos high score without being a bit cheaty like they were. Which is the best plan ever."

#original post tag #ask tag #smallishbeans #joel smallishbeans #yeah. gay people djbdjd #writing tag #also i think its rlly funny of me that i went mumbo? sleepy & without coffee? moustache looks like shit.#also mumbo after ghis is like hey what? grian is like ugh joels got a crush #mumbo be like. imagine having a crush on someone. couldnt be me. hashtag aro swag.#hermitshipping

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elsmstrss · 1 year

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i love your hcs 💕 can you write hcs of how ellie williams comforts insecure reader

thank you sm love !! not sure what kinds of insecurities you were looking for specifically so there's a lil bit of everything. also i think i hate how this turned out oops

ellie williams headcannon: how ellie comforts your insecurities <3

tags: ellie williams x fem!reader , lapslock , insecure reader , hurt/comfort , fluff , pet names , ellie typical cursing, mentions of body image and poor self esteem etc. , basically a oneshot at the end lol sorry , not proofread

you're self confidence hasn't ever been very high. it's one of the reasons it took you and ellie so long to become official. you're brain just overthinks everything and it took you a long time to believe ellie whenever she would give you sweet compliments or flirty looks that couldn't possibly be for you, right?

even after you two started dating, the insecurities never really left you. the overthinking lessened and ellie made you feel beautiful, inside and out, but deep down you always held dark thoughts about yourself. and ellie knew this.

anytime you two go out in public, ellie would get stares from anyone. you knew ellie had some flings before you and you couldn't help but feel inferior whenever a pretty girl would come up to ellie while you were together. they would leave suggestive touches on her arms or flirty smiles. seemingly not even noticing your presence.

ellie would always brush them off, but you couldn't help but feel inferior. you already had a hard time believing ellie chose you of all people. you weren't anything special.

one night the thoughts began to become too much, eating you up inside. you were both getting ready for bed when ellie noticed your hesitation to climb into the blankets with her.

"c'mon babe i'm coooold" she teased, arms open and making grabby hands.

"els, maybe i should go back to my place". ellie's tone quickly changes to one of worry, scrambling out of the bed and rushing over to your slumped figure.

"why? are you feeling ok" the back of her hands pressed to your forehead, checking for any hotness there.

you try not to tremble as tears well in your eyes, shaking your head. she's always taking such good care of you and it makes you cry harder.

"hey hey, don't cry. tell me what' wrong, hm?" she guides you to the edge of the bed, plopping down next to you and tucking you into her neck. "talk to me petal, let me help". her voice oozed comfort and her body was so warm. you couldn't stop yourself before you spilled your guts. "y-you deserve better els"

"huh? what are you talking about?" you try and explain the insecurities you felt, feeling dumber for them by the second as ellie's face shows nothing but confusion.

when it finally hits ellie, she can't help but cup your face and pout at your tear stained cheeks. "your my best girl, hm? my favorite. your beautigul, and strong, and the kindest person i know. no one could compare and i love you, only you."

her words were like a blanket that consumed your cold body. you know how hard it is for ellie to express feelings through words. and even though you know it wouldn't fix it, they comforted you.

"i know ellie, 'm just being du-"

ellie surged in and kissed you, effectively cutting you off leaving you breathless.

ellie would never let you talk bad about yourself.

later, jesse and his group had scored a jackpot on a bunch of new clothes. you were excited to get some better clothes for the summer as all you seemed to own was sweaters and jeans.

you locked yourself in the bathroom, trying on a million different things but nothing seemed to look good on you.

a quick knock followed by a "babe let me see" from ellie on the other side of the door. you sigh and stare up at the ceiling before opening the door, revealing your girlfriend leaning against the door frame, arms crossed.

"i look disgusting" you sigh out, examining your self in the mirror once again. you feel arms snake around your waist, pulling you into a chest.

"hey! don't say that about my girlfriend" ellie said, serious but a small quirk in her lips made you roll your eyes. you couldn't help it. what you saw in the mirror repulsed you. it must of shown on your face because ellie's fingers start wiggling at your sides, effectively squeezing a giggle out of you.

"seriously love, you look stunning. remember that." her words make you flush and you nod. the only opinion that mattered was ellie's. you decided to keep the clothes, and maybe they were growing on you.

ellie always praises you, even when your feeling okay. you would just be reading on the couch, hair thrown lazily into a bun, huge sweater drowning your frame and ellie would appear in front of you with a sloppy kiss to the forehead and goofy grin on her face. "what?" you'd ask, confused and kinda annoyed that she distracted you from a really good part of the book.

"nothing your just fucking cute" or "just wanted to kiss a pretty girl, is that a crime"

once, you both were cuddling on the couch, watching some shitty romance film ellie had found on patrol earlier that day. something on the screen made her chuckle, body shifting as she moved her hand right on top of you stomach. the warmth from her palm instantly seeped through your thin shirt and it caused a sharp intake of your breath.

ellie felt your body tense up in her arms, causing her to glance down at the side of your face, "you okay, baby?"

you nod quickly, a small smile that you hoped was convincing. it wasn't. ellie knows you way too well.

ellie's eyes trace your profile down your neck and to her hand. she instantly recognizes her mistake and a sad sigh falls from her lips.

"love, look at me". you pretend you don't hear her and she sighs louder this time. a moment passes and you think that's it when all of a sudden her hands are on your hips, theres movement, and then her face comes into view.

her hands carresses your sides and hips as she stares into your eyes, eyes hard but touches soft. "there's my pretty girl." she breathes out.

"els, the movie-"

"fuck the movie. i wanna watch you instead" she leans in closer, you can see every freckle dusting her cheeks.

her words make you blush and you stare at her lips because the eye contact is just too much.

you feel her finger under your chin, lifting your face, eyes meeting. she dips down, taking your lips in hers. the kiss is gentle and it spreads warmth throughout your whole body. her kisses always make you feel on cloud 9. you don't even notice as her hands start to explore more of your body. your hips, sides, thighs, tummy. her fingers ghost over your nipples, collarbone, neck, jaw. she repeats the cycle twice before you run out of breath.

"so fucking gorgeous" "im so lucky" "need you so bad" words and praises fall from her lips between each kiss to your lips, nose, eyelids.

she lays you on your back, pushing your shirt up above your breasts, leaving you exposed from your neck to below your belly button. "can't believe your all mine". you whine at her words, trying to tug your shirt back down but ellie wont have any of it.

she starts to leave a trail of kisses down your torso. you cant help but freeze up as she nears the most difficult parts.

"it's just me, petal"

you always insisted the lights are off or that your shirts stays on whenever you two are intimate but for some reason you can't bring yourself to say anything this time. ellie just makes you feel so good.

in conclusion ellie loves you very much, and its more than enough for the both of you. so, whenever the love for yourself seems so far away, she just gives you some of hers <3

thank you again for the request anon ! gentle reminder that my inbox is open and requests (or just some ellie brainrot ranting) is always welcome ! tdlr: i have no ideas

#this took me so long #like my fingers are so sore from slamming the backspace button #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #the last of us #tlou #tlou2 #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams imagine #hurt/comfort #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams the last of us

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