#the ups and down of this friendship needed proper development

[jacksonseymour13]

This post is long

Anybody feels disappointed there wasn't enough angst, mistrust or tension between Gi-Hun and In-Ho? Angst!Inhun

I love these old lovelies and this ship with all my heart but I can't help but feel like it was lacking in overall conflict. Two people working together,main protagonist and main antagonist being allies. Gi-Hun's massive trust issues that were played up in the first 2 episodes leading up to him joining the games didn't nearly impact enough as the episodes proceeded. The significance of #01 and that connection to the old guy from S1(help I forgot his name😭🙏🏻).

I needed In-Ho proving and bending over backwards to have Gi-Hun trust his ass. In-Ho was on a mission to infiltrate Gihun's trust before ripping it apart last second as a "I told you so honey".

Gi-Hun definitely had a stronger tense dynamic with Sangwoo in the game, yes you could argue their childhood besties and have known each other for as long as possible but it doesn't change the fact Gi-Hun was weary of Sang Woo and showed several moments doubting his authentic nature in the game, especially after glass Bridge.

GIVE ME A HANDOUT! I need them screaming at each other and having a power struggle with Team X, I need them driving each other crazy and wanting to beat the living shit out of each other(although they never come to blows😉). Fake player In-Ho and Gi-Hun's dynamic was IMO wasted and could've been so much juicier. I'm happy with what we got but...

The greedy desperate cunty that I am needed just a little more gravitas and sprinkles of a little bit of this and that in their relationship. Gi-Hun should have been 100% suspicious and kept his guard up with In-Ho after he was the sole responsibility why everyone continued in the games post-1st vote. His red flags should have been going off crazily. Gi-Hun joined the game with focus not to play the same game again and play as Level 1, nah bro. He had his stats and composure maxed out.

He should have made a mental note of In-Ho never being present(becausenowayGihunwouldsuddenlyforgetahandsomemofolikethat)for waking up,red light green light and before the vote. Blud just teleported in. Gi-Hun had no real reason to trust In-Ho either but let me run with it before I get cooked by everyone(I still ship but the writing was a little questionable)

I would have loved Gi-Hun and In-Ho to have a conversation after 6 legs about In-Ho 'crash out moment'. That's his first glimpse exposing himself to Gihun without this unpenetratable armor of confidence. He saw In-Ho at a stressed point and would've been nice of him to reach out, make sure he's okay. They have a heart to heart there and In-Ho gets some truth off his chest that he has all this pressure of maintaining a perfect exterior. It would show a sense of inferiority complex and a little more depth of In-Ho in Gi-Hun's eyes. Gi-Hun just has the reason why In-Ho voted 'O and nothing else.

Using the fanon brainrot with this last one but I would have Gi-Hun replace Jung-Bae in the last mingle round of 2 players. It makes sense they would go together, It would be very interesting and turning point in Gi-Hun's eyes regarding In-Ho. It sucks because the writers HAD it right there and just did nothing with it. Jung-Bae not telling Gihun or Gihun ever picking up a sign In-Ho cannot be trusted was so fluffy and for what? I love fluff Inhun but angst Inhun would have went TWICE as hard.

Gi-Hun trust would probably solidify after seeing In-Ho kill that player after he votes for 'X but the potential, the confrontation and doubt needed to be shown so we can see how In-Ho would tip toe around such questions. Gi-Hun asking him where he was during RLGR,why he really voted for 'O in the first game just to turn around and vote 'X afterwards. The writers really let me down with this one yall but still a super sexy toxic ship that didn't fail me. Can't wait to see what Reveal!Inhun has in store for us.

[liberalk1tsch]

How do you feel about people equating Katniss’ depression after Prim’s death to her mother’s own after her father’s, and the abandonment that resulted from it?

oh i can feel this is gonna be a long one.

there's two things i want to be very clear about.

the likelihood of katniss having the same mental illness as her mother is extremely high; they both present with near-identical symptoms. i think they definitely suffer from the same illness.

however

2. their situations are entirely different and deserve to be treated as such.

katniss' catatonic depression comes after losing her sister, the person who — in catching fire — she describes as the only person in the world that she's 100% certain that she loves.

asterid's first episode that we know of occurs directly after burdock's death.

while both of them have surviving loved ones after these deaths, there's a distinct difference in their support systems and availability of treatment.

in regards to asterid, it is extremely abnormal that she doesn't have any sort of support system. as someone who grew up in poverty myself, that's not really how impoverished communities work. typically, the only reason people wouldn't keep reaching out to help a family in need is if you are actively pushing them away, which we know to be a canon character trait for asterid.

(my dear friend and go-to expert on all things appalachia @loungemermaid does a great job of discussing the specifics of that within appalachian communities in this post, and asterid's role further down in this post.)

this likely results from her own issues with her parents, as she contextually appears to be disowned by them entirely, so she struggles to allow herself to grow close with others in her personal relationships because she herself has been abandoned and thereby developed an inherent fear that to grow close to someone is to put herself at risk for getting hurt.

from what we know, it seems as if asterid is that one girl who doesn't maintain her friendships once she finds her partner and essentially cuts herself off. i won't pretend to know if this is on purpose or not, but i will reiterate that poor communities tend to do a great job at reaching out to each other, so even if her town friends shunned her, there probably wasn't a lack of people willing to be in her network. keeping in mind she lived in the seam for at least 11 years before burdock died and had plenty of time to establish herself in the community. maybe this is because of her own trauma, maybe not, but regardless, it would make burdock's death all the more painful if he was really her only person (and based on the text, it seems like he is).

the issue is that she didn't exclusively have herself to think about. i'm not a parent myself so i won't pretend to be an expert on something i've never experienced, but i don't feel i need to give birth myself to know that the second you're planning on carrying a child to term, you don't get to be selfish anymore. you do what's best by your kid, even if it's intimidating for you.

i can understand that she couldn't "snap out of it" per say when she went catatonic. most people can't. additionally, i empathise with her in that she didn't have the proper medication to treat herself.

that being said, she had years to build a network for her family in the event that something drastic like this should happen (and based on what we know, it seems like a relatively common occurence) and didn't. whit put it best when they said "Asterid is still just a little girl, trapped in her own trauma, in her own head, where a single choice that her parents didn’t agree with means they didn’t love her anymore. It’s a cycle. It’s a shame. She could’ve broken the cycle. She could’ve called out for help, from someone. She didn’t."

when i studied nursing, one of the first things we learned was how impactful a patient's community and network can be on their outcomes and recovery. as a healer, asterid would know this. it's no secret in the medical community, no matter how high your education goes. it is one of the most basic aspects of patient history to take note of. but she doesn't develop that for herself or her girls. whether by hubris that they wouldn't need it, or apprehension at going out of her own comfort zone, i don't know.

and so her daughters are neglected. they nearly starve to death, and katniss is forced to assume the archetype of the parentified eldest daughter. from the time she is 11, she always has someone to take care of.

neglect does not have to be intentional to be neglect.

even after asterid gets better and begins medicating herself, she is still highly dependent on katniss for tessarae, hunting, gathering, etc. it's only after they're taken in by 13 and asterid is given a proper job that she's able to support herself, hence why it's so different when katniss falls into her depression following prim's death: katniss has nobody to take care of but herself. she's allowed to be selfish and wallow in her grief.

haymitch is drunk at home. peeta's in the capitol. finnick's dead. prim too. gale's in 2. and asterid . . . asterid has abandoned her for real this time.

there's no catatonia to blame it on either. yes, asterid's grieving. it's understandable why she doesn't want to return to 12. but she's fully medicated, and she has a minor daughter who's deeply traumatised and experiencing her own catatonia. she needs her mother now more than ever.

but she's not there for her.

she leaves without so much as a goodbye. doesn't even wait around to see to it that her only living daughter isn't going to be executed for murder. and she chooses to do this when everyone else who loves katniss is either in treatment themselves (peeta in therapy in the capitol, haymitch self-medicating, etc.) or dead. sae and buttercup are the only reasons katniss stays alive in the months before peeta returns to 12. but even then, we have no way of knowing if that was at asterid's request (personally, i think it's haymitch's).

she pushes katniss away one final time. maybe it's because she reminds her too much of burdock with her looks and her voice. reminds her too much of prim as her only surviving daughter. then again, maybe not. the amount of canon information we have on her is abysmal. either way, she projects her abandonment on her daughter and katniss once again nearly dies as a result.

basically this is all a very long-winded for me to say that while i think they have the same illness, their situations aren't particularly comparable, and their relationship is complicated, to say the very least.

[aloof-cold-hands]

I’ve been admiring from a distance for a good bit but I’m a recent follower now that you’ve moved to tumblr, can you explain your poly ocs lore? I’m having a bit of a hard time piecing it together haha!

Absolutely! The original story is about four years old and began when I was a little too young to develop a proper story. I have since retconned the ending, which I believe has caused some confusion. The original ending was- what i believe to be- an unneeded tragedy just for the sake of tragedy. Most of what conspires before that remains the same.

With very little richness and detail, the basics are as such:

Ace and Gene have known one another since childhood and grew up in a small town in Idaho. (Their friendship experiences many ups and downs). In their college years they make the decision to move out of town after an unfortunate event that threatens to out them, and Gene buys a house for them under his own name elsewhere. Ace establishes work with a modelling agency, and Gene takes on cooking at a diner. (In the 70s, this was more than enough to pay for their needs) It's here that they meet Rory while getting introduced into the "hippie" scene. This also introduces to them the idea of having a third partner. Jobie is introduced a short time after Rory. He happens to get hit by Gene's car in the middle of the night after the boys went to visit Gene's parents. After taking him to the hospital, he is revealed to be a patient from CopperFell- a psychiatric hospital- and was recorded in their records as "released" three years prior. This, however, is incorrect. His guardians continued to pay for his stay there, and his records were not properly updated. Out of obligation, Gene pays for Jobie to stay in a motel for a handful of nights, but after a dispute with Ace they instead have Jobie room with Rory to save on money, which later becomes his permanent home. And this is where the story becomes very open book! There is no definitive ending, and as far as we know they remain successful and happy well into their older years.

[euseokz]

can you write friends to lovers smut for anton where they have crazy sexual tension pls🙏🏼💗

@ anton — we both want each other, why can’t we just let things go with the flow ? . cws : unprotected sex. creampie . slight size kink . big dick anton . wc : 2.0k+ . genre : smut

a/n : i hope this aligns with what you wanted nonnie ! somehow i always find myself only writing best-friend! anton whenever i write for him, and for some reason, i love it ! i just think he fits this trope so well 😮‍💨

BEST-FRIEND! ANTON who you’ve always shared some sort of sexual tension with, but that neither of you has ever acted on because you have always been afraid of what would happen if you did.

you knew it all. knew how he looked at you, how he’d look you up and down when you got more dressed up and get that little smirk on his lips, how he liked having a hand on your waist when you were in public not only in a protective way, but also because he liked to touch you, liked when people thought you were his. you knew when he was horny too, how his eyes would turn darker and his lips would twist into a sort of cocky smile, and you also knew what made him horny, what words you used and what touches you left on him that made him want to fuck you.

anton also knew all about you, you had each other all figured out, and still, somehow, had never fucked, because you were still afraid due to all the what if’s. what if that ended your friendship? what if one wanted something casual but the other wanted a proper relationship? what if having sex would completely ruin your dynamic and make things awkward? there were just too many possibilities, so you never acted on it — until it finally got to be too much and you did.

you had gone over to anton’s apartment, his roommates loudly talking about something in the next room while you two laid on his bed, close to each other but not as close as you actually wanted to be, having a conversation about whatever came up. you could feel anton’s gaze on you, almost burning into your skin. you had borrowed some clothes from him, a hoodie and a pair of shorts, something about wanting a more comfy outfit to wear instead of the one you had worn all day, and it was driving him insane. anton’s eyes couldn’t leave you, obsessed with how good his clothes looked on you, with how his already baggy hoodie looked baggier on your body, and how his shorts that usually ran just around his knees went down lower on you. you looked so good in his clothes it made him completely lose his mind, getting to a point where he was barely even listening and processing what you were saying and just ogling you. it should be uncomfortable, but somehow it also turned you on, knowing the sight of you was too much for him, that he couldn’t focus on anything but you.

maybe if you hadn’t burrowed his clothes things wouldn’t have developed the way they did, or maybe they would but it would’ve just taken a bit longer, but once you caught anton’s eyes stuck on your body for the nth time you decided you had enough, tired of being cautious and simply deciding that enough was enough, that you needed to be bold, which was what led you to blurt out the next words that came out of your mouth as if they were nothing.

“you should just fuck me if you’re gonna continue looking at me like that”

it took a moment for anton to register your words. was he hallucinating? was that the next stage of the level of horniness he was experiencing? he didn’t know, so he looked at you, a surprised but confused look spread across his features. you repeated the question, and this time he knew it was real, that he wasn’t hearing or imagining things, you had actually told him he should fuck you. his immediate response was to jump on you, but he held himself back, only turning more towards you instead, now being on his side while you still laid back against his pillows, asking you through an all too shy tone if you were sure, his shyness ridiculous taking into account his actions up until that point.

“i wouldn’t propose it if i wasn’t” you replied, a smug smile on your lips, and that was when anton finally let his instincts win and jumped on you, kissing you harder than he had ever kissed someone, cupping your cheeks in his hands with so much strength it made you wonder if he was afraid you’d slip away or vanish into thin air. his lips felt good against yours, the way he sucked on your bottom lip making you mewl against him, a small smirk curling the corners of anton’s mouth because of it. he wanted you to be as into it as him, wanted you to want him to fuck you as much as he did, so he moved on top of you, both hands still cupping your cheeks while one of his knees moved to separate your legs, pressing against your covered middle softly, just hard enough to elicit another small moan to slip past your lips and into his. he started moving it, drawing it in small circles and making sure to start pressing more and more into you, until you were whimpering against him relentlessly, wordlessly begging for more until you finally spoke up, your voice much whinier this time as you told him to just fuck you — and because anton wasn’t one to ever deny you anything, he did, not much time separating the last kiss you shared and the moment you finally found yourselves naked and with him pushing himself into you for the first time.

your pussy was absolutely soaked by then, all thanks to anton’s continuous teasing, making the job of thrusting into you somewhat easier, even if you still struggled a bit to take him fully. anton swore he would cum as soon as he bottomed out solely based on the wondrous feeling of your pussy clenching around him as he dragged his cock languidly into you, getting lost in how you wrapped around him so well, so tightly, a warm feeling surrounding his length, making his brain grow fuzzy with pleasure.

you just looked too good underneath him. your face was twisted into an expression of pure pleasure, brows furrowed and lips parted in a perfect “o” shape, moaning as he started to slowly pull out, giving you time to adjust. you felt as if anton was splitting you open, his cock so thick it barely fit inside you, stretching you out as much as you could take while still feeling good, the initial weird uncomfortableness eventually passing by as he kept moving, keeping his pace slow and steady, wanting to give you time to adjust, being patient because the last thing he wanted was to accidentally hurt you. your pussy looked so good taking him though, swallowing him and wrapping around him so snuggly, making anton wince in pleasure. both your gazes were focused on it, on how your cunt was taking him, each thrust making anton’s cock glisten more with your slick, the visible veins running up and down his length throbbing in anticipation for the moment he would be able to start fucking you properly.

in an attempt to help relax you even more, anton leaned down for another kiss, his hair falling over his eyes as he pressed his lips against yours. this kiss is softer, sweeter, just as needy as the ones you shared previously but not as fast paced. anton wanted to treasure the moment, live it to the fullest and have every second of it imprinted in his brain, afraid of ever forgetting the first time he ever truly had you in his arms. he held you closer, still kissing you, sucking on your tongue while slightly speeding up his thrusts, testing how well you’d take it — and as expected, you excelled, moaning into the kiss and clamping down around him harder, eventually breaking apart from him, wanting to scream anton’s name but suddenly remembering his roommates were still in the room next door, so you couldn’t. instead though, you pressed your forehead against his, closing your eyes and whimpering about good it felt, about how good his big dick felt stretching you out, fucking you so well, better than anyone ever had. your words affected anton, making him moan, rolling his eyes back in pleasure while changing his posture, hoisting himself higher by placing his hands by either side of your head, picking up his pace and moving more swiftly, by now already able to build up a quicker pace with how well your pussy was taking him.

“you drive me crazy, you know that, right?” he asked, eyes locked on yours, his tone more unstable than usual. you nodded, your expression flustered as you brought him back to you, wrapping both arms around his neck and lacing both of your legs around his waist, holding him in place, wanting to feel anton’s wide frame pressed against yours, his weight on top of you comforting in a way. he also embraced you, reaching behind you and hugging you close, his hands interlocking it’s fingers behind your head and holding you up so your face was close to his, forcing you to maintain the eye contact as he continued fucking you, moving faster, more precisely, reaching deep inside you with his cock, his tip kissing your cervix softly with every thrust. anton felt like he was in heaven — you both did, so lost in each other that nothing else mattered, only able to focus on looking at one another and feeling how good you both made each other feel. it was all too much, too intense, so when anton blurted out his next words without even thinking twice, neither of you reacted as if they were odd for him to say.

“i love you” he told you, his tone sincere and his voice steadier this time, as if he was determined to say it in a way that would let you know he was being truthful. you only kissed him, pressing your lips against this desperately and bringing him as close to you as humanly possible, pulling away for a second just to say those three words back to him, your voice whinier than his, but still just as honest.

anton’s thrusts continued steady, dragging in and out of you deliciously, reaching that sweet spot inside you that made an invisible knot start forming in your lower stomach, growing tighter, ready to snap at any moment. you were both close, so through his low groans, with his lips still pressed closed to yours, anton asked if he could cum inside, if he could fill you up with his cum, and you, in your hazy state, said yes, asking for it, his thrusts growing rougher for a second until you were both reaching your orgasms. anton’s came first, his thrusts starting to get sloppier but not completely losing their pace as he kept going while his cock twitched inside you, shooting creamy strings of warm cum inside you, painting your insides white — that feeling being exactly what finally ignited your own high, one loud moan leaving your lips when it hit before anton was pulling you in for yet another kiss, trying to silence you as you both reveled in your own pleasures, whining into one another as he started slowing down, eventually finally coming to a halt with his dick still buried deep inside you. you both felt at cloud nine, beginning to come back to your senses and finally realizing what you had admitted to in the middle of your sex-induced, foggy states, pleasure having clouded your thoughts throughout the whole thing and making you bolder than usual apparently.

“did you mean it?” anton began, his voice soft as he pressed his forehead to you, both your eyes closed while you still held each other close. “when you said you loved me?”

you hummed in agreement, deciding to be honest, nervous when you asked if he did too. anton replied that yes, he did, both of you smiling at that moment, giggling before sharing another kiss, this one more intimate, as if you were making a promise to each other to stop avoiding your feelings, and to finally lean into them, to let yourselves be together like you had been wanting for so long.

[seoulfulbliss]

Koga Yudai

Author’s Note: Never thought my first fic would be &Team, but here we are. Totally obsessed with them these days. They got me in a chokehold. Anyway, let me know your thoughts! Friendly reminder, YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORKS ANYWHERE.

Bf! Kei x Gf! Black reader

Synopsis: Your bf calls you clingy. It dissolves into a fight. You distance yourself to preserve your peace. He tries to work it out relentlessly.

Content: Slight angst w/ happy ending, little smut if you squint, gym bros &Team, hurt reader, slightly mean boyfie K, misunderstandings

Word Count: 5.3k

You and Kei had been dating for 3 months.

It started out when you bought a membership at his gym. You saw him often in passing and developed quite the gym crush. You found yourself thirsting after him with no real ambition to do anything about it. You figured you weren’t his type anyway. You had seen the type of women who would fake not knowing how to do an exercise just so he could help them. You were noticeably nothing like them. So you kept your distance, sneaking casual glances every now and then. Then one day, he seemed to notice you.

You were doing dynamic stretches for a warmup. You sat on the mat stretching to open your hips for better mobility during leg day. That’s when he approached you. He asked if anyone was taking up the space next to you. You shook your head no and kept going about your routine. Were you freaking out? Yes, a little. Who could blame you? He was cute. Then he decided to make conversation.

He talked about appreciating people who respected the art of taking care of the body correctly in tandem with their work out. He indicated towards your warm up stretches. “I’ve worked here as an instructor occasionally. You’d be surprised by the amount of people who don’t follow proper stretching protocol before an extensive weight training session.”

After that, it seemed like he acknowledged you. Somehow, some way, any time your schedules aligned, he would always find an excuse to be around you. “Oh, I need a wipe to clean down my station.” “Just reaching past you to get this weight.” “I can give you a few pointers on your form if you’d like.” He was always in orbit, hovering just out of the corner of your eye.

Gradually, you began to develop a friendship the more you spoke. He introduced you to his friends among the community gym. You started hanging out with them more often than your own friends. Then one night, Kei asked you to be his girlfriend. Now, fast forward to present day where you were having an increasingly frustrating conversation with your boyfriend.

“How is going to Fuma’s birthday party me being clingy all of a sudden?” You were trying to understand why he suddenly had an issue with you attending a social outing. “You’re not exactly subtle. You practically wear a billboard on your forehead saying ‘I like Kei’.” What the hell did that mean?

“What’s wrong with that?” You questioned. The poor dishes in your sink, primary victim to your frustration. You were scrubbing hard to ground yourself from the frustration brewing within you. “You wouldn’t want people to get the wrong idea.” This gave you pause. “Which is what?”

“That we’re dating.” The dishes you had been washing clattered in the sink. There’s no way he meant it the way you thought he did. Right? Being associated with you couldn’t have been the problem. “But we are.”

“Yeah. And we agreed to keep it low key.” Suddenly, you started to get the idea that maybe you two being together was the issue. “I don’t understand. You’re the one who pushed for us to keep our relationship a secret. I have complied for the most part. But demanding that I don’t show up to my friend’s party is insane.”

“He’s only your friend because you met through me.” He rebutted. “What is your issue?” You grit through clenched teeth, offended by his choice of words. “Just— can you please not go to the party?” He sighs. Staring at the wall in silent contemplation, you truly were in shock. Was he somehow embarrassed of you? Did he no longer want to be in the relationship? Too caught up in your web of thoughts, you found yourself spiraling. Anger, pain, and frustration at the forefront of your mind. Maybe it was better not to see him tonight. “Okay, Yudai.” You sigh.

“Thank you. I love yo—” You hung up the phone before he could finish his sentence.

Your phone immediately buzzes with a text. Why did you hang up?

You don’t respond, instead, opening your message thread with Fuma, communicating that you would no longer be in attendance. The best you could do was make up an excuse that you were sick.

That’s ok. Thnx for letting me know. Make sure you eat some warm soup so you can feel better soon 👍🏼

Within minutes, Kei texts again. Thank you, baby. Luv u. You don’t respond, opting to let him sit in the uncomfortability of your silence. But you damn sure did make it known that your read receipts were on.

The whole evening, you expected more texts from Kei. Maybe even with him apologizing for being a dick. To your surprise though, no such texts come through. Hardly any do, except for the ones in the shared group chat you have with his friends. All blowing up your phone from the party.

You switch over to Instagram to view everyone’s stories. They seem to be having fun. Wistful, you wish you could be there for the celebration. But in a moment like that, you really hadn’t been sure what to do. Opting not to go was better than arguing with Kei. Best believe you were gonna have words with him later though.

Then, you swipe on a story that makes you freeze.

It was your boyfriend, in a picture with a girl who was a mutual friend of some of the guys. You didn’t know her well, but you knew enough to know she had an obvious crush on your man. Yudai knew this too, well— you had told him on numerous occasions that you suspected she liked him. He just laughed it off as her being a younger friend that admired him as a brother.

He was wrong. Most men stupidly are. You’re a woman, you know good and damn well when another girl is checking for a man. Especially when the man in question is yours.

In her story, he’s got his arm around her shoulder while she kisses his cheek. He smiles at the camera, her posing with a peace sign cutely. Your blood simmers with rage.

So that’s why he didn’t want you to attend. She was gonna be there. He must have wanted to have his cake and eat it without you around to bear witness. That’s fine. If he wants to call you clingy and act single, then you can give him a preview of the single life before sending him on his way.

Your thumb hovered over the screen before liking her story. Then you unfollow her and Yudai respectively. Closing your phone, you scream into the pillow. Was it irrational? Yes. But three months of sneaking around was starting to affect you. Everyone had their insecurities, but this was making you feel like there was something wrong with you.

What was the point of being in a relationship if you had to hide it from your friends? Why approach you if he was gonna be embarrassed by it? Why couldn’t he just leave you the fuck alone if that were the case? Ugh.

In the late hours of the night, your phone buzzes. It’s Yudai. Bby, miss uuuuuu wanna cum c uuuuu. It’s clear by the way he types that he’s had one too many drinks.

Are you drunk, Yudai?

Nooooo, ‘m perfectly s ober 🙂‍↕️

You should go home. You’re drunk.

Bu I wan come c uuuu 😔

I’m gonna text Nico and tell him to take you home.

Nooooooooo

You text Nicholas and EJ, asking them to confiscate Kei’s phone and take him home. They do. The next morning, there's a knock at your apartment door. You open it to find Yudai on the other side. He is pouting. “Baby, you didn’t answer my texts or calls this morning.”

A part of you truly had no time for this. You were still licking your own wounds from the previous night. You didn’t have time to console a manchild from being upset with repercussions of his own making. “I was busy cooking before I started cleaning.” That much was true. Weekends typically were reset days where you cleaned from top to bottom. You were a firm believer that a clean space meant a clean mind. “Oh. Can I come in?” You felt the need to be petty. If he wanted to spend last night separate from you, then surely he could spend his Saturday elsewhere. “It’s gonna be a busy day Kei. I’ve got a lot of chores to do.”

“I can help.” He exclaims.

“That’s sweet, but you and I both know you’ll distract me.” He nods his head in contemplation for a bit. “Okay, I just wanted to come over and see you. And to apologize if I was a little mean yesterday.” If? A little? It took everything in you to control your face.

“Yeah, Yudai. I know you didn’t mean it. Thanks for the apology anyway.” He searches your face for a moment before humming in agreement. He can tell that something is off. But he’s just chalking it up to the workload ahead of you. You always did hate chores.

“Okay baby, don’t stress yourself out too much with it.”

“I won’t. Also, can you give this gift to Fuma for me?” You lean past the open door to the side table in your walkway. You pick up the gift bag and hand it to Kei. He furrows his brows. “Why not just give it to him yourself?”

“Because I’m not sure I’ll have time to in the next few days.” Your head tilts in increasing frustration. Part of you wanted him to take the gift and get out. The other part of you felt bad for feeling that way; only slightly. “You’ll see him at the gym though.” He tilts his head in confusion. “Can you just— please give it to him for me? I’d rather not hold on to it.” You sigh exasperatedly. He pauses for a fraction of a moment before taking the gift from you. “Yeah.”

“Thanks.”

“I'm gonna head out now. Make sure to take a break every now and then. Love you.” He leans forward to kiss you. You turn so the kiss lands on your cheek. You feel him stare at you for a fraction of a moment.

“Love you too,” you mumble back. And you really did, but what was this love costing you? He nods, backing up. “I’ll text you?” You nod back as he leaves.

Conversation between the two of you was scarce after that. Anytime he would ask to come over, you would make up an excuse, saying you were busy. When he would call or text, you would answer, just not as conversational as usual. Even with FacTime, you were hardly in the frame. He’s called you out on that twice.

“I’m just not feeling too pretty right now babe.” And he would pout before telling you how much he loved you. How beautiful you were to him.

But you were still insecure with the way he called you clingy. The word choice was not lost on you. It fell too easily from his lips. You also couldn’t shake the image of him cozied up with that girl when you pointed out numerous times her interest in him.

You even stopped showing up to the gym and weekly hangouts. The guys definitely noticed. Fuma wondered if you were still feeling sick. Some of the guys playfully scolded you. EJ gave you space, sending cheerful words of encouragement. Jo sent memes of puppies to pass the time. No one pushed it. They just assumed you were going through things.

And then, you canceled your membership.

You went to the gym on a day where you knew the two youngest would not be working the front desk. You also did so strategically around Fuma and Kei’s personal training schedules. Per the contract, you had to go in personally to cancel the membership. The front desk asked a series of questions regarding why you were leaving.

Was the service less than exemplary? Was the equipment unsatisfactory? Short answer, no. You were just looking for something different. And that was true.

You didn’t want to cling onto your man like some lost puppy. Yeah you integrated into his friend group, but you had your own friends too. You had been meaning to get into Pilates anyway. What greater opportunity to give your boyfriend space than to cancel your membership at his gym and sign up at the local Pilates place downtown?

It should’ve been fine. But you forgot they log names into the system for cancellations. Which is how everyone found out that something had to be wrong. You should’ve known. Maki had been on schedule checking the weekend logs when he saw it. Your name was on the cancellation list. Call him dramatic, but he could sense the impending doom from a mile away. What better way to get answers than to consult the chat?

Notifications kept popping off left and right. It was practically an interrogation. It was news to Kei as well that you had decided to cut your membership. He was surprised you would make that kind of decision without consulting him. Was there something from his gym that you were missing? He wanted to ask, but his own ego had taken a personal hit. So, he had to act nonchalant to not raise suspicion. What blew everything up further though was Harua’s observation. He had said it so innocently. But the damage was done.

Oh, you unfollowed Kei too?

The chat went silent for a split second before your phone started blowing up again. This time, it was messages from the chat and several missed calls from Kei, Maki, and Taki. The former, definitely mad. The latter two, just nosy.

Yuma: what’s going on?

Nico: 👀👀👀

Kei Private Message: Answer the phone.

You just turned your phone on silent, not wanting to deal with the brewing storm. That’s how you found yourself at your door 30 minutes later, Kei breathing harshly on the other side. He said nothing as he brushed past you into your apartment. He stood in the middle of your living room waiting for you to speak. “You have something you wanna share with the class?” He asks.

“What do you want me to say?” You lean against the wall leading to your kitchen, arms crossed as a preventative measure to keep yourself from saying something you might regret. It was practically on the tip of your tongue. Vicious words were always a way to hurt Kei. But you couldn’t hurt him the way you were hurting. So you stayed quiet in the wake of his rant.

“How ‘bout start with what’s going on with you.” He growls in frustration. That was unfair. What right did he have to be upset with you when he had done nothing but bulldoze over your feelings the last few weeks? “You’ve been unlike yourself for over a week, ghosting everyone in the chat, ghosting me. And now you unfollow me on Instagram? What's up with that?” So he had noticed. And instead of rationally comforting his girlfriend when something was clearly wrong, he took to throwing partially true accusations around. If pissing you off was the goal, he was succeeding.

“I don’t think we should see each other for a while.” You blurt out, hurt that he would rather point out your actions than own up to his own mistakes. There is a pregnant pause where he analyzes you carefully. “So what,” he says, voice thick with something heavy in his chest. “You ghost me and now you wanna break up?”

“No, I’m just giving you space.” Immediately, no. He wasn’t having that. In fact, he refused to receive it. Giving each other space was nowhere on his list of things to do with you. Not even close.

“I don’t want space.”

“Well I do.” He regards you with a moment of clarity. You could see the exact moment enlightenment dawned on him. It was always a skill of his, being able to pinpoint discrepancies with laser focus precision. Studying your body language was second nature to him. His sharp gaze felt like being under a microscopic lens. He squints.

“If this is about the birthday party, I already apologized—” You cut him off quickly. There was no way he was about to gaslight you. “It’s about more than the stupid fucking party, Yudai.”

He takes in a deep breath of surprise. “Since when do you cuss at me?”

“Since you started acting dense. Do you even know what you’re apologizing for?” It’s like you had to hold his hand to walk him through it. “Because I didn’t want you going to Fuma’s party?” Oh he had the nerve. You’ll give him that.

“It’s not just that. It’s about why you asked me. It’s about what you said. It’s about how you said it. And it’s about your actions at the party.” It’s like he wanted to be single at this point. Because there was no way this cute, cute man you were hopelessly in love with was this oblivious to his own actions.

“What did I do at the party?” You scoff. Of course that’s what he would focus on.

“I saw you cuddled up to that girl. Mind you, the same girl I told you had a crush on you.” He groans, fed up with the constant accusation.

“It’s not even like that. She’s just a friend.” He cannot be serious right now. How dare he gripe and complain about something that clearly bothered you. Your eye twitched so hard it might as well have been a spasm.

“She was kissing you.” He rolled his eyes.

“It was just the cheek.”

“Koga Yudai.” The room sits heavy with silence. Disappointment rolls off of your body. “How dare you disrespect me like my feelings don’t matter.” Your voice is wet with emotion. There is a clear moment of regret on his face. He reaches for you. “Baby—” You step back before he can do so.

“What are we even doing?” You question as the cracks in your relationship fissure deeper into your skin. “I’m sorry.” He is desperate, an unsettled feeling blooming within his chest. “For what?!” You exclaim.

“For invalidating your feelings. I shouldn’t have let her kiss me knowing how you feel about her being around me.”

“What else?” He stares in confusion, puzzled by what else could possibly be wrong.

“Yudai, do you even love me?” Worn out. You are so worn out by wanting to love this man so much, yet not even able to do it publicly. “Of course, baby.”

“Why are you embarrassed to admit to your friends that we’re dating?” There’s a moment where you can visibly see him fluster. He stutters out a response, but it is incomprehensible. “Are you just playing with me? Hoping to pass the time?”

“I love you, Y/N. I swear.” These days, it didn't quite feel like it.

“Then why hide?” His head hung low with shame. At least he had the decency to feel some type of remorse.

“Because I love you too much. I’ve never been this crazy about a woman before. And the guys know that. If they knew how desperate you make me, they’d never let me live it down.” He confesses.

“Saving face is more important than declarations of love? A fucking social reputation?”

“It’s more than that—”

“No, it isn’t. It’s you not being man enough to publicly claim me as your girlfriend. You’re a coward.” You whisper. Clarity guiding you now more than ever.

“Don’t do that to me.”

“No, Kei. I’m just… I’m tired. And I’m starting to think we both want different things.”

“Don’t say that.”

You continue, “I want a lover who’s brave. Someone who can love me in public and in private. I don’t want to question whether I’m good enough or not. I need someone who isn’t scared to show me off to our mutual friends. That’s the least I deserve. If you can’t give me that, then maybe you should leave.”

“Please—”

“Go.” You command with finality.

Lump in his throat, Kei gathers himself and walks out of your apartment. You had expected him to put up more of a fight. But maybe he was just as worn out as you. Fragile relationship fraying at the seams. What little torment you could see behind his eyes had come out full display by mid conversation. Maybe space was for the best. At least that’s what you told yourself, sitting in the middle of your living room floor with silent tears cascading down your face. Yeah, space was good.

Over the course of the next couple of weeks, it is clear that something had transpired with you. While you don’t avoid the group chat per se, you do make yourself scarce when Yudai is around. It isn’t easy, seeing his name flash across the screen and wanting to respond with dumb memes. You aren’t sure if it’s easy for him, but he seems to be handling it well. He was a constant presence in the chat. Typical Yudai. You guess it was better for him to keep up the ruse this way. That hurt your heart a bit. But you were making do with the absence of him.

You went back to spending time with your friends. Your girls. You went out more, finding a new love for pilates. You spent more time loving yourself, taking care of you. In that time though, you learned that you really did miss Kei. You missed holding his hand, kissing him, missed when he squished your cheeks right before biting them. You missed the back hugs when he would cook for you, missed workouts together. You missed the way he would look at you in the lowlight of your living room, feet propped up on his lap as you yapped about the latest thing you were interested in. And he would stare lovingly, happy to participate in this tiny space of love you resided in. You missed it all. And now that you had him, you were scared to prepare yourself for what life would look like without him again. Did he even miss you? You weren’t sure.

Unbeknownst to you in your contemplation, across town, Kei was doing the brave thing. Sitting in Harua and Jo’s shared apartment, silence surrounded the space of his confession.

Finally, Yuma breaks the silence. “What do you mean the two of you are dating?”

“What do you mean it’s been months?” Maki.

“Why are we just now finding out?” Harua.

“Is that why she's upset?” Jo, ever the observant one.

At his quiet observation, the room falls silent again. Nicholas breaks it. “No fucking way. Tell me you didn’t.” He gasps. Kei nods his head in disappointment at himself. Collective groans of disbelief resound throughout the room.

“Brother, you had the opportunity to call this beautiful woman your girlfriend, and your first thought was to hide her?” Fuma deadpans. Kei tried his best to explain. He really did. But his friends were not having it.

“Is he stupid? Bro bagged a baddie and didn’t say anything? Maaaan, she would’ve been on my lockscreen, would’ve been on my sweater, would’ve been on my necklace. Hell, I would probably get a bullhorn and announce it to the world. Instagram definitely would’ve seen her on my feed. Can’t let anyone think they have a chance with her.” Of course Maki had to add his additional two cents.

“Yeah, there’s like plenty of dudes at the gym that want her. That was stupid.” Nico.

“Do you think I have a chance with her?” Taki. Yuma slaps him upside the head.

“Everyone’s right. You are pretty stupid.” Ah, EJ. What happened to sugar coating things? “You don’t deserve her.” Jo states softly.

“You know what, fuck yeah Jo. He doesn’t deserve her.” Maki, once again.

Needless to say, Kei received a proper scolding from his friends. Then they helped him understand how events had transpired from your point of view. He can admit he was a dick regarding your feelings. It couldn't have been easy to navigate social circles without being able to be a couple with your boyfriend. He had taken that opportunity from you. He was ashamed. Which is why he had to make it up to you.

It started out as little things. He would deliver a single rose to your door daily. Then, he would send you food after posting on your story that you were hungry. He knew all your favorites. You want the honey chicken with veggie fried rice from your favorite Chinese restaurant? You got it. You want tasty, tangy barbecue? No worries, there’s a good spot 15 minutes up the street. He’ll totally get it for you. What’s that? You want coffee? He’s express ordering it to your job right now. Oh, you craving a world class omelet full of nutrition and protein? Bet. This one he made from scratch and hand delivered to you before taking off down the hall so you wouldn’t see him. Even still, you totally knew it was him. And it was sweet the amount of effort he put into the things he knew about you. Then came the letters.

Yudai was always good with his words. When you first realized how romantic he was, it took your breath away. You had sat under the stars one night after a meal out with the boys. He had said something about stars being suns of distant planets. Then he turned to you with this cheeky grin saying, “Even with all the stars in the sky, none shine brighter than you. Maybe that’s why I’m always looking at you. My little star.” Was it cheesy? Yes. But his words caused you to melt 1000%. Because damn, who knew he had it in him?

So imagine your surprise when he starts leaving them for you. Somehow he had bribed any and everybody in your office to hand deliver you his letters to you. Like clockwork, you received an envelope for every day of the week. Sometimes two if he was feeling sappy. And his words flowed like poetry. You never realized how much he paid attention to you until reading the confessions of his letters. And you were happy, because he was trying.

Still, he hadn’t shown his face. But you did hear from Harua that he had told them about you two. That put a smile on your face for the entire day.

But now, you were a bit nervous for tonight. The boys had called a get together and requested that you attend. No arguments. There was no way you could get out of it. You would especially be threatened by the younger ones if you even tried to protest. Something about knowing where you sleep. Whatever that meant. And sure, you and Kei technically were still dating. But you would hardly consider yourself conversational after that fight. You hadn't properly talked in weeks. Just Yudai silently showing the ways he was devoted to you. He was cutely apologetic. Tonight however, he was on a mission.

You were standing in Fuma’s kitchen talking to EJ. He was going on about some girl that he liked and needed advice. It was nice seeing him like this. He was typically shy. He and Jo being two of the biggest members yet being the biggest babies. It was adorable. But it was becoming increasingly harder to focus with the way your boyfriend’s eyes drilled into the side of your head.

He was across the room chatting with Taki, eyes laser focused on you. You had glanced his way several times. The look in his eyes saying more inappropriate things than you could count. Predatory gaze causing your face to flush. He looked too good in the lowlights of the apartment. Fuma had those colorful neon lights on display to match the ambiance of the vibe. Red. That’s what covered the space between you. He smirked over the rim of his cup. Damn, those lights were definitely working. He had no idea what the fuck Taki was yapping about. All he saw was you and your legs in that skirt. He was gonna combust if he didn’t get his hands on you soon.

You worked to keep a straight face as you continued chatting with Euijoo. But Kei wanted you all to himself tonight. So he interrupts, making up some excuse about Nicholas wanting to make him a drink. “But he already made me a drink.” Euijoo tilts his head in confusion. You try not to laugh at what Yudai is trying to do. “Oh. I must’ve misheard him then since he was too busy trying to dunk Maki’s head in the toilet.”

“Dunking Maki’s WHAT?!” And he’s off to put out this fake fire Yudai just lit. You turn to him, mirth dancing beneath your eyes. He’s already looking at you, eyes drinking you in like old school chardonnay. “Hi baby.” He whispers, hands coming to rest upon your waist. “That was rude. I was talking with Euijoo.”

“And I wanna talk to you.” You roll your eyes playfully at his antics. He grabs the cup out of your hand and sets it aside. “You look beautiful.” Your eyes soften at his admission. He really had been trying for the past few weeks, showing up in ways that surprised you. He had given you space, but you can tell he misses you. And honestly, you miss him too. Your hands come up to cup his face. He rocks you both slowly to the music. “You clean up nice yourself.” His eyes crinkle with the easy banter between you.

You spend the rest of the night in his embrace, open and vulnerably raw in the space of friendship. His friends laugh. Of course they do. Would they really be friends if they didn’t tease you both a little? “You guys look cute.” Fuma mumbles, coming up beside you as you fix yourselves another drink. You turn back to look at Kei, surrounded by your friends. Head thrown back in laughter at Euijoo’s disappointment in him for playing ‘such a mean trick.’ Yeah, that was totally your man.

With the evening winding down, you decide to take another step towards reconciliation. You wanted Yudai to know that you forgave him, and that he could have all of you. Completely. So, you whispered for him to come home. And he knows what you mean. Because for both of you, home is where the other is. And you cannot be complete without one another.

“Come home with me.” He does.

That night, he makes love to you in a way you never experienced before. It’s like the events of the last month were an invitation to free him. He is baring his entire soul to you, and you see him. All of him. He grunts lowly into your neck, your legs wrapped around his waist. Your hands rub circles into his bare back as he ruts into you. Whimpers fall from your lips.

“That’s it baby. Right there.” The bed rocks with finality as you both crash toward your release. Blood rushes to your ears from the euphoria of it all. He breathes harshly as he falls on top of you. A comfortable silence washes over you. Brushing his sweat covered bangs out his face, you place a kiss to his forehead. He chuckles into your collarbone, groaning as he pulls out of you. He dumps the condom and cleans you both up.

Basked in moonlight, he comes to rest behind you. You, the little spoon. He kisses your shoulder with soft admissions of love. “Are we okay?” He whispers. With no hesitation, you answer truthfully.

“Yes.”

And you meant it. Because you realize that Yudai loves you so so so much. Unsurprisingly, you love him just the same.

[showerthoughtsofagoldengoose]

Random Headcanon/Theory I Have

So I know a lot of people point to the whole genocide thing as a reason to hate Eridan and all but I think it's kind of weird when you consider how much violence is actively encouraged in Alternian culture. Alternia was purposefully made into a violent culture, if you remember. It was curated into a place with the express purpose of raising trolls who could actually survive sgrub.

Many of the beta trolls have ambtions relating to death or killing, and while they each have their reasons for having these ambitions it is still noteworthy nonetheless:

So having looked at that let's see how they set up Eridan's character in canon:

Ok so let's break this down.

Eridan's near the top of the hemospectrum, and here we see it mentioned that you can kinda just get away with killing people below you

not only this but violence is expected, and even more so from a seadweller, a member of a caste that is known for its penchant for violence. Seadwellers and landwellers are known to have an animosity.

And yet, Eridan has friends from lower castes and later on even resorts to flirting with these individuals.

He goes as far to essentially tell Kanaya not to come to school tomorrow:

And he and Karkat have a very sweet and sincere friendship:

Also this is so fucking cute:

He also spares Karkat in his murder spree.

The comic mentions how he thinks about killing everyone by neglecting to feed Feferi's lusus for one day

In short this is a very fucked up kid. But why is he like this?

This is where my theory comes in. So let's return to this block of text, shall we?

Notable here are uses of the terms "dubiously" and "image you are careful to craft through EXAGGERATED EMOTIONAL THEATRICS."

These horrible disgusting things are followed up by a statement about magic. There's this bitter angry rant "like a made up friend, the way wizards are. Made up make believe FAKEY FAKEY FAKES!" immediately followed by this cute, sincere sentence: "it's still fun though."

We can see IN the comic this undercurrent of sincerity concerning magic multiple times, my favorite instances being these two:

To me magic definitely represents like, a lot of things in homestuck, but for Eridan it's definitely something he somewhat cast aside because he's growing up, and he wants to show off how mature and sophisticated he is. But of course a small part of him still holds onto his inner child, in some way or another. He can't completely cast aside his old interest, but he can suck the imagination out of it, as he wants to look entirely at things that are grounded in reality, and sensible.

He wants his quadrants filled because it is sensible- he wants to survive, and his actions are frequently motivated by a need to live and find stability, which is something that dating is meant to do both of in troll society!

So now let's go to the genocide complex. The theory I have:

Why I think he has it is because he sees these other trolls developing their own ambitions, often respective to their individual castes, that have a tendency to relate to death and violence, so Eridan proves HIS own superiority over them by settling on the most bombastic possible ambition of all that is befitting of his caste. He's shaped his personality and beliefs into ones that will help him survive and prove himself.

He wants to feel right, proper, adequate. He wants respect, and deep down, love and security. He recognizes how hard it is to just, fucking even exist, and he struggles so, so much trying to do it. His attempts at garnering respect backfire, everything he does to feel adequate makes him look even worse. His own friends tease him to his face, disregard him, and call him a creep. He just can't express himself very well. He's trying his best and constantly failing.

Everything Eridan does is for the sake of his own survival, security, and feelings of "normalcy" or meeting up with the expectations that come with his privilege and noble blood.

He's absolutely unhappy with his station in life. In the comic he only enjoys the orphaner work because he gets to do it with Feferi and Vriska. The second it stops mattering and he finds himself a new purpose (the wand Kanaya makes to shut him the fuck up), he rushes to it. Suffice to say, I don't think he was exactly HAPPY when he talked about killing all these trolls. The comic even implies possibly pity on his end towards his victims:

Idk how to end this.

Just uh.

Eridan is a cool character :)

[averagewriter-inthedark]

His Imprint 🐺 | Quil Ateara Headcanon

requested 📨 yes/no | Twilight Masterlist

Being Quil Ateara's boyfriend/imprint would look like:

For starters, you two were friends growing up and before he joined the pack. You lived in Forks and therefore attended the high school in town but your father worked with Quil's grandfather. 

You guys spent a lot of time together. Playing sports, surfing at La Push, driving to Port Angeles for a day when you finally got your license. The guys on the Reservation liked you and often invited you to their bonfires. Quil taught you the history of his people, you showed him how to catch a fish and tie a proper knot for when you guys went hunting with your family. 

Once a month you guys went camping. Usually with a group, but as you got older and....feelings happened, it started to just be the two of you. 

Quil was your best friend. And you were his. When it became something more, the both of you struggled to tell the other of your feelings. Deciding to rather be silent and not ruin your friendship in case the other didn't reciprocate. It hurt to hear him speak about the girls in class, or wanting to ask a cheerleader to prom. When you got a girlfriend, mostly to get rid of the feelings for Quil, you saw something in his face change each time you mentioned her. Then the one time you both invited girls on a double date, things were tense. But of course no one said anything.

It was a whole year of agonizing, unrequited love. Going through the days pretending your best friend was not the object of your desires. But you held it together, and unbeknownst to you Quil was doing the same. 

Eventually the truth would come out shortly after his 16th birthday when he shifted for the first time. That's when you discovered there was more to the legends he told you as kids, and why his friends had distanced themselves from him the year prior. 

The moment Quil imprinted on you it changed his world. He'd always felt drawn to you as kids which developed into a crush, but the second your eyes connected after his first shift, you became the center of his world. The gravity which held him to the Earth. 

Initially Quil kept the information a secret. Also on the advisement, not order, of Sam. He wanted Quil to adjust to his shifting and also they were dealing with the threat of the newborn Army. Once it was dealt with, Quil set you down and came clean. About everything. You already knew he was a werewolf, which took some time to process but you accepted him whole heartedly and did not view Quil in a different light. Finding out you were his imprint.....that took the air out of you. 

Besides your heart on the verge of exploding from your chest, you felt an overwhelming happiness and relief. Not only did Quil admit his feelings for you, but pretty much told you he was your soulmate. Your protector. The person cut from the same thread and will be by your side for eternity. 

Talk about straight out a romance novel. 

Your silence while processing the information led Quil to freak out, thinking you were offended and told you it didn't have to be romantic, that he'd be your friend if that's what you wanted. How'd you shut him up? With a kiss of course. Igniting the fireworks in both of you, committing yourself to him as he was to you.

Coming out to your family and friends proved easier than expected. The Pack knew you were his imprint, and therefore vowed to never hurt you. They'd come to your aid if ever needed and swore protection. Your family always had a feeling there was more than what meets the eye between your friendship with Quil. They noticed the longing looks you sent him when he wasn't looking. The smile he wore each time you spoke. And the same went for his family. 

Of the pack, you guys hung out the most with Jacob and Embry. Spending days cliff diving, or getting the surfboards out when the weather was nice. The one time they all shifted in front of you nearly gave you a stoke as it caught you off guard.

But you had to admit, Quil's wolf form was adorable.

As your relationship progressed you still were each other's best friend. You stole his hoodies; he ate your leftovers. You had movie nights every weekend, went camping whenever you needed to get away from home. Helped each other with homework, applied for colleges together. You were in tune with each other. 

There was a time you wondered if you'd ever meet the other half you were destined to be with, only dreaming it would be your best friend. Having it become reality, Quil with your forever, well that was enough to make you howl at the moon 😉

[cowboyjen68]

Hi, I'm gonna try and keep this relatively simple as in not into detail about why I am the way I am (basically I have anxiety around women despite being a woman myself; my mom used to be overly critical, unpredictable moods and take her stress out on me, and when I told her I'm bi she just kind of rolled her eyes and dismissed me lol (she's better about so many things now but the damage is done))(+ I got bullied by girls and abused by my friends growing up, a lot)

I'm recently starting to come more out of my shell and understand that my attraction to women isn't going to go anywhere, like I'm still going to have crushes on them and want to be with them. That's just the reality for me. Nothing wrong with that.

But I feel like I'm still chained down by my past and the sort of anxiety that it brings! I see it affecting my friendships with women, too, I notice: once the friendship starts to deepen, I feel a sort of threshold rising. It starts feeling more like I need to 'perform' better and I doubt myself, so I pull away. Feel like a fraud.

I'm understanding that I've developed this fear of not being good enough to be in women's general vicinity. It's not real, it's all in my head, I know it, but... I guess in my heart of hearts I just don't believe a woman could really really love me, or trust me, or take me seriously as a person and most of all, still be attracted to me like I am to her—I have nothing I can offer to any woman out there, is the belief I'm trying to tackle. Because, it must not be true, right?

The more practical level this issue presents at is social situations and flirting. I'm a big joker and like to give people laughs and let them feel appreciated/welcome, but if there're women I'm attracted to I just completely trip all over my own legs in a way that leaves me more embarrassed than anything. My flirting is (or, it feels) really awkward, and I'm constantly second-guessing whether she is just being nice, or responding actually. I feel like a total creep at times and worry about coming across creepy somehow, despite doing nothing out of the ordinary.

I'm also feeling quite inferior, because I'm in my late 20's and I should have at least this part of my shit together, but I don't. Yet, I can't just sit around isolated and loveless until I'm 'together' enough to 'impress her' or whatever else nonsense my weird complexes/perfectionisms try to tell me! I have to go out and try to make connections, go through trial/error and be a proper friend above all, I think.

I don't expect any comprehensive therapist-tier mindhacks on how to tackle any (or fuck forbid all) of this. What I'm kind of looking for perhaps, is reassurance or a kind word? Not that I want anyone to be going through these kind of things, though, what scares me more is the thought of being alone in this, especially that of being doomed into being stuck forever alone like this. Like, I feel so socially stunted. I know what I'm supposed to work on, but it all just feels like a massive hurdle that can't be fixed with a couple tips on flirting.

... though, flirting tips would also be welcome if you know what I'm saying. Or maybe advice on how to loosen up, keep calm and get over the assumption that everyone is straight and nobody's gonna be interested ever (aka. start seeing and really receiving the signs someone might be interested). Maybe a few words to help with how intimidating it is to try and make an entry to bi/lesbian spaces and make friends there, after so many freaking years up Aslan's? Gotta start somewhere with it.

I live in a relatively safe for LGBT+ country by the way, so I've got that going for me so far, as in, I can afford everyday normal behaviour and (up to a point) openness that would be immensely risky in a lot of places 'round the globe. It's a definite advantage.

Anyway, love you blogging about your life here, it's very inspiring to see how far you've gotten along with building a life that's yours <3 it gives me hope, too! And yeah I guess I'm in awe. Also how kind of you to receive anons and respond thoughtfully to all these young folks in need of advice and support! You're so beautiful for that. A real one, a role model if there ever was one.

Wishing you and everyone frequenting this blog all the best!

(hopefully tumblr doesn't mess up and somehow bungle the anonymity)(if this is too much it's okay to just delete)(hopefully this also doesn't send multiple times, gosh I'm nervous)

Again I come with my hat in hand to apologize for this blog being neglected.

I have good news. With or without trauma of the sort you have endured many woman are raised to mistrust other women and see them as either better with higher standards than we could ever achieve or just not to be trusted because they are spiteful, back stabbing or judgmental. It is so odd but women are told be be friends with other women because men want to have their man friends but at the same time we are not so subtly taught that women make terrible friends.

SO in feeling like you are not good enough or don't belong you are in fact just like many of the other women around you who feel the exact same way.

I too am one who loves to make women laugh or feel good and sometimes when they do, just like a kid who realizes they did something right, I go over board and am bolstered to keep on making jokes and trying to continue the laughter, even when it gets to the awkward stage. The want to impress women can encourage me to take it too far.

The best flirting it to be kind and complimentary while maintaining eye contact with a small smile. Sincerity and genuineness can be seen and felt by most women. So if you find someone worth flirting with, compliment her on something she put effort into (clothes, hair cut, make up, jewelry etc) and mean it. Then stop talking LOL. I tend to keep going. Let her respond and answer simply. You're welcome to her thank you or when she says "really? it is not big deal" say "well i noticed and thought you should know someone noticed". Simple and authentic. If you don't mean it, don't say it.

The key is sort of less is more but not in a "hard to get" kind of way but in a be sincere in what you say and genuinely listen to her reaction so You can respond appropriately kind of way.

Confidence and timing comes with practice.

[gofishygo]

mito mito mito hihi 😋

i’ve been having some thoughts n i felt like sharing w the class newayssss

so i was having bubble tea earlier and i started thinking,,,,what cod characters would like it? i feel like price def wouldn’t,,simon wouldn’t mind it but he does def think its too sweet and proper tea is superior and blah blah blah (i acc don’t know im kinda divided on that like i hc him as a sweet tooth but bubble tea,,,ehhh i feel like he wouldn’t like it all that much like he’d be all grumbly about it,,, idfk

johnny and gaz i think would like it lots ,,

i also think alex wouldn’t like it abd farah would (i js like hc farah as this secret softie ok leave me alone 😞)

but THAT got me thinking,,,, what other food preferences would they have ?? i think gaz would rlly like sushi (saw a fan art of him on a sushi date w the reader and i forgot who made it but ):$/:)/&!:!!!!! it was so cute) and i also think gaz would handle spicy food well ?? and he would like seafood in general methinks (tryna think of some select seafood items he wouldn’t like but im drawing a blank bc im vegetarian shusbssjnsuen)

idrk ab simon and johnny and price,,,,,,out of them 3, i feel like simon or johnny would have the biggest sweet tooth (they’re on like completely dif ends of the spectrum character wise but shh i js know it) but they all eat A SHIT TON like the food could be burned or too salty or smth but if they’ve js come back from a mission then they’re eating that shit UP. and asking for seconds. and thirds. they would still give u food feedback if it’s some other day tho

also johnny is extremely passionate about haggis. no i have never tried it yes i js know he is ok moving on

KONIGGGG hmmmm,,,, i have no fucking idea lmao i think? a lot of german cusine involves bread and stuff,,,so……………i think he’d have rlly bland meals idk

i’ve been rlly into keegan lately but i cant come up w anything for him aaaa

also gaz would be the only one who knows how to use chopsticks. the others would learn fast being in the military and all but gaz and chopstick skills js make sense???

ANYWAY im soso sry for rambling sm lmao this is a lot of words,,,,,and this isn’t a req by any means !!! js needed to hear ur thoughts bc food is js calling to me like “ok but would blank character like this” like. urgh. ok im done now i think but yeah food preferences for cod characters of ur choice

ALSO !!! THE IOS SHARK STICKERS REMIND ME OF U,,,,,look at them$:!!;&:!3 OK IM ACC DONE NOW BYE BEY MITO HIPE U DONT FALL ASLEPE READING ALL THAT

AHHH hi weebun !! ^^ i was literally having bubble tea with my sister like a few hours ago and when i checked the inbox n saw this i BOLTED !! sorry for never responding to this, i forgot inbox existed..,

notes: shittily wrote as this as a warmup/just general yap :> sorry for messiness and incoordination.., platonic, no warnings !! unless ur lactose intolerant idk

so you'll be jus chillin w the 141 on base and then say something like "boba is absolute gas shits better than normal tea" and of course, since the majority of the taskforce is british, you get absolutely fucking jumped for it. like- keep in mind, you say this price, the NUMBER ONE TEA AND BISCUTS DEFENDER, so you do end up getting toilet duty for a week with the explanation of 'uncordial behaviour.'

but after your deployment, you are the one to arrange where the 141 meet up. it's a little ritual you guys have developed to stay connected in between missions, one that makes your friendship seem a bit more real. sometimes the only thing that keeps your eyes open and heart pumping. and since you're an absolute fucking menace, you ask if you can meet around the heart of london- and then drag them all into the nearest bubble tea store you can.

-

price... doesn't end up liking it. takes a total of two sips, nearly chokes on the pearls, and then sets the cup down. he claims he's been around long enough to know that this- like many other foods, is probably some 'trendy millennial bullshit that'll disappear in a solid few', but that doesn't help ease the insane side eye that he gets from the cashier.

but to your surprise, ghost seems somewhat okay with it. his face doesnt really change (from what you can tell- his mouth is still hidden due to some face mask he put on), but he seems neutral, relaxed, even. he mutters something along the lines of how it isn't too bad, but it doesn't beat a cuppa- to which you chose to ignore, and how he'll probably just stick to having an earl grey in the mornings. but a few months later, you catch him at the same boba store, and you cant help but giggle to yourself.

soap fucking inhales the drink. its genuinely concerning, to say the very least. he seems to like.. unhinge his jaw like some kind of snake, and then inhales the whole drink in what you think is a millisecond. and since he's the only scotsman on the team- thinks the whole 'tea n biscuits' ritual his colleagues have is utter stupidity, so not only does he now FREQUENTLY drink boba because he likes it- he also drinks out of utter spite.

gaz is the only one with a seemingly respectable opinion about boba, unfortunately. he's had it before, multiple times- it appeals to his sweet tooth and is the occasional treat after long missions. but unlike you, gaz does not value peace, and seems to keep egging soap on in chugging unreasonable amounts of the drink. (and he doesnt mention it, as he does not want to face the same punishment as you did, but he thinks that bubble tea is sometimes, just sometimes better than his cuppa.)

masterlist (some of my other stuff is better promise)

[animentality]

it really pisses me off how isagi doesn't see bachira as a threat.

no one does, not even the damn creators.

isagi is shocked bachira is above him in third selection. raichi can't believe bachira's doing the best out of everyone in the former team z.

he is literally the only reason isagi even awakened his ego in the second fucking chapter. isagi would never have eliminated kira without him.

he was a terrifying fucking presence. you can tell by how he was drawn.

he's a menacing figure.

and he's like, one of the most powerful members of team z from the get go.

he literally solo dribbled/scored against the BEST TEAM IN THEIR STRATUM, who were literally undefeated up until that point, AND who had completely crushed their team morale.

he got past the entire japanese u20 team, and would've scored, if not for Plot.

it's so annoying how he's been relegated to just Isagi's best buddy and he's been thrown off screen.

one of the most wasted potentials in the second selection for me was the fact that isagi losing bachira was treated as only an emotional loss for isagi.

because as sweet as that was, and as much as I love them pining for each other on opposite sides of the cafeteria, it's such a fucking shame.

that never once.

not once.

did isagi ever think... oh FUCK.

the guy who used to fucking carry me for all of the first selection... has now joined the team that I couldn't even beat with him on my side.

fuck. shit.

how am I gonna get him back, when that requires beating him first?

it's because isagi doesn't respect women.

also the creators don't respect women because they treat bachira like isagi's love interest, and thus NOT A THREAT.

misogyny used against a male character, guys, it's possible.

and it's even WORSE.

because bachira and rin should really be this fucking horrifying dream team.

I know rin is doing his whole, I'm better than everyone else schtick, but bachira is EXCELLENT at bringing the best out of people.

he helped isagi eliminate kira. he helped isagi score multiple times. he forced aryu to jump higher, and nagi to trap without totally slowing down the spin.

he is an excellent passer.

he and rin should've been this unstoppable force. the final bosses of second selection.

it would've enhanced the narrative tremendously, because not only is it the emotional climax of this arc...

isagi getting the chance to take his friend back, but also prove he's better than his rival.

but also.

it's an exciting action climax, because the guy he once relied on to help him score, is now his enemy, and he has to use both his knowledge of him as a person AND his new skills to defeat him... so he can take him back.

I would also like to point out, that it would've been a really fun inversion of the battle shonen trope of defeat means friendship, lol.

rin is an excellent striker. bachira should've been enabling him to be even worse than he already was. he should've been seen as a real threat, all along. not just a prize isagi needed to win back.

isagi should've been fucking worried about rin and bachira being on the same team too.

but he wasn't. he was just worried about rin being better.

because he's a sexist.

and he doesn't respect his girlfriend.

isagi, you need to respect women.

also, the creators need to respect bachira.

if they did, they might've actually had rin and bachira bringing out the best in each other, and making that a real fucking problem for isagi and his team.

and hell, they could've even had isagi having a mini break down as he realizes oh my god, bachira might be better off with rin... maybe he'd rather be with him.

make this a proper shoujo, kaneshiro, you coward. show me the cucking.

but no.

no.

sexism ruins everything, guys. it really does.

bachira I'm sorry you keep getting fridged to develop a male character.

this is disgusting.

feminism for bachira, man.

[imbecominggayer]

How To Write Time Skips

From @ravennova7: How to you handle time skips in stories? I can write out scenes happening in real time, but narrative summarising isn’t something I’m good at. I just can’t seem to write exposition properly. "

And so, this post will be dedicated to how to write time skips!

A) Introduction

It's important to properly weave time skips into the story. Without the proper set-up for time progression, the audience can quickly loose their footing. Even if you are trying to write a story where the audience gets thrown of their feet, the readers need some type of directioning.

In order to incorperate time skips into the story, you need to soften the edges between here and now.

If you are writing a time skip in one chapter, you could use an expository phrase such as "three months passed...", "one day morphed into the next and suddenly...", "by the time...", and all those other types of phrases.

When you are writing the time skip across different chapters, in my opinion, it's easier to write a skip in time due to the fact that's more weaved into the formatting of the story.

You could change the perspective to a new character or return the perspective to the original holder.

One example of a time skip I really liked was when a character was trapped in time. From their perspective, we see them walking up to and shattering a hourglass. When we meet up with another character, we learn that some time has passed.

It felt jarring but not as jarring as it could have been if that scene wasn't in there.

Overall use section breaks to establish that the flow of the narrative has changed. I also try to use running themes throughout the time skip as a way of linking these two scenes together. It could be through the same character being the focus of the scene. It could be a "before vs after" type of comparison in which a character tries to do something two different times to show change. Basically, a training montage.

Another example of a time skip that was used effectively was "What Remains Of Edith Finch". Specifically, the ending monologues. The protagonist's ever-present narration guided the audience through the many years that passed. The story keeps the same emotional through line as everything feeds into one another. It feels like a conversation.

B) Limitation And Usage

Time skips are used to skip over detail that isn't providing necessary information. Movies often use montages to communicate that time is passing.

Time skips and montages are necessary tools because readers don't want to sit through weeks of the same character going to the gym.

Time skips, in my opinion, should be used sparingly and only when necessary. It's exceedingly jarring. It can smack down on the emotional threwline. It's messy.

REMEMBER: Don't use time skips to skip out on character growth.

I remember this one f*cking time when the protagonist got injured. Then a second later. He's healed. This would be fine. UNTIL

They had this protagonist undergo MASSIVE character growth WITHOUT ME! This guy wasn't my protagonist. He was suddenly nice! He was confident. He was best friends with everyone now!!?! He was suddenly besties with this guy who was his enemy just two seconds ago!!!!?!

I had to drop the story.

Try to keep character relationships the same through the time skips if you are "going to black". If you are pulling a montage move where you pass through the events of their friendship building then it's fine. If you have a character think about why their relationship changed, fine.

BUT NEVER just randomly have your protagonist suddenly change! Explain the change. I'm in your character's head to see their progression. To be there on their journey, dont make me skip the big action sequence!

Use time skips to skip over the in-between steps. Skip over the characters buying a ticket. Skip over the character's walk up the stairs. Skip over the fight sequence.

But don't skip over important and potentially engaging character development!!!!

C) Selective Conclusion

Remember, narrative isn't real time. Our experience of time isn't real time. Five minutes could be too soon to say everything you need to say or it could be the most agonizing amount of time to hold your breathe.

You probably skip over time naturally. You don't write a character's every errand nor their every thought. The only time the camera touches down on a character is when it's narratively relevant.

To decide when a scene is important, establish what information you need to know in order to fulfill the plot.

If you have a character you want to show as both in love with Girl and bad at school. You can have a character walking out the school, textbooks heavy in hand, who suddenly bumps into Girl.

Then use a transitional sentence to show the audience that we are done. "Well, at least there's one good thing about school".

[starstriix]

Jo's dynamics with other characters are all usually fun and engaging due to her being such an entertaining and adaptable character herself; but they can honestly be so much more interesting if people explored them a bit more?

For example, take Jo and Lightning. They have a hilarious dynamic with Jo having to deal with Lightning's stupidity and learning to manipulate his self-centeredness to her advantage. Except one thing I don't see explored enough is their similarities??

They're both overconfident athletes who are willing to do bad shit in order to win. It makes me think that Jo might’ve had a similar upbringing to him where she had to deal with the pressure of winning? Like, a cut-throat attitude doesn't just develop out of nowhere. Except whilst I think Lightning's ego developed from being constantly praised (and eventually pressured with having to live up to others' expectations), Jo might’ve been constantly belittled and underestimated (for yknow, being a girl) and she would've had to work hard to achieve recognition from others. Episode 6 pretty much confirms that she uses a false bravado and anger to cover up feelings of insecurity. I just think their possibly similar yet different upbringings and perspectives would be cool to explore.

Jo and Zoey is one of my favourite duos! They definitely should've become friends; I think they would've been a fun dynamic, and gen 2 could've used a proper female friendship. I think them both having the "Not like other girls" aspect is quite interesting?? As well as them both initially lacking actual friendships (with Zoey's lonely childhood, and Jo's... Just Jo) which is. Pretty common amongst the gen 2 girls. Huh

Zoey could've been a MUCH more interesting character (I always just use the cool epic version of her I have inside my head). Let her be weirdddd or let her be super basic and intentionally pose as "indie" to seem cool and different. Maybe she looks down on other "basic" girls to cover up how she feels insecure around them for being weird and having unconventional interests herself idk. I think the dynamic of both Zoey and Jo hating on pretty, popular girls and overcoming that is super neat. Especially since they're both something that the other hates; Zoey is a typically feminine girl and Jo is a jockette. Let them become friends and be like "okay well you aren't so bad" and then eventually stop judging other girls for being "feminine" or "basic" pleaseeeee it'd be so good. Even better: let ALL the revenge girls be friends. I just want them to be happy OKAY? Okay.

Finally, Jo and Cameron! Another duo I'm fond of. Awesome brains/brawns combination, and the whole arc of Cam standing up to her and Jo respecting him for it is absolutely peak. Jo's elimination in roti was pretty much perfect, but I also think she could've worked well in the finale. Her being a combination of brains and brawns would have encouraged Cameron to use both, which would be a neat callback to Jo's earlier line of needing to get physical in TD. (Still think she should've rooted for Cameron over the guy who insisted that she was a dude for most of the season but whatever)

I haven't really seen this take on their dynamic, but the whole thing of Cameron's development being stunted from the over-protective environment of his upbringing and Jo being toughened by the harsh environment of hers adds a fascinating layer to their relationship. Whereas Cameron was prevented from being able to properly grow up and experience things like normal teens, Jo grew up way too soon and put more focus into winning than making positive relationships and allowing herself to just be a teenage girl (I personally believe Jo got the """tough love""" treatment). Idk I just think this would be cool to delve into and see how their opposite childhoods impacted them and their core values when interacting with each other

Cameron clearly saw her as both a role model and an opponent, which is a really fun dynamic! She was a bully, yeah, but she also presented herself as someone who was always in control and knew what she was doing, so it's understandable that Cam looked up to her. She was pretty much the opposite of overprotective too, which is probably what drew Cam to her since she didn't coddle him (and instead made fun of him LMAO). And of course, Jo learned to not underestimate the tiny nerds and gave her respect in the end. Super fun and intriguing duo, and probably the only td pair I would actually compare to siblings.

So yeah basically I think we should start looking into TD relationship dynamics more because they're awesome and filled with potential. Especially Jo's because she is the best ever and if you think otherwise then you're wrong

Also have a gold star if you just read through all of that ⭐️ great work soldier

[stevesworld96]

look at me now (part one)

--- steve harrington x fem!reader

childhood friends to strangers to lovers. this is a more realistic look at developing a relationship with steve, set in canon while you know nothing about the monsters, or the nightmares, or all of his scars.

a fic about knowing steve before, during, and after the events of the upside down. including all the ways your friendship with him grows, wilts, then grows again - to blossom into something he probably doesn’t deserve. 

tags: fem reader, no use of y/n, childhood friends, typical king steve meanness, yes there is an allusion to steve being icarus, kissing, fighting and making up, cliches, a lot of emotions, depression and suffering etc, reader has an aunt, mentions of death and injuries, codependent steve and robin, steve is so so so so so so so sad. hawkins doesn't get destroyed after the vecna fight - everything else follows canon

please read both parts, i worked so hard on this fic and i'm really proud of it :)

part two!!!

word count: 14878

-

You knew Steve Harrington better than you knew anybody. At least, you liked to think so. 

You were five when you moved to Hawkins into the house right next door to Steve’s, and as things go when you’re a kid, that automatically made you best friends. At that age you didn’t have to try to be friends with somebody - as long as they lived nearby and had a bike, that sealed the deal. 

He was only knee high to his mother, hiding behind her legs when she brought him over to introduce themselves. “We’re the Harrington's,” she said, then with a tight laugh, “minus one - my husband. This is our son. Steve - say hi, Stevie.” 

He didn’t. Your mothers started a polite conversation and your eyes darted between the tall woman and her son. She was dressed like she had somewhere important to be, with red lipstick painted on her lips and pearls hung around her neck. She was pretty. 

Her son didn’t stand with the same pride she had - he was peeking at you, tugging the hem of his mother’s dress and looking down at his feet. You could hardly get a good look at him, and he didn’t even wave back at you. His haircut was prim and proper; the button up shirt he wore was swallowing him.

They came inside for lemonade, and you led Steve into your living room, and by the end of the hour you had instantly become friends, bonding over your toy car collection that Steve loved. 

You were kids - of course things were so easy. 

To see him, all you had to do was walk over to his front door and knock, and you could spend as much time together as you wanted. Or just wait until his parents needed a babysitter - after they learned how much you and Steve loved spending time together, they started to drop him off at your house and you’d have sleepovers for days. 

It was when Mr. Harrington had gotten a big promotion that they’d leave Steve with your family nearly once a week. 

“I’m sorry, Stevie, I know me and Dad haven’t been home much lately. But next month isn’t as busy for us,” his mom would tell him. 

“It’s okay, Mom,” he’d reply. “Don’t worry, I like staying here, so I’m alright.” 

At your age you didn’t see the irony in a seven year old telling his mother that things were okay - shouldn’t it be the other way around? - but those apologies from his mother wouldn’t last very long. And the promises she always made were never kept. Soon enough, she stopped making them altogether. 

Sometimes he’d just show up at your door, and your parents didn’t have to ask questions because they already knew more than you did, and you didn’t understand that he was more comfortable in your bedroom than in his own. 

The routine of your friendship felt like the foundation of your life. Everything you did was with Steve by your side, like you were tied together with an invisible string that couldn’t be broken. Snacks after school were a must; movie nights every other weekend were your safe haven. The last day of school every year you camped out in his backyard under the stars and then woke up early for a big breakfast and a day spent at the arcade. Even as you got older, those things stayed the same. 

You had busier schedules to work around in high school but you still made it work. After-school lunch turned into midnight snacks, and you moved from the arcade to the lake, but you were still intertwined with child-like joy and ease. 

Steve’s other friends were another story. Tommy H was a thorn in your side that you couldn’t pick out, but Steve didn’t get why you hated him so much. At first, you didn’t get it either - you just did.  

Until one day early in your junior year, Tommy H gave you a good enough reason for your disposition. 

Like always, Steve was waiting for you outside of your last class of the day, and you were just about to turn the corner when you heard Tommy’s loud, boisterous, annoying voice. 

“Steve, my boy, what’cha standing around here for?” 

Steve laughed, even though Tommy had said nothing funny. 

“Waiting on your favorite girl so I can get outta here - what’s up, dude?” 

“Come on,” Tommy said, dragging the words out. “We got shit to do, ditch her and let’s get a roll on, if you catch my drift.” 

You could see his stupid face in your head as he spoke - you just wanted him to go away so you could leave. But you’d wait there forever if it meant you didn’t have to have a conversation with him. 

You were hardly paying any mind to their words. 

“Can’t, dude, I’m her ride home. Tomorrow though, for sure.” 

“She’s holding you back, man.” 

But that caught your attention. They were both laughing even though, again, no one had said anything funny. 

“Y’think so?” 

“She even put out?” 

Your eyes rolled so far back to your head they could’ve gotten stuck. 

“It’s not like that with her.” 

“Oh, that’s not what Kimmy thinks.” 

“What? What do you mean - did she say something?” 

You knew Kimmy to be the new flavor of the week, Steve’s new eye candy. It’d be someone new in a matter of days - and this was one brand new trait of his you were struggling to overlook. 

“Just saying, most of the chicks think you’re taken by Miss Bitch -” 

You call Tommy H a dickhead to his face one time and he gives you a nickname that sticks for three years. 

“- and that’s why you’re not getting any action, dude. Gotta shake off the fleas, man.” 

And then Steve laughed. Loud.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to do. You hoped he would defend you even a little bit, but he didn’t. He just laughed, and said, “I’ll think about it, man,” as if he was in on this joke, and then Tommy left. 

And you didn’t know how you felt. 

It’s not like Steve said it. But he had no problem listening to Tommy H talk about you that way. He thought it was funny. 

Or, he was just saving face - did that make a difference?

You knew Tommy’s words were complete bullshit, and you didn’t care about him enough to let it affect you. Maybe Steve felt the same - maybe he just went along with it because it was easier. 

You hoped so, because that’s what you chose to do. You brushed it off and walked out of the room and acted as if nothing happened. 

“Hey - about time.” 

You didn’t reply; he continued talking as you walked together. 

“You hungry?” 

“Thought you were coming over,” you said. “Told you I wanted to build a blanket fort. Remember?” 

He huffed out a scoff, “A blanket fort? Are you six?” The glare you gave him made him reel his judgment back in. “Fine. Let’s go.” 

…

As soon as basketball season was over and you had your weekends back to yourself, you were ready to get through your watch list of movies as quickly as possible. You’d never tell Steve that cheering for him at his games was your least favorite part of your friendship with him - you would always keep that selfishness to yourself. 

And if you weren’t so wrapped up in your own mind, lost in planning your movie night, you may have been able to see your next conversation with Steve coming. 

“There she is, been lookin’ all over for you.” 

A heavy arm slung around your shoulders as you walked down the school hall. You didn’t have to question who it was. 

“What do you want, Steve?” 

“Just want to see my best friend in the whole world, is there something wrong with that?” 

You rolled your eyes. Obviously he’s up to something. 

“I’m going to choose to ignore you,” you said, shaking off his arm and stopping at your locker. His back fell into the metal next to you. 

“What’s up?” he asked, and he was trying too hard to be inconspicuous, but you ignored it. 

“Nothing. Oh, I think I finally have a cookie recipe we’ll like. Mrs. Jenkins gave it to me but she made me swear I wouldn’t share her secrets. Gonna pick up the stuff after school - have you picked your movie yet?” 

Then his eyes widened, a bit too much to look genuine. “Oh, shit, is that tonight?” 

“It’s Friday, isn’t it?” 

“I completely forgot about that, shit. I made other plans without thinking.” 

“Well, cancel them,” you said with a straight face. 

“Well… what if you join in on my plans instead?” 

You closed your locker and didn’t even consider entertaining Steve’s idea. “My mom’s already planning to make dinner for you. Are you ready to face her wrath?” 

“Well - no,” he said. “It’s just - y’know, I was supposed to see Nancy tonight, and…” 

“Oh, I get it, you wanna cancel so you can get laid. Is that it?” 

“No, Christ - I’ll be there, alright? But next time, I’m getting my way.” 

 You laughed at him, and the bell rang and ended your conversation. 

You didn’t think the night would go any differently than your normal hangouts. Maybe if you were expecting it, the disappointment wouldn’t have stung so bad. 

He called you early. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey -”

“Hey, have you picked up the movies yet? I forgot to get popcorn, so…” 

“No, I haven’t. Listen, um…” There was static on the line for a moment before he continued. “Sorry, but - can we - are you sure we can’t reschedule? Like, tomorrow night?” 

You groaned, you were annoyed. But even when he argued with you, Steve never ditched your valued traditions - he may act bothered sometimes, but he would always come around. Even if he did gripe about it being childish the entire time.  

That’s what you thought this would be. 

“No, Steve, I have book club and tutoring and dinner with my aunt tomorrow. You know this.” 

“Right. I guess I forgot about that. Okay, well…” 

“...Well?” 

Once again, he was quiet, and you weren’t sure if he was hesitating because he didn’t know what to say, or because he was nervous. 

“Well - I think it’d be really fun if we hung out at my place tonight!” 

“I guess I can bring all the ingredients for the cookies over. You do have a nicer oven…” you said.

“No, like, you can come over with everyone else I invited and we could -” 

“I thought you canceled that?” 

“I was going to, but… Tommy wouldn’t take no for an answer! And we already got the booze, and Nance finally said yes and - and I’d be really happy if you were here too!” 

“...Okay.”

“Okay…?”

You thought for a moment, then decided to ask him the question you were asking yourself. 

“Would you be happy if I was there, or would you be happy if I’m not mad at you for canceling?” 

“Uh - either one.” 

“Right.” 

That answer was good enough for you, even though it wasn’t the one you wanted. You weren’t getting anything you wanted that night, and you weren’t going to fight for it with someone who already had their mind made up. 

“Then have fun,” you said. 

“Really? We can cancel?” 

The excitement in his voice caused an angry laugh. “Yeah. Bye.” And you hung up. 

And you made your cookies, and you watched the movies you already had on tape, and you didn’t miss the popcorn but you wished you had Steve’s lap to put your feet on - and it was fine. 

You were sure he was having fun. And maybe he didn’t care at all about your canceled plans - because he was too busy with people who didn’t like you, doing something more exciting than what the two of you did as kids. 

It was selfish to be angry. Maybe it was wrong. But you let it boil over anyway. 

… 

You didn’t talk to him for a week after that. Because you didn’t want to, and you wanted to teach him a lesson, and you hoped it would make him sorry. 

Maybe you were being immature, but at this point, you were committed. 

You were afraid that you were setting the wrong example - that, maybe, he thought you were angry about him making his own plans, when the problem was how he’d canceled yours so last minute. Or perhaps it was both. But now you had dragged it out too long and you were stuck giving Steve the cold shoulder until he finally caved in and apologized. 

That’s all you wanted, really: an apology. And a bribe or two, just to get the most out of this argument. That’s how things usually went: you give him the silent treatment and he shows up at your door with your favorite snacks and a new book, and things would go back to normal. 

But not this time. 

You’d managed to bike to school without being caught by Steve all week, but you’d underestimated him waiting for you at the bike racks at the end of the day on Thursday. 

He stood with his arms crossed and his brows drawn together. The moment you saw him you stopped in your tracks, like if you stayed still he wouldn’t see you, but his gaze was locked on. It didn’t look kind. 

So you prepared yourself for this fight. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, but his tone said something different - it said, I’m sick of your shit. 

“What are you doing?” 

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, “Just wondering how long you’re going to keep dragging this out.” 

You kept darting around his words and moved to get your bike as if he’d let you leave so easily. “I’m not dragging anything out. Don’t know what you mean.” 

His arms flung out to his sides as his voice raised, “You’re acting like a fucking kid!”

And your volume matched his, “You hurt my feelings!” 

“Well - grow up!” 

The short silence that followed felt heavy, but he didn’t let it sit for long. 

“I mean - come on - I ditch you one time and all of a sudden we’re not friends anymore? Really?” 

“A sorry would be nice, Steve.” 

“I’ve said sorry.” Both of you knew that he hadn’t, but it didn’t matter now. “But sorry isn’t enough, is it? You’re just mad that I have new friends. Because I don’t want to just - sit around and fucking - watch movies in your living room like we’re kids -” 

“Like we’re kids,” you said, laughing. “Yeah - right, because that’s really what this is about, isn’t it, Steve?” 

He looked confused, and you didn’t give him the chance to speak. 

“Because I’m holding you back. Right? Tommy H said it so it must be true. I’m a bitch and I’m keeping you down and you need to shake me off if you ever want to get any action - that’s what it is. Just say it, Steve.” 

“Where is this coming from?” He ran a hand through his hair and his voice sounded desperate, but you weren’t sure what for. Maybe to salvage the remnants of a wounded friendship, to turn this conversation around. But your anger wouldn’t let him. 

“You know where it’s coming from. I heard it, Steve, and you - you agreed with him! I’m your best friend but you can’t even defend me to your shitty fucking friends - so just say it! You’re the one who doesn’t want me around -” 

“That’s not what happened -” 

You were so angry, and he was lying, and Steve never lied to you, and he’d filled you with so much venom that you couldn’t help spitting it out as you stepped closer to him. “It is. And you’re turning it on me when you’re the shitty friend. Stop lying to me and just say it.” 

“Yeah, maybe that is what it is - and I was just too fucking stupid to see it before now. That you’re so fucking clingy I can’t even have one night with a girl without you getting jealous. He was right. Is that what you wanted to hear?” 

“Yeah, it was,” and you pulled your bike free and your foot hit the kickstand so hard that it hurt, and you told yourself the pain was the reason tears were flooding your eyes. 

“Maybe I’m better off without you - have you ever thought about that? Is that your fucking problem?”

“Whatever! I don’t care anymore! You never have to watch another fucking movie with me again, alright? We won’t go to the arcade or build stupid fucking blanket forts or any of the other childish shit you hate so much!”

“Good - fucking - good!” 

“And I hope you have fun playing King, and I hope when all your friends turn on you and Nancy dumps your ass - because you’re an asshole - that I’m the last person you run to for help, and I hope your dad is real fucking proud of you, because you’re turning out to be just fucking like him.” 

It all fell out like you were pushing rocks off of a cliff - fast and angry and hard. You knew what those words would do to him. You knew you were hurting his feelings more than he had ever hurt yours - that you were putting the knife in too deep to pull out. You knew and you said it anyway, because you were mad and he was being a dick and lashing out felt good. Especially when you could hop on your bike and ride away from him, fast enough to avoid watching the blood pooling at his feet. 

The worst part is that you were being honest. 

Steve stood there alone and didn’t even turn to watch you ride away. He felt like hitting something, or screaming until his lungs were empty and tired. 

And he didn’t even have time for any of this. He was finally making decisions for himself, for once, and who were you to get mad at him for that? He was popular, he had a girlfriend who was actually into him, his parents had finally gotten off his back. Things were going fantastic for him and he wasn’t going to let you mess it up because you were… jealous, or selfish, or whatever it was - Steve didn’t care. 

He wasn’t going to lose sleep over you refusing to grow up and give him space. He was on top of the world, and you were trying to tear him down. 

He didn’t need you, anyway. 

… 

Months passed.

And, like you had put a hex on him, all of your words came true - and then some. It didn’t take very long for things to crumble around him, and Steve almost thought it was funny how quickly his wings had melted to send him hurling into the ground. 

No matter how hard he tried patching the holes, everyone knows you can’t fly with wings made of wax.

The fall hurt. But it was what came after that brought the real pain - a stinging, striking ache that was impossible to ignore. It felt like he was the last person on earth and he deserved it; like he shouldn’t be allowed to be around other people because he was no good.

And every time he tried putting the pieces back together, things only got more broken - all starting at Jonathan Byers’ front door. 

What could get worse than fighting a monster from an alternate dimension? 

Or fucking things up with your girlfriend beyond repair? 

Or fighting those monsters again? 

He learned quickly to stop asking stupid questions like those. 

And he learned that he couldn’t just close his eyes and wish it away. He couldn’t run when things got scary; he couldn’t lash out when someone was honest with him; he couldn’t sneak out of his window and into yours when the yelling got too loud. He was forced to face everything he ever hid from, cursed to have regrets and keep them. 

At least he wasn’t completely alone - the company of nerdy kid genius Dustin Henderson brought most of these lessons on. And in a normal situation Steve wouldn’t recommend learning anything from a kid in junior high, but he was living anything but a normal life. He’d take friends wherever he could get them, especially during senior year. 

Maybe he wanted to set a good example for the kids that suddenly came into his life. Maybe he wanted to prove to himself that he wasn’t his father - that he could do good things without getting something out of it. Or maybe, most likely, he just did it. 

He wanted to feel like a superhero, wanted to look in the mirror and feel proud of what stared back at him. But he didn’t, because he wasn’t. He wasn’t brave or heroic or gallant - he was no Clark Kent. And everything he did was because he had to. Because who else would? 

Sometimes he felt like only someone as careless as him would fight a man-eating creature with nothing but a baseball bat - because out of everyone he knew, he had the least to lose. Why bother making safe decisions when most days he didn’t even want to get out of bed? What was he risking when he’d already bet it all and lost? 

And who would be proud of that?

But there were moments, in the time between the fall and the fight, that he could almost see it. Like a flicker of light passing by he’d see Max smiling at him, hear Dustin’s excited laughter, feel a heavy high five from Lucas and he’d think - oh. Right there, standing in front of him, were the people he had to lose. The ones he was trying to win for. 

And then he’d lay in bed at night and get stuck in another sleepless round of self loathing; hatred fueled by every cruel word he’d spit and all the selfish acts he’d taken, and fuck, he was spinning and suffocating and screaming, and maybe he deserved this. 

It didn’t matter that he knew how to swing a fucking bat good enough to win more time for the ones he loved, because he wouldn’t love them right, anyway. And he’d turned the best person he’d ever known into nothing more than a crumpled piece of paper on his floor - something to be tossed aside and forgotten. And even if he tried smoothing it out, those creases would always be there. 

Sometimes he stared out his window and watched yours. Waited for your light to turn off so he could look away and stop wondering what you were doing and how your life was without him in it. 

All he wanted was to see you again. He’d beg for that movie night he ditched on junior year. He wanted to grab you by your shoulders and show you that he’s better now, he’s changed, those last words you told him weren’t applicable anymore and everything can just go back to how it was. 

But nothing was ever that easy, was it?

He was glad when graduation finally came around, until he was forced into a sailor’s uniform with an ice cream scoop on his belt like a gun in a holster. 

It was one way to spend the summer. It got him out of the house he hated staying in, and put a little money in his pocket, so slinging ice cream at Scoop’s Ahoy was good enough for him. 

It distracted him from the vague nightmares he kept having and the fact that he got into a total of zero universities, and the free ice cream counted as dinner on his bad days. And he was fine with his obnoxious co-worker and annoying customers. 

He was just fine. 

But it was Hawkins. Nothing could stay fine there - not after a little girl with super powers opened a portal to an alternate fucking dimension and turned the town into a magnet for every fucked up thing imaginable. 

Steve thought it was over, and then Dustin had him and Robin translating the Russian words he heard over his radio, and they were all pulled back in. 

He wasn’t expecting to fall into the Russian lair under Starcourt Mall, to trauma bond with Robin - of all people - or to get any closer to dying than he already had, but he stopped betting on his expectations a long time ago. 

By the time he saw the night sky again, he couldn’t remember how many punches he’d been thrown.

His head throbbed to the beat of his heart. It felt like if he tapped his temple, his eye would pop right out. His work uniform was ruined, stained with blood and spit, but the smoke billowing from Starcourt ensured that he wouldn't be needing it anymore. 

The events of the night felt like they were years away. All he remembered was running, screaming, crying; he remembered the fist coming toward his face but not the impact. He woke up to pain, and then it was gone - more running and bleeding and fighting and then, it was over. 

Robin sat next to him, shivering, on the back of an ambulance. The lights from the siren were blinding, the noise around him was punching his ear drums. 

“Are we alive?” Robin asked. Her voice was totally shot. 

“Think so.” 

“I want to lay down so bad.” 

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Do you have someone to call?” 

She sighed deep. “Not really.” She let it be quiet for only a second, then said, “I don’t really want to go home. To be honest.” 

“You wanna spend the night here?” 

“If I don’t have to be alone, then, yeah.” 

He sighed, too, then patted her knee. 

He said, “I’ll call someone, alright?” and she nodded. 

The payphone was a bit of a walk, and he had to wait behind two people in line, but it was enough time for him to muster up the courage to make the call. Even still, when he had the phone in his hand, all he could do was stare at it. 

He was trying to remember the exact words you said to him the last time he spoke to you. Something like, “I hope I’m the last one you call,” he was sure. It was hard to remember your phrasing now, but the memory still stung all the same. 

And he knows it’s not fair to call you, but he was going to anyway. Because in all honesty, you were the only option he had. 

Any other time, he’d rely on Hopper for a ride. But Hopper wasn’t around anymore. 

So he dialed your number and prayed you hadn’t changed it from the one he knew by heart. 

-

Your hand darted out of your blanket to reach your bedside telephone. The ringing killed your half asleep ears, and you hardly knew what you were doing when you put the receiver to your ear. 

“Hello?” 

You could barely get the word out; your voice was thick with sleep that was slowly creeping over you. 

“Hey. It’s Steve.” 

With your heavy eyes shut, sleep was pulling you back in. Your whole body jumped a little bit when you attempted to stay awake. 

“Steve?” 

“Yeah. I’m sorry for waking you up, but -” 

You didn’t know what was going on, and then you heard sirens on the phone. A jolt of anxiety seared through you at the sound. That’s what got you to wake up - then you realized who you were talking to. 

“Steve?”

“...Yeah.” 

“What - what’s wrong?” 

Your heart was pounding out of your chest as you sat up in bed, holding yourself up with one shaky arm. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, and you held your breath until he answered your question. “There was an, uh - accident at Starcourt, and - I don’t know who else to call. I’m sorry, I can’t drive right now and I don’t have anybody else.” 

“Are you okay?” 

“Barely.”

You didn’t give your answer a second thought. “I’ll be there in, like, five minutes, okay?” 

You could hear his breath of relief over the phone. “Okay. Thank you.” 

After stealing your mother’s car keys, you stuffed your bare feet into combat boots and ran to the car. Even though you still only had your learners permit, you absolutely floored it to the mall without a single thought in your mind. It was like you were on autopilot, simply doing what you were supposed to, because you were scared. 

You saw plumes of smoke before Starcourt ever came into view, and you swallowed through your dry throat because you knew something bad happened. 

You had to fight through crowds and cops before you were allowed to pass under the police tape to search for Steve, which wasn’t easy. Every face you saw wasn’t his and each second that passed dug a deeper pit in your stomach. 

The second-to-last ambulance in the lineup is where you found him, sitting next to a girl whose head was on his shoulder. 

And when you saw him… it wasn’t him. Your eyes glazed over him because he was hardly recognizable. 

You’d seen him beat up before. He’s had his fair share of fights at school; you wiped blood off his face and helped him nurse black eyes. But it was never like this. 

His left eye was swollen shut. Crimson stained from his eyebrow to his jawline. His skin was aggravated red, his clothes were blood rusted, his knuckles were ripped open. 

And still, somehow, his hair looked perfectly done. That sight alone made you want to laugh and cry at the same time, because of course he managed to keep its style untouched. It was so Steve. 

You ran to him; your legs carried you there on their own, shoelaces smacking against wet pavement. You weren’t thinking when you called out his name or when you flung your arms around his neck. You hugged him like it would heal him, like the scent of your perfume could cover the smoke he smelled of. 

It’d been almost a year since you’d talked to him, and the jagged edges of your ended friendship still cut deep, but you didn’t care. Not when he looked the way he did; not when he was hugging you so tight; not when your tears were dripping onto his skin. 

You pulled back and looked at him, and his wounds didn’t look any better up close. 

“Oh my god, Steve, are you okay? What the hell happened?” 

“I’m alright,” he said. He wouldn’t look at you, or couldn’t bring himself to. “I’m just glad you came. I’m sorry -” 

“Don’t,” you said, and then you looked around at the scene. “Have the paramedics even seen you? Why are you just sitting here?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I - I’m fine. They said I’m fine. They’re all busy with others but - I’m fine, don’t worry.” 

That’s when you noticed the girl next to him, who was looking at you like you were crazy, and you realized what you were potentially barging in on. 

They sat close - too close to be friendly. They were basically cuddling when you first saw them. It was obvious what they were, so of course she was looking at you that way.  

You didn’t mean to make her jealous, but a part of you didn’t care. 

“Are both of you okay?” 

“Yeah,” Steve said, answering for the two of them.  The girl nodded. “This is Robin, by the way.” 

You introduced yourself to her, trying to be cordial even though you were meeting in the worst of situations. 

“You two can stay at my place tonight, if you want to,” you told them. Steve asked Robin if she was okay with that, and she said yes, and so you led them to your car. 

You weren’t sure why you made the offer to Steve - you wanted him with you, sure. After seeing the condition he was in, you wouldn’t sleep unless you knew you were keeping him safe and sound in your own bedroom. 

Old habits die hard.

But, all things considered, you should have just taken him to his own home, where he could be with Robin in peace. Without cut ties lingering in the air like flies. 

You drove him home anyway. 

Nobody spoke until you got to your bedroom. 

“Do you need a shower?” 

“Yeah,” Steve said. Robin nodded. 

“Okay. Robin, you can take my bathroom. Steve can shower downstairs.” 

You dug through bottom drawers to find clothes for each of them - you still had the ones Steve kept stored there, as embarrassing as it was, so it wasn’t a difficult task. And you’d let Robin choose from your pajama drawer.

And then you got back into bed, because you didn’t know what else to do for them. 

Robin stood in the doorway of your bathroom, just staring into the room. When Steve opened your bedroom door, she snapped her head back to him. 

“Steve?” 

“Yeah?” 

She glanced over at you. You wanted to hide from the tension in the room. 

“I - I don’t know how to use this faucet.” 

He showed her how, and then made for the exit, but she called for him again. 

“I was just thinking - you know - if we both shower at the same time, won’t the water pressure be super low? And what if the hot water runs out before I’m done, and -” 

“I’ll be quick, Robs,” he said. “It’ll be fine.” 

Steve took one step into the hallway before stopping. The darkness looked like it went on forever. He didn’t remember your house being so unlit, or having so many hiding places, and suddenly his legs were shaky. 

“...You’re probably right, though. I’ll just wait out here until you’re done.” 

“Yeah. And I’ll keep the door cracked open, for… all the steam.” 

“That’s a good idea.” 

And he sat on the floor right outside of the bathroom door. When Robin was finished, they swapped places. As if they couldn’t be apart for longer than twenty minutes. 

You didn’t ask them any questions.

… 

The two of them slept on a pallet of old blankets on your bedroom floor. Robin made Steve sleep closest to the door. He tried not to be upset about it. 

And he didn’t think he’d be able to sleep, but it seemed to swallow him. He didn’t dream, or toss and turn, but he woke up unrested. 

Everything still hurt just as bad as it did the night before. And Robin’s snoring was making his headache worse. 

You were no longer in bed, so he decided to get up and find you. 

He wasn’t sure what kind of interaction he’d be walking into when he found you in the kitchen, but he tried to keep his head high. 

“Good morning,” he said. 

“Hey.” You had a mug in your hand. “Your eye looks better.” 

“It doesn’t feel any better,” he said, and he wanted to make a joke that it actually looks worse - because when he closes his right eye, everything’s blurry - but he held that one in. He wasn’t ready for a comedic coping mechanism quite yet. 

You put Tylenol on the island that separated the two of you. “Take them. I don’t know if it’ll help much, but it can’t hurt.” 

The bottle said to take two, so he took three. And then the awkward quiet started washing in. 

Until, “I saw what happened on the news,” and Steve almost coughed up the water he was chugging. 

“What are they saying?” he asked, because he didn’t know what story he was supposed to be playing along with. 

“Just talking about the fire,” you said. Your voice sounded so dim, and Steve hated it. “It’s… crazy. Hopper… he…” You couldn’t say the word. 

“I know,” Steve said. 

“And thirty others.” 

His throat felt dry. “Thirty?” 

Truly, he didn’t know that many people hadn’t survived. And now, it all felt real. Really real. 

“Yeah,” you replied. “I’m just glad - you were lucky to get out, Steve.” 

You had no clue how lucky he’d really been. And hopefully you would never have to know. 

“I know.” 

You sat your mug down, brushed your hands on your chest like you were trying to wipe off everything you knew of the accident, then blew out a loud breath. 

“Let’s just think about something else.” 

Almost at the same time as you, he spoke. “Thank you.” 

“...What for?” 

“For coming to my rescue,” he said, huffing a laugh. “I know that I… didn’t really deserve it.” 

“Don’t thank me, Steve.” 

“Seriously. You could’ve just told me to walk home, but you didn’t.” 

“I’m just being a good friend,” you said, then shrugged. “I hope you would do it for me.” 

“In a heartbeat.” 

He wondered if this was his chance to say sorry. 

Or if there was even a point in it. 

He was afraid you’d do no more than laugh in his face, and even if he deserved it he didn’t want to succumb to it. 

But he had to. Because he almost died last night. And he could be fighting those monsters again, any day now. Was he going to lose this chance? Or is he going to die without saying another word to you? 

He stared down at his ripped knuckles. The wounds still looked fresh. They stung just from touching the open air. 

He stared, and stared, and stared, and - he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t say a word. He couldn’t face it. 

Your footsteps toward him made him jump back. 

You were holding a box of band-aids. 

You held out your hand, asking for his without words, and he offered both of them to you. First his right, then his left, were covered in pink, green, and yellow band-aids by you. 

It was gentle and kind, the way you went about it. Like you would hurt him even more if you weren’t careful. 

He still had dried blood under his nails and splinters in his palms. He watched your clean hands holding his beaten up ones and he felt bad, because your skin was too soft to bother with the cuts and calluses on his. 

But you held them anyway. 

He put his fingers through yours and you didn’t stop him. He wanted to cry.

“I’m just glad you're alright.” 

He didn’t know what to say - there wasn’t anything to say, he guessed. Nothing to make it better or change anything. 

All he could do was squeeze your hand and watch you wipe tears off your cheeks. 

Until he noticed a cut on the back of your hand. He pulled it closer so he could get a better look. 

“What happened?” 

“I dropped a knife while I was cooking last night. It’s fine.” 

It looked fine, but Steve wanted to repay your favor, so he pulled a band-aid from the near empty box and put it on your wound. 

“We match,” he said. 

You laughed. “We’re even now.” 

He felt overwhelmed with melancholy. He needed to rest, he wanted to close his eyes and not open them for weeks. 

“I should go check on Robin,” he said as he walked backwards toward the stairs. He kept his eyes to the ground, away from the look on your face. “She’ll flip if she wakes up and she’s alone.” 

You said nothing. 

… 

The following days and weeks were a lot of checking on Robin, and Robin checking on him. Too much waking up in the middle of the night and keeping his eyes glued to his bedroom door just in case. Only feeling safe enough if he had a baseball bat hugged to his chest and Robin snoring next to him. 

So - he wasn’t doing well, but it was fine. He tried not to complain about it. Robin was the only person he let himself be half honest with - but he kept the truth to himself, because she’d get anxious if he said what he really felt. 

Steve was scared. And he didn’t want anyone else to know it, because all of the others acted as if their lives were perfectly back to normal. They were doing well. So he had to be doing well, too. For their sake. 

Weeks after that awful night at the mall, he and Robin conned their way into getting jobs at Family Video. He was grateful, because god, he was too codependent on her. 

It was a random night at his place when Robin brought you up out of nowhere. 

“I just realized, I never thanked your neighbor for saving us that night.” 

“You don’t need to. I’m sure she knows you’re thankful.” 

“Yeah, but, I feel like I should pay her back.” 

Steve shrugged at her words. He didn’t want to think about you more than he had to - it hurt just a little bit too much. 

“Should I give her a gift?” 

“I don’t know,” he mumbled. “She likes cookies. Get her cookies.” 

And Steve didn’t know it, but the next day, Robin rang your doorbell with a plastic box of cookies in her hands. You opened the door and she started rambling from the get. 

“Hey - Steve said you like cookies, so, I decided I’d bring you some to thank you. For showing up at Starcourt in the middle of the night and practically saving our lives. And for letting us sleep on your floor. That was really nice of you.” 

You didn’t know what to say. Robin seemed weird. You just went along with it. 

“Oh - thanks. That’s cool. Thanks.” 

She shoved them toward you, and you took them. 

“Do you want to come in?” you asked.

Instead of answering, she just stepped through the door. You brought her to the kitchen. 

“I hope they’re good. I just got them at the corner store. But all cookies are the same, right?” 

“Well - no, but, it’s the thought that counts.” 

“Oh.” 

The gifted cookies didn’t look much better than the worst recipes you’d made,  but you opened the crude packaging and gave them a chance. 

They were fine. Maybe a little worse than fine. You gave Robin one, anyway. 

“They’re good!” she said, with a mouth full. 

“They are,” you lied. “They’re not homemade, but they’ll do. Thanks, Robin.” 

You ate half of your cookie. Robin finished hers. It was quiet. 

You figured you might as well try to get to know this girl a bit better. At least be polite and make small talk, just to be nice. 

So you asked an easy question. “How long have you and Steve been together?” 

But it wasn’t as simple as you thought, because she started coughing up the cookie. “What do you mean?” 

“...What?” 

“We’re not together,” she said with a heavy dose of sass. “God, I’ll never get over people asking me that. I am not dating Steve Harrington. Gross.” 

“Oh - sorry, I just thought -” 

“It’s fine,” she said. “Everyone always asks. I guess a guy and a girl can’t be friends without everyone making assumptions.” 

You laughed. “Yeah. People used to do the same thing to us. Sorry, I didn’t mean to ask a weird question.” 

“It’s alright. Actually, I’m supposed to be at his place in, like - well, ten minutes ago. You should come over if you're free.” 

“Uh - I don’t know, me and Steve - we don’t really hang out anymore.” 

You aren’t sure why you didn’t just make up an excuse. Something about Robin made you feel okay about being honest. 

“It’s cool. I’m sure he’d be happy to see you. It’s kind of been just us since what happened with - the fire. The fire that happened. So - you know. It’d be nice to have someone else around. If you want.” 

You were curious how this would turn out. So, “sure. I’ll come.” 

“Great. You should bring a cookie for Steve.” 

You brought the whole box, and decided you would accidentally forget them at his place so they wouldn’t go to waste. 

Steve’s front door was yanked open from the inside before Robin could let herself in, and his wide eyes became a little less wide when he saw her. 

“Where the fuck were you - you were supposed to be here half an hour ago, I thought you got fucking eaten or something.” 

“Relax. I was just making a cookie delivery next door. Chill.” 

Robin threw her thumb over her shoulder. You poked your head out from behind her and gave Steve a weak wave.

“Oh.” 

“What exactly would she get eaten by?” 

“I don’t know,” Steve shrugged. You noticed he was gripping his car keys in a tight, scarred fist. 

“Monsters,” Robin joked. Steve didn’t laugh. You did a little bit. “I invited her over. Is that alright?” 

“Yeah. Of course.” 

You stuck to Robin all the way to his living room, because that was easier than making yourself comfortable. You hadn’t been in this house in ages, and you weren’t sure what to do with yourself. 

“Where’s my crossword?” 

“I finished it.” 

“Asshole. You know I hate that. Just get your own.” 

“Whatever, you suck at them, anyway.” 

Robin, unlike you, had no reservations in the Harrington house. She kicked her feet up and started channel surfing as soon as she sat on the couch. 

“Have a cookie,” Robin said to Steve. You reached the box out to him; he sat down next to you to take one, taking up the spot between you and Robin.  

It was weird being so close to him again. His knee was touching yours, and it made your skin feel too hot. Still, you didn’t move away. 

“These are shit,” he said with a full mouth. 

“Hey!” 

You laughed loud, because you completely agreed. 

“No, seriously, these are awful.” 

“I spent five dollars on those!” 

You gasped. “Five? Robin.” 

“You should have just given her the money instead. Or thrown it in the trash.” Steve dropped his half eaten cookie back in the box. You put the plastic lid back on and sat it on the coffee table. 

“I thought they were good. You’re being so rude right now. They were a gift.” 

Steve looked at you. “You didn’t tell her how bad they are?” 

“I didn’t - I don’t think they’re that bad.” 

“You’re lying,” Steve laughed, then he turned to Robin. “She’s lying.” 

“I’m not lying!” 

“I know you, and I know you’re lying.” 

“It’s fine, guys, you don’t have to spare my feelings or anything.” 

You sighed, defeated. “...They are pretty terrible.” 

Robin scoffed loud and obnoxious. 

“Whatever. I’ll enjoy them.” 

… 

As it turns out, Robin acted like glue between you and Steve. Neither of you would have ever made an effort to see each other again, out of embarrassment or guilt or both, but Robin didn’t have to unpack any of that baggage. She didn’t even know it existed. 

Instead, she immediately saw you as a friend. And she brought you in like she had known you forever. 

But Robin and Steve were a package deal. So, if you were a friend to her, you had to be a friend to him, too.

And the two of them were weird. Most of the time, they left you feeling like a third wheel on their friendship. 

They could be mean to each other. Rough. They acted the exact way you knew siblings do, but that was only surface level. There was something deeper - more than anything a brother and sister had, because it wasn’t the blood in their veins that connected them. It was the roots they chose to grow into each other that kept them together. 

Robin spent the night with Steve more often than she didn’t. And she bullied him for his bad cooking, and he told her when an outfit was ugly, and they stood next to each other like two puzzle pieces that didn’t match but fit together with a hard press. 

Sometimes you sat on the sidelines and ached, mourning a friendship that had been buried some odd years ago. It was well beyond rotten - something decayed and unrecognizable now. Even if you dug it up, it couldn’t be the same as it was. 

But you wished. 

And as you sat and listened to Robin chastise Steve for saying something dumb - watched as he meddled her hair into a purposeful mess, you could only laugh and sink into yourself. You were happy and sad; you cherished your time together and dreaded it, all at the same time. 

Above it all, Steve was different. Distant in the way he would never meet your eyes, or laugh too loud at your jokes, or sit too close for too long. 

It all felt fleeting. Like that week you spent angry at him - stuck in a weird limbo, between friends and strangers, a frustrating purgatory. Some kind of Schrodinger’s Cat of a friendship - alive and dead at the same time. 

You would have just said something, if it felt like you could. But if Steve minded, he didn’t show it. If he missed how things were, he didn’t act like it. And, as you knew him, if he wanted to he would. 

And it wasn’t totally bad. It was just new. You’d get used to it with a spoonful of sugar and a hard swallow. 

On a random day, you had mentioned off-hand that you had been meaning to visit your aunt’s apartment to drop off and pick up a few things. Steve offered to take you, and you agreed, and the next day, you made good on your plans. 

The two of you didn’t hang out without Robin very often. Since early August, the number was hardly a handful. But with the radio turned on, it wasn’t too awkward. 

Steve had visited your aunt with you several times growing up. He went to her house-warming party when she moved into her apartment. You were thirteen, and you made a game of pressing every button in the elevator before getting off it. Now, every time you’re there, you think about how you used to chase him down the halls. 

Her place was the nicest there was in Hawkins, in the tallest residential building in town. Parking was a nightmare, but Steve kept his complaints under his breath, and he even carried your bag for you. 

The elevator was the only thing in the apartment’s lobby. As you pressed the button, Steve spoke up. 

“You wanna take the stairs instead?” 

“Why?” 

He shrugged. You laughed. 

“You want to climb eight flights of stairs? No thanks.” 

“I’m an athlete,” he mumbled under his breath, sheepish. “This thing is taking forever, anyways.” 

It dinged as it finally started moving down toward the bottom floor.

“It’s on its way.” 

He stepped back, looked around, and he must have spotted the stairwell. “I’ll race you,” and then he took off. 

The elevator door opened as the stairway’s door closed, and you rode to the top floor alone. 

He didn’t win the race - far from it, and you laughed as he tried to hide his struggling breathing. 

“Been waiting for you all day, athlete. Thought you’d take ‘til Christmas.” 

“Psh. Whatever. I’ll win on the way down.”

The elevator creaked and hummed as it started moving down, and Steve glared at it. 

You laughed, “You’re weird,” and you left him behind to walk down the hall. 

He worked fast to catch up, and called out, “The loser pays for dinner!” 

“You know I’d never pass up that bet.” 

Your aunt wasn’t home - she rarely was. But a key was under the mat, and as you walked inside her tuxedo cat, Webster, greeted you at the door. 

“Hey, dude,” Steve said, kneeling down to pet him. 

An old cardboard box sat on the dining table nearby, “Glassware” written on the side in crude permanent marker. It’s what you had been instructed to pick up and take back home - you weren’t sure what was inside.

You sat down and opened it and pulled out the first thing you saw: a white paper bag, one you knew printed photos came in. 

“This what you came for?” 

Steve stood next to you. He had Webster in his arms, who was purring loud and melting into his hand. 

“Yeah.” 

“What is it?” 

“I don’t know. Family stuff, I’m guessing.” You pulled out a fat stack of pictures and the one on top made you bark a laugh. “Oh my god.” 

You and Steve, seven years old, wearing matching cowboy costumes for Halloween - you with a white cowboy hat, him with a black one. You stood with a jack-o-lantern between you. You had your hands on your hips and a frown on your face; Steve had his chin pushed out in a wicked scowl. 

You turned it to him, and he laughed just as loud as you. “Look at those two mean mugs!” 

“Do you remember this?” 

He sat in the chair next to you, continuing to look at the photo over your shoulder. Webster made himself comfortable in his lap. 

“Yeah,” he laughed, “We fought all night because you stole my -”

“Oh my god.”

“You stole my full size Snickers.”

“I did not!” 

“You did.” 

“I didn’t!” 

The way he looked at you told you this was still a sore subject. 

“You went ahead of me to the Smith’s place while I was trying to tie my shoe and you took her last bar. That’s what happened!” 

“That’s not stealing!” 

“It is!”

“I didn’t mean to leave you behind! It’s not my fault you didn’t know how to tie your shoes!” 

“You didn’t, either. And, I learned before you.” 

You puffed a sigh and flipped the photo to the back of the stack. “Why are you still fighting over this? We shared all the candy, anyway.” 

“It’s the principle. Theft is a crime, and you never apologized.” 

You only laughed. No way were you giving him that apology now. 

When you pulled the photos out of the box, you didn’t intend on looking through them all, but your curiosity kept you flicking through them. Most were of random family members or photos of the beach, but pictures of you and Steve were littered throughout the stack. There wasn’t a single photo of you that didn’t have him in it, too.

There were from some first days of school, birthday parties, sleepovers. They were sorted somewhat chronologically - looking through them was pure nostalgia, memories hitting you at every angle as you watched yourself grow up. 

The next one to catch your eye was from a middle school dance. Neither of you wanted to attend, but your mother insisted. Your one condition was that you could wear whatever you wanted. 

So you and Steve had swapped styles. You wore his way oversized Atlanta Flames jersey, a baseball cap, and sneakers that didn’t fit; he had on your purple sweater, a big pearl necklace, and white jeans. 

It was cute, and it was goofy, and you wished you could jump into the picture and relive it. 

At that age, the only thing you knew was that you and Steve would live forever, together. Now that you know what you know, your heart ached for the little girl in these pictures. What would she think about the space between you two now? 

There were pictures from summer camp, swimming pools, and your first day of high school. 

Webster meowed. Steve meowed back at him. 

As you got to the bottom of the stack, pictures of the two of you were less and less. The last one - the one you didn’t know would be your last picture with him - was of you, him, and a few of your extended family members. A day spent at the lake that Steve really didn’t want to go to, for some reason only an angsty teenage boy could understand, that you dragged him to. It was the summer before your junior year.

In the photo, his arm was draped completely over your shoulder. You remembered him leaning all of his weight on you - to the point that you fell out of your seat after the picture was taken by your aunt.

And you had fun, like you always did. Steve became a member of your family out of happenstance. It was just because he was always around, really. They all saw him as much as they saw you. 

You put that photo to the back of the stack and kept carding through them. You didn’t find any more pictures of you and Steve. 

The rest were all more recent. Steve stopped you on one that was of you alone - sat at a dinner table, wearing a cable knit sweater. 

“That’s a good one,” he said. 

“Yeah. It’s from Christmas. Senior year, maybe.” 

You acted like you weren’t sure, but you knew exactly when that photo was taken. You just didn’t want him to know how sad you were in it. 

“Oh, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” and you laughed, “this was not a fun party.” He didn’t reply, and so you kept talking, sparing him a shy glance. “Everyone kept asking where you were.” 

The silence was heavier this time. 

“Oh,” he said, trying to bury it. “Yeah.” An awkward chuckle. “I bet that was annoying.” 

You laughed and tried to make it sound real - tried to seem like you didn’t care. “Yeah, well, you know how my family always liked you better.” 

He shrugged, looking like he was going to make a joke, but he didn’t. His eyes were distant as they moved down to his lap. 

You shoved the picture to the back with the rest. 

The one behind it was just as lonely. 

Still, Steve perked up at it. “Is that from graduation?” 

You wore a cap and gown, you held a bouquet of flowers, and you stood all alone. 

“Yeah.” 

Steve’s hand wrapped around yours holding the picture, and he tilted it toward him so he could get a better look. 

“My aunt kept trying to get me to find you for a picture,” you laughed. 

“You should’ve.” He smiled something big and real, and you realized with a rush that this is the closest you’d been to him in a while. If you kept looking, you could count the freckles on his cheek. His thumb pressed into the back of your hand. “I remember seeing you. You looked real cute.” 

You ignored his compliment to say something snide. “I ignored you so hard.” 

Another laugh, “Really?” 

“Obviously.” 

“Yeah. That’s fair - I would’ve, too.” 

You tried not to think about how badly you wished he was standing next to you in the picture. 

Steve spoke up, “I -” but you cut him off by accident. 

“It’s fine.” 

You didn’t mean it. He could tell.

“...Is it?” 

It was honest when you replied, “I don’t know.” 

He was still holding your hand. 

“I never told you I’m sorry.” 

“I guess I just figured you were.” 

You dropped the pictures on the table, dropping his hand with them.

“Is that good enough?” It was an honest question. 

“I don’t know. Maybe it is.” 

And your answer was genuine, because you didn’t know. Steve had come back into your life just as easily as he left it - on a whim, without any warning. You didn’t put any roadblocks in his way. 

But you stared at the photos spread out in front of you. At the story they told of your friendship that would always be unfinished. 

You had to teach yourself how to do life without him. All of those lessons seemed useless, now, because here he was. And you didn’t even know if he ever missed you. 

You pulled away from him, a move that was far more snappy than you meant. You did it like he’d reached out and burned you. It had Webster jumping down to the floor. 

“It’s fine,” you repeated. 

“I think you’re lying just to make me feel better.” 

“I don’t know why I’m lying.” 

“We don’t have to talk about it now,” he mumbled, and you stood up. The chair scraped the floor in a way that grated your ears. You turned your back to him. 

“I thought I knew you.” Your eyes welled up, your nose started to run. You balled your hands up like you were on defense. “I thought you would say sorry, and make everything go back to normal like you always did. But you didn’t. I thought you would miss me, at least, but - but you didn’t.” 

“You think I didn’t miss you?” 

The shake in his voice had your fist dropping to hit your thighs, defeated. 

“I miss you more than anything. I’m sorry - I’m not just saying it to make you feel better, or because I have to, I - I don’t even deserve to be saying it.” He paused, and you could imagine the way he was running his hands through his hair and pacing around with nerves. “I’m sorry for being a bad friend. For not treating you like you deserved - I hate myself for it. You were the best thing in my life, and I know that now. I was just too scared to come crawling back to you because I wasn’t worth your time.”

You breathed in deep, exhaled hard, and it felt like the first breath you had taken in two years. It was that feeling when you’ve forgotten your keys but find the door unlocked - the relief of being let in despite a mistake, it rushed through you, and it had you turning to look at him. You found him standing and staring at you, through you, with glassy eyes you would always know. 

“I just miss you, Steve.” 

Three steps and then he was around you. And you were safer than a child hiding under their blanket from whatever lurked in their closet - monsters weren’t real if his arms were around you. That had always, always been true. 

Webster rubbed up against your leg, then Steve’s. The hug shook with both of your laughter, and he held you tighter. 

… 

Things didn’t go back to how they used to be after that, but it was close enough. And you were trying to settle into the differences that kept knocking you off your feet. 

It started with late night phone calls. 

Before, you never talked on the phone. Why would you when his house was a stone throw away? If you wanted to talk, you’d invite yourself to his place. 

But the two of you were still dancing on the ripped edges of that two year old fight. Wounds were still healing - almost there, but not quite. So it was easier to take it slow, to treat this time as something brand new. 

And it was brand new. 

You had caught yourself grinning ear to ear over stories he’d tell you, and you had to force the smile off your face. Like you shouldn’t be acting that way over your friend - you quickly realized you just couldn’t help it. 

He’d keep you up too late and tease you for it the next day. And you weren’t sure if he was trying to get a rise out of you, but that’s how you felt. He acted so smug after seeing your cheeks swell in embarrassment. 

So it wasn’t going back to how it was before. In fact, it was going down an entirely different road - one that wasn’t even on the map. 

You weren’t complaining, because you felt things you hadn't felt before around him. He made you feel warm, and you were addicted to it. You were addicted to him, and you had blind hope that the feeling was mutual. 

He’d spend his entire lunch break visiting you, even if your breaks didn’t line up. He’d follow you around the apparel section at Roses and you’d have all your attention on him, just the way he liked it. He made sure to see you every day.

You never thought he’d make you feel so shy, but it was an emotion you couldn’t get enough of. You hardly realized what you were spiraling into until you’d catch him looking at you with a blush on his cheeks, or until you had to stop yourself from thinking about him every night before bed. 

But there was something glaring, something major, something you couldn’t look at directly until it came up in conversation with Robin. 

Robin and Steve always had Sundays off, so the day was designated to be stolen by their other friends - who were all in junior high. 

When you asked why they were friends with junior high kids, Steve called himself their babysitter. Robin said she was their good influence. You avoided asking follow up questions. 

It was a lazy autumn day, one where the warmth of fallen leaves reflected in the air - something rare for early November. 

The youngest of the kids, Erica, loved putting on a nice outfit and going for a walk. Today it was yellow Chucks, a red silk and pleated maxi skirt, and a long sleeve button up with a rainbow of vertical stripes. (It would have been a tie dyed short sleeve, if Steve hadn’t told her it was too chilly for it.) She had stuck gems beside her eyes, the kind that come in the plastic packets and don’t stay on for long, and Robin packed yellow eyeshadow on her eyelids. 

She was downright cute, but if you told the eleven year old that she’d aim her sass at you and shoot to kill. She much preferred receiving a refined compliment, because, “I hear that all the time.” 

Today, you told her you loved the way she paired so many colors together. She grinned something beautiful and kicked her foot up behind her and agreed with you. 

Steve had once described her as a menace - you didn’t understand why. 

You walked with Robin a few feet behind Erica, Dustin, and Steve. Dustin had not stopped talking the whole time, except when Erica butted in. Steve had stolen the younger boy’s thinking cap hat and was wearing it backwards. 

“The last time I wore this coat, I found two phone numbers in the pocket.” Robin held up two fingers and gestured to the Letterman jacket she wore. It was Steve’s. “Can you believe that? I mean, what a douche. I wouldn’t even wear this if it wasn’t so warm.” 

You laughed. “Yeah, I believe it, actually. They were probably from some cheerleaders or something.”

“Yeah, well, he can’t get any numbers these days. He’s cursed to be forever lame as punishment for the jerk he was in high school.” Robin was smirking wicked and wide, like it was satisfying for her. 

“He’s lost all his charm?” 

“All of it. I mean, one hundred percent. I used to keep count of how many times he fell on his face in front of girls. It’s magnificent, truly.” Then, quieter, “He’ll get it back, though. One day.” 

“He used to have no trouble at all.” The conversation had the gears in your head turning; it had you speaking without thinking. “I don’t know. He’s really different now.” 

Robin laughed, like you were joking. “Yeah, he learned manners, for one.” 

“It’s not that.” You were thinking out loud. “He’s nicer, yeah, but… it’s almost like he’s not even the same person. I’m not sure what happened.” 

The Steve you knew was boisterous. He was unapologetic. He was stupidly confident, the life of the party, and he wasn’t afraid of anything. A wouldn’t take no for an answer, go with the flow, drop of the hat kind of person. 

You were lucky to know him when that’s all he was. Before the halls of Hawkins High swallowed him and spit out someone ornery who cared too much but not at all. 

You thought it was just Tommy and Carol’s influence. Now that he wasn’t their friend anymore, you thought he’d become who he used to be. 

“He told me how close you two were before,” Robin said. She was tugging on a strand of hair that was stuck in her lip gloss. “I guess I never knew him like you did.” 

“He’s so quiet now. He used to be so loud.” You meant it more than literally - you hoped Robin would understand. “I don’t know. So much changed and it’s only been a couple years.” 

It seemed like she was struggling to reply, because it took her more than a few seconds to get her words out. 

“I guess - I mean - I think you’ve probably changed a lot, too. Two years is a long time, right?” 

Robin knew. No one could tell, but she knew. 

Maybe the differences that you had described of Steve were really there. She wasn’t able to see them the way you could, but she didn’t care. It was selfish to admit that she would never change a thing about him - but one. 

He was waiting. 

Everyone was, she thinks. 

Waiting for another fight. 

It wasn’t easy to go back to normal after trudging through hell. It was like coming out the other side of trench warfare unharmed - you didn’t. When a gun fires, its bullets hit. If a bomb is dropped it doesn’t miss a fucking thing, and Starcourt Mall was goddamn ground zero. 

And Robin wasn’t there for the disappearance of Will Byers. The death of Barbra Holland. The Upside Down. The Demogorgon. The Demodogs, and the lab, and the girl with psychic powers. She wasn’t there, but Steve was. 

Her head hurt just thinking of the stories he’s told her. And she knew his did, too, more often than he’d admit to her.

And she felt bad when her sleeping patterns went back to normal but his didn’t. When she got used to being on edge all the time, Steve still jumped at any noise. His phone would ring and she would watch him prepare himself to answer it - to hear Dustin’s voice on the line telling him that it’s back. 

So when you said that Steve’s changed, Robin didn’t know what to tell you. You were right, and she knew that, but she couldn’t tell you why. You knew everything about him besides, well - everything. 

Robin wished she didn’t have to know, either. She wanted to tell you that you should be grateful you couldn’t see the shackles on his ankles. You got to know him before - and Robin would give anything for that. 

But she couldn’t change a thing. 

Instead, all she could do was wait. 

And lie. 

And pretend. 

“He’s still loud,” she said, uncomfortable as all get out. 

As if he heard her words, Steve busted out in a stomach hurting kind of laughter at one of Dustin’s stories. 

“See what I mean?” 

Your destination was in sight now. Steve turned around - letting Dustin steal his hat back - walking backwards, and reached a hand out to you. 

“You coming?” 

Your pace turned into a skipping sort of jog to catch up with him. When you were close enough he grabbed your hand and didn’t let go. He’d been doing that often. 

The kids and Robin broke away, heading for the tiny park that was up on your right. To your left, Steve tugged you to a tiny convenience store.

“Place your orders!” he called. 

Dustin and Erica shouted at the same time. Steve mumbled something about not being able to understand them, so you relayed their messages. 

“You’re getting two things! No more than that!” he shouted back. “Robin?”

“7-Up.”

“What else?” 

“Surprise me!” 

You hung onto his arm as you walked into the store, and you weren’t even sure why. He never pulled away when you got that close, so you kept going back. 

You went for the drink coolers first. He reached for the apple juice. 

“She likes orange juice the best, now,” you said. 

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” 

“You better be right - if she’s mad at me over this, I’ll be mad at you.” 

You rounded up all the snacks everyone wanted, following Steve’s only two items rule. You laughed when he chose plain potato chips as Robin’s surprise - the blandest possible choice. And while he checked out at the counter, you wandered off into the aisles. 

He acted like he didn’t want you to go, pulling you back and asking a quiet, “where’re you going?” 

“To look around.” 

It was straight to the candy aisle for a Blow Pop for Erica, Pop Rocks for Dustin, and sour gummy worms to share. You liked spoiling them - it helped to get on their good side. 

You made a stop at the candy bars to grab a Snickers bar before going back to the counter, and Steve immediately shook his head when he saw you. 

“What are you doing? What’s all that?” 

“It’s all for me.” You dropped it all for the clerk to scan. 

“All of it?” 

“Yeah.”

“Even though you said you didn’t want anything?” 

“I changed my mind!” 

He sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, and you watched his hand move to his back pocket. 

“Don’t you dare.” 

His wallet was half way out of his pocket as he laughed. “What?” 

“You’re not paying. Stop.” You tried to sound mad, and felt you were doing a good job, but he kept giggling at you. 

“Oh, are you my boss now?” 

“Yes, Steve,” and you bumped into him, trying to push him away. “Don’t make me say your full name.” 

“Just let me -” 

“Take their things to them! Go!” 

You were shocked when he listened, but he only made it as far as the door. He stood against the glass with his arms crossed, staring at you until you finally followed him. 

“What are you looking at?” 

He pushed his back into the door to open it. “Trying to figure it out.” He reached for your hand, and you swatted it away, only for him to catch you, anyway. And you let him hold your hand, all the way across the street to the park. 

Your friends sat at a picnic table waiting patiently. It was actually two tables pushed together, doubling the normal length; Erica and Dustin sat opposite each other on one end, and Robin sat in the middle, crisscrossed on top of the table. 

Steve divvied snacks to grabby hands, and you snuck their surprise treats in to the sound of thank yous. 

You took your seat on the other end of the table across from Steve. When you sat down, he put a bottle of Coke between you. 

“Are you going to share?” you asked. 

“Only if you’ve got something to give me in return.” 

The Snickers bar made a thud on the wooden table. Steve hummed. “I guess that’s good enough.” 

You were almost happy with the trade until you realized, “No bottle opener?” 

His eyes doubled their size. “Shit.” Then, he grabbed the bottle. “No, it's a twist off.” The noise he made as he tried taking off the cap was something like a squeak, and everyone at the table laughed. 

“Just walk back to the store!” 

“Dustin - Dustin! Do you -” 

The boy slid a large key ring down the table. It was a wad of keys, keychains, and gadgets. 

“It’s on there somewhere.” 

There was a mini flashlight, a laser pointer, a plastic Q*bert charm, a pocket knife, keys and keys and keys, a kubaton, and, “Yes!” a bottle opener. 

“This is why I keep you around, Henderson.” 

“I’m the one keeping you guys around, first of all.” 

You grabbed the Coke and guzzled a couple drinks worth in one go, and when you put it back down, Steve had already eaten half the candy bar in one bite. 

“Steve!” 

His mouth was full when he said, “What?” 

“Why can’t you share? Why didn’t anyone ever teach you about sharing?” His laugh was sweeter than the chocolate he was shoving into your face. “Stop, I don’t wanna eat after you.” 

“We’ve got the same germs,” he said, and he was feeding you the Snickers before you could make another argument. 

The snacks were all gone much quicker than it took to walk and get them, because none of you would ever learn to savor the destination. Regardless, next Sunday, you’d all be sitting in the same spot - give or take a few others, creating a good day for yourselves. 

And, if you were lucky, Steve would be holding your hand the whole time. 

...

It didn’t matter who you were cheering for on the court, you hated high school basketball games. 

Going to Lucas’s game brought back far too many memories than you’d care to recollect. But even though you hated it, you were still filled with pride watching the boy play the game so well. 

And Steve hadn’t shut up about it all night. He spoke about Lucas shooting the buzzer beating winning basket like he was recounting a grand story - something from a movie or a comic book. Like you weren’t sitting beside him the entire time. 

You stood with him in his kitchen, and the excitement had finally started to settle. You and Steve had spent far too long talking about how weird it was to be back in the high school gym, and both of you agreed that you didn’t miss it at all. 

“Is Robin excited for spring break?” 

Steve rolled his eyes. “She said she’s spending the entire week here so she can be as lazy as she wants, so - I guess she is.” 

You threw a weak fist into his shoulder and he caught it. “What’s wrong with that?” 

“She’s gonna steal all my time!” His grin was contagious as he slotted his fingers into yours. “And that means I can’t steal all of yours.” 

“Does that mean I’m finally getting a break from you?” You laughed, but he didn’t. 

It was weird, the way his entire demeanor changed in a snap. Before you could even take back the joke you made he was shifting his eyes and dropping his grin. 

He had always worn his heart on his sleeve, even if he tried hiding it. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Yeah.” It was a hand through his hair that said the opposite, but you’d never call out his tells. “I just - that reminded me there was actually something I wanted to talk to you about.” He dropped your hand to cross his arms, and it had you feeling nervous.

“What about? …Did I do something wrong?” 

“No, honey.” You weren’t sure when that nickname came around, or when it started to stick, but it had a fairy fluttering its wings in your chest. He started to reach for you again, you could see it, but he stopped himself. “You could never do anything wrong.” 

You laughed quiet. “Neither could you.” 

You moved to stand next to him, mirroring the way his back leaned against the counter. Your arm pressed to his. He was looking at the floor; you were looking at him. 

“Are you sure?” It started as a whisper but jumped into a shake, a crack in his voice that said more than he wanted to. And he looked at you, to see if you caught it, and you swore his eyes were shining. He didn’t show them to you for longer than a moment. 

“Steve?”

“I just - I don’t want to fuck this up again.” 

“How would that even happen?” 

He looked at you like he knew something you didn’t. “I don’t know.” 

You nudged his arm with your elbow, again and again, until his crossed arms dropped. Your pointer finger snaked around his, and the touch brought enough bravery out of him to link his fingers with yours. 

“What do you know?”

He scoffed into a smile, one big enough to reach his eyes, and it brought him out of his funk. “I don’t know,” he said, moving closer to you as he made the joke. 

“That’s what I thought,” you replied. “Not a thought going on in your head.” 

Making him laugh was the key to his heart - you knew that, and it worked this time as well as it always had. 

He had his head turned, cheek to shoulder, staring down at you; you were so close, you could watch his eyes move across your face and know where he was looking. They wandered, but when his gaze lingered on your lips - you noticed. 

“I know one thing for sure,” he said.

When you took a loud breath, you’re sure he heard. He gave you eye contact again, and maybe you were seeing things, but you swore you saw question marks swimming in the green. 

He didn’t breathe. You didn’t blink. You moved forward just a hair, and he looked back down, so you pressed on. You wanted to be closer, as close as you could get - it was curiosity or desperation, you didn’t know. 

When he tilted his chin toward you, it was hardly noticeable. But you saw it, and it was enough. Your nose was just about to touch his - you watched his eyes close, right before yours did. There was nothing to do but move closer, closer, closer. 

And then, when you felt just the softest graze of his skin on yours - 

BAM! BAM! BAM!

You jumped back from each other like same-side magnets, gasping and jumping at the sound of loud knocks on the front door. 

He moved fast, like he was looking for a way out, leaving you alone in the kitchen. “Shit.”

Steve had a good idea of who he’d see when he opened the door. The knob was jingling when he unlocked it, then pulled it open. 

Sure enough, Robin. Wearing a flannel that was his, with wild bedhead that he couldn’t help laughing at. 

“Did you walk here?” 

“Yeah,” she croaked. “Let me in.” 

It was written all over her face why she was there, and Steve felt bad. 

Even though she asked to come in, she didn’t move. Her features were all scrunched up, her shoulders were hunched into her crossed arms. 

“Robin -” 

“I fucking hate this.” Loud, echoing into the night and through his door. “I hate it, Steve, and I swear - I swear it’s not over.” Her eyes wet her cheeks; she looked at him through tears. “It’s going to happen again. I can feel it. And I’m scared.” 

He had to pull her inside, because he knew she’d stand in the same spot all night if he didn’t. She pushed into him, shoving her face into his shoulder, wiping her tears on his shirt. 

“You just need to rest,” he told her.

She spoke something pitiful, not caring that her words were muffled. “The gate’s really closed, right? For sure?” 

“It’s over, Robin, it was just a nightmare - you just need some good sleep, alright?” 

She nodded, wiped her runny nose into her sleeve, and tried pulling her tears back in. 

“I wish I could sleep anywhere else.” 

“I know.” It wasn’t any sort of jab - it was just the truth. The only time she was truly afraid was when she slept alone. 

She hit a fist into his chest, something playful that made things feel a little more okay, and then took herself to the stairs. 

“I’ll be up in a minute to stand guard,” he joked. She barely laughed but it was enough, and he watched her until he couldn’t see her anymore. 

And he hoped you hadn’t heard anything, because he wouldn’t be able to answer any questions you had. When he found you in the kitchen you looked nothing but concerned. 

“Is she okay?” 

All you knew was that she had nightmares about the mall fire. It was a realistic excuse, in comparison to the unbelievable truth. 

“Yeah. You know how she is.” 

You nodded. Steve wasn’t sure how to go back to the talk you were having before, so he avoided it. 

You spoke first. “I hope she’s alright.”

“I should probably go be with her,” he said. 

You were perfectly okay with it, understanding as always. “Yeah. She needs you.” 

He walked you to the door, and it was too brief for his taste. But when you were there, he spoke up. 

“I’m sorry. Can we finish this tomorrow, maybe? I promise - I… I really did want to talk.” 

“Of course,” you said, and it was shy. “Don’t be sorry, Steve, she’s more important right now. We can talk any time.” 

His arms wrapped around your shoulders for a crushing hug. “I’ll call you in the morning, okay? Before work. We can make plans then.” 

And that was it - he watched you make your walk home until you walked into your front door, and that was it. 

The moment was ruined, and he might not be able to make it happen again. 

… 

Steve didn’t call you the next morning. 

-

-

-

part two!!!!

[axelsagewrites]

Hey, could I request a love triangle with both Theon and Jon set in modern days? Fratboy!Theon (he's unsufurable and such dork! I can so imagine reader disliking him but he's cute when he wants to!) and Emo!Jon (he just gives off emo boy energy!!). Lots of teasing and rivalry (maybe? But definitely not needed) and maybe f!reader hooking up with both but separately.

Jon Snow/Theon Greyjoy*Hook ups

Pairing: jon x reader, theon x reader, past!jon x Ygritte

Word count: 3980

Warnings: secret hooking up, multiple partners, p in v sex, f! receiving oral, hickeys, praise, slight sub jon, cocky theon, smut 18+

Masterlist here

when you left for college, you were determined to break out of your shell. the first day was of course the toughest but luckily for you the dark-haired quiet kid beside you seemed equally on edge. you and Jon formed an instant friendship in freshman English and soon managed to develop a proper friendship group.

Jons half-brother Robb was also a freshman, so he was an obvious addition to the group. plus, you managed to make friends with a girl called Ygritte in your Ancient Histories class and whenever you all hung out, she would bring her friend Tormund along. the five of you were a close group all throughout freshman year and Jon and Ygritte even started dating at the end of freshman year.

you refused to admit to any of them that you were secretly a tiny bit completely and utterly jealous. you managed to keep your feelings at bay over the summer break but when you came back in your second year it was hard not to get angry seeing how happy they were. you knew it was neither of their faults, but you tried to keep it at bay and took the opportunity to expand your friendship group.

this was easy enough by tagging along wherever Robb went. he was such a sweetheart despite being such a party animal. he had been nicknamed across campus as the young wolf because of his string of girlfriends who all seemed to thank him when they got dumped. he was oddly charismatic when you thought of him, and Jon being related.

Jon was far shyer than Robb with his head often in a book or jotting lyrics and poems down in a notebook. he never left his dorm without headphones and majority of his music was all pre 2005 emo kid bangers. don’t get me wrong, you loved his music, but it was an acquired taste for sure. Ygritte however hadn’t acquired it, so it made it all the more frustrating for you when she never listened to the sweet songs, he sent her.

but you refused to let it keep you down so here you were at a Blackfyre Frat party standing with Robb who was introducing you to yet another friend of his. As he was telling Danerys that you were also into Taylor Swift you felt an arm suddenly grab over your shoulder and your neck snapped to the side to see its owner.

He had his other arm wrapped over Robbs shoulder and a beer bottle in hand, “and this is Theon,” Robb laughed as you shrugged him off as he kissed Robbs cheek, “aka a pain in my ass,”

“Thought you liked when I was in your ass,” Theon gasped as he finally removed himself from the young wolf. at times you had questioned if Robb was bi but now did not seem the time to ask as Theon held his hand out for you to shake, “And who do I owe the pleasure?”

you shook his hand lightly, trying your best not to grimace at the beer stench on his breath. you told him your name and quickly took your hand back, “I think im gonna get a drink,” you said, your eyes shooting to Dany who decided she also needed one. thank god for girls you thought.

“Cmon princess I don’t bite,” Theon joked but waved you and Dany off to slip into the crowds.

“He’s something alright,” you joked as you filled your cup with extra strong-smelling punch.

Dany laughed as she refilled her own drink, “He’s not as bad as he seems,” she said making your eyebrows scrunch in shock, “Nah seriously. its just this impression he puts on, I guess. I don’t really get it but alone he’s far more chill,”

“Please don’t leave me alone with him,” you said as you attempted to drink what tasted like straight vodka, “I don’t need him spilling beer down me,” you joked as you and Dany re-entered the crowd of people to dance.

you found your eyes wondering over to Theon a few times in the night. any time he caught you he sent a cheeky wink, and you rolled your eyes before turning to blush. maybe it was the alcohol or whatever issues high school had left you with, but Theon was kind of hot.

not in the Jon mysterious sensitive way but in the cocky I don’t give a fuck way. he was wearing his fraternity t-shirt which after Robb spilled his drink down revealed a surprisingly well toned body underneath. Dany seemed to notice your glances as she winked at you before demanding Robb and Theon come dance.

as Theon walked over you decided fuck it. Jon was taken and you were a woman with needs and even if he was a bit annoying Theon wad fit as fuck. you didn’t protest when they joined you to dance or run away when Theon would bump into you or spin you around the dance floor despite the music defiantly not being the spinning sort.

however eventually it was all becoming a bit too loud and a bit too fast. that plus the vodka was getting to you so without much warning you decided to duck out the dance floor and make your way to the kitchen where you stumbled upon Joffrey Lannister practically on top of Margaery Tyrell. you dipped your head as you headed for the back door and decided to just chill on the back steps for a few.

“You good bro?” you heard Theon’s concerned voice, but you didn’t need to turn as he moved to sit beside you on the step. he tried to hand you a cup, but you just looked at him in silent questioning, “Just water. promise,” he said reaching out his pinkie for you to link with your own.

you laughed as you made a pinkie promise with a near stranger before taking the cup, “Thanks man,” you said before almost downing the cup, “Sorry it just felt like really loud all of a sudden,”

“That’s cool,” Theon shrugged with a genuine smile that made your own lips curl up, “I just wanted to make sure nothing had happened. I know things like this aren’t always the easiest but its good you came,” he said as he knocked his knee into yours, “Even if you’re a terrible dancer,” he teased making you laugh and tease him right back.

you ended up sitting out there for the next hour before Dany eventually found you, wondering if you’d died or something. this was now your queue to leave since even Robb was too far gone to continue this night. “I’m gonna go get him into my bed then ill be back down to walk yous two home,” Theon said as Robb was slumped over his shoulder.

“Oh, you don’t have to- “you tried to say.

Theon cut you off, “Don’t worry love I’ll be two tics,” he said before he started to take Robb up the stairs, “Cmon buddy use those feet of yours,” you heard him mumble as you and Dany laughed at the state of Robb.

“See told you he’s not that bad,” she said, nudging you with her elbow.

you rolled your eyes at the blonde as you finished your drink, “Yeah, yeah. we’ll see,” and see you did. Theon had asked for your insta when you got to the dorms and somewhat shockingly to you didn’t try make a pass at you before he left. maybe he wasn’t that bad after all?

“Ugh that guy,” Jon groaned as you walked to class together, “I hate when Robb brings him round, he’s just so weird,”

“Some would say the same thing about you my goth little friend,” you said, poking at his arm making him swat it away.

“Not a goth,” he said, grabbing your hand to stop your attacks which for a moment almost made you blush, “Besides he always calls me an emo,” he said making you look at him like he said 2 + 2 = 5, “I’m not an emo. I just happen to have perfect taste,” all you did was snort as you finally reached English and took your seats.

for the month or so you spent a surprising amount of time dm-ing Theon. it started with him sending a couple memes to you having long conversations deep into the night about complete random topics. you also started actually going to parties once or twice a week with Theon and Robb much to Jons protest.

every time you told him he was welcome to come but he refused. instead, he would tell you all the reasons Theon annoyed him, and you could do better. it was ironic your old crush telling you to move on. the best thing was that you could finally see him and Ygritte around without wanting to vomit all over the place.

however, in a strange turn of events it was as soon as you got over Jon, or at least you thought, that he and Ygritte started having issues. Jon always refused to tell you what it was they fought about but you knew something was off. by now though you hung around with Dany, Theon, and Robb more than Ygritte, so you didn’t want to push. you and Jon still hung out as well of course but it was almost as if he was starting to ice you out.

you had talked to Theon about this on multiple occasions with him telling you that he was just being overly emo about things. you always defended Jon, but it was nice to know you weren’t crazy. then one night you got a text from Jon.

-she dumped me

this led to you and Jon locking yourself away in his dorm for a week as you helped him get over the breakup then a week of you dragging Jon out the dorms to see sunlight. you insisted he go out and enjoyed himself after allowing him to wallow for a time and soon a new friendship group was born.

you, Robb, Theon, Jon, and Dany hung out together at least three times a week, often all going to frat parties or drunken nights out. yes, even Jon would tag along to these parties, and you could tell he was enjoying it deep down. however, no matter what the two boys were always nipping at the other heels.

Theon would make fun of Jons clothes then Jon would quip back at his hair. when Jon poked fun at Theon’s grades Theon would make fun of Jons music taste. it was funny at times, frustrating at others, but overall, this was the most social Jon had been in months, so you weren’t going to complain.

something you hadn’t told Jon though, and had insisted that Theon couldn’t tell him either, was that you had secretly been hooking up with the Greyjoy without any of your friends knowing. he would text you late at night or you’d snap him when you were stressed. yes yes, the classic booty call things, you knew you were a cliché. but gods the sex was good.

you’d gotten a text from Theon that night and it didn’t take you long to get to his frat and sneak in through the backdoor. you slipped into Theon’s rooms unnoticed but as the door shut behind you you felt Theon press his chest into yours, “What took so long doll?” he grinned, his lips moving to kiss your jaw.

you laughed at the boy as your fingers travelled up to his hair, “Please you like when I keep you waiting,” you teased as you tugged lightly on his hair. you felt his lips move further down your neck, kissing softly at first but soon you felt him sucking gently on your skin, “You better not leave a mark,” you groaned, hating how you enjoyed it.

“I’ll think about it princess,” Theon said as his arms wrapped around your waist before tugging you over to the bed and pushing you down onto his sheets. he grabbed his collar, pulling his shirt over his head in a routine you had both practised down to perfection as you slipped your own top off.

Theon crawled over your body, his hands groping at your thighs and hips as his lips kissed the valley of your breasts. you moaned lightly as you felt him squeeze your hips and his hard on pressing into your thigh. “Now who’s making me wait,” you teased as you pulled Theon’s face up to yours, latching your lips together.

you knew each other’s rhythms, what they liked and where, his tongue slipped in with ease as your hands gripped his shoulders. meanwhile his were trailing up your body, squeezing your tits as he settled his legs between yours, grinding into you. you had of course changed into a cute little skirt when you saw the text so as your legs wrapped around his hips it left little to the imagination.

Theon hand slipped between your bodies, unbuttoning his jeans with ease and slipping them and his boxers off without even breaking your lips. you moaned lightly when his fingers rubbed your clit over your panties and your kiss grew deeper when he began to push them to the side. Theon only broke the kiss to quickly slip a condom on, something you had always insisted on and he had never complained about.

you felt him line his tip up with your hole, pushing it in slowly at first, “You like that?” he mumbled against your lips with that cocky smirk. god it shouldn’t be that hot to be a prick. your legs tightened around his waist, pushing Theon deeper in which he gladly complied as he sunk his length fully in, “Fuck,” he groaned, his thrusts attempting to set a steady pace.

his hand found your clit again, rubbing circles over it as your hands scratched gently down his back making him shiver. Theon’s lips fell from yours, moving to gently kiss down your jaw and neck before his head fell into your shoulder, his breathing growing heavy as you knew he was close to the edge.

with a final thrust you felt his body tighten for a moment before sinking into yours. you paused for a moment, letting Theon catch his breath. he pulled away for a moment, discarding the condom and kneeling over your thighs before he looked back down at you with a cocky grin, “Your turn now,” he said, and you laughed as he made his way down south.

by the end of the night, you were both hot and sweaty and both in a pair of Theon’s sweatpants. you were able to slip out and back to yours for a quick change of clothes before class the next morning though Jon shot you a questioning look when you had to practically run to class.

as the lecturer droned on and on you saw your phone light up and when you looked you saw a text from Jon. you unlocked your phone under the table, glancing over to see Jon was doing the same, as you opened the message.

-u wanna do something tonight?

-ye sure. want me to text everyone else?

you sent back and when you glanced at Jon you saw a faint blush on his cheeks. a few moments later another message came.

-was thinking it could be a just us thing. like old times

you didn’t even realise you were smiling when you saw the message, but Jon did. and gods did it make his legs go weak especially when you text back.

-great idea. movie night?

-only if u don’t hog the snacks

-no promises

after a long day of classes, a movie night was just what you needed especially since you knew it wasn’t hard to get Jon to let you pick the movie. when you arrived at his dorm, he was setting up a projector his dad had got him and you noticed his roommate, Tormund was out. “Did you kick Tormund to the curb for me?” you joked when you walked in through the open door.

Jon grinned as he stopped fiddling with his laptop cables and the projector lit up the room, “He didn’t mind,” he said as he took the bag of snacks out of your hand, adding them to the pile he had set up on his bed. “You ready for the ultimate movie experience?”

“Always,” you grinned as you jumped down onto his bed, kicking off your shoes and making yourself comfy. you didn’t catch the way Jon smiled at you as he watched this or how when he shut the door, he locked it also.

Jon flicked off the lights before returning to the bed, sitting beside you as he brought up Netflix on his laptop. before you could even start your spiel about how legally blonde the best film was and why you just had to watch it, he was handing you the laptop. you’d thought your crush had died but when you felt his fingers brush yours as you took the laptop you were grateful for the dimmed lighting to hide your blush.

Jon watched the movie without complaint, which honestly shocked you, especially when he even offered you some of his pringles. now that was odd. you were so into the movie you didn’t even realise you were leaning onto his shoulder till you felt his arm move to rest around your waist. when you glanced at Jon he cleared his throat, a blush spreading across his cheeks making you smile before you turned your attention back to Elle strutting her stuff.

by the end credits your body was fully rested against Jons, your snacks were gone, and his head was leant on top of yours. “See, told you it was a masterpiece,” you teased.

Jon chuckled lightly as you moved your head off his shoulder, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move his arm, “It was something alright,”

“Theres a second one,”

“Eh I think one movie was enough for tonight,” Jon said as he closed Netflix with his spare hand. the room was still pretty dark but the light from the projector lit it up just enough to notice the cute smile toying on his lips.

“So whatcha wanna do then?” you said, moving to face him without realising how close your faces were, “You can’t kick me out already. its only nine,” you said but Jon didn’t say anything back.

you just smiled, waiting for him to say something and wondering if you had accidentally broken the boy somehow when Jon suddenly leaned forward. he kissed you. like actually kissed you. on the mouth. it only lasted for a second and you were too stunned to react as he pulled back, “I’m sorry- “Jon tried to say, moving his arm but you cut him off by grabbing his jaw lightly making him face you.

Jon grew silent again as you studied his face for a moment before leaning in. this kiss was far softer than before and this time Jon didn’t run away. his lips moved against yours gently at first, almost as if you were made of glass, but with added courage now Jon grew bolder, his hand squeezing your waist gently.

you took your queue, if not maybe surprising Jon a little, as you moved to straddle his lap. however, it only took a moment for him to catch up as his hands moved to rest gently on your hips. “You can touch me you know,” you mumbled into the kiss, “I won’t break,” you teased as your own hands trailed down his chest.

much to your surprise since he always wore baggy black clothes, but you could feel how toned he was through his shirt. you couldn’t resist slipping your hands under his t-shirt, gently tracing your hands up his skin making him shiver.

you were breathless, pulling away for air but Jon wasn’t done. his lips soon fell to your neck, kissing down your skin gently as his fingers traced the hem of your waistband of your sweats. you moaned lightly when you felt him sucking soft hickeys across your collarbones but this time you didn’t mind the marks.

Jon seemed encouraged by your noises as his hands slipped under the fabric of your sweats as you felt his groan against your skin when he realised you were wearing something lacy. you bit your lip gently as he trailed hickeys down your chest, his hands squeezing your hips and ass. you decided to be bolder, if that was possible, and grind down onto his lap.

you could fell his boner through the fabric and heard Jons soft moans as you continued your movements. “Please,” he moaned against your skin, “I want you,” he begged.

“All you had to do was ask,” you teased as you pried yourself from his grip. the way Jon watched with awe as you stripped your t-shirt off made you want him ever more. “Take that off,” you said, pointing to his own top to which he happily complied.

you turned away for a moment, slipping your sweats down your legs to give Jon a proper show since he was determined to enjoy it. you heard him curse under his breath as you kicked away the fabric and when you turned around, he was finally tugging his jeans off leaving him in just his boxers. “Fuck,” Jon mumbled, his eyes glued to your frame for several moments before finally flickering to your eyes, “You’re perfect,”

you giggled a little, so unlike yourself, as you leaned down to kiss Jon again. it was slow and deep with your hands in his hair. you expected to be the one leading things, but Jons hand found its way to your hips and soon you were laying on the bed under neath Jon who was trailing open mouth kisses down your body, praising it all the way down.

your breathing hitched when he pressed a kiss to your clothed clit, your hand instinctually reaching for his hair as he slid your panties down your legs. within moments he was kissing your cunt soft as he moved your legs over his shoulders. you moaned when you felt his tongue against your clit, applying more and more pressure as he went till, he found your sweet spot.

you didn’t care how loud your moan was when you felt his fingers teasing your hole. you bit your lip as he slowly slipped them in, stretching you out before he began to gently curl his fingers. you could feel your orgasm already approaching as Jon began to suck on your clit gently making your legs instinctively wrap around his head.

it only seemed to spur him on more and it wasn’t long till you felt your orgasm threatening to spill. “Don’t stop,” you whined, your hand gripping his hair for dear life, “Fuck,” you gasped as your body tightened and your orgasm crashed down like a tsunami.

you could feel your legs twitch, but Jon wasn’t stopping. his seemingly magic tongue kept going till he was sure you were fully finished and when he pulled away, his face wet with your juices, he placed a soft kiss to your thigh. “You are amazing,” he said, kissing up your body with each word.

you were panting for air but still wanting more and Jon had no intentions of stopping there. by the end of the night, you had come five times, weren’t sure if you’d ever walk again, and you were both naked and sweaty under his sheets. you didn’t know how you’d explain these hickeys to Theon next time you saw him but god where they worth it.

Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics

[bibibbon]

My main problem with class 1a and izuku relationship by the end is that it's far too realistic for a superhero story.

Like yes in real life after college or high-school you lose touch with ppl you used to see everyday and it's not bc your a bad friend it's just kinda how the world works. You start a career and a family and get busy and only check up on highshool buddies every now and then but a fictional superpower story shouldn't end like that at all. I mean mha is one of the most "power of friendship" themed stories I've ever scene it's not gonna hurt anybody to make so that they miraculously kept in touch and met up constantly over the years (this is if we pretend that this was the only problem with ending 😅)

When someone asks for a realistic story it doesn't mean I need every character to got the bathroom every couples of hours and trip over themselves unless it's there for a reason. Realistic stories means set up and pay off like for example if your gonna kill a character it'd be realistic to have ppl react to it (cough twices death shouldve impacted more than just Toga cough). What I'm trying to say is that the ending is awful and mha is the defention of wasted potential.

(this rant went a very weird direction and I'm not sure if it makes sense)

Hi @jettanasser 👋

The term realistic can be used as a good and bad thing like you said for a story that has the core theme of WE are the greatest hero and the power of love and friendship that was supposed to carry the last act from the ending of the vigilante arc to the big final fight ending the story with them not meeting eachother as often leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

Yes this is realistic but 1A never actually develops a proper found family bond which is why I find the last act so underwhelming because there is no substance to 1A and their bond. Also the way the final chapter ended begs a lot of questions why didn't we ever see 1A members hang out outside of school uniform or hero costume? If there are less villains then why is there more work? Like yes I understand that a lot of heroics isn't just taking down villains but also reforming society but even with that MHA did go to make a point that this is now a society where heroes have free time did it not?

[random-thot-generator]

Going Down?

Capt. John Price x Fem Reader

Summary: You live down the hall in 14-C. Captain John Price lives in 14-G. A friendly relationship has developed over the course of a year, though the attraction you both feel for one another is becoming very hard to ignore. Then late one night the two of you get stuck in your building’s faulty lift, and your friendship takes a turn into filthy uncharted territory. 

Tags/Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, oral - F receiving, PiV, light Dom/sub tones, maybe competency kink(?), no use of Y/N 

(N/A: I ain’t gonna lie. This was supposed to be about the same length as my other smutty one-shots, but it’s Captain Price, and I adore him, and he deserves a sweet, smutty love story, dammit! It is what it is.

Think of this fic as a good, sappy, smutty weekend fic - the ones you want to read when ya ain’t got nothing else to do but clean, and you’re procrastinating. It’s that kind of fic.  I would apologize for the lengthy smut scene, but what’s the point? I needed the purge and you guys get... lots of Captain Price smut! Win-win.

Oh, and suspend your knowledge about elevator dimensions and basic elevator safety protocols. This is fanfic. We stan bullshit here as long as it serves the smutty narrative.

Word Count: 7950

You were standing at your postbox, your back to the main lobby while sorting through your mail, when a deep voice spoke at your ear.

“Any of that mine?”

You jumped, startled, and snapped your head around. Your frown morphed into a flustered grin when you saw who was standing at your shoulder. “Oh, my God, John. You startled me,” you fussed, giving the captain a playful smack on the arm.

Captain Price beamed one of his warm smiles at you, blue eyes crinkling at the corners. His ruddy cheeks bunched up over the whiskers of his beard, giving him a boyish look. He clasped his hands behind his back and nodded to you in proper greeting. “How’ve you been, love? The little nippers not done ya in yet?”

The ‘little nippers’ he referred to were your year two primary students. Smirking at him, you turned and whipped open your trench coat like a pervy flasher, showing off your leggings and sweatshirt. They were currently covered in food stains and finger paint, with a light dusting of glitter. “Does this answer your question, Captain?”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, an amused expression on his face. “Quite the ensemble, Miss. Put that together yourself or did the kids help?”

You scoffed, dropping the sides of your coat. You looked him up and down, relieved to see him back in one piece. “It’s about time you came home. I get terribly bored without you around. I’ve missed you.”

His amused expression softened as he peered down at you. “It’s good to be back.” He then leaned forward and whispered, “I missed you, too, by the way. Was bored out of my mind the whole time.” He puffed up with smug pride when you blushed, giving him a flustered smile. Tilting his chin down, he slanted a glance at you. “Are you already in for the evening?”

You gave him a curious look. “That was the plan. Why?”

“I was about to nick out for a drink. Thought you might like to come with.”

A smile brightened your tired features. “That sounds perfect. After the day I’ve had, I could use a drink. Give me a few minutes to change?” you asked.

He gave a quick bob of the head. “Of course. I can wait here for―”

You sniffed at his attempt at propriety. “Don’t be silly. Come up to the flat with me. You can at least sit in a comfortable chair and watch some telly while you wait.” You leaned back and arched a brow at him. “Or are you hanging out down here hoping to run into Mrs. Kelsey?” you asked, your tone teasing.

Mrs. Kelsey was seventy-two and fawned over the captain like he was her one true love. It would have been endearing if not for the fact that she’d gotten a bit handsy with him a few times. It amused you to no end, especially when you got to watch John try to extricate himself from the old woman’s amorous attentions.

“Very funny, love, but no,” he said, then cast a wary look around. “I’m not prepared to see the old dear just yet.” He pressed his hand to the small of your back and guided you towards the lift, whispering at your ear. “I’ll need you to distract her if she corners me again.”

You gave a soft laugh, shaking your head. “And get in the way of true love? No way!”

He poked your side as the two of you entered the lift, making you giggle. “You know, I’ve never had a woman come onto me like she does. It’s a bit flustering,” he joked, pressing the button for your floor.

You snickered behind your hand. “So, does that make her your cougar?” When he rolled his eyes, you gave him a sly grin. “Guess that would make you her ‘boy toy’, wouldn’t it?”

Price dipped his chin to give you a heated look, sorely tempted to tell you what you could do with his boy toy. Your playful teasing always got him worked up in the worst way. “Watch it, love. You’re going to get yourself into trouble.”

The husk in his voice made your belly swoop, made you want to cause all sorts of trouble for the captain. Feeling more than a little aroused and giddy, you smirked at him, ready to snark back, when the lift suddenly began to emit a terrible grinding noise and the carriage noticeably slowed.

You both stared up at the ceiling, alarmed. Price’s arm instinctively went around your waist as the two of you listened to the grinding sound grow higher in pitch until it finally whined itself out. The lift then gradually began to pick up speed again until it was moving at its normal pace, as if nothing had happened.

“What in the bloody hell was that?” Price uttered, shifting his eyes down to you.

You stared back at him, unsettled. “It started doing that about a week ago, but it wasn’t this bad before.” You peered back up at the ceiling. “I got an email from the building manager this morning. He sent out a mass notification to all the tenants, informing us that the lift is supposed to be down for repairs next Monday. We’ll be allowed to use the staff elevator until it’s fixed.”

Price frowned. “We should be bloody usin’ it now.”

You made it to your floor without further incident, both of you relieved to finally be off the faulty lift. “What d’you say to us using the staff elevator when we go for drinks?” you suggested.

“Sounds like a good idea,” Price agreed with a grim expression.

He followed you into your flat, closing the door and locking it behind him before taking a seat on your sofa to wait for you. You trailed off into your bedroom, chattering on about the building’s latest gossip, leaving the door ajar. He didn’t bother with the telly, content to just listen to your voice. He really had missed you terribly this last deployment.

You came padding out of the bedroom a few minutes later wearing a svelte looking knit dress with a turtleneck collar, It hugged every curve on your body to perfection, stunning Price into open-mouthed silence for a moment. You were oblivious to his reaction, however, too busy gabbing on about the newlywed couple who had moved into 14-J.

“They seem like a nice enough couple, but that twat, Mr. Graham, has been complaining about them nonstop, so now there’s this whole big to-do going on between them and some of the other tenants...” You turned your back to him, pointing over your shoulder. “Mind zipping me up, love?” you paused to ask, then continued on with your story. “Anyway, like I was saying...”

Price swallowed as he stood up behind you. You smelled amazing, like flowers and soft musk, and you’d pinned your hair up in a style that flattered your face and exposed the lovely curve of your neck. He inhaled your scent as he brought his hands up to slide over the soft weave of the dress, pinching the small zipper between finger and thumb. His eyes fixated on the soft skin at the nape of your neck, wishing he could press his lips into the little hollow at the base of your skull. He brought the zipper up slowly, then skimmed his hands over your shoulders before he turned you around. You had a ridiculous, goofy grin on your face, amused at something you’d just said, eyes bright and sparkling as you looked up at him.

“...and then Mr. Graham had the nerve to tell the building supervisor he couldn’t get a decent night’s sleep with all the moaning and groaning going on next door, but Mrs. Graham told Jessica in 14-B that her husband probably wasn’t sleeping well because he spent most of his time wanking it off in the loo. I almost died laughing when Jess told me that!” you giggled.

Price gazed down at you with an unreadable expression in his eyes. He reached up and tucked a stray curl behind your ear and smiled at you. “You’re beautiful, ya know that, love?”

You don’t know what got to you more, the expression on his face or the low, raspy register of his voice. but combined they had you thinking some very inappropriate thoughts as you gaped at the captain. You blinked up at him, completely caught off-guard, not sure what to do or say. You could feel your cheeks growing warmer as you opened and closed your mouth, trying and failing to form a coherent response.

Price, sensing you were floundering, gave your shoulders a gentle squeeze and stepped back. “You look lovely in that dress, Miss.”

Flustered beyond reason, you dropped your gaze to stare down at your fidgeting fingers. “Oh. Th-Thank you.” You cleared your throat and gestured back towards your bedroom. “I just― um, I n-need to get my shoes, and I’ll be ready to go.”

Price slipped his hands into his pockets, the picture of smug confidence, and gave you an indulgent smile. “Take your time, love. No rush.”

You gave him an awkward smile as you hurried out of the room. You were obviously flustered, but there was no mistaking the heat he had seen in your eyes before you could look away. He hummed, his expression thoughtful.

That brief interaction had brought everything into sharp focus for the captain. He’d been tiptoeing around his feelings for you for months now, but there was denying it anymore. He wanted more than friendship from you. Yes, he adored you and considered you a dear friend, but his attraction to you wasn’t waning, like he thought it would. Instead, it was only growing stronger with the passage of time, and he was fairly certain you felt the same way.

Now, he just needed to figure out what to do about it.

Your evening out with the captain lasted far longer than you expected. Drinks ended up segueing into having dinner at the pub, and then a shared dessert followed by a nightcap. Not wanting the night to end just yet, you had suggested walking off dessert in a nearby park before returning home, which John eagerly agreed to. You probably talked the poor man’s ear off, but his warmth and charm had you fawning over him almost as bad as old Mrs. Kelsey. You couldn’t help but wonder if he could see the adoration on your face every time you looked at him. It was embarrassing how infatuated you were with this man.

It was edging close to midnight by the time the two of you made it back to your building, both of you surprised to discover how late it was. Whispering and giggling as you passed through the lobby, you both were too distracted by the other to remember to use the staff lift and boarded the one in the lobby without another thought.

John hit the floor button then went back to telling you about his first kiss with an older girl named Veronica when he was only ten years old. Apparently, the girl had bullied him into to giving her the smooch.

“I’m tellin’ ya, love. She was a head taller than me, almost twice my size, plus two years older. I was terrified of her. When she told me to pucker up, I puckered up.”

You were wheezing with laughter, holding onto his arm as you dabbed at your watering eyes with the back of your hand. “Oh, my God, you poor thing!” You sniffled, grinning at him. “There must be something about you that attracts older women. First, Veronica and now Mrs. Kelsey. It has to be that boyish charm of yours.” You giggled again when he tilted his head and shot you a warning look.

Then that grinding sound started above your heads, again.

You startled at the noise, and both of you looked up, your fingers gripping John’s arm tighter. The lift slowed to a crawl, the noise almost ear-splitting, before it finally came to a complete stop. You both stood in shocked silence for a moment, staring at each other.

You blinked at him and then peered up at the flickering light above your head. “Oh, God. Are we...” You leaned over and tapped the button for your floor, but nothing happened. “Are we stuck?”

John tried pushing more buttons, but when nothing happened, he hit the emergency button, instead. Still, nothing happened.

You looked between him and the control panel, a confused look on your face. “Um... shouldn’t there be like an alarm or something?”

John nodded, pressing the emergency button again. “Yeah, but it doesn’t seem to be working. Bloody hell,” he muttered, jabbing the button again before finally giving it up for a lost cause. He blew out a sigh as he pulled his cell from his pocket, but then grunted in frustration. “Of all the bloody luck... I forgot to charge the damn thing. It’s dead.” He looked up at you. “Can you call the building manager, love? Let ‘em know we’re stuck in here.”

“Yeah, sure,” you nodded. You opened the small clutch purse you’d brought with you, an anxious expression coming over your face as you pawed through the few contents, and then you grimaced. “Oh, my God, John. I— I left my cell in my other bag. I’m so sorry.”  

John blinked his eyes shut for a moment, but then simply nodded, taking the news in stride. “It’s alright, love. We’ll figure something else out. Don’t worry,” he said, unflappable as ever.

You twisted your fingers together, worried. “But what can we do?” you asked, feeling a little panicked, though you tried your best to remain calm.

He noticed your fidgeting hands and wrapped a comforting arm around your shoulders. “Don’t fret, love,” he murmured, rubbing your arm. “I’ll figure something out.”

You gave him a hesitant smile and nodded. “I know you will.” You tried to put on a brave face, but you were lowkey freaking out on the inside.

John gave you a reassuring hug, then stepped away to properly assess the situation. There were two ways out of the lift: through the doors or through the emergency hatch in the ceiling. He considered his options and then decided to pry open the doors, first. Having you stand opposite him, he traced his blunt fingers down the seam where the doors met, finding enough of a hold to pry them apart, then the two of your worked together to open a gap. He huffed a frustrated breath at what was revealed.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, dreading his answer.

He planted his hands on his hips, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “We came to a stop between floors. I was hoping we were close enough to one of the levels to pry open the doors and climb out, but that’s not going to happen.” He then peered up at the ceiling. “Guess there’s nowhere to go but up.”

You glanced up at the hatch several feet above your heads, then shot him a dubious look. “How are you going to reach it? You’re tall but not that tall,” you said, peering back up at the ceiling and shaking your head. “They must have designed this lift with pro basketball players in mind.”

John chuckled, relieved to hear you joking. “The lift is this big because it’s actually a freight lift. This building used to be a factory before it was renovated into flats. Instead of installing a new lift, they kept the old one and gave it a facelift.”

You gave him a quizzical look, slightly impressed by his little historical lesson. “Huh. I didn’t know that.”

John looked at you as if sizing you up and then stared up at the hatch again. ”You’re right about one thing, though. I’ll never reach that hatch on my own, so you’ll have to open it for me.”

You snapped your eyes back to him. “What?!”

He made a calming gesture with his hands before taking yours. “Listen to me, love. I can’t reach the hatch to open it on my own, but if you can get it open for me, I should be able to jump and hopefully catch the edge. I can then boost myself up and climb through.” He pointed to the hatch. “I want to lift you up so you can open the hatch for me, alright?”

“Lift me up?” you repeated, incredulous. “You’ll break your back!”

He smirked, a rather smug expression settling on his features. “Believe me, love. It won’t be a problem.”

You shook your head, unconvinced. “I’m heavier than you think. I’ve been in a toxic relationship with the Cheesecake Factory down the block for the past two months. Let’s just say I’ve put on a few pounds,” you confessed.

John couldn’t help but laugh. “You’ll never do, love.” He gripped your shoulders and looked you in the eye. “I promise, everything will be alright. I’m going to lift you up on my shoulders so you can reach the hatch, but I’ll be holding onto you the whole time.”

You frowned, nowhere near as confident as he was, but there didn’t seem to any other option. You glanced up at the hatch, then back at him. Steeling your nerves, you took a deep breath and nodded. “Alright. Fine. I’ll do it.”

John lifted his brows, surprised you were so quick to agree. “Are ya sure, love?”

You gave him a determined look and nodded again. “Yeah. I can do this.”

A bubble of pride swelled up in his chest. He gave your shoulders another squeeze. “That’s my girl.” He held you out at arms’ length and looked you up and down. “Alright, first order of business is to get those heels off.”

You nodded, kicking the pumps off your feet and flexing your toes. “Okay. Now what?”

John opened his mouth, but then snapped it shut, his cheeks coloring slightly. Clearing his throat, he dropped his gaze down to the skirt of your dress. “You’ll have to, ah— hitch your skirt up, so you can sit on my shoulders properly.”

“Oh.”

You weren’t sure whose blush was worse once he told you that. He gave you a chagrined little smile and rubbed at the back of his neck, embarrassed by his own request.

And you... 

Well, you were trying to reconcile yourself to the situation. It wasn’t that big of a deal, not if it meant getting the two of you out of there. It wasn’t like you didn’t have underwear on— well, thongs were technically considered underwear. It was just the thought of his head being trapped between your bare thighs. Sure, you’d fantasized about having your legs wrapped around his head plenty of times, but never like this. Just the mere thought of it made a heavy feeling settle deep in your pelvis. God, what if your body— responded to him being in such a position? Considering his voice alone got you wet, it was a genuine concern.

“If it makes you uncomfortable, you can say no, love. I can try to find some other way to reach the hatch.”

Your heart melted a little at his words. There was such a look of sincerity and remorse on his face that you knew that he meant what he said. If you said no, he would just accept it and try to figure something else out.

You blew out a breath. You were being ridiculous. John was doing everything in his power to get you two out of this situation, and here you were acting like some shy, teenaged virgin. He needed you, and you’d be damned if you were going to let him down over your own silly little insecurities. Shaking off your worries, you stiffened your spine and your will. 

“No, it’s fine. I can do it.”

John tipped his chin forward to peer into your eyes. “Love, truly, if you don’t want to do this— “

You blew out an exasperated breath. It was sweet of him to be so considerate, but it wasn’t helping anything. If anything, it was only undermining your confidence. “For fuck’s sake, John. Just shut up and get on your knees, please.”

Well, that definitely shut him up. His eyes went a little wide to hear his sweet little schoolteacher speak so boldly and with such confidence. Oh, he liked this side of you very much.

He drew back to look at you with a rather seductive smirk on his face. “Whatever you desire, Miss. Your wish is my command,” he teased, eyebrow quirked.

You huffed and rolled your eyes, spinning your finger at him to get him to turn around. With a cheeky grin, he turned around and knelt on one knee, bracing his hands on the floor as he lowered his head. “Just stand over my neck, and I’ll do the rest, love.”

“Right,” you muttered, gulping past the lump that had formed in your throat. God, were you really about to do this? You inhaled a deep breath and blew it out.

Grabbing the stretchy material of your skirt, you pulled it up high on your thighs, feeling the cool air on your bare behind. Taking a fortifying breath, you stepped over his bowed head, planting your bare feet on either side of it. When his hands came up and gripped your shins, you inhaled sharply, but managed not to startle at the contact. He lifted his head, sliding his hands up to take a firm grip just above your knees, and—  

Wow! His hands were so warm. Were his hands always that warm? And big? And so strong? 

Your heart skipped a beat and your lower belly fluttered with arousal. God, this is so not the time for this, you chided yourself.

John’s fingers flexed on your legs and then gripped them tighter. “Ready, love?” he husked out.

“Oh— y-yeah. Yeah. I’m ready.” 

Oh shit oh shit oh shit...!

The captain rose in one fluid motion, standing up with a little grunt. It was so fast, you yelped and grabbed onto the sides of his head, knees locking down around his neck in a vice grip. He chuckled, though it was a little breathless, and squeezed your legs to reassure you. “Easy, love! I’ve got you. You’re not going anywhere.”

“Omigod, I’m so sorry!” you said in a breathless rush, easing the tension in your legs so the poor man could breathe again. “Are you okay?”

He patted your leg, his hand landing a little higher on your thigh when it came to rest again. Your skin prickled with goosebumps. “No worries, love,” he murmured lowly. “Didn’t mind it at all.”

Did his voice just get deeper? Because it definitely sounded like it did. It was almost a fucking purr, it rumbled out so smooth. He turned his head slightly, and his beard scratched over the sensitive skin on the inside of your knee.

You shivered.

You shivered and felt a trickle of arousal slowly ooze down your fluttering channel. Shit! No-no-no, please don’t do this right now...

“Ya alright, love?”

Get your shit together, Miss! 

“Give me just a second,” you replied, trying to calm yourself down. You inhaled a deep breath, closing your eyes, and held it for a count of four, then slowly blew it out. “Okay,” you sighed. “I’m good.”

“’Atta girl,” John praised you, squeezing your leg again. “Alright, love. I’m goin’ to get you under the hatch. You just say when to stop or move, yeah?”

“Got it.”

John grinned at the determination in your voice. He knew this had to be incredibly uncomfortable for you, but you were soldiering through, regardless. He had the sudden urge to turn and kiss the inside of your knee but bit the inside of his cheek, instead. Later, he promised himself. Shifting your weight forward a little more, he moved towards the center of the lift. 

“Alright, Miss,” he said, all business now. “You tell me which way to move, so you can reach it, but don’t over-extend yourself. I don’t want you to get unbalanced.”

You looked up to see you were directly beneath the hatch, but when you reached up for the metal latch holding it in place, you felt your sense of balance shift and panicked. Locking your legs around poor Price’s head, again, you dropped your arms and grabbed onto his head for support. Luckily, you recovered quickly and released him before he passed out.

“I’m sorry, John,” you apologized, petting the top of his head like he was one of your students. You caught yourself and stopped. You seriously needed to hang out with people your own age more.

“It’s fine, love,” he chuckled, sliding his hands up higher on your thighs. “Just tell me which way I need to move.”

You looked up at the hatch, keeping your hands on his head to keep you steady. “Um, take a couple steps back.”

John backed up a couple of steps, but you ended up a little further away than you would have liked. You felt him shift beneath you and readjust his grip. His neck and shoulders were probably killing him. You glanced back up at the hatch. 

Just get the hatch open and get off this poor man’s back, Miss. 

You sighed.

Fuck it. You could reach it from here, it would just be a little bit of a stretch.

You settled yourself more firmly on his shoulders and clamped your calves onto Price’s sides. Looking up at the hatch, you stretched your arms up, your fingers just shy of reaching the handle. “Shit,” you muttered. You glanced down at the top of his head. “I’m going to have to lean up just a little to reach this. Is that okay?”

Price adjusted his grip. “I’ve got ya. Go ahead.”

You stretched your torso up, leaning slightly forward. You could feel your lower belly rubbing over the back of Price’s head and then something else rubbed against it. You pressed your lips into a thin line, determined to ignore it, but holy shit! His head was right there! For fuck’s sake...

Your fingers caught at the latch, but slipped off, and you huffed in frustration. You tried again, this time hanging on long enough to pull the latch about a quarter of the way down. “Shit!” you hissed, and Price chuckled again. Someone seemed to be having a grand old time.

“Patience, love.”

You rolled your eyes, then refocused on the task at hand. You leaned up again, this time a little higher and more forward, extremely aware of your crotch rubbing against the back of Price’s head again. You huffed out a breath and grabbed a hold of the latch, then attempted to give it a little yank, but it barely moved. “I think the latch is rusted or something. It’s moving, but it’s really stiff.”

“Do you think you can get it open?”

You peered back up at it. “Yeah, I think so.” When he nodded for you to try again, you stretched yourself up, leaning more forward, and wrapped your fingers around the latch. Price tilted his head back to look up, notching it perfectly into your crotch. You startled at the contact, hand jerking the latch as you instinctively rocked your hips away, unbalancing you both.

You heard Price grunt and clamp his hands down hard on your thighs as he staggered back a step. Your hand was yanked off the handle by the momentum, the hatch popping open with a scattering of dirt and rust. You shrieked as you felt your balance tip back, and once more locked down on Price’s head. 

Bless him.

Somehow, the captain managed to stay upright, going with the backwards momentum, and let it carry the two of into the wall. Your head connected first, and then your shoulders, your lower half shifting back and forth as Price regained his balance, steadying beneath you.

“Are ya alright, love?” he asked in a shaky voice, easing himself down to his knees, hands like vice grips on your thighs. “Just hang on, almost got ya down.”

Even after he knelt, it took you a few seconds to release the death grip your thighs had on his head. You were panting, heart pounding out of your chest. Your eyes rolled up to the ceiling and you snorted. “Hatch is open.”

Price huffed out a labored breath. “That’s good, love.”

You eased yourself off his back. When you had both feet firmly planted on the ground, Price lowered his head in relief and fell back on his bum with a sigh.

“Bloody hell...” he breathed out, rubbing the back of his neck. “Scared the bloody shite outta me, love.” He scrubbed his hand over his head, and then drew it down over his face. “If you’d been hurt, I—”

You shushed him, petting his head, again. “Hush. I’m fine.” You closed your eyes, trying to calm your breathing and settle your nerves. You were shaking like a leaf from the leftover adrenaline rush, knees trembling. You locked them so you wouldn’t slide to the floor and leaned hard against the wall, letting your head thunk back.

Price turned to look up at you, mouth open to apologize, then froze. The hem of your skirt had worked itself up until it was almost around hips, the crotch of your panties peeking out from below. His eyes drifted over the black satin material, unconsciously leaning closer. He slowly lifted his eyes to see that you were staring down at him, eyes at half-mast and lips parted. 

Bloody hell, the way you were looking at him. You looked both flustered and wanton at the same time, so needy for attention, but too afraid to ask. His sweet, sexy, oblivious girl. He would give you everything you needed, if you would allow it.

Flustered, you reached to pull down your skirt, but he caught your hand, his blue eyes glinting as they locked with yours. Head tilting, his gaze trailed back down to your panties again before sliding back up to meet yours. A little smirk played around his mouth.

“Don’t be shy now, love. You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about.”

John’s words had your breath catching in your throat. You watched as he shifted to his knees and sat back on his heels in front of you. He brought his hands up to grasp the back of your calves, looking up at you with open lust in his eyes.

“I want to touch ya, love,” he told you plainly, his voice a gruff rasp. “Wil ya let me?”

God, what a question. This will change everything, your logical mind intoned, but your emotional self was screaming, He’s right fucking there! Do it! Say yes! 

You inhaled a shaking breath and nodded.

“You need to say it for me, love,” he chided you softly, tipping down his chin. “If you want me to touch you, tell me.”

Your dry throat clicked as you tried to swallow. Your lips parted, heart ticking up a beat. “Y-Yes... I want you to touch me. P-Please.” you whispered, an urgent note in your tone.

A different expression settled on his face at your words, something sinfully dark yet endearingly affectionate. Leaning forward, he pressed his nose into your clothed pussy as he slid his hands up to grip your hips. He raised his head to look up at you, his eyes darkened to a deeper shade of blue, his pupils large and glassy black. His expression left no doubt to what his intentions were with you, but he was silently giving you an out, if you wanted it.

Since he didn’t speak, neither did you. Instead, you sighed out a shuddering breath and rolled your hips, pushing your covered sex right into his face. His grip clamped onto your hips as his eyes rolled shut, and he groaned into your crotch.

The vibration made your clit hum with energy, the sensation buzzing all the way up to your brain and tightening your scalp. Goosebumps rose over the entirety of your body and your gut dropped in a devastating fell swoop. A positively filthy moan oozed past your lips as you raked your fingers over the top of his head, crooking them to hold him in place. Your eyes rolled up and slid shut, your mouth falling open as you slumped back against the wall.

John nuzzled his face into your crotch, grazing his teeth over your mound, then hooked his thumbs under the narrow, satin strings at your hips. He peered up at you, pressing a kiss above your mons before sliding the panties down your legs to expose your sex. He moaned at the sight, his posture going slack.

“Bloody hell, love,” he sighed, his expression almost wistful. He stroked over your damp folds with the backs of his fingers. “Such a pretty little thing.” The corner of his mouth tugged up when you whimpered. “Prettier than I ever imagined, and I thought about it. A lot.”

He slowly smeared your slick over your swollen lips with his thumb, teasingly soft, never once slipping in between the delicate folds. “I thought about how pretty it would be,” he murmured, tracing a feather-light finger over the slit. “Thought about how sweet it would smell.” He grazed his nose right above your clit. “An’ bloody hell, it made my mouth water to think about how fuckin’ good you’d taste.” A rumbling hum poured out of his throat as he mouthed at your wet folds, running a flat tongue up its seam.

He had been holding you in place this whole time, not letting your hips move, keeping you from grinding into his face. He had yet to breach your folds, and you were trembling in his grasp. He slanted a glance up at you. “Tell me, love. Would you like me to make ya cum on my tongue?” he asked, mild and teasing. He brushed a knuckle against your clit, smirking when your hips bucked, and you gasped out a little cry. “Be a good girl and tell me what ya want. sweetheart. Hmm?” 

The gentle authority in his voice worked like a balm for your brain, even as it set your core on fire. There was so much confidence and competence in his tone. That tone told you that this was a man who knew what he was doing and how to do it well, a man who would always deliver and leave you satisfied. There was no doubt in his mind that he could take care of you and give you just what you needed.

And all you had to do was be a good girl and ask.

You felt a warm rush of arousal coat your walls as you tried to roll your hips in a futile attempt to reach his mouth. “Please, John...” you begged in a plaintive whisper.

He planted soft kisses on the inside of your thighs, pausing before he pressed a kiss over your clit to rasp out, “Tell me what you want, sweetheart, an’ I promise you’ll have it.”

You whimpered and gripped his head. “Your tongue... Please, John. Make me cum.”

The expression on his face was wrecked. “Fuckin’ hell, love,” he moaned, swiping his tongue up your slit. “Any bloody thing ya want.”

And then, without further ado, he buried his face in your cunt.

You choked on your breath, eyes going wide as his tongue ran up through your folds in a fast, hot streak before his lips latched onto your clit. “Ha-ahh— fuck!” you cried out, back curling over his head.

John chuckled into your pussy, and, damn, if your knees didn’t buckle. If not for his hands holding you against the wall, you would have dropped like a stone. You darted your eyes down as you tried to brace your knees again, only to find him already looking up at you, a smug, amused light in his eyes. He swirled his tongue around your clit and wobbled your knees again, smirking into your folds when you had to grab his shoulders for support. You huffed out a surprised breath, panting out a little mewl. He then did it again, rolling his tongue over the nub like a piece of hard candy. And then winked at you.

He... 

Bloody winked at you...

With his face still buried in your pussy.

You groaned as you felt a hard pulse of arousal flow down your channel, knowing the instant John became aware of it, too. He hummed a growl and slid his lips off your clit to mouth at your soaked entrance, dipping his tongue in for more.

“Ah, John...!” you gasped out, your hands seizing his head, hips canting up to meet his mouth.

You felt like you were going to pass out. Or explode. Explosion seemed more likely as you felt his fingers slide up the inside of your thigh to graze over your soft lower lips. His tongue slithered back up to your clit as he slipped two fingers through your folds, stroking your entrance before sinking the thick digits into your pulsing channel.

Your head banged back against the wall as you felt your core quiver and tighten. This was not going to be one of those slow and easy orgasms, like the ones you were used to giving yourself. No, this felt like he was going to drag this climax out of you kicking and screaming. You were clenching down so hard around his fingers, and he was still attacking your clit, winding you up to the point of breaking. You felt your thighs begin to tremble and then shake as the pressure in your core red-lined.

John slid his hand back, felt the first spasms in your channel and crooked his fingers, stroking them inside you until he hit that little spongy spot that sent a shudder through your entire body. You cried out and clutched at his head, which only made him redouble his efforts. Hand working between your thighs, he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked.

Your vision went watery, and a high-pitched ringing filled your ears. Your orgasm really was like an explosion, like a bomb set off in the ocean, sending ripples of near-brutal pleasure ripping through your core. You drenched his face in your release, unaware of the filthy groan he breathed into your folds, already too far gone. 

John leaned back, chest heaving, a vicious smile on his face. “That’s my girl!” he growled and lunged back in.

Everything blurred.

How he dragged an orgasm out that long, you will never know, but by the time he finished with you, you were only upright by the grace of John. He eased you gently down the wall, pulling your legs around his hips to settle you over his spread thighs. He held you to his chest as he rubbed his hands over your back in soothing circles, letting you come down at your own pace. You were heaving for breath, panting against his neck, little aftershocks making your muscles spasm every now and then.

You felt dazed— hell, maybe even a little traumatized. Your reality had just been turned up on its head in the span of a few enlightening minutes, and you were having a hard time catching up. You had known this man for over a year, thought you knew his true nature. This sweet, warm, teddy bear of a man had just made you cum hard enough to make your ears ring. This mild-mannered gentleman had just rocked you to your very foundations. My god, if that’s how he eats pussy, imagine how he must fuck...

You lifted your head slowly from his chest, leaning back to stare at John. His eyes met yours, just as kind and soft as they ever were, but still blown wide and smoldering with lust. You could smell your arousal on his skin, on his breath, and damn, that did it for you. You slid your hands up to cup his face. 

“Love, what’s—?”

You darted your head forward and kissed him, catching him by surprise, but the captain quickly adapted to the situation. Arms tightening around you, he pulled you closer with a pleased growl, tilting his head to lean into the kiss. It shouldn’t have surprised you at all that he was good at kissing, too, not after what he had just shown you he could do with his tongue, but the man had you floating. You were panting for him again in no time, moaning and gasping into his mouth as he held onto your rolling hips.

“Bloody hell, love,” John gasped against your mouth, eyes pinched shut. “If ya don’t want this to go any further— ah, shite...” he choked out when you rolled your hips down and began to grind against him. “Love, listen to me. I— “

“John, you back out on me right now, I might just have to hurt you.” You said this to him with the utmost sincerity.

His brows ticked up, surprised, then he huffed a laugh, a pleased smile spreading across his face. “Copy that, love. Read ya loud an’ clear,” he drawled, capturing your mouth in another heart-stopping kiss.

He took your arms and wrapped them around his neck, then moved his hands from your back to the front of his trousers. You heard the muffled jingle of his belt and the hiss of his zipper, and your heart ticked up another beat. You were trembling with anticipation, huffing out a short breath when you heard him rumble out a sigh, relieved. You glanced down between your bodies to see his length bobbing between you, the swollen tip dark red and leaking. Moaning, you closed your eyes and raised your head until your lips were on his again.

“Want you inside me,” you breathed into his mouth, and you felt his breath hitch in his chest. Your pussy literally quivered when he slid his cock against your folds the first time. “Oh, my god... John, that...” 

“Shh. I know, love. That’s it. That’s a good girl,” he cooed into your ear. “Just hang on to me, yeah? I’ve got you.”

You felt his hands under your ass, gripping it tight. He lifted you up enough to notch his cock at your entrance, and then captured your lips with his before he sheathed himself to the hilt inside your walls with one fluid thrust of his hips.

He swallowed your small cry of surprise, drinking down the subsequent whimpers and gasps as he began to rock inside you. You clung to his shoulders, rolling your hips to meet him, letting your head fall back and closing your eyes to simply feel him.

John couldn’t resist the temptation and latched his lips onto the column of your throat, his beard scratching the sensitive skin and sending shivers racing down your back as he sucked his mark into your neck. He bit the edge of your turtleneck and pulled it down to leave another mark, making you gasp and clutch at his head.

He groaned into your skin and moved his hands to your back, shifting his weight to his knees to lay you back on the floor of the lift without missing a stroke. His warm hand wrapped around your ankle and pulled your leg up onto his shoulder. deepening his strokes as he leaned over you. You stared up at him, eyes gone lazy and dazed with arousal, your red, swollen lips parted, and cheeks flushed.

“Fuck, yer so beautiful,” he husked out, breaths heaving as his thrusts began to stutter. “Wanted ya for so long, love. Always on my bloody mind.” He gave a hard thrust, making you cry out. His eyes were darting over your face, drinking you in as you fell apart. “An’ ya feel so bloody good,” he grunted, with another hard thrust.

Your cry wavered as your walls began to squeeze and pulse around his cock. He dropped his head and growled, then pinned your other thigh to the floor, holding you open as he pistoned his hips between your thighs. “Fuck, right there,” he hissed to himself, hitting a spot deep inside you that made you convulse around him. His head snapped up to watch your face as you began to spasm around him. “Yesss, love, that’s it. Be a good girl an’ come for me,” he coaxed, making sure to hit that spot again and again until you finally shattered.

Everything seemed to tense up at once, your body locking into place as your climax rolled through you. It stunned you when it hit and then dragged you under, like a wave crashing against the shore and receding, pulling you far out to sea.

John hissed a curse, the way you felt around him as you came more than he could bear. With a frustrated growl, he pulled himself out, his release decorating your folds and quivering inner thighs. He watched your cunt flutter and spasm for him, a sense of deep satisfaction and pride swelling in his chest, even as he gathered you up in his arms.

He peered down at you, your eyes dazed, a blissed-out expression on your face, and knew he was done for, that he had been all along. He couldn’t deny it, even if he tried. You were it for him, and that’s just all there was to it.

“Hey, love,” he murmured, stroking his thumb over your chin. “Are ya with me?”

You blinked, sleepy and slow, then breathed out a sigh. A lazy smile spread across your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Mm-hm. No place I’d rather be.”

John huffed a laugh. “Under the circumstances, that’s quite the compliment, love.”

You hummed, lifting your head to place a soft, lingering kiss on his lips. “Just stating facts, Captain.”

His eyes softened. “Good. ‘Cause that’s where I want you to be. With me.”

Your smile was sublime. “Then that’s where I’ll be.” You then gave him a teasing little smile. “Even after we get out of here.”

John chuckled as he pressed his lips to yours. “You’ve made me a very happy man, Miss,” he murmured against your lips, then smirked, “But Mrs. Kelsey is never goin’ to forgive ya for this.”

And the captain was right. 

That mean old bird still won’t talk to you.

It’s been two years.

(Notes: @mirthlxss you asked for it lol. Hope you like. (((hugs))) )