#AND JUST THE FUCKING STORY. THE WAY IT TIES TOGETHER PERFECTLY

[weizhiyuan]

I love utsukushii kare so much I’m gonna be SICK

#I LITERALLY CANNOT STOP TJINKING ABT THEM #AND WHEN I DO INWANT TO CRY SO HARD #LIKE RN YES I AM A LITTLE OVERLY EMOTIONAL ABOUT THEM. #i have another analysis thought thing that I want to post but every time that happens I have to fight through my emotions so that #the sentences I write actually make sense. do u get it #UGH BUT ALSO NOT EVEN JUST THEM LIKE. OKAY HIRA SPECIFICALLY BC HE IS LITERALLY ME LIKE IVE NEVER FELT SO SEEN IN A CHARACTER LOWKEY… #AND JUST THE FUCKING STORY. THE WAY IT TIES TOGETHER PERFECTLY #OR THE CINEMATOGRPAHY AND EVEUTJTJNG RFGJFUDUDGGGHHRHRGHHH I CANT YALL ITS SO BEAUTIFUL #(saw a really good edit yesterday and it’s not helping this brainrot) #anyway. just had 2 post abt it. thank u #utsukushii kare #b.txt

[rebelfell]

bells will be ringing

crush!Steve Harrington x fem!Reader x fwb!Eddie Munson

The annual Harrington Christmas Party is an elegant affair, complete with decorations, fancy food and flowing libations. But when your friend-slash-fuck buddy Eddie tires of you and Steve dancing around your burgeoning feelings for one another…he offers a creative solution. 8k 18+, MDNI

cw: MMF, allusions to poverty and implied family strife, light alcohol and weed use, kinda mean/crass Eddie, semi-public fingering/oral (fem receiving), r’s hair gets pulled once.

The Harrington’s were white light people.

There wasn’t a single inch of their stately home not adorned in festive finery for their annual Christmas party. It was all silver candlesticks with cream-colored tapers, deep red ribbons tied into bows and hung at perfectly spaced intervals, long garlands of rich greenery draped along the banisters—real as shit and smelling like a goddamn pine forest.

It was a far cry from what you and Eddie knew growing up next door to one another way on the other side of town. For you two, it was scrawny and half-dead trees purchased at a discount as close to Christmas as possible when their vendors were just trying to unload them, covered in a hodgepodge of homemade ornaments and faded multicolored lights, only about half of which worked half the time. When your families could afford a tree, that was.

The Harringtons’ own stood at the far end of the house, glowing bright as a nuclear reactor with seemingly endless strands of bright white lights wound around its branches. It was methodically decorated with matching red, silver and gold baubles, each one hung precisely in place and polished to gleaming perfection. 

Elegant. Proper. Pristine.

The party was already well underway by the time you arrived, Steve nowhere to be found in the sea of people. They all stood together in clumps, exchanging jovial smiles that pushed up rosy cheeks, the women cooing over each other's outfits and jewelry while the men swapped stories about their quarterly earnings. Weaving through the throngs, cater waiters floated past carrying trays loaded with hors d’oeuvres and tall glasses of shimmery, bubbly liquid.

It made you and Eddie glance around, furtive and unsure as you skulked into the foyer. The two of you might as well have been invisible for all the attention anyone paid you.

“See Steve anywhere?” you asked, peering deeper inside the house.

The former stud of Hawkins High had always been easy to spot in the hallways of his former domain, seemingly towering over everyone even after he stopped sporting that gravity-defying bouffant hairstyle. Those days were long gone now, but an occasional glimmer of his old self would still shine through, reminding you of when King Steve reigned supreme.

“Nope, nowhere,” Eddie grumbled. “I told you this was a mistake.”

His warm breath on your ear as he leaned in to whisper in it had your head snapping to the  side. Some of the snow that had just started to fall outside dusted his dark, unruly curls and he still had his hands stuffed in the pockets of his leather jacket, as though he wanted to be ready to turn heel and run at the first opportunity. You’d seen him look more relaxed about to shoplift.

“What do you mean?” 

“Look around, sweetheart. See if you can spot what doesn’t belong.”

It was kind of irritating how right he was. Everyone else in attendance tonight looked perfectly at home in this pretty picture. It was all business partners and their wives, clients who probably made more in a year than you or Eddie would hope to see in your entire lifetime, other miscellaneous friends and fellow members of the Hawkins upper echelon.

To call you fish out of water would be putting it lightly. You were like fish on a space station.

“What were we supposed to do?” you whispered back. “We had to come.”

That was debatable. Steve had invited you, yes, but he also practically tripped over himself to assure you it was totally fine if you couldn’t make it. He’d sat on the edge of Eddie’s sofa running through all his most blatant tells—hands pushing through his hair, thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose, foot jiggling non-stop—as he told you about the party.

“It’s all my parents' friends, so it might be kind of lame. But I’m allowed to invite people if you guys want to come. It’d be really great to see you.”

He’d worked himself up into such a state, it almost felt cruel to say no. You weren’t sure what it was—something about the earnestness with which he asked, and the way his eyes shone so hopefully when you smiled and told him you thought it sounded like fun.

Eddie’s gruff voice sounded in your ear again.

“Think we’re just here to piss off daddy?”

You followed his eyeline to the living room, gaze promptly drawn to the imposing frame of John Harrington as he reached out to grip the hand of someone important. Or at least someone who seemed to think they were. Even never having seen or met him before, he was easy to pick out as Steve’s father. They had the same square jaw, the same perfectly angled nose and rich, light brown hair. Although, John’s was cut shorter and tamed into a much more manageable style than his son’s long locks that lived in a near-constant state of tousled messiness.

“Steve wouldn’t do that,” you said firmly. “He asked us to come because we’re his friends.”

The words still felt strange to say. It made you wonder, yet again, if it would ever stop feeling so surreal that you now hung out with Steve “The Hair” Harrington on an almost daily basis.

When you were in school together, you never even landed on his radar. Eddie had some notoriety as the town’s supposed demon summoner, but you were just…around. A plain face that blended into the crowd; a background extra with no lines in the scene; wallpaper and set dressing for the popular kids who were living out their exemplary lives.

If this was only a few years prior, he probably would be spending this evening sneaking drinks with Tommy H. and Carol, or parading around with Nancy Wheeler on his arm to show her off to all his dad’s colleagues and brag about her getting into Emerson. Instead, his falling out with all of them and his subsequent fall from his high-school throne had led him here—to an unlikely friendship with The Freak and The Invisible Girl.

Whenever he came over to Eddie’s to smoke, or you three piled into his car to go to the movies or drive the winding back roads that snaked along the edge of town, it almost felt natural. And the more time you spent with him, the harder and harder it became to remember why he’d always seemed so…untouchable.

“So, what should we do?” You wondered aloud as you glanced around again, still hoping Steve might materialize somehow. Behind you, Eddie’s head shook and his shoulders shrugged.

“How should I know? You were the one begging to come tonight.”

“I wasn’t begging.”

“Oh, really?” He scoffed as he leaned in close again, raising the pitch of his voice in an overly breathy imitation of you. “Please, Eddie? Please, can we go to the party? I’ll let you eat me out from the back if you—”

“Stifle,” you hissed, jamming your elbow into his stomach.

He grunted at the sharp jab, but his lips remained curled in a sly smirk. “What’s wrong? Worried your little crush will find out what I’ve been doing to you after he goes home?”

“I don’t care if he knows,” you sniped. It’s almost convincing, but the flash of alarm in your eyes told a different story. Not that it mattered, Eddie didn’t buy it for a second anyway.

“Well, that’s good,” he tutted. “Because he already knows we’ve fucked.”

“Wait, what?” You whirled around fully now. “How?”

“He, ahh…” Eddie fought to contain his grin as he scratched at the short stubble on his cheek. “He saw that picture you let me take.”

Your eyes went wide, both horrified and enraged as you shoved his shoulder—hard. 

“You showed it to him?”

“No, he found it,” Eddie hissed. “We were looking around for some weed I had stashed and he happened to open the drawer it was in.”

Your whole body—your very being—surged with white hot shame. If it wouldn’t have given Eddie so much satisfaction, you might have run straight out of the party right then and there. The thought of Steve seeing you like that…

It was almost unbearable.

The details of you and Eddie’s attachment had always been strictly under wraps. You weren’t exactly keeping it a secret, per se, but most people weren’t super accepting of the idea and you’d learned to play it close to the vest. And with how much time the two of you had started spending with Steve, you didn’t want to risk making him uncomfortable.

It had been going on for ages. Pausing, albeit briefly, if one of you found yourself in a relationship, and picking right back up when said relationship inevitably fizzled or if it tipped into the dangerous territory of getting too serious. He was one of the few people in your life you trusted intrinsically, and it wasn’t like guys were banging down your door as it was.

The picture was a one-time thing—a polaroid you’d let Eddie snap as a belated birthday present because you’d been too busy to find him something real.  You had made him swear upon pain of death it was for his eyes only. And now he’d shown it to the last person on earth you wanted to see it? Oh, you were going to garrotte him with tinsel in his sleep.

Also, Steve wasn’t your crush. He was…a preoccupation. A distraction. A vague interest.

You couldn’t even say for sure when it had begun. All you knew was just last spring, there was a month of Friday evenings where you found yourself back in the Hawkins High parking lot pulled in alongside Steve’s distinctive maroon beemer. He was leaning on the hood, waiting for Hellfire to let out so he could drive home his little horde of nuggets, and you had shown up acting as Eddie’s ride while his van was out of commission.

And that night, for the first time ever, you had a real conversation with Steve Harrington.

A fairly illuminating one, at that.

There was a sweetness to him you never would have guessed was there. And a dorkiness that brought light to his eyes when he did his elaborate handshake with Dustin Henderson, or the way he exalted along with the kids when the group burst through the double doors leading out of the school, whooping and cheering from a successful campaign. It warmed your whole body from the inside out, the feeling only growing stronger the more time you shared.

And now he’d seen your bare tits covered in Eddies cum. Perfect, just perfect.

“You’re such an asshole,” you muttered through gritted teeth. “That’s so humiliating.”

“I don’t know,” Eddie said, his eyes glinting with mischief. “I think he kinda liked it.”

“He…he did?”

“I mean, he was staring at it pretty hard. I think he needed some alone time with it.”

You rolled your eyes and gave his shoulder another shove for good measure, muttering a you're disgusting at him under your breath, hoping it would hide the nerves creeping across your face. Unfortunately, it only seemed to add fuel to Eddie’s fire. He leaned in one last time, his voice a gritty rasp in your ear that made shivers run down your spine.

“So you don’t wanna know what he said, then?”

Tension seized your shoulders as you glared at him, jaw clenched, ready to spit back a vicious comment—or maybe just spit—only to stop short at the sound of a familiar voice.

“Hey, guys! I’m so glad you made it!”

Steve was beaming as he came over, his bright hazel eyes shining, the golden flecks in them brought out by the color of his sweater. He drew you into his embrace, his strong arms curling securely around your body and his gourmand scent filling your nose as you breathed him in.

Your hands smoothed over the planes of his back, relishing in the softness of the knit he wore and the solidity of his broad chest pressed against yours. Your pulse quickened, blood pounding in your ears as you did your level best to force what Eddie had just told you out of your head.

“I’m the coat check tonight,” Steve explained, tipping an imaginary cap. “There’s a guest room upstairs we can put them in.”

“I gotta take a leak,” Eddie said, already shrugging off his leather jacket and pushing it into your arms. “Take care of that for me, will you sweetheart?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but Eddie just grinned back at you with a suggestive bounce of his brows behind his curled bangs. Steve pointed him in the direction of the bathroom and then turned straight back to you as he tilted his head upstairs.

“Shall we?” he asked.

The sounds of the party became distant and muffled as Steve led you upstairs to the designated dumping ground for all the furs and wraps of the numerous guests. It was dark inside, lit only by the moonlight that streamed through the window and the warm glow of the lights strung on the outside of the house that cast across the heap of coats on the bed.

You laid Eddie’s jacket down on a chair in the corner before you began to undo the belt of your own tied around your waist. As the thick, gray poly-blend slid off your shoulders, you shivered at the cool air hitting your heated skin for the first time that night.

When you turned back around, Steve was much closer than you remembered. 

His eyes studied you with a kind of reverence that made your body tingle with excitement in a way you didn’t dare to name. The way he looked at you sometimes…whether it through a haze of pot smoke in Eddie’s trailer, or in the flickering light of a screen at the multiplex, or beneath the harsh amber wash of a single streetlight in an empty parking lot…

It made you wonder.

“You look really nice,” he finally said, his voice as soft as his eyes.

The dress you’d worn was fairly simple, made of maroon velour with a burnout pattern of leaves you thought looked a bit like holly. It was loose and flowy, but had laces in the back you had pulled tight so it cinched in your waist and pushed up your chest, not unlike a corset. The neckline was just low enough to flirt with impropriety and it nicely complimented the length of the pendant that sat in the center of your clavicle.

A dainty (fake) gold snowflake you thought was festive.

“Thanks,” you replied, your voice even softer than his as you folded your arms in front of your stomach. “I hope it’s okay. I don’t have a lot of nice outfits.”

Steve shook his head, captivated eyes still scanning over you. They landed briefly on your legs, the black stockings you’d worn in an attempt to stave off the cold now prickling warm on your skin as if it was his hands running over them instead of just his gaze.

“You always look perfect,” he said.

It’s not just the words that made you falter, but the plainness with which he states them. As if it’s something obvious. As though he thinks it all the time and he just happened to say it this time. It makes your stomach twirl and all at once, you feel like an empty-headed teenager standing at her locker, dizzy from being complimented by the cutest boy in school.

“So, this is quite a spectacle,” you chuckled, glad for the dimness of the room that somewhat hid your reaction to him. “Are there any poinsettias left in Hawkins?”

Steve smirked and took a careful step forward. There was only about a foot of space between you now, if that. “I think if there were, my mom would already have a guy on it,” he said.

Your eyes met his and you shared a soft laugh. “Well, it’s really beautiful,” you sighed. “It must have taken her ages to do all this.”

“Not really,” Steve chuckled. “She has, like, a whole team that comes in and puts it all together.”

“Oh, right. Of course.” Your gaze dropped and you gave a regretful shake of your head. Rich people stuff, you thought a bit bitterly. No wonder that hadn’t occurred to you. “But…you must decorate the tree together, at least. Right?”

“No, they do that too. I’ve, uh…I’ve never actually never decorated a tree for Christmas. I kind of thought that was just something they did in movies.”

He huffed out a laugh, trying to hide the sadness that had started to pollute his smile, and rubbed the back of his head, tugging at the hair there that curled along the nape of his neck.

All you could do was stare.

You thought about that gleaming, twelve-foot behemoth downstairs with its dazzling lights and ornaments all spaced and hung so perfectly. It was stunning—looked like something straight out of a magazine. But now it was tinged with something hollow and unsatisfactory. 

Cold. Fake. Empty.

It was you who stepped closer this time, the muscles in your arm tensing as if fighting against your brain’s instructions to reach out and touch him. He was close enough now you could feel the warmth coming off his body and smell the spice of his cologne and the clove cigarette he must have smoked. Your lips trembled, parted slightly, still searching for what to say.

But words refused to come.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” Steve soothed, flashing you that easy and charming smile you’d grown to love and loathe in equal measure. “I just meant, like, Christmas really isn’t a big deal to me. And neither is this party, honestly, but…”

He fell silent as his hand reached out to squeeze your elbow, the soft pad of his thumb rubbing gently across your forearm. You stared mutely at his hand where it rested, already dreading how cold it would feel there when he let go of you. Except he didn’t.

“I’m really happy you’re here, though,” he said.

Steve’s chest rose with a sharp inhale and the tip of his tongue swiped along his bottom lip to wet it. His head tilted towards you, a few stray pieces of hair falling into his eyes that were bright and shiny with the string lights around the window reflecting in them. 

It made your own breath catch, praying you weren’t imagining it as he started to lean in.

“Sorry to interrupt.”

You and Steve flew apart like shrapnel, both of you too wrapped up in the steady draw of your bodies together to notice the heavy thump of Eddie’s footsteps in the hall. Steve’s hand came up automatically to run through his hair, dragging up the bottom of his sweater and flashing the briefest glimpse of torso as his arm lifted. It made your mouth dry as a bone.

“I just realized I forgot about my hostess gift,” Eddie said.

His brow cocked at you and yet another little smirk curved along his lips as he brushed past, nudging you ever so subtly back in Steve’s direction. He then started to rifle through the inside pockets of his leather jacket until he exhumed a plastic bag with a few joints inside.

“Got it!” he chimed, holding it up triumphantly. “Merry Christmas, Stevie.”

The little baggie sailed through the air, crinkling when it hit Steve in the center of his chest. 

“Oh! Thanks, man,” he chuckled, fumbling to catch it. “That’s great.”

Turning it over in his hands, he paused, mulling in silence as he stared down at the joints and glanced over his shoulder at the open doorway. From downstairs, you could now hear the faint tinkling of a piano being played and Eddie noticeably winced at the first few warbled notes of an unrecognizable carol being sung by a particularly drunk chorus.

“You know,” Steve said slowly. “We could bail on the party. Take this out to the pool house?”

As soon as he asked, his eyes darted up to meet yours—interrupting your intense study of the side of his face. Round and hopeful, they shone with his earnestness and you felt dizzy all over again. It made your brain scramble, trying to act like you weren’t just consumed by thoughts of what might or might not have been about to happen. You smiled.

“What are we waiting for?”

Steve left the lights off in the pool house, not wanting to draw too much attention if someone wandered onto the patio for some fresh air. The three of you made your way out in shifts—you with a plate of decadent treats you’d filled from the long table of desserts, Eddie with one loaded with food he’d swiped from the circulating trays, and Steve with a bottle of champagne he’d snuck out of the kitchen while the caterers were distracted.

The satisfying pop of its opening bounced off the walls that were mostly windows, sounding all the more illicit and clandestine in the darkness. The contents of the bottle fizzed as he held it out, offering you the first swig, and you took it with a nimble grasp.

Bubbly liquid splashed on your tongue and the dry, almost acidic, taste of it surely would have impressed someone with a more refined palette. But it made you wrinkle your nose as you squinted to read the French name scrawled in a loopy script on the shield shaped label.

“Gross, right?” Steve chuckled as you handed the bottle back. “But it gets the job done.”

He took a deep swig, head tipping back and giving you a long, long moment to study his neck as the muscles flexed with his swallow. You stared shamelessly, transfixed by the pairs of moles that sat along the line of his strong jaw, your head empty of thoughts except how much better that champagne would taste if you were licking it from his lips.

Eddie coughed, all loud and fake, drawing both of your eyes to him where he sat on a rattan sofa in the center of the room. He stared at you expectantly as he slouched down further in his seat, his knees spread wide and his arms draped across the back. He’d wasted no time making himself more comfortable, loosening the evergreen tie you’d made him wear and rolling up the sleeves of the dress shirt he normally only broke out for funerals or the odd court appearance.

“Don’t I get some of that?” he asked with a wry smirk.

Steve hurried to offer him the champagne, wiping away a little dribble of it that had started to trickle down his chin. You followed behind and slotted into a chair adjacent to Eddie’s as Steve handed off the bottle, making your brain short circuit when you saw the way his wide grasp nearly engulfed the entire bottom. It didn’t restart until he settled in the seat next to you.

After taking his sip, Eddie sparked up one of the joints and started it in a rotation along with the champagne. After only a few pulls from each you started to feel the effects, your head getting all light and floaty, your body warming from the blood pumping through you, your skin buzzing from the way your fingers kept brushing Steve’s whenever you passed him the joint or the bottle. 

Or maybe it was from the way his eyes lingered on yours when you did.

Eventually, you dropped out of the rotation and sank back in your chair to gaze up at the house. The whole thing seemed to glow with the warmth of the party within, its windows bright yellow, the lights twinkling on the eaves. And the snowfall had remained soft and steady, dusting everything with a fine layer of white like powdered sugar.

The picture was immaculate, like a life-size snow globe. If Steve’s mother had somehow managed to pay Mother Nature as a decorator, it wouldn’t surprise you in the slightest.

“Seriously, Harrington,” Eddie snorted, evidently sharing in your bewilderment. “If all this is just the weekend before, I’m scared to ask what your family does for the main event.”

A deep chuckle bubbled out of his chest as he took a long swig of the rapidly draining bottle. He’d said it mostly as a joke, but Steve’s reaction revealed a nerve had been struck. He began to cough, sputtering out his words as he pulled the smoldering joint from between his lips.

“Oh no, it’s not—they aren’t, uh…they won’t be here.”

His eyes darted to the floor as he shook his head and stammered out his non-answer, wearing that same look on his face you’d seen in the guest room. Half-sad and trying to hide it.

“What do you mean?” Eddie asked. Steve just shrugged.

“They always go away for Christmas. I think it’s St. Barts this year. Maybe Turks and Caicos? Their flight is sometime tomorrow night.”

“Wait, so…they just leave you here?” you asked. “By yourself?”

Steve shrugged and shook his head again, the move almost reflexive, like flinching away from the sting of alcohol cleaning a fresh wound. “A nanny would stay with me when I was little. But from the time I was old enough…yeah, pretty much.”

You and Eddie’s eyes met, the same unthinkable thought seemingly crossing your minds. You actually felt bad—not just bad, but sad—for Steve Harrington. 

“It’s not so bad, seriously,” he said, all flustered trying to salvage the mood. “I just hang out and watch movies and eat pizza. It’s fun. Honest.”

Despite his attempts, you can’t help but frown as you think what Steve’s Christmas will look like. His big house that was bursting at the seams with people right now being cold and desolate; him sitting all alone at a long dining room table eating leftover appetizers for every meal.

The thought tugged at something buried deep inside you. Something you’d packed away long ago and shoved into the furthest recesses of your mind. A box wrapped and taped and stapled and tied shut and then shoved behind a closet door. It made you turn to look at Eddie and he nodded knowingly, needing no words to know what you wanted him to say.

“You should come over,” he said, speaking so suddenly it came out loud in the tense quiet.

Steve’s head lifted. “What?”

“To me and Wayne’s,” Eddie supplied. “For Christmas Eve. We have dinner together and watch old movies and play games and shit. With this one.”

He jerked his thumb at you and you smiled as Steve’s eyes flitted over to meet your gaze.

“Only because they can’t cook to save their lives,” you said, shooting him a wink that made the corners of his mouth curl upwards.

“It’s not gonna be like this,” Eddie assured. “But it’s something, you know?”

“That, um…” Steve looked down at his lap, his long lashes fluttering as he tried to blink back the beginnings of tears. “That sounds really nice.”

Your hand moved without permission, reaching out to close around his wrist and squeeze. Steve’s head turned, staring at it like he thought he was dreaming. And as your brain suddenly caught up with the action and your body flooded with embarrassment, you started to pull it back only to feel the warmth of his palm covering your hand to hold it in place.

The only sound in the room was yours and Steve’s soft breathing and you swore you could feel the way both of your pulses were racing in time. His eyes lifted to meet yours and you became entranced all over again by his handsome face, the freckles that dotted his tanned skin, hazel eyes that shimmered as he scanned your expression, the deepness of his cupid's bow.

“I, um…I should check in with my mom real quick. You guys, uh…sit tight.”

Steve sputtered out his words as he rose to his feet, leaving your skin cold as he pulled his hands from yours. He looked around, his eyes searching to land on anything besides you or Eddie as he turned and stumbled towards the door. Eddie watched you watch Steve leave, an expression on his face as bemused as it was mocking.

“Jesus Christ, you two are exhausting.”

He shook his head, laughing to himself as he stuffed the last of the appetizers in his mouth. You glared back at him as he chewed and tried not to think about how your hand still burned where the ghost of Steve’s warmth remained.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on. If I knew I was gonna have to watch you make googly-eyes at each other all night, I could have stayed home. I get enough of that as it is.”

“We’re not—”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Eddie scoffed. “You are. He is. Just make a move, already.”

It was actually painful rolling your eyes as hard as you did. “Right. Sure. And what kind of move am I supposed to make? Considering how he ran out of here just because I touched his arm?”

“You’re not serious, are you? You’re pulling my dick, right?”

Eddie hunched forward as you deadpanned him, answering with a slow blink of your eyes and humorless expression until he threw his head back in a loud laugh.

“He had a fucking boner, smartass!” he cackled.

It’s not only your cheeks that warm now, but your whole body igniting like a bonfire. The feeling grips your shoulders, it’s talons digging into your flesh, threatening to pierce it to the bone.

“Bullshit,” you whispered, your mind reeling.

“You think I don’t know Steve well enough to know when he goes from six to midnight? It happens literally any time you touch him.”

Eddie was still snickering to himself as he took a final puff of the joint that had been smoked down to a nub. You stared at your hands in your lap, thoughts going into overdrive. Because this wasn’t just some random guy at the Hideout or an ex-classmate hitting on you at a house party. This wouldn’t be just a fumbled touch, grabby hands groping blindly in a dark closet that you would recount to Eddie before he gave you the orgasm you’d sorely been denied.

This was Steve. This would be something. Wouldn’t it?

“Only one way to find out,” Eddie said, as though he could hear the question you were asking yourself. “Anything’s gotta be better than this.”

“But what if he—”

The rattle of the doorknob cut you off, your eyes darted to the door just as Steve pushed it open to slip back inside. Eddie’s dark curls fell forward, sliding off his shoulders as he leaned in.

“Just follow my lead,” he whispered.

Your eyes bulged in your skull, but before you could retort or argue, Steve had plopped back down in the chair next to you and your lips were effectively sealed.

“So the singing is still going on,” he chuckled. “But I think everyone will head home soon. We aren’t missing much.”

“That’s okay.” Eddie groaned softly into a stretch as he settled back into his reclined position. “I’m sure we can think of something to do.”

Heat flooded your core at his insinuating tone and you sat up a little straighter. He let his head loll to the side, his eyes finding yours automatically, dark irises glinting in the scant light.

“Hey…c’mere, doll.”

Eddie shifted down in his seat, rubbing his ringed hand across his thigh as an invitation. Maybe it was the weed. Maybe it was the fancy, and surely expensive, champagne you’d been sipping all night. Maybe it was the way Steve’s gaze followed you so intently as you stood and walked over to where Eddie sat on the wicker sofa. Whatever it was, it was working.

You laid your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself as you kneeled on the cushion next to him and went to straddle his lap. But his hands came up to grip your waist and stopped you.

“Uh-uh,” he said, motioning his index finger in a circle. “Other way.”

You hesitated, glancing from your crouched position over at Steve. His eyes smoldered in the darkness as he watched you—leaning forward in his seat, elbows resting on his knees, his long fingers laced in front of him. With a hard swallow, you stood and turned.

Eddie jerked you back against him, roughly pulling you flush with his chest. His knees pushed between your own and he spread them wide so your legs were held open, draped over the tops of his thighs. It made the skirt of your dress glide upwards, hem skimming the tops of your stockings, threatening to reveal the strips of bare skin between them and your panties.

His words from earlier still rang in your head. Follow my lead.

Well-worn hands splayed wide across your stomach, squeezing at the softness of your waist. Beneath you, his hips began to shift and the beginnings of his hard-on pressed insistently into the fat of your ass. It made you shiver all over, a gasp falling from your lips.

“So well behaved,” Eddie hummed, tracing the line of your jaw with his fingertips, suddenly gripping your chin in his hand to turn your face towards him. “She’s such a good girl, Stevie… and we have so much fun together…”

The words and the deep timbre of his voice sent more shivers down your spine as he bumped the tip of your nose with his own. He pecked lightly at your lips until they opened up for him, his tongue probing the warm cavern of your mouth until you were moaning into his kiss.

It was lazy, but punishing. He nipped gently at your top lip, his own feathering with a tiny snarl as he revered back to his conversation with Steve.

“Why don’t you tell her about that photo you found?” he asked, hot breath fanning across your cheek. “Tell her what you thought about it.”

Your gaze flashed to Steve’s and you wondered if there was more light in here whether you’d be able to see a rush of scarlet covering his cheeks. His eyes had gone round with nervous energy, but they remained locked onto yours as he spoke.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about it,” he rasped, his voice almost cracking his throat was so tight. “I wish I could see it again, I…I wish it was me she’d done that for.”

The pit of your belly burned at his words, a breathy sigh fluttering in your chest and an exquisite ache now radiating between your legs. Eddie’s fingers trailed along the center of your body, over your sternum, tracing the dip of your navel through your dress until it quivered under his touch.

Slowly, he drew up the bottom of your dress like a curtain to reveal your core and the black lace your arousal had begun to seep through. The tips of his fingers stroked your entrance, mercilessly teasing your second set of lips.

“You wouldn’t believe how good she feels, Steve,” Eddie husked, his fingers holding their pace, making you grind into his lap. “Way better than that prissy cheerleader pussy you’re used to.”

The room filled with the sound of your breath and the wet schlick of Eddie’s fingers in your folds.

“Oh, sorry,” Eddie snickered. “I should say honor society pussy.”

Steve’s nostrils suddenly flared, his gaze tearing away from you and your body as if coming out of a trance. You looked back over your shoulder with a horrified look.

“Eddie—”

“Shush,” he snapped, cutting you off by plunging his fingers inside of you. They hooked upwards and your back bowed at the sudden stretch, a broken moan slipping past your lips. Steve’s eyes were drawn to your face at the sound, Eddie’s mention of his ex flying right out of his head.

“You want a taste, Harrington?” he asked, all dark and leading.

A little whimper escaped you at the thought and Eddie grinned wickedly. He smiled as he kissed the back of your neck, his teeth flashing as he nipped at your racing pulse.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, sweetheart? You’d like his tongue?”

“Y-yes,” you gasped, your eyes darting to find Steve’s. “Please.”

At your plaintive mewl, the very moment you asked, Steve instantly rose to his feet and hurried to kneel between yours and Eddie’s spread legs. His long fingers wrapped around the gusset of your underwear and he wrenched them to the side to reveal your dripping core.

He licked his lips as he stared at it, practically salivating. Your own lips trembled, fighting back the urge to cry out for him as you let your head fall back to rest on Eddie’s shoulder.

The wet heat of his tongue met your pussy in long, languid swipes. He nodded his head with each motion, dragging it through your folds as he inhaled deep and needy breaths of your scent like you were his air. His eyes burned with lust as he looked up from between your thighs, gauging your every reaction in the way you fluttered around his tongue.

With a trembling hand, you reached out and brushed your fingertips along his brow, skimming the stray pieces of hair that had fallen forward into his eyes. The intensity of his stare, the depth of his gaze, made you glow brighter even than that behemoth of a tree inside.

He sped up his movements, working you up, the tip of his tongue pointed to swirl in a pattern as magical as it was maddening, flicking it teasingly over your clit and making you clench with each too-quick pass. At the same time, you felt Eddie’s hand creep up between your shoulder blades, fingers weaving into your hair to grasp it at the root. He gave it a firm tug and pulled your head back, bringing his lips to your ear so he could whisper to you—deep and rough and just loud enough for Steve to hear.

“Why don’t you tell him how long you’ve wanted this, huh?”

Another pitiful whimper left your lips as Eddie’s other hand squeezed a little more intensely at your chest, tweaking your nipple through your dress, loving how it made you tremble.

“Si-since Junior year,” you panted. “When he w-won the state swim meet…”

Just the thought of that day nearly has you flooding Eddie’s lap and Steve’s mouth. Your mind filled with the memories of it—visions of him in a Speedo that confirmed just about every rumor you’d ever overheard in the girl’s locker room; his arm and back muscles rippling as he pushed himself out of the pool; water spilling over freckled skin, droplets collecting on his shoulders and running down, down, down to where the small of his back met the fullness of his ass.

You had sat in the stands, thighs pressing together, feeling almost perverted staring while he celebrated with his teammates and whipped off his swim cap, his wild hair exploding out of it and making you wonder how he’d even managed to fit it all underneath in the first place.

The mere mention of his glory days seemed to have a similar effect on Steve. The movements of his tongue and lips turned more fervent, more determined to unspool you as he moaned like he’d never tasted anything as good as you.

Tremors began to roll through your body, making your thighs twitch and spasm.

“Tell him how good it feels,” Eddie husked, hips now punching up to create some friction against his own cock as it strained inside his dress pants. “Tell him how much you like it.”

“Yes, Steve, fuck—I love it so much,” you whined. “Keep going, I need it.”

The pretty lilt and waver of your voice had Steve unraveling before your very eyes. Another low groan rumbled from deep in his chest and he buried his face further, more eagerly, in your heat.

“God, you taste so fucking good, honey,” he moaned. “I could do this all night.”

The thought of having his mouth on you all night is enthralling, but there was no way you would last. You were barely going to make it another minute as it was. Steve was too good. 

Every flick, every swipe, every swirl of his tongue you could feel in your entire body. Pleasure rushed across you in waves, a torturous winding upwards, that burning feeling deep in your gut coiling tighter, tighter. Your breaths grew shallow and your pulse raced until you were shaking in Eddie’s lap, fighting so hard to keep your legs spread apart that they shook from the effort.

Steve’s hands came up to grasp at your thighs, his fingers squeezing at the meat of them as he kept you pried open for him to ravish. Like a man possessed, he lapped and sucked and kissed at your entrance, his whole body seeming to move along with the motions of his tongue and lips. Beneath you, the wicker couch suddenly slid backwards and you realized it was because he had tried to grind against it—desperate to feel something, anything, against his cock.

Wishing it was you.

“C-close, close, I’m so close. Steve, I’m co—oohhh—”

Your orgasm rushed in, plowing through your body, making you lose all sense. You squirmed wildly in Eddie’s lap, almost having forgotten he was there until he reached around to give both of your nipples one last pinch—knowing how it always pushed you further over the edge.

Steve’s lips never left your clit and his eyes never left your face as he ushered you into your climax. He stared up at you, his eyes all glassy and round, searching for your reassurance as he rose from between your legs. His face hovered in front of yours and he lifted a hand to cup your jaw, his massive palm warm on your flushed skin as you panted to regain your breath.

“Good?” he asked. Hushed, like a prayer.

“So good,” you exhaled, chest still heaving. Your voice wobbled as you spoke, so overwhelmed with all your buried feelings being dredged to the surface. “Steve, that was—”

“Steven, honey? Are you out here?”

Every hair on Steve’s head went flying as he whipped his head around hearing his mother’s voice. Through the sheer curtains, he could see her as she stepped outside onto the porch, peering into the darkness, wrapping a fur stole tighter around her elegant cocktail attire.

Panic struck his face like lightning, his mouth hanging open, his lips and chin still shiny with your spend. He looked back at you, his cheeks nearly as deep red as the velvet ribbons hung all over his house. You scrambled off Eddie’s lap to stand, frantically straightening your dress and hair, nervously wiping at your lips that were swollen from biting down when you came.

“I, um…the party’s probably over,” Steve said. “I just have to say goodbye to some people.”

He ran his hands through his hair a few more times as he strode towards the door, even though any damage you’d done grabbing it must have been righted by now. You looked over at Eddie, your own eyes swirling with questions you were terrified to hear the answers to.

His shoulders bounced, standing to tuck his shirttail back into his dress pants.

“Well, that’s one way to do it.”.

Steve was waiting in the foyer with you and Eddie’s coats when you snuck in from outside. His parents, thankfully, were too occupied giving the caterers instructions for clean-up to exchange any pleasantries at the door. You could only imagine how that would go…

Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Harrington. I’m the girl your son made come all over his face in your pool house. What a lovely party, thank you so much for inviting us.

There was still a smile on Steve’s face, though it felt almost pasted on now compared to his expression when you first arrived, sort of forced in an attempt to look more normal than he felt. He handed off Eddie’s leather jacket and then held yours open, his eyes remaining glued to you as you turned and pushed your arms through the sleeves. His fingertips trailed along the nape of your neck as he helped straighten the coat on your shoulders, his index tracing its curve all the way to your hairline in a way that felt so intentional it made your skin buzz.

With your ears pounding from your heartbeat thundering in them, you spun around to face him, your lips parted to speak only for no words to come. Because what was there for you to say? Or for him to do? Kiss you? He hadn’t even done that during, would he do it now to say goodbye?

Steve’s handsome face was as conflicted and contorted as your own. A faint blush still dusted along his cheeks and his eyes shone bright from the candlelight coming off the tapers that had burned almost all the way out. At last he drew a breath, and you felt your heart stutter.

“Thank you for coming,” he said softly.

Eddie could barely contain the snort that burst out of him, even as he slapped a hand over his crooked smile and your eyes shot daggers straight into his chest.

You couldn’t get out the door fast enough.

There was only silence as the pair of you trudged along the driveway to the street where Eddie had parked his van, the snow on the ground having melted into slush mottled with gray where it mixed with excess oil on the road. Without the glow of the Christmas lights coming off the rest of the houses in the neighborhood, the darkness of Steve’s street now felt oppressive. 

It made you walk a little quicker to the van, your hand curled tight around the passenger side door handle waiting for Eddie to unlock it. As the two of you climbed inside the cab, he cranked the engine and flipped open the air vents for the heat to blast, finally breaking his silence as you yanked your door shut behind you with a sharp tug.

“Look, I’m sorry. Okay? I thought I was helping,” Eddie muttered, his hands gripping tight around the steering wheel. “You were being so fucking obvious, I thought you needed a push.”

His chunky rings glinted in the street light as he busied himself messing with the radio, static scratching in your ears as he searched for something besides Christmas music.

“Are you really mad?” he asked, still fiddling with the dial, barely able to look at you. 

You shook your head.

“I just…I don’t know, I feel like it’s weird now.” You let your face fall into your hands and shook your head furiously. “I mean, was that totally fucked up? To do that?”

“Nah, that wasn’t fucked up,” Eddie said assuredly. 

He sounded confident enough that you let your shoulders actually relax and finally expelled the breath you were holding. The relief was short-lived though, when Eddie piped up again.

“I’ll tell you what might be, though.”

With a heavy sigh, you looked over at him warily. “What?” you asked.

Eddie sighed as he slumped back against the seat. His foot rested on the gas pedal and he pressed it down lightly, barely revving the engine to get some hot air flowing from the vents.

“When he comes over for Christmas Eve.”

Thank you so much for reading, I appreciate any time taken to read/comment endlessly ♥️

Started on this last year in December so that should tell you everything you need to know about my writing process. Enjoy some Christmas in whatever-month-you’re-reading-this. 😉

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson one shot #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic

[55sturn]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ BACK TO YOU

↳ masterlist!

↳ summary: in which no matter where they are in life, chris and y/n find their way back to one another, despite knowing that it never really works, until day he gives in and stops fighting what he knows is meant to be.

↳ pairings: chris sturniolo x fem!oc, reader x unnamed male!oc, chris sturniolo x fem!reader

↳ warnings: swearing, angst (a whole lot of it), verbal arguments, chris and y/n are toxic, implications of chris cheating, fluff if you squint, suggestive implications.

↳ author's note: loosely based off everytime by ariana grande!

THIRD PERSON POV

in every culture and every religion, there is some sort of evidence of soulmates existing. the person your soul is forever tied to, setting you up for heartbreak along the journey looking for that one person. love is at the root of the structure of every belief system. the person that has been so perfectly tailored to your heart and soul, meant to love you in the ways you spend your life searching for.

look up: invisible string by taylor swift, for a beautiful depiction of a soulmate inspired love song.

the only issue with having a soulmate, is that nine out of ten times, you don't know who your soulmate is. which often leads to you spend hours upon hours and years upon years searching for them, inevitably experiencing various stages and forms of heartbreak in hopes that once you do find your soulmate, your forever person, they are able to heal and fix you.

but in chris and y/n's love story, them healing each other wasn't always the case. they were the fairytale from hell, they were a wrongful depiction of soulmates, two souls tethered together by an invisible red string that who, instead of loving each other, had a tendency to tears each other's hearts into millions of pieces each time they tried to love one another.

they were two souls so delicately similar that it caused them nothing but pain and frustration. they loved one another in the wrong ways, but they were determined to make it work, albeit at the wrong times.

PRESENT TIME

chris sighed as he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, with a quick roll of his eyes, he fished the thin device out of his pocket, knowing full well who was texting him as he made his rounds through the crowd of friends and acquaintances at the party he attended.

groaning, her named flashed again in his notifications, he hovered his thumb over the text before pressing down, begrudgingly opening the conversation he had wished hadn't started, despite deep down wanting her to reach out to him.

IMESSAGE TEXTS BETWEEN CHRIS AND Y/N

Y/N: guess u forgot to tell me that u and ur new bitch of the week would be here🤣

CHRIS: don't start tonight y/n

Y/N: i'm just shocked is all, didn’t think she’d fuck with these ppl just by looking at her

CHRIS: "she" has a name, y/n

CHRIS: it’s gianna

Y/N: you act like i give a fuck

Y/N: it’s nice to see you tho

CHRIS: please y/n, aren’t you tired of this shit?

CHRIS: you and i don't work, we literally never fucking do

CHRIS: and i really like this girl

Y/N: if you genuinely mean that, why are you spending so much time explaining it to me? sounds like you’re just tryna convince yourself that you feel that way.

Y/N: but if it’s real, then i'm happy for you, it's just weird that you and i aren't here together.

chris rolled his eyes at her second to last text, the way she could see right through like he was made of glass, even through a text, was something he’d never be able to understand. or run away from. there was never any sense in him even trying to lie to her, she could read him like a book. and chris was her favourite book, she would read that book ten times over in one sitting if she could.

but chris willed up all the self control he had in his entire being to not seek out the girl he's loved since he was a tiny boy in middle school. he told himself that it was done for good. that's the thing with playground love, it doesn't always last for ever and ever and chris was finally starting to accept that.

he pocketed his phone and forced himself to look for gianna, his eyes briefly meeting y/n's as she spoke to some random influencer, the smile on her face not reaching her eyes as she focused on the boy in front of her. he soon spotted the girl he arrived with, her hand flirtatiously resting on vinnie's bicep as he spoke to her. with a less than enthusiastic scoff, he downed the rest of the drink in his cup and turned around, walking in the opposite direction toward the girl he called home.

once he was in earshot, he smirked to himself as she pawned her cup off onto the poor boy fighting for a chance with her in front of him. once she waved him off with a bittersweet smile, she turned back to chris. she tutted playfully as he rolled his eyes, her hand reaching up toward the back of his neck, pulling him flush against the front of her body.

"what happened to "i really like her"?" she chuckled, her arms wrapping around his neck as his hands fell to her waist, pulling her into a hug, his lips meeting her jaw as he sighed.

"vinnie got to her and she was all over him." he spoke against her skin as her nails gently scraped against his scalp, bringing him down from his emotional high as his shoulders slumped in her arms.

"wanna get out of here? go for a walk?"

"nah, m'tired and just wanna go to bed, you crashing at mine?"

"of course." she spoke, her hand slipping into his as they walked toward the door, nick and matt meeting them there soon after chris texted them, neither of them surprised to find chris leaving with y/n instead of his girlfriend.

"i'm so happy you're here y/n, chris is a different man when you're not around." nick snorted, climbing into the seat behind matt as y/n sat behind chris, his hand slipping between the two front seats as her fingers threaded through his again.

"i'm glad to be back for however long chris needs me to be." she whispered, her words cutting deep into chris' heart, knowing that she wouldn't be around permanently, their dynamic and ways of communicating only allowing them to be together for a short period of time. they’d spend most their days tangled in chris’ sheets, professing their undying love for one another, knowing very well their time would be ending once again, and that it’d end soon.

they found that while they loved each other so deeply, they showed it in all the wrong ways. instead of gentle and soft spoken words, their love for one another was reminded in the clashing of teeth and tongues during heavy make-outs, and wandering hands with their nails digging into the soft flesh they roamed.

their rekindled romance was once again called off when chris' girlfriend, gianna, had come back into his life a week later, apologizing for her behaviour and explaining that she had been a fan of vinnie's for a long time and the fan girl in her caused her to make questionable decisions.

with a meek smile and a backhanded comment about chris’ infidelity, y/n packed her bags and moved out of chris' room sadly bidding matt and nick a brief "see you later", which left them sighing as they were no stranger to watching y/n move in and out of the house a couple times every few months.

it wasn't long before chris had found himself missing the girl that knew him inside and out, that knew his heart like the back of her hand. a month after gianna came back, spewing excuses upon excuses, chris had broken up with her, claiming that his heart would forever belong to someone else and he couldn't bear to put her through the pain of not loving her the way she deserved to be.

chris knew that he should take this grace period and be alone instead of running back to the girl he always did, but he knew she was it for him, no matter what. he didn't understand why they couldn't love each other properly. he always looked at it in a way where they had too much love for one another and they just didn't know what to do with it.

he tossed and turned in his bed, his thoughts unrelenting and holding his ability to sleep hostage as his phone read 3:32 in the morning. groaning he unlocked his phone, his thumbs maneuvering their way to her conversation from muscle memory at this point before typing out a quick couple messages.

IMESSAGE TEXTS BETWEEN CHRIS AND Y/N

CHRIS: y/n come home

CHRIS: please

CHRIS: i cant sleep without you

CHRIS: i love you in a way that makes it hard to love anybody else

CHRIS: you are like a drug that i cant go without, you're deadass my soulmate bruh and i'm done denying that. you are the only person i want. the only that actually knows who i am, inside and out. the only person that can make me feel good the way you do. i want you. no more fighting it. we’re meant to be.

Y/N: i'll be there in 10.

every time y/n fell back into chris’ arms, it felt devastating and bittersweet. this time, it felt right. it felt like they had finally found solid ground and that the had found the way they were meant to be together. there was definitely some uncertainty about the longevity of their relationship overall, but they learned over time that they need to communicate. whether they stayed together or not for the final time, there was no doubt that they would always be intertwined in each other’s hearts.

↳ taglist: @dylsdunbar @soursturniolo @4sturns @sturnsclutter @spencerstits @meanttomeet @bluesturniolo333 @graciereid @abbie13sworld @ghostofbrock @l9vesick @mylifeisevenstranger @bethsturn @ifilwtmfc @verosivy @themattgirl @lovingmattysposts @lacysturniolo @freshsturns @forevergirlposts @sturniolo-fav-matt @cupidsword @strawberrysturniolo @lustfulslxt

© 55STURN 2024 [ you do not have permission to copy or save or share my work to other platforms and devices! ]

#Spotify #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x fem!reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x oc #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo oneshot #christopher sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo x fem!reader #christopher sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo x oc #christopher sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo imagine #christopher sturniolo oneshot #sturniolo triplets

[carlyraejepsans]

UT fic recs? For the poor and bad at fic searching

world comes pouring through - (1.6k words, Gen)

Alphys reunites with some old friends on the way home from taking care of business.

Really good Alphys character study. One of those fics you could slot into canon with next to no resistance.

White Crayon - (9k words, Gen)

Despite living in Snowdin for months, Papyrus still feels like an outsider. An invisible barrier stands between him and the sense of community he craves. His brother tells him to be patient, but Papyrus would rather take matters into his own hands. Sans tries his best to understand.

Pre-canon, pre confidence spike Papyrus centric. Good angst and bros miscommunicating. Struck a bit close to home tbh. Seeing Papyrus before his bravado might be a bit jarring, but the interactions between the brothers more than made up for it to me personally. I really, REALLY enjoyed the way Sans is written here. Biscia stamp of approval.

the whirlwind world of on-line e-love - (1k words, Gen)

“My idea! My amazing idea. It is very amazing. Has your kinglitudeness ever heard of—”

Papyrus paused, then beckoned Asgore close. When he drew near, bony phalanxes were cupped at his ear, and Papyrus said in a dramatic stage whisper: “Have you ever heard of dating?”

I'm not sure if the author is ever going to turn this into a full fledged story, but even as a vignette it is extremely fucking funny.

When Life Hands You Enantiomers - (2.7k words, T)

Alphys has a half-finished tile maze puzzle, reams of useless data, and a bunch of piranhas that can't tell the difference between lemon and orange scent.

Sans has donuts.

Can't believe i only just recently discovered this one. Some of the most well-written Sans and Alphys friendship shenanigans I've ever seen.

Welcome to Night Tale - (5.7k words, unrated)

Welcome to Night Vale.

Today's top story: a community of monsters have joined our town as our newest residents.

Probably my favorite crossover fic idea of all time. Formatted like a WTNV episode, has segments both with AND without the monsters. Marked as incomplete (I'm assuming the author wants to eventually add new vignettes) but the final chapter is a special segment about Chara, Frisk and Flowey that is so flooring and clever it ties the entire work together perfectly either way.

#answered asks #this being my catch as i reach the *checks hand* 165th page of out 2767 in the main ut fandom tag on ao3. in reverse alphabetical order #underfic #undertale #alphys #papyrus #sans #ur welcome

[anonymityisfunwriter]

CONGRATS ON THE MILESTONE!!!!!!!

i’m so happy you’ve captured the audience you deserve with all the stories you’ve shared with us

you never let me down with anything. now, i don’t typically read sam wilson romantic fics (i love him platonically), but your midnight rain fic truly had my heart in pieces, i adored the way you wrote everything and the flash backs that tied it all together. solid 5 stars from me <3

now, as for a possible request / idea, i’m obsessed with a classic “who did this to you?” / “who did this” protective fic with bucky - or anyone really. romantic or platonic, it’s a favourite of mine and i’m sure that i’d love any way you wrote it – if you chose to write that, no pressure at all i just love you

an: i would gladly write anything for you. ily, bestie, and thank you so, so much 🥹

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Anon's 1K Celebration | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Who Did This To You?

this made me think of irrationally overprotective bucky barnes. the one who threatens men that stare at you a little too long. the one who wouldn't have a single qualm about killing someone for hurting you, even if you're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself.

you’re not together. it doesn’t matter what anyone thinks, you’re really not.

you’re just close. sometimes, a little too close.

but you're not together. no, you're definitely not together.

so after a long, exhausting, disaster of a mission, you're not thrilled to be sitting in the medbay with your team mates not so gently suggesting that you need to tell bucky.

"he's going to be pissed," sam warns.

"occupational hazard," you grunt, holding the ice pack to your throbbing temple. "he's just going to have to deal."

"so you don't deny that he's gonna be pissed?"

you roll your eyes, "no one likes when their friends get hurt."

sam shrugs, "friends, bed buddies, a couple, same shit, different font."

you groan at him, hissing as you accidentally put a little too much pressure on your temple, "don't you have to go annoy anyone else?"

sam looks down at his watch and hums, "not until 4."

there isn't a warning when bucky bursts through the door, rage rolling off of him in waves. his darkened eyes flash over to you.

"you know, on second thought, i did have that other thing to go do, so, uh, bye!"

bucky's chest heaves for a reason that has nothing to do him running down here. he stalks over to you, making no attempt to hide his eye raking over you head to toe.

"buck..." you sigh.

he stands before you, and without a word, he grips your chin, angling it to the side to see the full injury.

you suck in a sharp breath, you've never seen him this upset. his nostrils flare as he breaks his silence. "who did this to you?"

"bucky," you admonish. it wasn't even that bad. you took the butt of a rifle to the temple, leaving a nasty bruise and knocking you out momentarily. thankfully, sam was there to assist. it looked much worse than it felt.

he grips the back of your neck, his breath coming out in pants, "i want a name. now."

you rest your hand against his chest. you can feel his heart hammering against his ribcage, "it’s fine. mission’s over. it’s done."

"fuck no," bucky growls. "someone gave my girl -"

"your girl?" you rasp.

one hand still gripping the back of your neck, bucky's other vibranium hand comes to lift your chin to meet his gaze. your shiver has nother to do with the cool metal. bucky's breath skates across your gaped lips, "no one touches what’s mine."

AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Anon's 1K Celebration

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez@ludicbouquetfromearth@matchat3a@famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff@valoraxx@blue786sworld@buckyandgeraltsupremacy@geminigengar@ansaturn@ecolle@lexhalstead3@ybflkmj@mediocre-daydreams@shanye1112@thegirlnextdoorssister@toomanyfanficsbruh@moonlightreader649@breathtaking-cynthia@mirikusashes@beans-and-toast@niyahcoca@katiechikin@elxvrr@antiheroxsblog@infamouslyclumsy@krissydclayton93@buckysbarne@deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic@whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @buckybarnessimpp @withyoutilltheendoftheline

#anonymityisfunwriter #anonymityisfun #anon's 1k celebration #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #reader insert #x reader #marvel fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky angst #bucky x female reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky #bucky fic #bucky fluff #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes au #bucky x you #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff

[murdrdocs]

(this isn’t a req i’m just throwing an idea at ur head the way one would one of those sticky jelly hands at a wall bc i need to get this idea out into an internet void) i luuuuv the idea of finnick trying to be all cool for a district 4 mentor that’s maybe a year-ish older than him like a puppy crush. maybe they won the games the previous year at 15 or something and he’s like omg wouldn’t that be sooooo funny if we held consecutive victories and then also held hands ahahahah omg what if u promise me a victory date ahahahahaa 👀….. puppy love that becomes a capitol favourite ship (when katniss n peeta debut their love story the capitol viewers are like ugh they’ll never be the real same district young loveOTP)

oh my god this is so cutesy

like finnick sees them around the town and he's suddenly finding a flower that they have to have or maybe he's showing off some fucking net he just tied or something. headcannon that young finnick was one of those boys who go fishing and show off the fucking massive fish they caught so he's always making sure they somehow either hear about it or catch a glimpse.

they're neighbors, too, and finnick constantly tries to find ways to go to their house. suddenly his family's out of sugar. or his mother cooked too much (finnick just ate a little). or something so he can knock at the door and impatiently rock on his heels until he sees their face.

then they're in the capitol at the same time, just separately. but they have the same escort, and they won the games back to back, so it makes perfect sense that their trips are combined, right? it makes total sense that they go to parties together and dinners together, right? and it's perfectly normal and mundane and platonic when they suddenly have a free schedule on the last day and finnick casually suggests they go shopping and see a play and grab dinner, right?

#celeste's chats #this is cute #finnicksworld! #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick odair fluff

[yelena-bellova]

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine: People Watching

Plot: The Greyhounds take another hit in Amsterdam, and a night out brings about revelation and realization for Y/n.

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: language, discussion of child neglect

A/N: AMSTERDAM!! This is the one that really ties the whole thing together and sets up the rest of the series. I think it’s also my favorite so far. Very little of any other characters (sorry to my Jamie girls) but I promise it pays off ☺️

Enjoy!!

(Yes, this chapter is titled after the Conan Grey song. It fit too perfectly)

————————

The Amsterdam match, while not counting for anything, was a tremendous defeat.

The Greyhounds lost to Ajax, 5-0, unable to score a single goal against the Dutch. The boys hung on the field despondent, the home crowd booing and taunting them as loud as they could.

Y/n watched from the suite, seated between Keeley and Higgins, her eyes drifting across the crowd. Rivalry between fans had never bothered her, until Richmond had become her club. Now she was feeling every insult as if it were directed at her.

“Rebecca,” Marjolein, a high-up at AFC Ajax took the chair next to the blonde, “My apologies. Now, you’ve come all the way to Amsterdam and we at Ajax have been such rude hosts.”

The woman gestured to the scoreboard that the foursome couldn’t bear to do more than glance at.

“Marjolein, you’ve been more than gracious,” Rebecca replied, “Especially given the circumstances.”

The cruelty towards the Greyhounds had been particularly hard to handle because it all tied back to the golden boy. Zava. The signs, the banners, the cheers against them…without the prick, apparently AFC Richmond was worthless.

As the whistle blew, the match officially ended and the teams headed off the field. Y/n, Keeley, Higgins and Rebecca stood to their feet.

“Till next time,” Rebecca thanked and shook Marjolein’s hand. Keeley and Y/n followed suit.

“Truly was an honor to play here at the Johan Croyff Arena,” Higgins complimented.

Marjolein touched her hands to her chest, “No. The honor is ours completely. But it is pronounced Johan Cruijff.”

“Oh,” Higgins nodded, “Still.”

Left to themselves, the foursome listened to the stadium chant the words to Three Little Birds as it played over the speakers. Salt in the wound that was still actively bleeding.

“This song’s depressing,” Rebecca muttered before downing the last of her champagne.

Higgins gagged, his tell-tale sign that he was uncomfortable. Y/n put her hand on his shoulder and took it upon herself to lead the group out. When the boys came off the pitch, her job began.

Higgins, Keeley and Y/n went to the locker room, the two women waiting outside as Higgins collected who they needed.

“I hate him,” Y/n complained, leaned against a wall, staring up at the bright florescent lights, “I hope a storm comes through and just wrecks that avocado farm.”

Keeley managed a snort while pacing the hall, she was tense about something other than the match.

Y/n peeked over at her boss, “You good?”

“Yeah,” Keeley said quickly, picking at her nails a little before she stopped in front of Y/n, “I have something I need to tell you.”

Barely opening her mouth to ask what it was, Y/n was stopped by Higgins emerging from the locker room, Jan Maas and Roy in tow.

“Let’s get this over with,” Roy grunted, walking alongside Higgins down the hall.

“If you’re gonna fire me,” Y/n looked back at Keeley, “Do it now.”

“No,” Keeley replied, hurrying to catch up, “It can wait.”

They stood to the side with Higgins as Jan Maas spoke in his native tongue, his tone surpassed the language barrier. The team were hurting.

Eventually, the interviewer turned to the coaching side. “And so, Roy Kent,” he began, “Don’t you think Richmond’s objectively poor performance is due to the fact that you’re nothing without Zava?”

Y/n inhaled, holding her breath after, “Here we go…”

“Who cares?” Roy replied, “It’s a fucking friendly. A friendly is a pretend match. This is a pretend conversation. You’re a pretend person with a pretend job. And I’m having a really hard time pretending to give a shit.”

If Zava didn’t give them enough headlines to clean up, Roy certainly did.

Will passed them in the hallway with armfuls of bags, whispering hellos to Keeley and Y/n, before Rebecca returned.

“Okay, a night out in Amsterdam it is,” she said quietly, “Let’s make the best of it. What’s the plan?”

“Ooh, I’m spoken for, I’m afraid,” Higgins replied, “It’s my first time in Amsterdam and I have a date with someone special in the red-light district.”

Rebecca, Keeley and Y/n watched their co-worker leave, staring in confusion.

“Nah,” they all said in harmony. There was no way.

“Just us, then,” Rebecca smiled at the two women.

Between the loss and her general stance on spending time together outside of work, Y/n already had her excuse prepared. “I’m exhausted,” she said, “I’m just gonna order dinner and turn in early.”

Keeley’s nervous smile returned as Rebecca turned to her expectantly, “I’d love to-“

“That’s a quick cancellation,” Rebecca replied.

“How’d you know I was gonna cancel?” Keeley asked.

“Because there’s a certain note in your vocal range that you only ever hit when you’re being preemptively apologetic,” Rebecca explained, glancing over to Y/n, “Am I right?”

Y/n scrunched her face at both her bosses, landing on Keeley. “Just a…little.”

“Come on,” Rebecca continued, “Out with it.”

“All right,” Keeley sighed, “Apparently, tonight is the best aurora borealis ever. Like it’s the aurora ‘boreal-iest.’ In Norway.”

Rebecca nodded understandingly while Y/n tilted her head. “How are you getting to Norway?”

Keeley ever-so-slightly shifted between feet, “And Jack and her plane are waiting for me at the airport right now,” she looked nervously to her employee, “That’s what I wanted to tell you.”

Y/n’s mouth opened and closed, her mind trying desperately to find words opposite to what she truly wanted to say. Keeley. Jack. Keeley and Jack. A thing. The boss and the boss-boss. What could go wrong? Everything.

Luckily, Rebecca spoke first. “Subtle,” she smiled at her friend, “And amazing.”

“Yeah, that’s,” Y/n’s total discomfort with the situation cut off the signal to her brain. She awkwardly made a fist and raised it, “Great. So great.”

Keeley was so in her own world, no doubt one that sat on a Dutch runway, she didn’t notice Y/n’s terrible performance.

“Go,” Rebecca nodded toward the end of the hall.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you,” Keeley grabbed Rebecca’s hands.

“Yes, you will,” the older blonde replied.

“Oh,” Keeley caught Jan Maas heading down the hall, interview completed, “Great job, Jan.”

“Yes, seriously,” Y/n added, “Thank you so much.”

The Dutch man smiled at the two and gave a wave.

“And, Roy,” Keeley called to her ex, “Thank you again for doing this.”

“Yeah,” Roy nodded, “Anytime.”

Keeley squeezed Rebecca’s arm, “I love you.”

“I love you,” Rebecca repeated.

“I love you,” Keeley grabbed Y/n’s hands, “And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Y/n forced a laugh, nothing was actually funny at the moment, and watched as Keeley ran down the hall, Norway bound.

Rebecca, having spent enough time with Y/n, could sense her unease. “What are you thinking this very moment?”

“I’m watching my career get blown up because of a stupid night sky,” Y/n grinned, her eyes following Keeley’s fluffy pink coat bounce up and down.

Roy left the interviewer, coming to stand between the two women. It gave him a prime spot to watch his ex-girlfriend bound out. “Where’s she going?”

“Somewhere that believes they deserve her,” Rebecca replied, letting the thinly veiled comment smack Roy. She touched Y/n’s arm in goodbye before leaving the same way Keeley had.

Y/n let out a sigh, her and Roy turning to one another in silent resignation over separate matters. Y/n’s eye caught on the poster beside them, her face shifting with disgust.

Zava.

Roy turned and faced it, a small shrine to the legend’s short stint at AFC Ajax, and pounded his fist against it. It fell to the floor where Roy promptly landed a few kicks before casually walking off.

Y/n looked down the hall to where the interviewer was still filming, watching in shock as Roy stalked off.

“We’ll pay for that,” Y/n smiled.

“No, we won’t,” Roy called out.

Sneering once more at Zava’s arrogant grin, Y/n marched off toward the exit, ready for the day to be over.

—————————

Of course, by the time she got back to her hotel, it was barely 6PM. There was a whole evening to kill.

Y/n ordered room service, snacking as she scrolled the social media reactions to the match. When it became fruitless trying to find anything positive, she set her phone down on her nightstand and grabbed the tv remote instead.

She flipped between stations, finding most of the programming to be in Dutch. Eventually, she settled on the hotel’s channel that showcased their amenities and the city’s activities.

Y/n dropped the remote in shock, “Oh my gosh.”

With a Dutch overdub, a very out-of-fashion Keeley described some feature the hotel rooms had.

Y/n laughed, covering her mouth as she watched her boss over-exaggeratedly move around the screen. The sight was bringing her thoughts on Keeley back around to a more positive place.

It was eating at her, though, Keeley and Jack. Both of them were perfectly lovely, and Y/n had been witness to their natural chemistry. But dating the person that financed your company? That could decide at the drop of a hat to pack you up and dissolve everything you’d worked for?

Not that Jack would do that. Y/n reminded herself that the woman was level-headed and genuinely believed in Keeley’s vision. But there was always the great big “…what if?”

Y/n ran a hand through her hair, sitting on the edge of her bed. How could anyone be comfortable taking such risks with their career?

Deciding that she’d spiral if she stayed in her hotel room any longer, Y/n went to her suitcase and grabbed a change of clothes. She threw on her sweater and jeans, collected her wallet, phone and coat, and headed out the door.

She felt a twinge of guilt, telling Rebecca she was staying in and leaving the woman to fend for herself. But it wasn’t enough remorse to get Y/n to send a text.

Once she reached the lobby, she had to pass through the lounge to get to the exit. She quickly stepped back behind a wall when she spotted the entire team seated together, in deep conversation. Y/n couldn’t turn down another invitation, nor did she want to answer any questions, good-natured as they may be. She waited until a bellboy came through with a full luggage cart, hurrying alongside the suitcases that formed a perfect shield.

In the clear, Y/n stepped out into the evening air, inhaling deeply. She didn’t know where she was going, but she was going to enjoy herself. If nothing else, she was going to leave saying that she’d spent a night out in Amsterdam.

She wandered down to a busier part, not so stupid to think that as a single woman she could roam the city freely. In the more touristy section, there were buskers, much like in London. They provided a pleasant soundtrack as Y/n weaved through the crowds, searching for the first place she wanted to stop. Eventually, she spotted a street vendor, selling coffees and pastries, and decided that was as good as anything else.

Y/n walked until she found an empty bench, claiming it for herself. She ate her pastry, sipped her coffee and watched the crowd, listened to the chatter of the people passing by. There was something about being in a new city that electrified her, it was the same feeling she’d had when she’d first arrived in London. Everything was fresh and exciting and full of possibilities, even if she didn’t take any of them.

“And here-“

A familiar voice broke through Y/n’s thoughts. She traced it to find Jamie jogging down the cobblestone street.

“Is the most beautiful girl,” Jamie announced, running in place in front of Y/n and gesturing to her, “In all of Amsterdam!”

Spotting Y/n a grin, Jamie went on his way, leaving her laughing as he left. Ten seconds later, a well-worn Roy stopped to catch his breath.

Y/n smirked, knowing that Jamie was exhausting him. She lifted her leg to show her sneakers, “You want me to-“

“No,” Roy panted, keeping one eye on Jamie, “Don’t give him any more fucking energy.”

Roy took off once more after his protege. Y/n watched the two men disappear into the night, smiling and shaking her head.

With nothing else to do, she decided to call her sister. Her and Caylee had a standing catch-up each Sunday and she wasn’t going to miss it.

The dial rang twice before it picked up, “Hey.”

Y/n smiled at the sound of the familiar voice, “Guess where I am?”

“Where?”

“Sitting along a canal in Amsterdam, sipping a coffee, surrounded by people I don’t know.”

“Look at you,” Caylee cheered, “Being all spontaneous and shit.”

With a full mouth, Y/n laughed. “I mean, I knew I’d have the time. Not sure that counts.”

“Still, it’s good to know you’re out. You with anyone?”

“No,” Y/n said, watching one of the boats float down the canal, “Just me.”

Caylee’s silence was deafening, and predicted. By them both.

“So not your boss, who you said keeps inviting you places?” Caylee asked.

Y/n chuckled, “My boss is in Norway right now.”

“And not your other boss who, quite frankly, sounds fucking amazing?”

Y/n sighed, thinking of Rebecca’s earlier invitation. “She…had plans.”

“Not the coach who home invaded you to deliver fresh baked cookies?”

“No,” Y/n was starting to squirm under Caylee’s interrogation, “And they were biscuits.”

“And not the ridiculously hot footballer who’s basically just dropped himself in your lap?”

Y/n pinched the bridge of her nose. Jamie had texted her multiple suggestions on how to spend her night in the city. She’d felt bad ignoring them.

“It’s not-“

“Yeah, I know,” Caylee cut her off, “It’s not like that. That’s not the important part of what I’m saying.”

“What are you saying?”

“You��ve got all these people who are jumping to be around you and you keep pushing them away, and quite frankly, it’s kind of ridiculous.”

Her tongue poking her cheek in frustration, Y/n let her free hand fall to her lap. “Why is it ridiculous?”

“Because you’ve got no reason to be doing it,” Caylee said, no doubt with a shrug. Y/n was inhaling to argue back when she was cut off again. “You’ve got every reason to. I do too. Except these people actually want to be with you. They’re fucking proving it every Sunday night you call me and tell me how you had to dodge another invitation to a birthday party or another drink after a match…”

Y/n felt backed into a metaphorical corner, all too exposed. She kept searching for some comeback, some solid point to make, but couldn’t find one.

“It’s a lot more complicated than that, Caylee,” she said, trying to steady her voice.

“It’s really not,” her sister replied.

“Yes, it is,” Y/n’s tone jumped, “You make it sound like all I have to do is go out for a coffee with my boss and all my issues are magically solved.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Caylee, to her credit, didn’t drop her even tone.

“That’s exactly what you’re saying,” Y/n retorted, her brain and her mouth working at different speeds, “Y-you’re saying that I should— I-I should jus-just let them into my life and-“

“When are you going to stop punishing everybody else for what Mom and Dad did to us?”

Y/n’s breath caught in her chest and her stammers stuck to her throat. The truth could paralyze you like that.

Caylee didn’t speak, letting the question wash over her sister. Eventually, after watching someone self-destruct for long enough, subtlety was useless. Sometimes you had to hurt them to help them heal.

“I love you,” Caylee said softly, “But you deserve a better life than this. The only thing standing in the way…”

The sentence didn’t need to be finished. Y/n knew.

“You can hate me if you want.”

Y/n chortled, looking down at her coffee cup. “I’ve tried. Doesn’t work.”

Caylee hummed, her smile somehow vocalized as well.

“I love you,” Y/n returned, “And I’m…sorry. For everything.”

“Yeah, that’s another thing you need to stop doing,” Caylee pointed out, “Stop apologizing for our shitty childhood. You didn’t do anything.”

“Yeah, well, you’re my baby sister,” Y/n sniffled, trying to stop the tears before they’d even formed, “Bit of a habit, I’m afraid.”

“Hey, I turned out fine,” Caylee chuckled, “Boyfriend, job, friends…I’m happy. I just want the same for you.”

Y/n smiled, she was so proud of her sister. She’d built her own life, and had found an inner peace regarding their childhood that Y/n had yet to discover. She wasn’t envious, she longed to understand how Caylee had done it. How she seemed to be able to pack up their parent’s negligence in a box and stick it under her bed. It was all Y/n had wanted since moving to London.

“Well, not that this isn’t fun, getting a verbal finger wagging,” Y/n sighed, “But-“

“Go,” Caylee urged, “You’ll never be in Amsterdam again.”

Y/n furrowed her brows, “I might.”

A sisterly silence crackled between them.

“You’ll never be in Amsterdam again,” Caylee grinned, imagining her tightly-wound sister in a city of such debauchery.

Y/n laughed, “Probably not.”

“I love you,” Caylee repeated, “Really.”

“I love you too,” Y/n echoed, “I’ll call you Sunday.”

“I’ll be here.”

Without another word, the siblings hung up, returning to their corners of the world.

Y/n took a breath, looking down at her coffee as if it held all the answers. She couldn’t very well sit on the damn bench all night, not after that conversation. She needed to do something.

Amsterdam. Tulips. That made sense. She needed to see tulips in their native soil.

Y/n searched the map on her phone and found a nearby garden, less than a half mile’s walk away. She could do that no problem.

On the way over, her thoughts managed to leave her alone. The weight of what Caylee’d said hadn’t fully landed. Weaving between tourists and dodging the drunken ones was certainly enough to keep Y/n occupied. She could keep herself in semi-excitement about her destination.

Upon arriving and paying for admission, she found the gardens to be surprisingly quiet. It was close to closing time and a fair share of parties were heading out the way she was coming.

Y/n strolled through the greenhouse. She found the path to the outer section, the pebbles crunching under her sneakers as she followed the signs with floral markers. Her head stayed quiet.

The sprawling tulip patch was stunning. The marketplace ones Y/n had bought and placed in her kitchen window didn’t do the real thing justice. These bloomed with the kind of radiance that only came with being in the place they truly belonged.

Y/n tried to admire them, but had never been more aware of her solitude. There were families strolling past, couples gazing at the flowers, hand in hand. The bustle of the Amsterdam streets had melted away, the peaceful silence of the gardens provided no escape from one’s thoughts.

She’d been at Richmond four months, growing more and more pleased with the job each day. Except it wasn’t the work that made her happy. She didn’t get a pit in her stomach at the thought of exchanging emails with some sneaker company. She didn’t feel jolts of electricity down her fingers from scrolling Twitter to see how a press conference was received.

It was the matches that thrilled her. Sitting in the owner’s box at Nelson Road. Being squished between Keeley and Rebecca and Higgins. Watching the team run up and down the pitch. Cheering and screaming when one of the boys scored a goal. That was what made her happy.

The tears built as a supercut of moments played in Y/n’s mind. The team, inviting her out after nearly every match, genuinely disappointed each time she declined. Keeley, clawing and scratching her way into Y/n’s life, desperately trying to be a friend. Rebecca, as intimidating as she was, constantly praising Y/n on her talents, always encouraging her. Ted, offering time and time again to be there for her, to welcome her into their fold. Jamie, texting her a full fucking itinerary for a night he wouldn’t even be there for. Helping her find an apartment. Listening to her talk about her shitty childhood.

Being there for her.

They all wanted to be there for her.

And she was too fucking scared to let them.

Y/n sniffled, her eyes so blurred that the tulips turned to watercolor blobs.

“Ahem.”

She turned to her right, a grey haired man taking slow steps toward her, pulling something from his jacket.

“Here you go, dear” he said, offering her a handkerchief.

“Oh,” Y/n tried to collect herself, inevitably failing and taking the cloth, “Thank you.”

“No need,” the elderly man held up a hand, he spoke with a thick Dutch accent. “It is easy to recognize a broken heart.”

“Oh, no,” she denied as she dried her eyes. She tried to give a small smile, “I’m just a little lonely. It’ll pass.”

“Ah,” he came to stand beside her, facing the tulips, “I would not say that.”

Y/n stayed silent, sensing the stranger had more to say.

“Loneliness…it is like a warning. A wave lapping at the shores,” he smoothed his hand over the air, “It grows a little bigger, and it starts to hit the shore. And out in the distance, more begin to build. But still,” he shrugged, “No storm, no worries. It is simply a wave. Until the skies darken, and the storm shows up,” he moved his hand to simulate bursts of thunder and lightning, “And everybody is running and asking ‘Ahhh! How? How did this happen? Why did no one tell us this was coming?’”

Y/n smiled slightly as the man clasped his hands together, speaking higher for the imitation.

“And the storm says,” he cleared his throat, “‘I did tell you. The waves grew wilder and wilder, but it was of no concern to you. You laughed and continued on, saying that it was nothing...that it would pass.’”

Y/n clenched the handkerchief tighter in her fist.

“Loneliness is not to be isolated further,” the man mused, smiling grandfatherly at Y/n, “Rather, to be smothered in the company of good friends, a lover. Family.”

Whether he was an angel or a hallucination, the man was telling Y/n everything the part of her mind she didn’t listen to did. She’d hidden away all her life, terrified to let anyone in. The effort had finally beaten her. She was tired of the loneliness, tired of lying, tired of fending off the efforts of those who were already in her heart.

Y/n gave a watery smile, “You might be right.”

He smiled back, “Maybe.”

With a wink, he started back up the path he’d come.

“Wait,” Y/n held up the handkerchief, “You forgot this.”

The man looked back and waved a little, “Keep it. A little reminder not to be alone for too long.”

He went off then, Y/n watched him until he disappeared around a corner, feeling dumbstruck. Terrified. Relieved. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do, but her feet set off with such purpose, it didn’t matter if she knew. She was on the right track.

She ended up in the red light district, of all places. There was no one to call, each of the Greyhounds off on their own adventures, but Y/n was determined to be somewhere there was life. To do something. Not stand on the sidelines and pretend she had no desire to be in the middle of it all. A jazz club seemed like the perfect answer.

The establishment she decided on was busy, but not too crowded. She took cautious steps through, hoping she didn’t pick too rowdy of a place. Soft jazz played from the stage at the back of the smoky room. She was about to settle at the bar when she spotted the backs of two heads she knew quite well.

Walking up to the two men, Y/n tapped Higgins on the shoulder.

“Y/n,” he exclaimed, no doubt a little tipsy, “What are you doing here?”

“Just wandered in,” she replied, looking past him and giving a little wave to Will, “You mind if I join you guys?”

“Oh, please,” Will gestured to the table, jumping up from his seat to help Y/n into a chair.

“The more the merrier,” Higgins added before going back to playing the upright air-bass.

Y/n tried not to laugh, she’d never seen him off-the-clock. She suspected Will hadn’t either as the two of them caught each other’s eye, sharing a look of mutual amusement.

“Has he been like this all night?” Y/n asked.

“Uh, little bit, yeah,” Will answered, Higgins scatting in the background.

One of the women that had been playing on stage made her way down to the Richmond table, scrunching down to Higgins’ level. She raised her voice over the music, “Do you play?”

Higgins startled, stumbling over his words due to surprise and liquor. “Uh…um…”

Y/n smiled and turned to the woman, “He does.”

“Yes, he— Yes, he does,” Will was quick to follow, “He plays bass because Chet Baker- Chet Ba- Do you know who Chet Baker is?”

The woman smiled sweetly at Will.

“All right, okay,” he replied, settling back in his chair and looking to Y/n, reminding her of an excitable puppy.

“What do you say, Higgins?” Y/n asked, looking over at her co-worker.

He looked to be wrestling with an already made decision. Will patted him on the shoulder, urging him to accept the unspoken offer. Buoyed by his co-workers, Higgins scooted his chair back and followed the woman up to the stage. Will and Y/n cheered him on.

“We went to see where Chet Baker killed himself,” Will said, his grin didn’t quite match his words.

Y/n raised her brows, still smiling. “Well, that must’ve been fun.”

“It was,” Will replied, “What have you been doing?”

Higgins took hold of the bass, getting a feel for it before playing a complex intro to a song.

Y/n’s eyes never left the stage, “Nothing as fun as this.”

“Let’s get lost now!” Higgins called to the crowd.

Everyone let out a shout of approval, Will and Y/n’s the loudest, and the rest of the band kicked in. Y/n pulled out her phone and opened her camera app, she hit record just as the woman who’d pulled Higgins up began to sing.

As the song played, for the first time in four months, Y/n smiled so broadly, her cheeks hurt. When Higgins went into a solo, she grabbed Will’s arm and the two of them watched ecstatically. She felt like she’d come to an oasis in the middle of a desert, not even realizing how in need of water she was.

When the song ended, she was the first one to her feet.

—————————

The next morning, the Greyhounds were surprisingly sober aboard the Coach. They went about their separate conversations, waiting for the last of them to find their way onto the bus.

An unfamiliar pair of shoes slapped up the steps, drawing a couple of eyes upward.

Y/n stopped at the front of the bus, holding up a beanie.

“This,” she said loud enough to get all the player’s attention, “Is a collection plate. It will be sitting at the back of the bus, where at some point during the eleven hour drive back to our lovely nation, you will each place an unspecified amount of money which, in total, will amount to what we owe the hotel in damages to pillows,” Y/n held up a finger, smiling annoyedly, “And keep in mind, I do know your salaries. Give accordingly.”

There was a mixture of shame and amusement on the Greyhound’s faces, but no real regret. Nor was Y/n actually mad. She had questions, but she couldn’t stop herself from laughing when she came down to the lobby and saw Higgins doing damage control at the concierge desk over the feathery mess.

She made her way to the back of the bus where Ted and a very dressed-up Beard sat.

“Hey, stranger,” Ted greeted, looking up from his notebook, “How’d Amsterdam treat ya?”

“Alright,” she replied, looking at the empty spot next to Ted, “Do you…mind if I join you guys?”

Ted smiled, surprised but delighted. He knew if he said too much he might scare Y/n right back off the bus, “You kiddin’? Scoot your boot, c’mon.”

Sliding in beside him, Y/n exhaled against the plush seat. Will had already packed her bags in the luggage compartment and she’d texted Rebecca to let her know she wouldn’t be joining her on the jet back to London.

She finally got a full look at Beard’s ensemble. A big snout and pig ears, a glittery jumpsuit with silver platform boots, and an unmistakable blue and red lightning bolt painted across his face.

“I hate that I know what you’re going for,” Y/n remarked across the table.

“Don’t hate it,” Beard replied, spreading his hands, “Embrace it.”

Y/n chuckled before the cheering from the Greyhounds caught her ear. She glanced down the aisle to spot Rebecca making her way towards them.

“Hey,” she greeted.

“Hey, boss,” Ted added as Rebecca slid in next to Y/n, looking more relaxed than ever. “So, twelve unanswered texts, three un-haha’ed GIFs. We good?”

“I’m sorry, Ted,” Rebecca smiled, speaking slowly, “My phone is at the bottom of a canal.”

Ted pondered the answer, “Is that Keats?”

Rebecca shook her head, “Nope.”

“Well, I guess I didn’t need to send that text,” Y/n commented, “I won’t be on the plane home, by the way.”

Rebecca gave a breathy laugh, reaching over to pat Y/n’s hand. Out of character as all get out, but Y/n was happy to see her boss so…at peace.

“Hey, Will,” Ted called down to the kitman, “How we looking?”

“Uh, we’re two short,” Will answered, “Who’s missing?”

Y/n had clocked the missing presences the second she’d stepped on the bus. Being the closest to the window, she was the first to spot them, but she didn’t quite believe what she saw.

Jamie rode up beside the bus on a bike, Roy sitting behind him and hanging on with one arm slung round Jamie’s hips.

“You lovely people,” Jamie called out as Roy eagerly hopped off.

“Oh, this is gonna be good,” Y/n remarked.

“Don’t fucking ask,” Roy groaned as he came down the aisle, “Let’s go.”

Just as he’d taken his seat, Jamie jumped aboard, holding his fists in the air. “We saw a windmill!”

The Greyhounds cheered, high-fiving Jamie as he found a seat. He caught Y/n sandwiched between Rebecca and Ted, the two of them sharing a grin.

“You take my advice?”

Y/n shook her head, “Not a bit.”

Jamie clutched his chest, letting himself fall into one of the chairs. “I’m hurt,” he called over the chatter.

Rebecca slid her feet up onto the table, shutting her eyes as if she meant to go to drift off. This was the most relaxed Y/n had ever seen her, and she suspected the same went for Ted.

“Everything okay, boss?” Ted asked.

Waiting a moment, Rebecca responded with a tune that had had a much different meaning the day before.

“Don’t worry,” she sang, “‘Bout a thing. ‘Cause every little thing’s, gonna be all right.”

“Well,” Ted smiled, “I appreciate it.”

“Singin’ don’t worry,” Beard continued, singing back quite nasally, “About a thing.”

Y/n laughed, what else was there to do? She was watching a man in a David Bowie/swine get-up sing Bob Marley, and there was literally no place she’d rather be.

“‘Cause every little thing,” Rebecca sang along with Beard, “Gonna be all right.”

Ted chuckled alongside Y/n, “Ready for eleven hours of this?”

“Definitely,” Y/n nodded.

“Everybody!” Beard called to the bus before continuing the song, “Don’t worry…”

As she sang with the team, Y/n felt the four month old tension she’d been holding melt away. This was where she belonged, this was where she wanted to stay.

—————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @mentalistfan @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove

#ted lasso imagine #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fic #jamie tartt x reader #rebecca welton x reader #keeley jones x reader #ted lasso x reader

[kayentokk]

He Will Always Be There

-Pairing; Geto Suguru x Fem! Reader

-Synopsis; Your classic best friend love story, where the boy watches the girl date asses and then finally confesses. 

-Contains; slow burn(?), kisses, cheating, fluff, mutual pinning(kinda), friends to lovers, hurt comfort, Suguru being fine asf

-wc; 2k

-A/N; Honestly idek where I pulled this one from. Prolly cuz of all the JJK stuff goin on rn, and I really wanted to try writing one of those cliche tropes lol. 

You were throwing a party, fun right? Yeah no, you didn’t think you’d have to constantly check on the overly drunk college students who would always just barely make it to the bathroom in time. You also didn’t think that while ushering one into the bathroom you’d find your boyfriend, and some girl making out.  

At first when you looked up and saw the scene you were confused, but then you remembered the drunk girl and you really didn’t want her to like in your apartment. So you shooed them out the way and lifted the toilet seat for her too…you know.

You grabbed a hair tie off of your counter and tied her hair back for her, because girlie rules 101, and then made your way into the living room which was basically just a crowded sea of drunk people. You were so zoned out that you didn’t even hear your boyf-ex-boyfriend talking to you the whole time. You only became conscious when he made a grab at your arm.

“Babe, come on you know it wasn’t like that we were just-“

“Drunk?”

“Yeah babe, I promise, she doesn’t even mean anything to me,” just then the girl emerged from the bathroom.

“Really? Because that’s not what you said the last three times,” and with that she walked off.

You chuckled, not even knowing how to react at this point. You decided you’d had enough of this party. Ignoring your ex’s insistent babbling, you grabbed the microphone from the people doing karaoke. 

“HEY! Everybody! Attention, Attention please.”

When the room got quiet you stood on the table, and said the one thing that makes all college students scatter from a party. 

“My parents are surprise visiting tonight, so everybody out! Take your empty cups and throw them away! Take Ubers don’t drunk drive, and take all the food and snacks you want!” You said while the heard of students rushed out the door with all the food and snacks they could. 

Efficient, you thought. When you got down from the table you immediately went to cleaning up, completely ignoring your ex, who was apparently still talking. You were only a little tipsy but couldn’t help feeling annoyed and still zoned out.

“Listen,” you said cutting him off. “I don’t need to hear your “explanation,” okay? It’s simple, I didn’t put out so you found it somewhere else.”

“No I swear that’s not how-“

“Can you just go?”

“Babe-“

At this point you were about to loose your shit, why couldn’t he just fucking leave? Just then, saving you from your troubles, your best friend emerged from the bathroom holding the drunk girl, who was puking in your toilet, up.

He stood tall and brooding, with his all black get up on, over your now ex, “Listen man, a word of advice, I’d leave before she goes apeshit on you,” he said with a roll of his eyes.

It took your ex a minute to take in the sight. A lean but muscular figure in black sweatpants and a hoodie that had neon purple accents on the front, a clean shaved face with perfectly slanted piercing black orbs, and beautiful long flowing hair. When he finally got his thoughts together he responded.  

“Who the fuck are you? I can handle my girl-“

Before he could even say anything in response, you started laughing. Everybody’s head turned to you, even the drunk girl, because you seriously couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Get. Out.” Was all you said after you caught your breath, and that time he got the hint.

“We’ll talk about it! I’ll text you,” he said not getting the blatant message that you didn’t want to talk and that you guys were done. 

Just before he walked out the door though, your friend handed him the drunk girl with a gruff, “Make sure she gets to her dorm asshat.”

After they left, you sighed and continued throwing the empty cans into the garbage bag, and after a minute of watching you incessantly clean your friend grabbed the broom and started sweeping the floor. 

He didn’t ask you what happened, because he saw, and he didn’t make you talk about it, you would tell him soon enough when you felt like it. There wasn’t any uncomfortable silence between the two of you either. You didn’t have to constantly worry about what he was thinking, you didn’t have to not be yourself, and you didn’t have to worry about him dropping you for the “next best thing.” 

You liked that, It was peaceful, and he knew it. Deep down he’d do anything you asked of him, just to keep you happy. He did have to admit though it was killing him that he didn’t punch that asshole ex of yours, same with all of your other exes. 

Ever since you were old enough to date, it was like the classic boy best friend story, he watched you date people who weren’t good enough for you, you guys broke up, he swooped in to comfort you. This time though, he could tell something was different, you didn’t show any sign that something was wrong. Maybe you weren’t that upset-

As soon as he paused sweeping to think he heard it. Over the clanking of the trash in the garbage bag you were holding, he heard it and it almost ripped him to shreds from the inside out. You were sobbing, your body softly shaking, and your chest heaving. He’s seen you cry before, and it always hurt some part of him deep down. 

He makes his was over to you, long strides full of urgency and worry. You almost didn’t notice he had left his spot in the kitchen until he took the trash bag from your hand and set it down. He tugged gently at your arm until you turned to face him. Your pretty eyes all puffy and red, your nose sniffling to find breaths, and your plump lips merged into a pout. Even while crying he thought you looked pretty. 

He pulled you into his body, hands engulfing your back, while you sobbed with your face squished into his hoodie. Somewhere along the way he had brought you into your bathroom and propped you up onto the counter. 

Finally pulling your head out of his chest you noticed the tear stains and shiny lip gloss that was smeared into it. 

“M’sorry Sugu, your hoodie s’all messed up now.”

He just gave you a slight smile while grabbing the makeup wipes from the cabinet behind your head. 

God, he must think you’re so pathetic, constantly having to clean up after you and always having to reassure you. That must get so tiring, especially because you’re constantly dating fuck-boys who don’t really care about you and when those relationships end…well, this happens. 

You’re slightly tipsy when you ask, so you’ll just blame it on the cheap liquor later but you really wanted to know, “Sugu, why are you still here?”

Because, that’s what friends are for.

“Because I was helping you clean,” he says feigning ignorance while wiping off the remnants of your smudged makeup.

“No like, like- here” you were getting frustrated, the words weren’t coming out correctly. He knew what you meant though. 

“Because,” he gruffly replied. 

I want to be here for you. 

“Because?”

I care about you.

“Because.”

I love you. 

“S’not and answer,” you said with a pout.

“Why not?”

“Because, it’s just not.”

A low rumble came from him then, and when you saw he was laughing at your response, you couldn’t help but laugh too. 

When he was done you hopped off the counter and walked into your room collapsing on your comfy carpet. Your arms and legs were spread out like a starfish, you looked silly.

“What are you doing?”

You didn’t respond, just scooted over and patted the spot next to you. He reluctantly laid down next to you. His arms propped up behind his head gazing up at your bedroom ceiling. It was pretty at night, because of the cute stars and constellations lighting your ceiling. 

After a while you broke the silence.

“Sugu?”

“Hm,” he grunted turning his head to face you.

“Promise you’ll always stay?” It felt like a stupid question. People break promises all the time, you knew that first handedly. So you’ll blame it on being tipsy again. 

To Geto the answer to that question was obvious, of course.

“Who else would help you clean up after all these ragers you’re throwing?” He said in a joking manner. 

You wanted to throw a fit about how that’s not what you meant and he knew it, but in a way you knew what he meant. So you were content with his answer. 

“The stars on my ceiling are dimming, you’ll have to help me replace them again, it’s such a shame because they’re so pretty.”

“Yeah, such a shame, so pretty.” 

You turned onto your side facing him, but he was already looking at you. You swear you saw his eyes sparkle at that moment, and you started into a fit of laughter. 

“What? I got somethin’ on m’face?”

“No,” you said through giggles and when you finally calmed down you said without thought, “I love you.”

You shocked yourself, maybe you weren’t just tipsy, maybe you were more drunk than you thought. A slight gasp came out of your mouth and your hands immediately went to cover it. Geto’s pupils dilated and an unreadable look crossed his face.

With the countless thoughts running through your head, the main one was why the fuck did I just say that? You can’t exactly blame this one on being drunk. 

You hurriedly sat up and turned to him, “I-I mean in like a best friend way you know? Cuz like friends say that to each other, of-of course I don’t expect you to say it back or anything like that I just was-,” you nervously rambled on. 

When you stopped, you noticed he too was sitting up now and way closer to you. When did that happen? 

You cleared your throat and just gave a final, “I’m sorry-“ but before you could finish his lips were on yours. 

It was a slow, tender kiss. His soft lips on your plump previously glossed ones was the perfect mix. When he pulled away you almost followed, holding back a whine from coming out. 

“I love you too.”

Was all he said and you sat, one again, in comfortable silence. Just gazing at each other. You don’t know why you’ve never noticed before, the way he looked at you, but it’s apparent now. It’s apparent, and you couldn’t be happier. 

Except for now, all the thoughts are going through your head. What happens to us after this? What if we break up- well are we actually together? Does this ruin our friendship?

He could tell that lots of things were running through your head because you facial expression changed into one of worry. Trying to calm you he reached his hand up to your face and stroked your cheek. Your gaze was now back on him and you thoughts had ceased.

“What are you worried about?” He asked, quietly as if he couldn’t be any louder.

“Well, you’ve always been my friend….and now-,” you sighed frustrated. “Now, everything’s different..”

“Do you regret me kissing-“

“No! No, it’s just- most of my past relationships haven’t been the best…you’ve seen. Our relationship was the only one I could always count on…don’t you think it would be different?”

“Hmm,” he said pondering, “I see.”

“But- but I still-“

“I know,” he said removing his hand from the side of your face. “It would change our relationship quite a bit…”

He didn’t know what to say, all he could think was shit he fucked this up. He didn’t want to come on too strong, and he definitely didn’t want your relationship to be tarnished just because you started dating, did you even want to date him?

You quickly stopped his thoughts by saying, “but I want to try.” 

The silence was back, but this time it was full of relief. You guys didn’t know what the relationship would bring, or if it would even turn out the way you hoped, but you knew one thing. That Suguru would always be there. 

@/cafekitsune for the divider

#geto suguru x reader #geto suguru #geto suguru fluff #geto suguru x y/n #geto fluff #geto imagine #geto x reader #geto x female reader #suguru geto #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #anime #manga #fluff #hurt/comfort #Suguru x female reader

[marielle-heller]

idk, something about just having EVERYONE fitting together so perfectly without Ted (Dr. Sharon returning and Keeley finding a project to work with Rebecca on and of course Beard having come back, even Rebecca’s stranger fits back into it!!!! Sam is maybe the ONLY one to leave but for his own DREAM!) … it’s sad. it’s fucking sad. like having everyone be SO together just for Ted to return to his son and the woman who divorced him in part over his optimism… it’s REALLY fucking tragic jesus christ. the way he’s cut himself off from everyone he loves and who loves him except for his son he at most has shared custody of. his relationship with his mom is still iffy. he’s shown entering the same house as Michelle which raises TOO MANY UPSETTING POSSIBILITIES (most pathetic of which is he is staying there till he gets his own place, but nearly tied with the possibility that they’d somehow get back together and he’s back where he started). everyone is so joyfully together and Ted, the person who BROUGHT them together, who helped forge stronger relationships between the team and made Rebecca realize she cares about it doing well… he’s so fucking isolated from their joy. he’s forcibly removed himself. I really don’t think he’s doing well and I really think this is the saddest ending possible. he’s not even shown to be in touch with them in ANY manner and it’s just… has an ending ever been crueller to its main character? I get moving on but moving on to WHAT? it’s not clear how many friends he has in Kansas that he’s eager to get in touch with. what his career prospects are. I appreciate him wanting to be a good dad but Henry alone is not going to cure the ache in his heart and the borderline unaddressed alcoholism. and Ted deserved so much more happiness. he sometimes didn’t feel like the main character of his own show, and I think that’s really reflected in how much respect the story has for him here

#ted lasso #ted lasso spoilers #ted lasso discourse #ted lasso critical #I’M UPSET! #ted lasso is no longer a feel good comedy this feels like the end of a tragedy

[totallyboatless]

Having a moment of losing it over how fucking perfectly Ed and Stede are written to make *such complete fucking sense together.* Instantly, we’re made to realize why these two people would want to be around each other all of the time, why they’ll be great at cohabiting, why they have a relationship that’s going to last (once they figure their shit out lol)

So many love stories do “these two people are complete opposites and are constantly at odds but they want to fuck so they put up with hating each other i guess” or “these two people are carbon copies of each other and that’s why they work”

Ed and Stede have the perfect balance of both — they’re opposites in a lot of ways, but their passions are so similar, mainly that they’re both dramatic as fuck and like to approach life that way at every possible moment lol. But they also have the same sense of humor, the same love of little indulgences, the same instinct for tenderness.

It ties into the philosophy i’ve grown to believe more and more that when you’re looking for a partner, it’s way more important to like things the same way (even if they’re drastically different things) than it is to like all the same things but have drastically different ways of enjoying and interacting with said things.

The sexual and romantic tension between Ed and Stede is great and I’m very much looking forward to seeing that resolved, but I’m equally excited just to see them hang out again. They like each other SO MUCH and the writers (and performances) make it more clear than any other romcom i’ve seen in my life. I’ve never believed in a fictional relationship more.

#ofmd #our flag means death #blackbonnet #stedward #i won’t let go of using stedward i laugh every time

[rebelspykatie]

Soulmate AU Part Four 

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Five

The night of the date, Eddie is pacing beside his front door. Wayne is watching from his armchair with an exasperated look, having already told him to sit down or he was going to wear a hole in the carpet. He jumps when there’s a knock on the door and shoots Wayne a dirty look when he laughs. Before opening it, he grabs the flowers off the counter and takes a deep breath, attempting to settle his nerves.  

When he finally pulls the door open, he’s still wholly unprepared for Steve Harrington to be the one standing on his doorstep, eyes twinkling in the haze of the setting sun, hair perfectly coiffed and yellow sweater sitting snug around his torso. He holds out the flowers before Steve can even say hello. 

There’s a beat of silence where Eddie almost pulls them back, but Steve hesitantly reaches for them, holding them delicately in his hands. “You got me flowers,” he says with a hint of awe.

“My mama used to garden a lot before she died, and I remember sitting with her as she talked for hours about the meaning of all of these different flowers she was planting. I don’t remember all of them because it was so long ago, but I do remember what these mean.” 

It’s never easy talking about his mom, but it’s not as difficult with Steve looking at him like he understands the importance of Eddie divulging something so personal. There’s a hopeful look on his face that reassures Eddie he can trust Steve with every dark corner of his soul. They’re not there yet, but they’re headed in the right direction. 

He looks down at the yellow and white water lilies with a watery smile, “Mama used to always say that water lilies were about rebirth and enlightenment. A lot of cultures tied that back to purity and religion. But mama used to tell stories of nymphs leaving them around those they wanted to protect or claim.”

Steve ducks his head, burying part of his face in the flowers. “Are you the nymph in this scenario?”

“If it means staking my claim, then yes.” A triumphant trill courses through him when Steve blushes. “I know the universe already did that for me, but I wanted to show you I mean it. I want to start over and actually give this a shot.”

“I want that, too.” Steve looks back at his car. “Maybe we can leave these here, though. I don't want them to get ruined sitting in the car.” 

It takes a few minutes to find something to leave them in. The Munson’s aren’t big flower people these days, but soon enough they’re on their way, Wayne shooing them out the door. Steve hasn’t told Eddie where they’re going, but it’s somewhere outside of Hawkins. 

As they exit the city limits, Eddie's nervous chatter has died down a bit. Steve quietly says, “I didn’t think you would be into flowers or any of that romantic shit.” 

“Just because I look mean and scary, doesn’t mean I don’t believe in love. I was just as excited as you were to get my soulmate mark.”

“Why were you so scared to tell me?”

“My own stupidity, I guess.” Eddie shrugs. “Things never worked out long term for any of the Munsons when it comes to soulmates. My mom died young and my dad fucked off after that, not wanting to raise someone that was a living reminder of what he lost. Wayne’s died in Vietnam. I wasn’t hopeful that mine would work out when it was the most popular guy in school’s name on my arm.”

Steve holds out a hand across the center console of the car, wrist up as a reminder of whose name is written there. Eddie slides their hands together.

“I had accepted that my fate was just like all the other Munson’s before me. You were happy with Wheeler and I couldn’t bring myself to get in the way of that.”

“We weren’t happy,” Steve interjects faintly, absentmindedly rubbing a thumb over the back of Eddie’s hand. “I think somehow Nancy knew it wasn’t going to be her name on my wrist. She’s perceptive in a scary way.” What little he knows of Wheeler tells him that’s true. After a beat Steve adds, “Sounds like we both had unrealistic expectations for all of this.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, squeezing Steve’s hand. “But we’re starting over, no more King Steve or Eddie the freak Munson.”

“Just Eddie and Steve. I like the sound of that.” 

“Me, too.” He’s about to ask where they’re going for the hundredth time, but Steve turns into a parking lot for what looks like a bookstore.

The building is nondescript with just a simple sign out front. Eddie is already bounding through the entrance before Steve’s turned the car off. Inside, there are walls of books, but it’s more than that. One side of the store is what appears to be a hobby shop, with puzzles, model kits of everything from boats to planes, and a whole display case of dice sets and miniatures.

Eddie’s frozen in place, just inside the doorway, bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly, when he feels Steve come up behind him. “How did you find this place?”

“This kid I babysit plays Dungeons and Dragons, too. He’s the nerdiest little shit. Loves to read. Smartest person I know. He builds all kinds of robots that do stuff. His mom can’t afford to bring him out here all the time, so I started doing it. Let the kid go wild in here and he’s a happy camper. Easiest babysitting job ever.” 

Eddie might climb Steve like a tree right here in the middle of this store for everyone to see. He can’t believe the words Dungeons and Dragons just came out of his mouth.  

“This place is amazing. I’ve been using a secondhand set of dice from Gareth that he got from his cousin. I had no idea this place existed.” 

“You wanna get a new set?” Steve nods towards the display case. “My treat.” 

Eddie almost trips in his hast to sprint across the room and start going through the different sets, Steve’s laughter echoing behind him.

Part Five

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #katie writes #thank you all for being so patient #the final part tomorrow #i promise

[liquidstar]

my controversial opinion is that the soul eater anime-original ending wasnt bad at all. i think it was a perfectly fine ending that tied together all the themes the story was building up in a nice bow, and gave a reasonable conclusion. was it perfect? no, there was for sure much more to be explored, and the weapon maka thing was a little contrived to me, but also... idk maybe the fact that it wasnt this crazy powerful shounen ending, and instead was just one girl proclaiming her courage with a single punch... just didnt have enough flare for typical shounen fans. but i think that was also the point and that it went over a lot of ppls heads. and tbf fmab had a similar conclusion w how it beat its antagonist, and no one complains abt that one! (tho i think the real power in its ending is ed's choice and why it was the "right answer" etc etc so it pulls it off better, this post isnt abt that tho). i think the soul eater ending was perfectly serviceable, the average shounen watcher just doesnt appreciate the themes if they dont end with fucking insane powerscaling, which is the only way to ever end an action show. and the idea that it was the Worst Ending Ever became so pervasive bc of this that ppl started to believe it, just bc it was echoed so much. but its literally fine. the ending is just... fine. it works. its fine. its not the best ending in the world, but it works literally just fine. we're not 13 anymore we can admit the soul eater anime ending was fine

[pinkboxess]

just want to air this out i guess to like-minded people

it bothers me when people (including the show's own writers) think that people ship ted and rebecca just because they are the male and female leads and that's what we expect out of shows.

maybe that's true for some people, but for me, i'm literally queer and on the asexuality spectrum somewhere. i do not just automatically ship a man and woman because i think that's how things naturally go. if anything i'm predisposed to typically not go for hetero ships.

my reasoning for shipping ted and rebecca is the loads of textual evidence of all of their interactions together. they are just, like, visibly and clearly soulmates to me, and i've always felt that way even from the first few episodes of the show that i ever watched.

it seems crazy to me to write characters that have a connection like they do (think of the september 13, 1991 thing and their experiences with divorce and the way that they fit together perfectly and help each other grow and the way that rebecca is the force who brings ted to england) and then say "oh, no, their relationship is only platonic"

again, as a queer and ace person, i actually really fucking do value platonic relationships and i do not think everything has to be romantic or sexual. but the dismissive attitude and the insertion of "just" in front of platonic makes me feel like people are missing the cosmic connection these two characters have.

honestly, in my mind, ted and rebecca don't have to be "just" romantically involved either. it almost feels like what they have is so big and powerful that relegating it to any label is just kind of insufficient.

they are each other's people. they are soulmates.

(also, as a side note, an additional thing i don't like is when writers believe that writing happy or ideal endings makes for a bad story. like there's this need that people feel to not have the couple get together in the nicely tied up way like a fairy tale, or for things to be "nuanced" and "realistic." i kind of think fuck that. honestly, for me, the truly subversive and different ending would be for everyone to love each other and be happy and get the ending that hopeful fans want for them. i don't always want a lesson in how the world works and we have plenty of that already.)

#basically what i'm saying is the idea that there isn't evidence for them being together is insane #when you consider the literal events of the show #this is not just people seeing a man and woman and going oh okay they have to date then #ted lasso/rebecca welton #ted/rebecca #tedbecca #ted lasso

[short-black-diamond]

ANGST PURE FLAVORED ANGST! tis is what i crave! tis is what i want! tis is what i need! tis is what i ask!

Wednesday x Reader

Absolute neglect after The Hyde situation, Wednesday is stuck to Enid like a bear to honey, ignoring your attempts to hang out with her, ignoring ur dates, ignoring you. You finally had enough and its time to let go of your hopes and dreams with her, your future with her. You know you deserve better, you deserved better than to be just a second. You willingly cut that line that connects the two of you together and go on with your life, to be finally happy.

You control the plot author, the dialogues , the way you want them to break up, the levels of angst, i leave it up to you to create a heart breaking, heart stomping, teae inducing of a masterpiece! Remember to always have fun writing or the flavor of the story will fall flat. Goodluck!

Okayyyy, alright! Thank you for the request!

I did it slightly different from your request, with Wednesday being out of character, and, like with a happy ending. and I'm not that good with angst but I'll try! so uh, yeah, eheh...

Wednesday x reader angst everyone!!!

Warnings: Angst obvi, very ooc and toxic Wednesday

Btw everyone can request something, don't be shyyyy

---

"Why can't you believe me?", your voice echoed in the big corridor, fast steps following even faster ones. Nobody dared to come out of their dorms, scared to get a taste of your or Wednesday's anger.

It should actually be the other way round; with Wednesday chasing you and not you chasing her. But you needed to know.

"How come that everytime you tell me something, it happens in a short amount of time. How come that you always know what happens next?", the girl said while her back was to you and she was skidding to a stop when she sharply turned around and faced you.

She was the right one to speak when she was the one with the visions...but you didn't say that outloud, at first being grateful that she even turned around in the first place.

Even though you would've liked for her to listen to you, understand your reasons, why you knew all this, you knew that it still wouldn't end well. Because Wednesday never understood you. She may be the weird girl everybody knows, but to her, you were the weird one.

As you were looking at her perfectly symmetrical face and dared to admire her beauty, you also frowned. "You are my girlfriend, Wednesday. I care about you. I have my reasons, Wednesday. You have yours too. You are not comfortable talking about what happens in your visions, I am not comfortable talking about why I know all this. Let's not overstep each others boundaries here-"

"You overstepped the boundaries when you followed me to the cafe and pulled me away from Tyler-" "I had a good reason to do that! You cheated on me! You were so caught up in kissing him, not noticing how his eyes were fucking open the entire time! He was using you, Wednesday! And we two, we were fucking together!", you screamed now, not noticing that your argument had gotten louder.

Wednesday didn't tell you that she had a vision mid-kiss.

As you were panting, and so was she, she took in your state. Your hair was a mess, your eyes looked like they have been producing a concerning amount of tears, your face was pretty pale and your choise of clothes wasn't the best either. Sure, she felt really bad for cheating on you, but maybe she liked 'normal' people more than she'd like to admit. She also wished that she could apologize, but the damage was done and her throat had a big stone in it. It was weird, really, how she couldn't say anything. Not even a simple sorry. And she somehow felt her eyes burn. And she didn't like the feeling that was bubbling up inside her.

Finally realizing that this argument lead to nowhere with the girl in front of you, tears started forming in your eyes. You knew that you shouldn't apologize, but you always were sorry for doing something wrong, even when you never did anything wrong. And even though you were the one who got cheated on, you still felt like apologizing. "I'm sorry, Wednesday. I really care about you, a-and I was scared that something bad would happen-"

"Leave me alone. It's over between us.", was all the girl said before turning around again and rounding the corner to her dorm. you were left standing there, dumbfounded. She didn't aknowledge that you literally risked your fine ass to save her, leaving her with minor wounds and you with major ones. She fucking cheated on you. She ignored you for the rest of the day and you couldn't help but get depressed, but also angry and displeased.

The next time you saw her, she was literally touching shoulders with Enid, making the rainbow girl gleam in delight. W-were they together now? you felt like puking. Enid and Wednesday didn't look good together, and other people expressed their disagreement by looking at the weird pair with a 'wtf' expression. At least you weren't the only one who didn't like what you saw.

...

It has been a few days after your break up with her. Being away from Wednesday lead you to think about yourself while you meditated. you had a flower-like power, with plants errupting from any surface you touched with your bare hands, feet, or naked body. That's why you always covered as much of your body as possible, and even though it didn't work on humans/monsters, it did work on any other surface and you had to wear gloves and socks all the time. But hey, at least you'd always be warm!

you had your own dorm because apparently, nearly everyone had an allergy against at least one plant in your room. closing the door, you stripped off your clothes and lay down onto the moos and grass ground, loving your ecosystem. The offsprings engulfed your limbs with open...roots? Anyway, as you closed your eyes, your mind wandered to her.

Wednesday, with her hair open, swaying beautifully in the wind.

Wednesday, who let you read her works.

Wednesday, who always bought you chocolate milk. (-Sorry I had to indulge myself there)

Wednesday, who helps you with the homework, patting your head with a satisfied smile on her face.

Wednesday, with a beautiful dress in your room.

Wednesday, who smiles at you before she is about to-

"NO!", you yelled, the flowers around you rotting. They all turned a darker, shadier shade from their original colour, and the roots and becoming thinner and thinner.

.....

....

...

..

.

...See, your feelings were connected to the living creatures of your little world. And when you felt bad, they feel bad. In other words, the flowers in your room mirrored your feelings and mood. Instantly, you apologized and calmed your breathing.

As you steadied your mind, the flowers blossomed again and you sighed. taking care of your feelings was a shit ton of work, especially when somebody- in this case something- else got hurt in the process. You stroked the green underneath you and murmured sweet nothings to your loves, smiling when they began to glow.

"I'm sorry, it's just- Wednesday...seems to like Enid even more than ...me. And here I thought I had a chance. I mean, we were together...", you chuckled dryly, laying yourself down once again.

Then, you thought about Wednesday, who'd never tell you where she went.

Wednesday, who never asked how you were, thinking that a simple pat on the shoulder or head would bring enough comfort.

Wednesday, who'd rather go out with Enid than you, because Enid was socially accepted and you...not so much.

Wednesday, who always pushed you away when you were about to hug her, or kiss her, or generally, just touch her.

Wednesday, who'd get angry when you brought earth and dirt into her side of the dorm she shared with the incomplete werewolf.

Wednesday, who once told you that your powers were useless, but your flowers were the exact reason you could find and save her.

Wednesday, who once yelled at you for taking Thing out for a walk, but Thing only wanted to spend time with you.

Wednesday, who you now seemed to realize, wasn't as hot and romantic as you thought.

Yes, the more you thought about it, the more you grew to hate that girl. But you somehow also thought more about Enid.

Actually, Enid was pretty nice. She was very polite to you, loved it when you brought in dirt, and enjoyed it when you two went out to dig in dirt and bury some bones. It was her tendency as a dog hybrid to do that and your interest to know how long it would take the earth to absorb the contents of the bone, and you two actually became close friends.

the flowers were pulsating, pulling you out of your nap and when you opened your eyes, you found a blushing Enid next to you.

"H-hey-"

"AAAAH!- WHAT THE FUCK-GET OUTTA HERE I'M NAKEDDDDD!!!!"

Yeah, that...was not so nice. Anyway, after you've quickly changed into some comfortable clothes (jeans and a tight shirt to show your abs/tits wink wonk), you opened the door, surprised that she took off her shoes and socks. you once told her that you didn't like it when people stepped on your ground with their dirty shoes, so she took your plea to heart. As she stepped in, she relished the fact that she didn't develop any allergies. and your room really was a sight. also, her animal instincts were in pure bliss.

your room smelt nice, was nice, calm and beautiful. She noticed a few butterflies here and there, worms on the ground, bees collecting nectar and much more. "Your room is so beautiful...", she whispered, scared that if she talked any louder, it would hurt the creatures in your room. you giggled and aknowledged the fact that she was talking quietly. you liked that about her. she respected you and what you loved or did.

"Thanks. Um, may I know why exactly you're here?", you asked, raising a hand for Enid to sit on a moos covered rock which errupted from the grass. It was more comfortable than any chair she's sat on. "Well, I thought that maybe...you'd like to go out sometime?", she asked, a hopefull glimmer in her eyes.

You gave her a sad smile, but the flowers all grew thorns, and Enid noticed. "Aren't you together with Wednesday now?", you asked. Was there some sort of disrespect from you at the goth girl she smelled?

Your question surprised the blonde and she waved her hand in a dismissing manner, frowning at you, her lips turned upwards. "No, we are not. I only like her as a friend. but...there is somebody else I like.", she said, standing up, coming closer to you and softly taking your hand in hers.

Oh.

"U-uhm, Enid-", you stuttered, blushing at the body contact, probably because of Wednesday. yeah, you were pretty touch starved.

"Can I hold your hand for a little longer?", she whispered, looking at you through her blonde eyelashes. Was she doing the puppy-eye? Well, it did the fucking trick.

You looked to the side while nodding and she engulfed it in both her hands. She traced soft patterns on your skin, making you shiver. Her hands were so soft and delicate and you asked youself what she could like about you.

Wednesday never told you sweet words or touched you like a lover like Enid did.

Wednesday never gave you the feeling of being extraordinary throughout the entire time you were with her like you were with Enid in these few minutes.

Wednesday seemed to have accepted your proposal out of pity.

Enid suddenly let go of your hand. "So...what do you say?", she asks, still in your comfort zone. "Sure...!", you answered, craving her touch again. However, something else cought your attention.

"But...I thought-" "No more thinking! You tend to overthink, sweetie!"

your cheeks went warm at the blonde girl's words and she realized what she said too. "Oh, I-I'm sorry, I hope it was not too much?" You only shook your head, smiling giddily at the petname you got, looking to the ground shyly.

"I...quite liked that.", you murmured, feeling bold and gently taking her hands in yours. "Would you...like to move into my dorm? You seem to be the only one to not have an allergy against my flowers."

Jeez, you felt like you were proposing to her, but at this age and these feelings, it might just be one.

As she felt your warm hands hold hers and your even warmer gaze on her face, she had a big smile etched on her face. "Yes!"

...

"Noooo, why?", Enid whined when she saw you scoop up ice with one of your french fries. You pouted at her.

"You eat pizza with pinapple pieces. let me do how I please.", you grumbled, enjoying the sweet and salty flavour.

You two were currently eating at Mcdonald's, a date, where you payed for the food and you were talking about the most random topics. It turned out that you two had a lot more in common than you thought.

"I can't believe that you still watch barbie and my little pony when you've had such a personality.", Enid remarked, grabbing your attantion from sticking more fries into your ice cream.

You looked up at her with childish wonder before beaming at her. "I only had that shitty personality when I was with her. But no more of that. I want to be...myself, you know?"

"I couldn't believe it when you let Wednesday bully you like that.", Enid suddenly exclaimed. your jaw was slack and you gulped. "Wh-what do you mean..?", you answered, frowning at her with an uneasy smile.

"She told you that you were useless, sweetie. it was you who saved her, you know? without you, Wednesday might've been dead already. And your powers are actually pretty good for the environment. And if more people had such a pure heart like yours, then the world would be a much better place."

your face scrunched up, a telltale sign that you were about to cry soon. Good thing that Enid was already done with her food, so she quickly grabbed your ice cream, the fries and your hand and went out.

The fresh air did you good after you two sat down on another rock, and you took deep, shaky breaths. Enid tried out one of the french fries which were stuck in your ice cream - sometimes you really behaved like a child - and she grew to love it.

When you turned to her after having calmed down, you couldn't help but burst out in laughter. Enid only looked at you with a confused expression, not feeling the ice on top of her upper lip. "Growing a beard I see?", you asked, touching her cheeks softly.

"Let me kiss it off of you.", you whispered softly and Enid nodded eagerly, much to your delight. you gently licked away the ice before giving her a sweet kiss-

"Enid.", Wednesday said, startling both you and the girl in your arms.

She gave Enid a death glare and you too, to which you frowned. The young Addams girl took a step forward, with you going on front of Enid protectively. "Just what the hell so you think you're doing, Enid?"

"I kissed her." "I saw. And I told her to leave you alone." "And why would she do that?"

"Because she doesn't deserve some useless nobody like you."

"You know that if it weren't for my plants, you would've been dead."

Wednesday stared at you, and you glared. "Leave us alone Wendesday. You don't even know what you want or what's best for you.", you boldly exclaimed, taking Enid's hand and leading her away from the goth girl. "I hope you'll live through a tragedy of a life, Wednesday Addams."

"Rich coming from somebody who's kissing my best friend.", the latina boldly said, provoking you with a smirk, thinking that she'd have the upper hand.

But you were tired of her bullshit. "Even richer coming from somebody,", you started while walking towards her, your eyes glowing and a slight earthquake making itself known, "who was cheating on her partner- which she couldn't even look after properly- with a fucking Hyde in human disguise!"

You grabbed her shoulders and your face was covered in plants, but you looked terrifying. Wednesday looked scared for the first time in her life and you lived for that with a wicked grin. "Stay out of my life if you know what's best for you, Wednesday. You're a toxic, lying, untrustworthy, unreliable, whorish, slutty piece of shit and if that doesn't go through your stubborn, shitty head then I have no idea what to tell you more except to tell you to fuck out of my life again!", then you let go of her. Your face twisted back to normal, you gently took your girlfriends hand and led her away from your ex.

---

How was that? I hope it was not too boring. I wanted to bring in some funny parts and I hope you guys laughed-please act like you did.

I've read this story again and I Don't think that I can write angst that good likt other authors, but I hope it was okay..

#wednesday x reader #wednesday angst #wednesday cast #wednesday spoilers #wednesday show #wednsday addams #wednesday #adams family #addams #goody addams

[rose-wild]

pjo characters as taylor swift albums

leo — taylor swift (debut): tied together with a smile is literally his fucking song, cold as you, i’m only me when i’m with you, teardrops on my guitar bro

piper — fearless (tv): i can very clearly see her loving fearless, the way i loved you, mr. perfectly fine, love story, white horse, etc she’s just so fearless coded

frank — speak now (tv): he’s a whimsical romantic so he’d love enchanted, he’d love singing mine at the top of his lungs, he’s so long live coded too, and he’d absolutely love i can see you and timeless

annabeth — red (tv): she’s so red coded, everything has changed reminds her of percy, sad beautiful tragic, state of grace, begin again, and she’s so the moment i knew, all too well (10 min), red, ronan, do i need to go on

percy — 1989: welcome to ny his fucking city bro, i wish you would is so titan’s curse percy, he loves singing how you get the girl in the car with annabeth, he loves singing blank space with sally, and he’s so james dean

hazel — reputation: there is no other character that fits reputation as well as her, i could go on and on. she’s so lwymmd, this is why we can’t have nice things, ready for it, i did something bad, and king of my heart, dancing with our hands tied, endgame etc etc i could go on she’s so reputation coded

jason — lover: oh this boy is so lover coded. he’s london boy even if he’s not from london. he’s paper rings and cornelia street and death by a thousand cuts and the archer is his fucking song. he loves the man and he’s cried to daylight more times than he can count.

calypso — folklore: she’s so august & cardigan, and tlgad, mad woman, illicit affairs, my teachers ricochet, etc

reyna — evermore: she’s so champagne problems, gold rush, cowboy like me, tolerate it coded. ivy and no body no crime and tis the damn season and long story short. right where you left me.

nico — midnights: maroon, lavender haze, antihero, the great war, bigger than the whole sky, would’ve could’ve should’ve, karma are all so him. not to mention he’s literally midnight rain because his boyfriend is literally sunshine

#heroes of olympus #percy jackson #annabeth chase #piper mclean #jason grace #reyna avila ramirez arellano #nico di angelo #hazel levesque #frank zhang #leo valdez #calypso #pjohootoa #pjohoo #pjofandom #pjo

[streets-in-paradise]

Reality Check - BarclayPierce ( Andy x Nica)

Warnings: Inspired on this post and the lovely contributions from the community it received.

Summary: After trying and failing to help for so long, Andy knows his words are bassically worthless in the trial. Still, there is something else he can do in order to help Nica in her well deserved revenge against Tiffany.

Showing his love for her so her abuser could get the chance of watching his feelings being required freely and consensually.

Notes: I'm not familiar with the usamerican law, so this may not be very believable. However, in a show where a possessed doll can see a doctor i guess i'm free to take some liberties.

Tags: @barclaysangel @series-thoughts @rogertaylorismyking

Even if his words meant nothing in a world that would never stop taking him as crazy, Andy promised to Nica that he was going to be there for her and he wasn't backing off from his promises. Only being pulled out by the guards could have stopped him from pridefully supporting her in the most important moment of her life after being free from possession and the old murder charges against her.

The day she would bring Tiffany's doom without having to spill a single drop of blood, letting the court serve the justice that she deserved. He knew she would have been happier doing it by herself, given that he was the onlyone who fully understood her thirst for fucked up vengeance. Things took a different turn far away from his area of expertise. They wouldn't be able to torture Tiffany together like they once hoped, but he was going to watch Nica testify against her maniacal kidnapper with the same satisfaction he would have had seeing her pick his trustable flamethrower.

The courthouse had mixed reactions to their arrival. Rachel and the kids seemed happy to find out Nica wouldn't have to go through the process alone, but the surprise inclussion shocked some others.

Her abuser didn't see it coming, she had a hard time trying to understand what was he doing there and precisely alongside the witness she cared to most about. The onlyone she wanted to see, who she expected to find without any company. Her troubled confussion was such that her eyes had followed untill he took seat as if she would be trying to figure him out.

The story he had to tell was as insane as hers and if he wasn't there to speak … What else would be left to think in the obsessive mind of Tiffany Valentine? The sweet smile he gave to Nica as she was heading to make her statements was suspicious enough to awake an irrational rage. Lack of context didn't allow her to understand the accurate emotional meaning for that sense of complicity between them, but one thing was clear to her.

He seemed so in love and she loathed it.

Concerned only in being Nica's emotional support, Andy ignored the effect his presence had on her agressor's obsession. He was aware of being the luckiest in the arch nemesis lottery, but never had much chance of witnessing Tiffany's level of delusion by himself. Most of his knowledge about that came from comments of her three main victims.

A chance presented itself and it made him feel sick.

The defense lawyer got her work completely screwed by her client just as she was cornering Nica regarding the motives for the confession that exonerated her.

" Because I love you!" Tiffany had cheerfully screamed to the woman testifying against her for the whole courtroom to hear, pretty much as if she expected thankfullness for it.

The delusion was strong, way beyond his understanding. Andy was shocked and pissed off in equal amounts. After kidnapping her, sexually assaulting her and dismembering her so she could keep her controlled one year more, the bitch would still call that love hoping Nica would love her back.

It was all she cared about, perfectly willing to fuck up her case just to keep insisting as if her victim could ever feel anything but hate for her. Nica wasn't even shying away from showing reasonable disgust and hatred, but Tiffany won't care for real about what she had to say unless it would serve to feed her fantasy.

That bitch needed a reality check, a wake up call she wouldn't easily ignore. Maybe then she would feel trully broken and finally hit rock bottom.

If she only knew of their flourishing feelings, of their late night talks and morning kisses … of how Nica had willingly choosen him. Him, of all people, a man frequently underestimated in his romantic potential even by Chucky himself. The good enough for no one, the loner whose call in life was chazing that doll till the end of days. Him, and not her, the fake movie star with a fabulous lifestyle and glamorous looks whose only desire in life was having her.

There was still a key role for him to play in the vengeance, he could help the cause with something better than torture weaponry or a bomb testimony. His genuine love for Nica, what could make him hold enough power to ruin Tiffany's day just by being himself. Measuring his demeanour to avoid a scandall required of subtle gestures if he didn't want to get kicked out of the courtroom, but he wanted to show he was trully proud of Nica's strenght to endure the questioning of the lawyer and facing the abuser that still had a false sense of ownership over her.

As soon as they were done with her, he focused in lovefully reflecting that strenght through some comfort.

" You did it amazing! Nica, i'm so fucking impressed. " He whispered at her. " I wished I could stand up and clap."

Still going through the conflictive emotions of the trial, she gave him a half smile.

" Let's hope you are not the onlyone. "

Andy caressed her cheek and Nica followed the movement of his hand with her head, showing clear enjoyment of his touch. A simple, sweet moment before focusing back on the trial, but enough to make Tiffany's blood boil.

From there she could only obssess wondering if her intuitive fears were truth, if all her hard work to keep her only resulted in having to watch her land on Andy's arms. The mere idea sent her over the edge of a mental breakdown, she had to be stopped by the judge from keep screaming at him over and over to take his hands off Nica.

" What are you going to do about it? Chop off my arms? " He fearlessly taunted her, purposedly using the dark style of Chucky that he knew so well. " I would like to see you try. "

A call for order stopped Nica from contributing to his mockery, having arrived late to the same conclussion. Tiffany could keep ignoring her open declarations of hate, but the image of her answering positively to someone else's caresses was going to haunt her more than the fear of going to prison.

Her man have learned a few of her lessons in psycological torture and Nica couldn't be prouder.

The best was saved for last, on the moment of the verdict. The worst day on that bitch's life that they were going to ruin even more. Driven by the impure joy found in the sentence to death, Andy pulled Nica in for a passionate, almost delirous kiss that he iniciated without caring for the context. As Tiffany was storming out bitching at her lawyer she stumbled with the scene and the disgusted shock overcame everything else.

For an instant, she even forgot of the lethal punishment awaiting her.

At that precise instant, Andy raised one hand to flip off while the other was still grabbing Nica, who smirked devilishly against his lips.

An hysterical cackle from a very surprised Rachel Fairchild crowned the insanity of the moment. If it wasn't for the police custody, the humilliation would have pushed Tiffany to jump over Andy seeking to strangle him the way she considered Chucky should have done many years before.

" I DID NOTHING TO YOU!!" She yelled instead, recriminating him as if her breakup with Chucky would be enough to automatically exonerate her from any guilts he could personally attribute her and must had released her from his his radar. " WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME? ME!!! I KEPT HIM AWAY FROM YOU FOR OVER A DECADE, YOU DISGRACED LITTLE SHIT … AND THIS IS HOW YOU PAY ME?? TAKING NICA FROM ME?? WHY?"

Andy did the effort of looking unamused by her madness.

" Because I love her. " Was his simple reply, an ironical comeback twisting the same words he heard her say back when she interrupted the testimony. " … And i'm pretty sure she loves me back. "

They could tell by her far gone expression that she was trying to convince herself it was all lies.

" Of course i love you!" Nica followed, admitting a truth he knew while feeling ecstatic of killing her hope. " i'm crazy for him, thanks for setting us up!! Turns out I went from being the prisoner love doll of your sick dollhouse to have my own teddy bear. Wild, isn't it? Andy gives the best hugs, and i didn't even need to explain him about boundaries. He gets the consent part, so I indulge him. "

" See the bright side, Tiffany! At least you are gonna go knowing Nica is in better hands" Andy mocked her with ironical positivity. "… My hands, if the walls of my place could speak of the things we do whenever your children aren't there. They are staying with us, you know? Ohh right! Probably you don't know because they haven't visited you."

He smiled pridefully, then went to congrat Rachel and the kids, giving Nica her space to finish off her enemy. The things he overheard her say were so incredibly vile and deliciously hatefull that being impressed was not enough to describe how that made him feel.

Enamored, charmed, completely turned on, could be more accurate. ' … I'm going to roll this chair all over your fucking grave' was the last thing he got to listen, wishing he could have added that he would probably be standing in one knee proposing within the same action.

Tiffany was the one soon to be on death row, but Nica was going to be the death of him.

#andy barclay #nica pierce #tiffany valentine #andy x nica #barclaypierce