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#WHOS IDEA WAS THIS IM CALLING THE POLICE
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…what the fuck am I supposed to do with my life now
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snekdood · 3 months
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"if we make america worse and more of a dictatorship that will be even harder to unravel and make it the way we want the country to be, maybe then everyone will join our Glorious Revolution!" bb girl you cant even be in the same room with someone who thinks you should vote, how in tf do you think you're gonna unite people to fight in The Revolution with you? it's gonna be you and your 5 friends, i hate to break it to you.
#i dont think you realize how repelling you and your politics are to everyone else#you get all of your validation for how Smart You Are from your friends and ignore any kind of feedback that suggests you should#change or do something differently. thats the only reason you're so convinced average people will go along with you bc you keep getting#affirmation from the people who ALREADY agree with you- but you have NO IDEA how to bridge the gap between people who agree#with you and disagree with you. you're horrible at convincing people of your side of things outside of straight up guilt tripping them#or bullying them like a highschooler. im sorry but the tools you learned to survive with as a kid aren't gonna help you in this situation.#the ONLY THING you can come up with to bridge that gap is a bloody revolution. thats how bad you are at this.#and you're also so bad at this and unimaginative that you dont even realize how THAT might not even be enough.#you cant imagine ANY kind of avenue to getting people to change AT ALL outside of blood and fire. and thats why people call you#an authoritarian.#i'll be honest- i really do think the world would be a better place if we did incremental change under a democratic president who wont#set the world on fire vs the godkingemperor republican WHO WONT EVEN LISTEN TO YOU AT ALL EVER AND MIGHT KILL YOU#FOR PUTTING UP A STINK. idk if you noticed but if that evil fuck gets into office we are severely outnumbered if he gets police#n shit to go after his own citizens. letting trump win is making this battle so much harder than it needs to be.#you are choosing trying to fix the world while its exploding vs trying to fix it before it explodes at all.#what is this like a procrastination thing? you wanna wait till the last minute to try? idfgi. wtf is wrong with you#throwing minority lives away to prove a point. and then you try to tell me you care. gtfoh.#accelerationists should never be taken seriously.
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martyrbat · 5 months
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the silent night of the batman — batman #219
(ID in alt!)
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witchblade · 2 years
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i say it all the time but every time i come across one of those weirdos that’s against p*racy for like. the moral sin of enjoying something you didn’t pay for i get so icked out it’s such a detached and unreal perspective with no grounding in anything except like spiritual purity tied to Exchanging Money it’s like talking to an alien
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this-dude-over-here · 3 months
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I live with a 10-year-old and a few days ago they showed me a statue on their computer and asked "do you know what this thing is" and I was like "oh yeah the weeping angels from Doctor Who"
this followed them googling Doctor Who and asking me "what this blue box is"
they then insisted I find an episode the weeping angels appear in so they could watch it. I suggested that they watch it in a more orderly way so it'd make more sense, but nooo they said, "I only want to watch that one because watching it all would be too long and boring!"
so they watched that one episode. and they geek out over it for like a whole hour to me and I'm trying not to be like, "I was there when it was written"
and two hours later, what do I hear? Doctor Who (2005) series 1, episode 1, "Rose"
anyway, this is my way of saying that I have now watched 40 hours of Doctor Who consistently over the last twoish weeks with my lil buddy, when I have not watched a single episode in like ten years or something. I don't even wanna know how long it's been.
and now I ask the dreaded question of all questions: is this the beginning of a resurrection of superwholock among gen alpha? and if so, might it actually mean that humanity is saved?
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underoossss · 2 years
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babe, baby, beautiful – s.h
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pairing: steve harrington x reader
warnings: language, miscommunications, idiots (pining) to idiots (lovers)
an: lets do this again shall we? this wasn’t showing up in the tags, so i deleted and reposted it today im sorry (i also changed the title from ive meant it all to this). So mamma mia here we go again. Have some wholesome hurt/comfort best friends to lovers to brighten your day/night. I love pining idiots and love confessions so here you are!
Masterlist
✫✫✫✫
The bell over the deli’s front door rings at 1pm, and after a glance at the car parked outside, you know exactly who it is. Steve on his lunch break ––or just any break if you’re being honest–– coming to visit you like he always does. You giggle at the idea that pops into your mind, hoping your best friend is distracted enough for it to work.
“Hey, that’s a nice updog you got there.” You say when Steve comes into the store, using your most casual and nonchalant tone. Though you try not to stare, you can’t help yourself when you look him over briefly. He’s wearing that pair of light washed jeans you don’t let yourself think about, and a light blue polo with a t-shirt underneath. His hair––like always––is perfectly styled, some of it falling over the right side of his forehead. With a shake of your head, you clear your thoughts, focusing instead on Steve’s response.
“What’s u—” Steve starts to say then pauses and rolls his eyes, pointing one finger at you. “No! I’m not falling for it this time.”
“Hah! but you almost did!” You say between laughs; vowing to catch him unaware some other time. “I’ll get you to slip, eventually.”
“You can try babe, but you’ll fail.” He says with confidence then smiles at you; his eyes explore your face for a moment before he spots the book on the counter. “Slow morning today?”
“A bit, yeah. But I don’t mind.” You shrug and bookmark your very-much-loved copy of Persuasion. “How’s FV today?”
Steve looks over the many knick-knacks displayed on the counter as he speaks. “Packed. We got some new movies today, so it’s been busy.”
“‘Your kids’ visit you yet?” You ask while you put your book away. “They were here at noon, those little gremlins.”
 Steve chuckles, “No surprise there, they like hanging out here more than at the store with me, now.”
“There’s no food at your place, Stevie. But in here…” You gesture at your surroundings with your hand. “I’ll get in trouble for feeding them eventually.”
“How many today?” Steve asks you, he smiles fondly, knowing the angsty teenagers you call your friends can win you over easily.
“3 Subs.” Your voice is a whisper when you answer Steve’s question. “I told them that if I’m found out I’ll tell my boss they stole them. Let them deal with the police.”
You chuckle, knowing you’re only bluffing. With everything that has happened to the kids in this town, you’re sure you’ll try to protect them as much as you can. From the look that Steve gives you ––amused? Fond? –– you know he can tell you’re not serious either.
“Dustin’s going to fix my radio too.” You tell Steve. “It keeps making my cassettes sound funny.”
“Well.” Steve shrugs, faking seriousness. “I’ll back you up with the police if you need; get you out of any trouble.”
You hum and raise a questioning eyebrow. “And how exactly are you gonna do that?”
“I’ll convince them, naturally. I can be very charming.” He says, and you can’t help the laugh that leaves you.
“Of course, you will, Stevie.” You smile, leaning your forearms on the counter once more. Your eyes scan his brown ones and take in the playfulness that lies there; it makes your smile grow.
“I don’t think you believe me, babe.” He shakes his head, mock hurt.
“I do! The Harrington charm works every time.” You say seriously, until you giggle once more. It does work though, you’re very much charmed by him. You fell in love with him after all. Steve rolls his eyes at you with fondness, and your stomach flips. Clearing your throat, you speak again. “We’re still on for tonight right, the group dinner?”
“Yeah, you wanted to try that new burger place at the mall.” Steve nods then scratches the back of his neck. “Eight, right?” His eyes look at yours for confirmation.
“Yup.” You smile, moving one of your arms so you can rest your chin on your palm. You can’t keep the joy out of your tone when you speak again. It had been a week since you last saw all your friends together ––no counting any short visits–– and since you had been able to hang out with Steve for longer than your lunch breaks. “I’m excited.”
“Yeah?” Steve asks you, smiling back like he is thinking the same thing ––he complained briefly last week that choosing to work overtime would keep you from enjoying summer weekends. His forearm settles on the counter, close to your hand as he pushes his weight on it and looks at you. His eyes grow fond and suddenly it’s like they capture yours in a trance. Cedar brown irises shine beautifully as he smiles; you can see the flecks of golden brown in them, a tiny detail that only appears with the right light. You feel your fingers flutter where they rest near Steve’s arm, itching to hold his hand and let it cover yours, but you can’t.
That would make things weird, right?
You nod your head at his question, mentally reminding yourself not to let your heart out on your sleeve, but your brain seems to be asleep. Steve’s eyes, which haven’t left your face and only seem to grow more intense, shift to your lips—pupils dilating and eclipsing the beautiful brown you were observing. When did his face come so close to yours? Steve’s cheeks blush a second later and your face like it’s on fire. It takes all in you to keep from breathing in sharply at the thought that pops up in your mind. Does he… is he thinking about kissing you? No, that’s you projecting onto him. But then his fingers move, like they have the same impulse as yours, and brush your arm gently, almost imperceptibly; it sends a jolt through your body.
You’re giving yourself away! Your mind yells at the same time your heart argues He might like you, he’s acting differently.
You jump, from the electric and burning touch as well as the store’s bell sudden ringing. A new customer steps into the store, disintegrating any moment, however unusual, that happened between you. You clear your suddenly dry throat and dart your eyes from the customer to Steve.
“I should—” You motion to the expecting client and Steve nods. Your face is still burning, and you bite your lip anxiously while your mind races over what could have happened had the client not arrived.
Steve runs a hand through his hair, and your eyes follow the movement, staring involuntarily at the way his arm flexes. His eyebrows furrow as if deep in thought, he looks at you briefly then. “Yeah, of course babe. I’ll leave you to it. I’ll um… see you.”
“Sure, Stevie. See you tonight.” You hope he doesn’t hear the disappointment in your voice, the way you wish he didn’t have to go back to work.
With that, Steve goes out the door and to his car once more. You watch as he reverses back into the main road and disappears. After a shake of your head to clear your head, you address the new customer, take his order, and set to helping him checkout. But even as you work your mind spins in incessant circles of wistful thinking. Steve looked at you differently, his eyes had shone with different emotions, too many to identify correctly. He looked at your lips and blushed when you’d noticed. Is it possible that… no, of course not. There’s no way he could be into you. You were his best friend, nothing more. But then again so was he, and you’d fallen for him anyways. Is it possible that he reciprocates your feelings?
✫✫✫✫
Later that day, you pull into the mall’s parking lot past 7:30pm. Robin sits on the passenger seat of your car, her combat boots up on the dashboard. She asked you for a ride earlier, and since your houses are very close by, you happily agreed. The two of you remove your seatbelts, and slide out of the car, locking the doors behind you. The summer night is humid, and you feel almost suffocated in the button-down shirt that covers your shoulders and arms. But the mall would be blasting cold air though, the AC turned up to the max, so there was really no way you’d only be wearing the pale-yellow tank top you have underneath your shirt. You check your pockets for your keys and the cash you brought with you, an unshakable habit ever since you got locked out of your car that one time during the winter. Robin talks while she walks next to you, her mind going over the possibility of a vegetarian option at the restaurant.
“I know it’s a burger place, but veggie burgers exist! And I know I will be that person who asks for the vegetarian option but… I don’t do it to shame you guys! I just don’t think the world needs the extra cruelty towards the cow where my burger would’ve come from. Or the water depletion! I just hope it’s actually like 100% veggie burger, and not some mixture of veggies and meat.” She goes on, about some frozen veggie burgers she got at the supermarket once, that were not all veggies.
You chuckle and bump your shoulder against hers. “I’ll make sure to ask them if it’s all veggie.”
“And make sure they show you the packaging, they can lie to us!” Robin insists and it makes you laugh as you approach the mall’s entrance.
Eddie Munson is waiting by the main door when he spots you. “What’s Buckley saying that’s got you laughing, sweetums.” He asks when he reaches the two of you.
“Hi Eds.” You say, smiling once your laughter fades. You accept the hug he gives you and Robin does as well.
“She’s delighted by all my trust issues, Munson.” Robin says and shakes her head before she looks at you, “Isn’t that right?”
“Of course not.” You shake your head. “I’m just imagining the waiter’s face when you ask for a veggie burger.”
Robin chuckles, a playful smile on her face. “You’re right.”
“Shall we, ladies?” Eddie motions towards the door. “Don’t know about you, but I’m ready for some of that freezing A/C inside.”
“I swear these temperature changes are going to get us sick one of these days.” You shake your head but walk along with your friends. “Did Steve say what time he’ll get here? I told him eight o’clock but—”
“Aw, that’s cute.” Robin says with a teasing tone. “You’re trying to sound nonchalant.”
You raise your chin higher, “I’m always nonchalant.”
“Keep dreaming. When it comes to Steve you never are.” Robin scoffs, but not meanly, she just likes to tease you about your feelings for him and how inconvenient they are as he is your best friend.
“Cut her some slack, Buckley. That’s how young love is.” Eddie says, but he’s chuckling too.
“Come on, Baskin Robins, don’t gang up on me with Eddie,” You decide to tease her right back, with an annoying nickname at least. “I asked a genuine question.”
“Dunno.” Robin says, “He didn’t tell me when he dropped me off after work.”
“I thought Harrington would be with you guys.” Eddie mentions as the three of you step on the escalators. You take one step and Robin shares one with Eddie. The two of them stand behind you, so you turn sideways to address them.
“I haven’t talked to him since this morning.” You say, shrugging even as your stomach flips at the unusual interaction you’d had with him. You picture it in your mind; the two of you leaning against the deli’s counter, him in front of you. He’d stood closer than before, his face close to yours while you chuckled. He’d looked into your eyes, then moved his gaze to your lips. Your heart had hammered against your chest so loudly you wondered if Steve heard it.
“It’s almost eight, so he should be here soon.” Robin proposes with a shrug.
“Yeah.” You nod, then look at Eddie with a smile. “How was Hellfire today?”
“Same as usual.” Eddie tells you. “We have a killer campaign next week.” He goes on to tell you about it, and you listen to him even while you turn briefly to step off the escalators. He’s mentioning something Mike and Dustin had come up with at a club meeting and how he’d let them plan the next campaign.
You were about to tell him how the kids were growing on him but the scene in front of you makes you pause. There, on the other side of the second floor is Steve, but he isn’t alone. There’s a girl next to him, holding his arm as they walk in the direction to the restaurant. You can only see her profile, while she looks at him, and she is beautiful. Her blonde hair bounces perfectly with each step she takes, and the pink lipstick she’s wearing suits her complexion perfectly. They way she looks at him is all too familiar as well, it’s a way you’ve looked at him on many occasions ––and a look you’ve worked hard to conceal from him. But where the girl looks at him like he’s too attractive to be real ––he is–– you look at him like he’s your favourite person to ever exist, like there’s no one you will love like you love him.
You stop dead on your tracks, looking away from Steve’s walking form. Your eyes look around to try and find somewhere to hide. A second later you see a thick pillar to your right and you make a beeline towards it —it’s embarrassing really, how you have to hide, but you don’t to want be spotted. Not when your insides feel like they’re collapsing on themselves. But the way you looked at me this morning, you wonder to yourself, did I imagine it? Of course, you did; you’ve known all along Steve can’t and will never be yours. The only one who wasn’t in on the secret was your heart.
Your friends are quick to follow you, crouching next to you in your hiding place. Their gaze follows yours and you can see out of your periphery that they share a concerned look. Steve looks so handsome as always, in that white t-shirt and burgundy vest; his hair is perfect, the grin on his face is lovely. All of it makes your heart ache, even more so when you look at the girl by his side again. His probable date, the one he chose. I wish you were mine instead, you think. I wish… I only saw you as a friend.
You try to speak and open your mouth to, once, twice, but no sound comes out. The only sound you do hear though, is that of your heart as it breaks. You knew this day would come, you’ve tried to prepare for it, so how is it that you’re not ready? Squeezing your eyes shut, you try to control the way your lip trembles and your hand begins to shake. Nausea bubbles in your stomach and you feel an ache within your chest, though you don’t know how —it’s suddenly hollow and devastated. You swallow hard and manage to find your voice. “I need to leave. Y–you guys should go get burgers anyway —let me know how they are.”
Robin and Eddie start to say your name, but you shake your head, wiping at your eyes before your tears fall. “Look at that, the allergies are acting up. Eddie you can give robin a ride home, right?”
Eddie nods, but his eyes are full of concern. He brings his hand to your shoulder and keeps his voice soft when he speaks. “Yeah, buttercup; but we don’t have to stay, we can go with you.”
Robin nods earnestly, struggling to keep her voice down. She starts rambling, insisting on coming with you. “You’re not okay, come on let’s get you home. We don’t need the burgers; we’ll all make excuses. You don’t have to be alone right now, I-I honestly didn’t know he would….”
“No, please guys, I’m okay.” You try to reassure them, the need to flee the mall growing with each minute. The sting of unshed tears becomes more intense. “Tell Steve I ate a bad sandwich at work and got sick. Or anything! I just can’t be here right now. I’m sorry.”
You offer them a poor excuse for a smile before you turn around to leave the mall. After making sure Steve went the opposite way from the front door, you walk to the escalators again, descending them like you would a normal staircase ––there’s no time to way for it to take you to the main floor, you need to leave. It feels like you’re on autopilot from then on, you walk to your car and drive home in silence. Your hands grip the steering wheel tightly while your heart continues to pound in your chest, this time completely differently than it had in the morning. The autopilot you were in shuts down once you park in your driveway, and at once the numbness ends as your resolve to be strong crumbles. Your feelings overflow, they burst from the tiny box you squeezed them into a long time ago, and it’s a matter of seconds for the tears to follow. Once the first one falls, the rest don’t hold back, and just like that you find yourself crying in your car. Your head falls to the steering wheel and your shoulders shake with a sob when the memory from earlier floods your mind again.
You see the two of them and how good they looked together; how happy she was. Would Steve kiss her goodnight? Would she get to feel his touch as they kissed? It all hurts you even more, yet the only one to blame for being in this mess is you. How could you think you had a chance. You’re Steve’s best friend, just that, and you will remain that indefinitely. It hadn’t bothered you before, until a couple years ago romantic feelings bloomed and grew each time you fell more in love with him. Why did you have to fall in love? Why didn’t you ignore your feelings back then to save you the pain of a broken heart you’re experiencing now?
With a few deep breaths you try to compose yourself, wiping at your eyes and the tears that fell on the wheel during your pity party. You can’t stay in your car all night, so you gather your things and make your way to the front door. You discard your shoes once you’re inside and the door is locked behind you. Then, figuring that chocolate can probably trick you into feeling better, you go to the kitchen where you grab a tub of ice cream from the freezer and a spoon.
You sit on the floor, your back to the fridge as you scoop a spoonful of chocolate ice cream and eat it absentmindedly. You feel tired and jealous, but also angry and hollow. This was going to happen, you remind yourself ––no daydreaming or wistful thinking was going to change the outcome. Steve was never going to choose you, romantically anyways. How are you going to face him again, hear him talk about his date and pretend that you’re happy when you know you’re not. When you know that it’s killing you that you’re not and will never be his.
Even the decadent chocolate flavour turns bitter after a few spoonfuls, your thoughts stripping it off its comforting sweetness. With a sigh, you stand up and drop the spoon on the sink then put the ice cream back in the freezer, determined to go upstairs and shower; you’ll cry yourself to sleep soon after. Yes, that’s a good plan. You empty your pockets and leave everything on your dresser —your keys, and the money you didn’t use. In the bathroom, you start the shower and let the water warm up as you undress and put a shower cap on. You don’t have the strength or willingness to wash your hair tonight, besides, the sooner you’re in bed the better. The warm water soothes you, as does the vanilla scented body wash you always use. You put all your focus on getting yourself clean, trying to leave no room in your mind to think about your feelings.
By the time you’re out of the shower and slip into your sleeping shirt and shorts, you feel proud of yourself because you hadn’t cried anymore. But the small triumph only lasts until you’re done brushing your teeth because just then the phone starts to ring downstairs. You rinse your mouth before going back downstairs and to the kitchen, thankful for your deep-sleeper parents when you see its 10:30 on the microwave’s clock.
“Hello?” You answer the phone, wondering who’s calling.
“Hey, babe.” Steve voice says on the other side of the line, and you the minute to hear his voice your non-crying streak is broken. Your throat feels tight, and your vision blurs; flashes of what you saw at the mall come back to you like an unkind reminder. You want to hang up, you have to make up any excuse because Steve can’t hear you cry.
“Hi,” You murmur as your fingers fidget with the phone’s curly cord. You tangle and untangle your finger in it, anything to calm you down.
 “Robin said you’re sick, how are you feeling?”
 If only you knew.
 “I’m…not great,” You say, and it isn’t a lie, he just doesn’t know why. “I’m throwing up my guts.” You continue, trying to stop your voice from wavering and pressing your lips together as you take a deep breath. I’m also crying my eyes out you think, but you don’t tell him.
“Must have been a really bad sandwich,” Steve says–– you can picture him scratching his chin as he speaks, his eyebrows furrowed. “This morning you were fine. I called Henderson and he’s not sick.”
You shake your head, of all the times he chooses to be perceptive… Yeah, this morning seems like an eternity ago. When I thought you returned my feelings, but you went out on a possible date, and it broke my heart.
“I ate a different sub.” You say. “And with my luck it probably had poison in it. Maybe it was the lettuce.” You fake a chuckle, knowing the lie is sealed tight now. The kids hate veggies, that’s why you never put them in their sandwiches. If you say you put some in yours then it’s more believable that you got sick, and they didn’t.
You clear your throat, needing to spare yourself any more pain. “I… um, feel very tired though so I should go to bed.”
“Yeah,” Steve says, probably nodding his head even though you can’t see him. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea, beautiful. Drink lots of water, ok?”
Your heart tightens at the pet name ––one of many that started meaning something different to you a while ago––and his concern. In another world, one where you aren’t in love with him, you know he would be comforting you through your heartbreak.  But that isn’t the world you live in. Here, you deal with it alone because silly you fell in love with your best friend.
“Yeah, thanks Stevie. Night.” You hang up and squeeze your eyes shut as you lean against the wall, letting your tears finally fall to the kitchen floor.
The sudden knock on the front door makes you look up, and you barely have time to wonder who it is when you hear Robin’s voice calling your name. “Open up! I can see the lights on!” She says from the other side.
Though you’re tired —and surprised— you make your way to the front door and open it to find Robin and Eddie standing there. They look at you with both worry and sympathy when they see your red-rimmed and puffy eyes. It’s enough to make you tear up again.
“I hate everything.” You mumble and they step inside to envelop you in a three-person hug. “What are you guys doing here?”
Robin scoffs softly, “You honestly think we wouldn’t check up on you?”
You can only shrug when they step back, that’s exactly what you thought earlier. “I guess not.”
“We didn’t want you to be alone.” Eddie says, his lips forming a frown.
“Thank you… I appreciate that.” You tell them, though you feel guilty that your currently emotional state made them come see you. “Come in, make yourselves comfortable.”
The three of you move to the living room, where you lie face down on the couch, knowing you don’t have to pretend to be okay with your friends. Eddie sits on the coffee table and Robin goes to the kitchen to grab a glass of water.
“How were those burgers?” You ask though your voice is muffled by the couch. “Steve just called. Thank you for covering for me.”
“The burgers were… interesting.” Eddie says, “We were going to bring you one but Robin said you would throw it up.”
You shake your head, sitting up briefly when you hear Robin approach. “You can rip the band aid off. I just heard his voice and lied to him, so what’s some more pain?”
Robin hands you the glass of water which you accept and take a few sips from. Eddie takes the glass from you when you’re done, and you collapse on the couch again, facing the ceiling this time.
“He came to the restaurant with her, sat down with us for a bit.” Eddie begins and his leg bounces anxiously as his hands fidget, like he’s unsure he should be telling you more, “He asked about you, and got worried when we told him you got sick.”
“They didn’t stay long.” Robin says from where she now sits on the floor next to you.
“Was she, his date?” You ask, looking for some confirmation of your assumptions.
Robin nods and takes your hand in hers. “Yeah, it was a date.” She whispers.
You nod in understanding, eyes fixed on the ceiling as tears gather in your eyes. So it is confirmed then, you think dejectedly, I read too much into what happened in the morning. I fooled myself into thinking he was into me. One of your tears rolls down your cheek and hides in your hair.
“Shit, sweetums.” Eddie says, sounding upset by your current state. “Come on, don’t cry.”
You chuckle morosely, “I can’t help it, Eddie. I feel like my heart went through a paper shredder.”
“I thought Harrington was into you, buttercup, I was almost certain of it.” Eddie shakes his head; you feel his eyes still on your face. “Robin too.”
“Yeah, I never thought he’d bring a date to dinner. Considering you invited him.” Robin is shaking her head while she pulls on a thread sticking out of the carpeted floor.
“We were all wrong then.” You say, closing your eyes, “Me for believing I wouldn’t care or be affected if Steve dated someone, and you guys for thinking he saw me as anything other than a friend.”
There’s a minute of silence between the three of you as you shake your head at your own foolishness and stare at the ceiling. “He called me, just as you guys arrived. Had to hang up quickly so he wouldn’t hear me cry.”
Robin’s hand falls on your shoulder and squeezes it in comfort. You think about how you had to lie to Steve, how you didn’t even let him say good night. It makes you tear up again. “This is pathetic. Why is it affecting me so much?” You say, voice muffled as you cover your face with your hands.
“Hey, come on it’s not pathetic.” Eddie says, gently pulling your hands away from your face. “You just got a big heart, so your feelings are stronger. Nothing wrong with it.”
You turn your head to look at him, feeling guilty for needing comfort but also grateful for it. “Real good that’s done.” You chuckle without any joy, “I should’ve known better.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Robin chides, moving to sit on the couch, urging you to rest your head on her lap.
“Thank you.” You tell Robin, and then Eddie. “I’ll be okay, eventually.”
“How?” Robin asks, shaking her head at you, as she runs a hand over your head.
“I just need to sort out my feelings for Steve; put them back on the box they were in before.” You explain, trying to convince them and yourself at the same time. 
“And when Harrington goes on another date?” Eddie echoes your conscience beside you which makes you turn to look at him again.
You bring your gaze back to the ceiling when you feel yourself tear up once more. Will your heart survive something like this once again? What if you see him kissing someone else. What pain will that cause?
Eddie places his hand over yours, his rings cold against your skin. “You’re crying just at the thought of it, buttercup.”
You cover your face with your hands again as the tears continue to come, falling down your cheeks in earnest. “I need to get over these feelings. I need to forget that I ever fell in love with him.” You shake your head. “I need to get away, clear my head.”
“And go where?” Eddie asks, doubt and concern lacing his tone.
“Your aunt’s” Robin says a second later and two pairs of eyes turn to  look at her. “She’s always asking you to visit, you can go there.”
Robin is right, Aunt Maggie is always asking when you’ll visit her again. She has a lovely farm with a light blue painted house. It’s been a while since you last drove there and you’d be lying if you say you didn’t miss her. Two birds, one stone.
“Wheres that?” Eddie asks, his hands now playing with his hair anxiously.
“Ohio, a little out of Columbus.” You rub at your eyes, “I can drive, it’s less than 4 hours away.”
“So that’s it, you’re leaving?” Eddie looks at you like you’ve lost your mind and you shrug. Maybe you have, but there’s no denying you need to figure out how to move forward after tonight. Doing so 4 hours away from Hawkins and without having to actively ignore Steve seems like the best alternative.
 “I’m off work until Wednesday next week, it works.” You tell your friends, sitting up on the couch. You look at Robin, thankful for her memory. “I’ll call Aunt Margaret in the morning.”
“I don’t want you to, but…” Robin sighs, slouching where she sits. “When do you think you’ll leave?” Though you can see she’s trying to act casual, you know she’s nervous for you; worried.
“Probably Sunday?” You run a hand over your head, “I need to pack.”
“You don’t have to leave.” Eddie is shaking his head, opposing your idea.
“Eds, I just need to be with my thoughts for a while, see what I’m going to do. Otherwise, I won’t stop hurting, and all the crying is going to dehydrate me, and I’ll end up dead.”
Or your heart will give out. Your eyes tear up again, like they’re not done crying. Not yet. “Fuck, not again.”
“I just want you to be okay. I’ve never seen you cry, sweetums. Ever. Tonight has been shocking to say the least.” Though you can’t see him, you can hear the frown Eddie has on his face as he speaks.
Robin puts her hand on your knee, patting it twice. “We just want you to smile again, for real. Like you did earlier tonight.”
“Well, I was going to eat some fries and a burger, and I thought the guy I love might like me back.”  You chuckle and wipe your tears again, uselessly. “I will be okay, I feel absolutely empty right now, but I will be better. A change of scenery will help me.” You hope.
“So, Sunday?” The two of them ask you.
“Sunday.” You nod and swallow hard, deciding to give them both a smile instead of more crying.
“I hope you’re right about this.” Robin mumbles.
“Me too.” You say, hoping things will work out.
 ✫✫✫✫
 Sunday morning eventually arrives, and you wake up early in the morning to make sure you have everything you need for the next 3 days. You pack a couple snacks and some water bottles for the road, take your car to fill up the gas tank, and pack anything else you might need. Robin arrives at 10am, Eddie at 10:15, to load your things in your car and say goodbye before you leave.
“How did Steve take it?” Robin asks you. The three of you sit on your front door’s steps, waiting for Steve to arrive. It didn’t feel right in your heart to leave without saying goodbye to him, so you called him last night.
You sigh, “He was very confused, you know how he is. He asked a bunch of questions, but I told him I’d explain today.”
“Explain, huh?” Eddie says with a chuckle next to you.
“You know what I mean, Munson.” You roll your eyes and bump his shoulder with yours. “The necessary information only.”
Just then you hear a car approach in the distance and recognize it as it comes closer to you house. Steve speeds to your driveway, barely putting his car on park before he’s sliding out of it and walking towards you. A frown pulls down at his lips, there’s a crease between his brows as he furrows them and his hair is a dishevelled from running his finger through it —it still works for him, it always does. Damn you for always looking so good Steve, you think as you see the way the blue polo he’s wearing fits him.
You stand to greet him, offering a small wave when he stops in front of you. “Hey.”
“Babe, what? You’re leaving?” Steve is shaking his head when he steps closer to you, brows still furrowed in question.
“Aunt Maggie called me, Steve, she asked me to visit.” You explain. Your hands fidget with each other in front of you. “You know she lives alone, maybe she needs some company.”
“So this time you just accepted her invitation?” Steve sounds confused, like you’re not making any sense and you know you probably aren’t, but you nod anyway.
“Yeah…”
Steve brings his hand up, close to your face and rubs the skin of your under eye softly with his thumb—his frown deepens. “You haven’t been sleeping well?”
When you can only shrug—speechless from his touch— Steve sighs. “Why are you really leaving, beautiful?”
There he goes again with the pet names, making your heart race, and confusing it at the same time. He is so caring, and worries so much you wish you could tell him the truth; that it wouldn’t make you lose him. “There are some things I need to figure out.” You say when you look at the floor then back at him. You don’t want to lie to him, so a vague truth would have to do.
“You can talk to me, you know that. You can tell me anything.” Steve says softly, his eyes pleading you to talk to him or maybe to stay? You’re not sure.
Not this, you think, I can’t tell you this. “I hope I can, Stevie. Eventually.”
You step closer and hug him wishing for nothing more than to comfort him. The minute you’re in his arms you curse your body for fitting so perfectly against his, and the way it relaxes under his touch. You melt against him for a second, your mind spiraling further. You’re the only one for me, can’t you see? Can’t you tell how perfect this feels? But you’ll never see me as the one for you. Steve’s arms are a reassuring weight on your shoulder, and the way he hunches to cocoon you in his chest makes you sigh softly; softly enough he doesn’t hear you.
“Call me, yeah? I don’t know your aunt’s number.” Steve mumbles above your ear. it tickles you but you dare not move from his embrace. Not yet.
“Robin has it. I’ll call you though, to tell you I arrived okay.” You nod, knowing he feels the movement.
“And drive with caution.” He says next, his tone serious before his voice becomes softer. “ I could have driven you.”
“It’s like an 8 hour round trip Steve, I’d never ask that of you.” You shake your head against his shoulder, involuntarily breathing him in.
Steve reluctantly nods, still frowning you imagine but you don’t blame him. Even without your romantic feelings involved, it would make you sad to leave town for a while. This separation from him though necessary is killing you on the inside. “Just be careful, okay? I’ll miss you.”
You nod against his shoulder again. “I’ll miss you too..” You step back, putting some distance between you and looking into his eyes one more time.  I’ll miss everything about you, you want to say.
“Let me check your car, make sure it’s alright for the road.” Steve is still frowning as he scratches his cheek anxiously. “Won’t take long.”
“Thank you, Stevie.” You muster your most convincing smile while your heart aches at his concern. He nods, and walks back to the driveway.
Robin’s arms envelop you a second later, squeezing you tightly. You return her fierce embrace with one of your own, sighing at the thought of leaving her behind. “Sorry to leave you with all the boys.” You tell her.
Robin takes a step back. “Please come back, okay? And call me when you get to aunt Maggie’s ‘cause then I’ll know you’re safe and sound. Don’t forget, or else I will end up hitchhiking to Ohio just to make sure you’re safe and with so many weirdos out there who knows where I’ll end up.” Robin starts to ramble, her eyes serious and her hands clutching your shoulders to get her message across.
You nod your head, smiling at her concern and creative mind. “I will call you, just please don’t hitchhike alright? Ask someone to drive you if you need to check that I’m not dead.”
Robin nods, her short hair bouncing lightly on her head. “I’ll miss you.”
“I will too.” You give her another hug before you move over to hug Eddie, who stands next to her.
Eddie’s leather jacket is cool to the touch, but it doesn’t take away any warmth from his hug. “You’ll be alright buttercup. Things might seem shitty right now, but it’ll get better.”
“Thank you, Eddie.” You say, voice small as you step back and look at him, grateful for his words and his support. “For everything. You’re a good friend.”
He dismisses the compliment with a wave of his hand, smiling softly at you. “You need anything, call us. We’ll get to you as fast as we can. Right, Harrington?” His eyes move to your car, and you turn around to find Steve there closing the hood.
You walk to him and stand next to the driver’s side. “Is it good to go?”
Steve nods, staring at the floor and then looking into your eyes again. “Come back, okay babe? I sure hope you find me here when you do, and that I haven’t crashed myself into a car because the kids drove me crazy while you were gone.”
You laugh at his joke and his own laughter follows soon after. Your eyes light up at the smile on his face, the way his eyes squint against the sun and wrinkle in the corners with his smile. You adore him, you are seriously fucked. “I’ll be back here on Wednesday, Stevie.” You smile at him, forgetting about everything for a second and kissing his cheek. “Don’t crash your car.”
With that, you slide into the driver’s seat, start the car, and drive away.
Steve stands in the driveway and stares after your car as it becomes smaller in the distance, until it turns a corner and disappears from view. It doesn’t feel right, fuck, it’s not right. Why did everything decide go to shit all of a sudden?
“You know Harrington, I did not take you for a blind man.” Eddie says to him, rubbing his chin before he shakes his head.
Steve puts his hands on his hips. “What’s that supposed to mean, Munson?” He’s lost, he’s been so confused since Friday. What had happened?
“Nothing,” Eddie puts his hands up. “I just think it’s sad that you’re so lucky, but you fail to see it.” Eddie gives him a small smile, then goes to his car as Steve stands there feeling more confused than before.
“Munson! Eddie! Come on what’s that supposed to mean?” Steve calls after him, but Eddie doesn’t turn around.
“You’ll figure it out eventually.” Is all Eddie says before getting into his car and driving away.
Steve turns, looking at Robin with pleading eyes. If there’s something he’s missing, which he’s sure he is, she must know it. “Robs?” He asks. “‘You gonna tell me what’s going on?”
Robin flicks his nose, then chuckles. “You should go home, dingus. Sit on it for a while, it’ll come to you.” She turns around and starts to walk along the sidewalk back to her place, leaving Steve to think over her words.
It’ll come to you. What will?
✫✫✫✫
 It, in fact, did not come to him. Not on Sunday, and definitely not on Monday, especially with Robin’s refusal to help him out. No clues, no explanations, nothing. Steve’s hair is in a permanent state of disarray from constantly running his fingers through it. You were gone, and though you had talked to him briefly on the phone it just wasn’t enough. Steve feels like he’s going to lose his mind. You’ve been acting weird since the weekend, dodging dinner with what he thinks is a lie about being sick, then randomly leaving to Ohio. There was also the fact that your eyes looked sad, the last time he saw you, your smile only coming through when he joked right before you left. It had filled his chest with joy, but then you drove away and everything inside him deflated. He feels like a walking carcass, a shadow, a lost pet walking down the streets. Had he done something to upset you? Would you ever tell him what?
“You’ve been checking that list out for more than an hour, you know that right?” Robin speaks up from where she sits, reading a magazine with her boots propped up on the counter.
Family video is empty around him, like it always is on Tuesdays, and Steve looks down at the inventory list he’s holding. Every box is checked already, but he zoned out thinking about you and now he looks like an idiot standing by the drama aisle. How fitting.
“Shit.” Steve sighs, walking to place the list on the counter. He rests his head there, squeezing his eyes shut. There are too many questions swirling in his mind; it feels like he’s going crazy ––so he starts to pace. “What if she doesn’t come back Robin!”
“Why wouldn’t she?” She asks vaguely, and Steve knows she’s only half listening to him. “She has a shift at the deli on Thursday.”
“She left last minute, something must have happened. And it has to do with me, because she didn’t tell me until the last minute! I’m her best friend, I’m always the first to know.” Steve runs a hand through his hair again, and stares at the carpeted floor while he walks the whole length of the counter and back. “Then there’s you and Munson being so mysterious about all this, not telling me anything.”
“Steve.” Robin sighs, “I don’t think there’s a point in me telling you, I think you already know what happened, but your mind doesn’t process it yet.”
“I don’t know!” Steve throws his hands up in exasperation at the same time the front door opens. Dustin, Max, and Lucas storm inside, determined looks on their faces.
“Where is she?” Dustin demands, foregoing all manners as he looks from Steve to Robin.
“Who?” Robin asks, not looking up from her magazine.
“You know who!” Dustin says, rolling his eyes. “She’s not been at the Deli for two days.”
“And she won’t answer the phone at home. Her parents said she’s away. Where?” Max asks, furrowing her eyes when she looks at Steve. “Did you do something?”
 “No! I’m as lost as all of you are.” Steve rolls his eyes. “She’s been acting weird since Friday.”
“She seemed fine to me.” Lucas shrugs, the crosses his arms over his chest. “She gave us some sandwiches, then we talked for a while. Everything was normal.”
“Yeah, well she bailed on dinner with us because she got sick from eating a sandwich.” Steve shakes his head, looking away from the accusatory looks the teenagers were giving him.
“From a sandwich?” Max says, a confused look crossing her features. “Can’t be, she ate half of mine and I’m fine.”
Steve’s head turns to the redhead so fast, he’s sure he risked whiplash. “What?”
“I told you.” Dustin says with an eye roll. “None of us were sick on Friday.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t tell me she shared a sandwich with Max!” Steve points a finger at him, then sighs and rests his hands on his hips. “So, she just bailed? Didn’t go to the mall? She told me she was excited.”
“You didn’t see her there?” Lucas asks.
“No, Eddie drove Robin that night, she wasn’t around.” Steve shakes his head, then looks at the teens in front of him suspiciously. “What do you know?”
“Eddie couldn’t have driven Robin; he ran out of D&D and then drove to the mall. He said he was running late.” Dustin explains, his eyebrows are furrowed in concentration and Steve knows he’s trying to figure the puzzle out. “So, she must have driven Robin, but why did she leave?”
 “Why did she lie?” Steve wonders aloud.
“Maybe she changed her mind.” Lucas supplies and Max shakes her head.
“That’s not it.” Max mumbles, at the same time Robin speaks up.
“Maybe she saw something she didn’t like.”
“I knew it! You know something!” Steve says, turning to face Robin at the same moment she lowers her magazine.
Her gaze is serious, “Think about it, Steve. What did you do on Friday.”
All teenagers turn to him, expectant looks on their faces to hear what Steve has to say.
Steve’s face transforms into a grimace. “I went on a bad date with someone.”
“What?!” Dustin, Max, and Lucas, yell at the same time.
The outrage in their eyes makes Steve put his hands up. “What do you mean ‘what?!’”
Max pretends to think, then speaks up. “Um, aren’t you like completely gone for Y/N?”
“Why would you go on a date with someone else?” Dustin shakes his head.
Steve scratches the back of his neck and looks down at the floor. He almost messed up on Friday afternoon, when he went to the deli to see you. You had looked just so fucking pretty ––like you always do–– with your hair styled in that way that makes Steve crazy and that pink lip-gloss on your lips. It was like you were trying to drive him out of his mind that day, and Steve being the idiot he is, had slipped. He’d leaned too close to you, he let his eyes shift down to your lips and fucking blushed when you caught him staring. He’d given into the impulse of touching your hand and was pretty sure he would have kissed you had a customer not arrived. He felt so stupid, the one thing he told himself not to do ––let you find out he’s in love with you–– and he went ahead and almost blew it. You had smiled so prettily at him, and it took everything in him to put distance between the two of you. So, after leaving the deli, flustered and in a rush, Steve looked for a date to bring to dinner that night. Anything to get the feelings that had surfaced in check, and to cover up his slip in front of you.
“So I would be forced to think about someone else but her! So she wouldn’t figure out I like her!” Steve shakes his head, disliking the way everyone is looking at him like he’s a blind man. Just like Munson said on Sunday.
“It all makes sense now.” Dustin nods, and everyone agrees. Everyone but Steve.
“No,” Steve shakes his head. “What? It doesn’t.”
Robin groans and puts her magazine down. “How would you feel if it had been you in her place, Steve?”
Steve looks down to the floor again, thinking about it. He thinks about you on a date with someone else, some dude who would get to hold your hand and make you laugh. It immediately hurts something inside of him, and he clenches his fists by his sides. “That makes no sense, it would suck, but only because I have feelings for her.”
Max is going to say something, but Robin holds her hand up and speaks first. Her eyes are trained on Steve. “He’ll realize it, give him a minute.”
Steve thinks about the way you lied about being sick and avoided dinner on Friday, those are things he would do too, if he is being honest. He thinks about the possibility of you having feelings for him, about his love not being unrequited and it all makes sense. Your avoidance, the way you looked so sad on Sunday. He’d hurt you, and now you thought he was in love with someone else. Your heart. Steve winces as he thinks about how you must have felt, your heart, so kind and so big, it must have hurt that night. It might even still hurt right now. All because of him.
“So she…” Steve mumbles, speechless at the thought.
 “YES STEVE!” Everyone yells at him, and that is enough to jump-start his heart and his mind. It spurs him into action.
 “Shit! Shit!” Steve says, patting his pockets for his keys. “I have to go, I gotta go see her and–– and I’ll figure out the rest on the way.”
 “We’re coming with you!” Robin jumps up from her seat, a look of triumph on her face. “Told you you’d figure it out.”
 “Keith, we gotta go!” Steve yells over his shoulder, running to the door and flipping the store’s sign to close. “Take it out of my paycheck!”
Everyone squeezes into Steve’s car, with barely any time to put their seat belts on before Steve reverses out of his parking spot and speeds out of the lot. He sees everything with new eyes. Hope flourishing on his chest. He needs flowers, and he needs to think over what he’ll say. He’s got 4 hours, more than enough time.
 ✫✫✫✫
 The days you spent at Aunt Maggie’s house had been everything but uneventful. She had welcomed you with open arms and showed you the new things she’d changed around the house since your last visit. From then on you had kept busy, thankful for the distractions, working on the garden, watering the many flowers planted around the property, driving to town and running errands for your aunt. Then there was Saturn, Aunt Maggie’s golden retriever, who had done wonders to your mood the moment you arrived. But still, your feelings and thoughts always found a way to creep up on you. You thought and missed Steve, constantly, unable to tune him out like you hoped, and every phone call with him cemented the fact that you can’t go on lying to him. He is still your best friend, and even though you’re going to lose him you came to the decision to tell him the truth. You’ll tell him that you’re in love with him once you’re back in Hawkins. You figure, that if you’re going to end up hurt either way ––pining while he dates someone else or alone after you confess your feelings–– you might as well get hurt from telling the truth.
You are just about done baking some cookies, taking them out of the oven and setting them on the counter to cool, when you hear a car approaching the house. The gravel road crunches under its weigh, and you look out the window to see if Aunt Maggie was back from her book club. But it isn’t her car that’s approaching, it’s Steve’s. Tiny pieces of dirt fly everywhere as the tires move on the small and secluded path to the house. The sun that’s still shinning, though lower on the sky, glints on the windshield and conceals who’s inside. You try to keep your emotions in check, but your stomach flips traitorously at the thought of it being Steve.
Saturn barks next to you, propping his paws on the kitchen counter to look out the window. A second later he dashes to the front door, and barks to let you know he wants to go out. You take your apron off, and walk to the living room, lingering by the front door for a moment as you wonder what the hell is going on. Your aunt’s dog runs outside the moment you open the door, surprising Max, Lucas and Dustin when they open the back door. Robin is next to slide out of the car, opening the passenger door and running to where you stand.
“Hey stranger.” She smiles, her arms hugging you tightly as you chuckle. You hug her back, smiling widely at the sight of your friend.
“Hey yourself.” You say. “What are you––?”
“YN!” The three teenagers run to you. They shove Robin out of the way before they hug you and though you try, you can’t make out a single word they’re saying. It could be gibberish, or something serious but you can’t focus on any of it because Steve steps out of his car in that moment.
“There are cookies on the kitchen counter.” You tell the three of them after your hug, and it’s enough to get them running inside the house.
Steve walks around his car and stands there, in the sun, holding a small bouquet of colourful flowers. His face is serious, save for a small smile he sends your way, and with just one look you can tell something is different. But you don’t know what.
“Hi.” He says when you walk towards him, eyes shining in a new way that confuses you even more.
“Hi, Stevie.” You smile, then tilt your head slightly. “What are you doing here?”
Steve offers you the flowers with a shrug and when you take them from him, his hand holds your wrist gently. “I came to see you, I have to tell you something.”
You look at his hand when it lets go of you, and swallow hard. “I––I do too.” You say, taking a deep breath and looking into his eyes. How is it that he got prettier in just 3 days.
Steve starts to speak but you speak up first, needing to tell him the truth once and for all ––before you chicken out. “I love you Steve. I––I have feelings for you, so many that I can’t hide them anymore. I saw you on Friday at the mall when you were out on a date and it… well it broke my heart.” You shake your head, looking away and to the side.
You gather courage with another deep breath and look at him again. “I didn’t know how to face you without you finding out about my feelings, so I lied about being sick. I’m sorry for lying, I hated it, I hated being away from you too. But I decided to let you know how I felt, regardless of the consequences. I understand if this makes things between us weird.”
Steve shakes his head, holding you free hand. “Babe––”
“Please don’t call me that if you don’t mean it like it means to me, Stevie.” Tears have gathered in your eyes, and you brush them away quickly. “I can’t take it.”
He takes a step closer to you, making the distance between the two of you smaller. You breathe in sharply at the proximity, only to become breathless a second later. “Babe, baby, beautiful, gorgeous, sweetheart.” Steve whispers to you, his eyes adoring and melting you on the spot. “I mean them all, I’ve meant all of them.” Steve confesses and brings his hands up  to cradle your face, his smile is almost shy as he speaks.
At your stunned silence Steve continues, growing more confident. “I love you, I’ve loved you for so long. I only went on a date because I almost kissed you that morning and tried to get over you. And I failed because it’s impossible to get over you.” He shakes his head and closes his eyes. “I’m sorry I hurt you because I never thought you’d feel the same way, you’re way too good for me.”
“No, I’m not.” You shake your head, tears blur your vision for a whole different reason this time. “You deserve everything, Steve.”
“I just need you, only you, babygirl.” His thumb rubs your cheek softly, it makes you close your eyes. “You were gone 3 days and it was hell…I thought I was going to lose you.”
“Stevie.” You whisper. You feel speechless as you stare up at him in wonder and in love, struck with the truth and the relief that you don’t have to give each other up after all. “We’ve been so wrong.”
Steve only nods, understanding the look in your eyes like he’s thinking the same thing. “Gotta make it right.”
You look at his lips then back at his eyes, feeling your face burn when Steve smiles at you.
 His pupils dilate as he takes you in, his eyes feeling like a caress everywhere he looks. “I’m yours, baby.” He says softly, “You can kiss me.”
You settle your hands on his shoulders and you lean in, feeling electricity go through your whole body when Steve’s lips touch yours. Every breath on your body leaves you at one, every thought disappears from your mind, and it only leaves room for you to focus on the person in front of you. Your best friend, who’s lips fit so perfectly with yours, you’re not sure how the two of you took so long to take this next step. Because you were both idiots, your mind supplies. You tune it out and wrap your arms around Steve’s neck, pressing your chests together in the process and bringing you even closer. One of Steve’s hands that cradled your cheek moves to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss, and you can’t help the sigh that leaves you. Goosebumps rise on your skin when you feel his tongue brush your bottom lip, his hand tangle in your hair, his teeth lightly catching one of your lips between them. It’s perfect, it overwhelms your senses, it makes you want to stay in this moment forever. You wonder briefly, if this is all a dream but shut that thought down immediately. There’s no way you could conjure up a dream this perfect, a dream that feels so right.
You smile, then laugh when the joy you feel is impossible to hold back, and Steve pulls back with a matching smile of his own. “There it is my girl’s smile. ‘Was going fucking crazy not seeing it for more than a day.” He says.
Your smile brightens, your heart soars inside your chest at how right it all feels. “I missed you, Stevie.”
Steve’s hands drift down to your waist and bring you closer to him; his eyes dark from your kiss softening after a moment. “I missed you more, come back home yeah?”
“I will.” You nod, matching Steve’s shining smile. You hold back a giggle, an idea popping up in your mind just like it did last Friday. “I just have one question.”
“Sure babe.” Steve leans down, his lips placing a couple of barely-there kisses on your cheeks. “Anything.”
“Did you see that updog on the way here?”
 “What’s updog?” He asks distracted, lips against your skin.
 “Nothing, what’s up with you?” You giggle, and soon start laughing at the look of absolute defeat on Steve’s face. “Told you I’d make you fall for it eventually.”
 “Oh come on, I was distracted! You tricked me.”
 You cackle as he tries to deny the fact that he fell for your prank and Steve’s eyes squint with determination. His fingers flutter on your waist and you squirm out of his reach, knowing what’s on his mind. There’s no way you’ll let him tickle you. Steve laughs when you start running away to the open field next to the house. He runs after you, following your own laughter, his heart so full it could burst.
 You look over your shoulder and smile. “I love you!” You tell him, just because you can, and can’t help but thank fate for this turn of events when Steve yells back:
“I love you.”
tagging some very nice people: @magnitude101999​ @steveslittlesunflower​ @avengersbabe13​ @vulgarfuckinvirgo​ @k1ngeddie​
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txttletale · 2 months
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sorry this ask isnt about flags :( i saw your post about the word "trafficking" and i just wanted to ask for more clarity? is your point that we shouldnt refer to situations where someone is forced or coerced into sex work as "trafficking" (and should just consider it sex work but under duress) OR that "human trafficking" and "sex trafficking" (or other terms i may not be familiar with) should be talked about with more specificity rather than just talking about "trafficking", in which the crime is "moving people", OR that the concept of "trafficking" in its entirety is derived from the idea that people in certain places is wrong? im asking in good faith because i was under the impression that specifically when addressing sex work its important to make a distinction between people who are sex workers and people who are being sex trafficked, but admittedly my knowledge could be outdated because its not a field i have much access to.
i hope this is clear!
yeah my post is more or less in opposition to 'trafficking' as a word. obviously it is important to distinguish between people who are being directly forced into sex work and people who aren't -- but to describe the problem as ''sex trafficking'' creates an association between the movement of people and sexual slavery that can only lead to reactionary policy positions. in the vast, vast majority cases of what you might unambiguously call ''sex trafficking'', the women and girls being ''trafficked'' wanted to move to the country they're smuggled into, usually (but not always) with the promise of a job. then their passports are stolen and they are told they owe the people who brought them into the country ridiculous amounts of money. unable to go to the police due to fear of being deported, they have no choice but to work for free or for vastly subminimum wages as sex workers in an unsafe and coerved capacity. (nb: this exact thing also happens with agricultural and domestic workers).
obviously this is horrifying, but what's really important to note is that the victims wanted to enter the country and that it is often 'anti-trafficking' border-tightening restrictions that make it more difficult for them to do anything about their situation by making their presence in the country more precarious. describing this as ''trafficking'' makes it seem like the illegal immigration is more or just as troubling as the sexual (or nonsexual) slavery and effective imprisonment, when this is just obviously a reactionary position to take.
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ssa-atlas-alvez · 1 year
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okay but. imagine cowboy!reader is actually very educated. pro-LGBTQ, pro-choice, BLM, acab. very big speaker and doesn't take shit. BUT everyone thinks he isn't gonna educated and such until they're on a case dealing with like a trans kid and he's the first one to step up and comfort the kid and such. man im in the rabbit hole.
Allergies (Not Really)
No no no no no but the way I've started one where something of this theme happens (I don't want to give too much away aha)
Word count: 3.6k
Warnings: transphobia, sad reader :( (i teared up a little ngl - it's not sad, he's just sad), guns, bullet wound, fighting, briefly mentions some murders to set the scene a bit, someone calls reader a redneck
Also I just want to say that the relationship between Mia and (Y/N) is completely platonic, maybe familial (a bit older brother-y or fatherly) not anything else. Just because I'm panicking because they spend a lot of time joking about and I wanna make that clear.
Taglist: @xweirdo101x @xdark-acadamiax
Your blood boils when you hear the case, an unsub has been targeting young families (parents and three kids all under the age of sixteen). The last family had a survivor, a twelve-year-old transgender girl named Mia, who was currently in the hospital being treated for a variety of injuries.
Your jaw clenches as you read the hospital report, whilst it wasn't too long (thankfully), you knew she would still have a lot to work through mentally.
"You alright over there, Eastwood?" Morgan asks.
"Just angers me, is all," You answer, not feeling the need to elaborate, feeling the source of your anger being fairly self-explanatory. You miss the concerned look Rossi and Hotch share. 
A few hours later, the jet landed, once everyone was situated at the police station, you turned to the team.
"I'm gonna head to the hospital, make sure Mia's okay," You said.
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Rossi’s the one that says it, but you can see everyone's thinking the same thing. 
"Wha- Why wouldn't it be?... Oh I see," You say as the penny finally drops and it clicks, "Y'all think 'cause I'm from the South I'm against her bein' herself?" You sigh softly, rubbing the back of your neck, "Have I not proved myself yet?"
No one says anything for a moment, shocked by the hurt that flashes in your eyes, before they can, you pick your hat back up, settling it on your head, "I'm headin' to the hospital,” You mumble, leaving the room before anyone can say anything.
When you leave the room, you rub your eyes with the back of your hand. 'Not crying,' You try and convince yourself, 'allergies.' You trying to ignore the fact you know, 100%, that you don't have any allergies. 
You get into one of the SUV's and begin making your way to the hospital, ignoring your phone as it lit up with various concerned messages.
The receptionist was a nice woman and was quick to show you to Mia's room (after staring at you hungrily for a few minutes). You gave a small knock before walking in.
"Are you here to tell me I'm too young to know myself as well?" 
You furrow your eyebrows, "No, who told you that?" 
"One of the nurses," She answers with a shrug. 
"You know which one?" 
"The guy with brown hair," She shrugs as she answers, "It's fine though, happens all the time." 
"I personally don't think y'all are too young to realise who you are," You said with a shrug, "I think anyone who thinks that is trynna hide their bias by invalidatin' your identity."
Mia looks at you for a moment, "I like you." She states, "I thought you were going to be against it." 
"I've been gettin' that a lot today, it would seem," You mumble before your head snaps to the door, relaxing when it's just JJ. "Anyway, I'm (Y/N), this is my colleague, Agent Jareau. Mia, you a'right if we ask you a few questions?" 
"Sure,"
"Could you run us through what happened that night?"
"Mum and dad were cooking. We were all sitting at the table doing our homework, and someone knocked on the door." Mia began, "They asked me to open the door, and he grabbed me and put a gun to my head. He shot my dad, then-"
You gave her a small, encouraging smile, "You're doin' great,"
"Did you get a look at the person that did this?" JJ asked, when Mia nodded, she continued, "What did they look like?"
Your eyes widen in worry as the heart machine next to Mia picks up, as does her breathing. You pull yourself together and turn your attention to her, "Mia? Mia, hey," Your voice is soft as you kneel next to her, "You need to take some deep breaths for me sweetheart,"
"Can't-"
You nod at her, "Yes, yes you can," You encourage, "Deep breaths, in, one, two, three, four, five, and out. That was good, keep going," 
It takes a moment, but her breathing evens out and she appeared to be less anxious, "There we go," You grin, "Told ya," 
"Okay, Texas," Your jaw drops slightly, the joke catching you off guard. 
"That's not fair, I can't even say anythin' back without bullin' a child," 
"Ha ha." She responds, you throw your hands up in the air, smiling when she laughs at you. 
JJ rolls her eyes slightly at you with a small smile as the doctor walks in with a few nurses for a routine checkup. Your eyebrows furrow when you see a male nurse with brown hair. Your eyes flick to the name badge, 'Darren', assuming this is the same nurse, you make a mental note of his name.
"We'll be just outside, a'right?"
Her hand shoots out, clinging onto your sleeve, "No! Don't leave!" She looks at you slightly hesitantly, "Please?"
"Hey, hey, it's a'right, I'll stay here," You answer, eyes flicking down to her for a moment before turning to JJ.
"Hotch wants me to go with Morgan to the scene," JJ said, "You good here? I'll let him know,"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm good here and thanks," You give a small smile.
When the doctor and nurses left, you turned to Mia, "That nurse you mentioned earlier? The brown-haired one? Was he in the room just now?" 
Mia nodded, "Yeah,"
"Had a name badge on, name Darren?" Mia nodded once more. "Alright, I'll be back in a moment,"
"Where are you going?"
"I just want a quick word with this Darren fella," You shrug, seeing the look on Mia's face you roll your eyes slightly, "Don't you worry your little head about it, I'm not gonna hurt him or anythin'."
"Okay..." She said.
"Is that a'right?"
Mia shrugged, "Sure." You nodded before exiting the room.
Furrowing your eyes when you came face to face with Rossi, "Howdy, I'm just popping out for a few," You said. 
Rossi nodded, walking into the room after you had left. "I'm Agent Rossi," He said, "I work with (Y/N),"
"The cowboy?"
"Yeah, the cowboy," Rossi huffs a small laugh as he sits in his seat. "Have the staff here been treating you okay?"
Mia shrugs, "Yeah," She answers, "There was one nurse but I think Texas has gone to sort him out or something. He might beat him up."
Rossi smiles slightly, "Texas?" 
"Yeah, the cowboy," She said, "I think he's frustrated that everyone keeps assuming he's going to be against me being trans... I'd be frustrated too, I think," She added after a moment's thought. 
You leave Mia, now feeling slightly better that Rossi will be there whilst you're gone. Spotting your target, you speed up.
"Excuse me! Nurse?" The man turns towards you, Darren. "I just wanted to have a word with you about Mia?"
You watch as Darren shifts uncomfortably. "Yes?"
"I just wanted to say that perhaps telling someone they're too young to understand 'emselves probably doesn't make 'em feel a whole lotta good about 'emselves."
Darren looks you up and down slightly as he takes a few steps towards you. "And what exactly do you know?" He scoffs, "I'm surprised a redneck such as yourself can read and write."
"That's some nice deflection there," You said sarcastically, trying not to let it show how much the stereotypes flung into your face hurt. "Just... don't be a dick. If you don't understand somethin', look it up. I'm sure you can read. So perhaps do your research before you project onto a twelve year old girl." With that, you give a forced smile before turning on your heels and head back to Mia's room.
"Welp, that outta have done it," You give a lopsided grin, "A'right Rossi?" 
"I'm fine Kid, you okay?" 
"Yes sir," You answered, "I might grab myself a drink, y'all want anything?"
Mia laughs, "Y'all?"
"Rossi, Imma need your assistance, I'm getting bullied by a twelve year old," 
"Sorry, Kiddo, can't help you there." He chuckled, "I will ask that you grab me a coffee though."
"Coming right up!" 
Hours later, she's sat up on the bed whilst you're sat on a chair (a rather uncomfortable one) next to the bed, Rossi having left an hour ago, both of your gazes focused on a small, empty glass bottle that stood on the overbed tables. Each armed with a small piece of string as a makeshift lasso. 
"You're not a very good cowboy, are you?" Mia observes as you miss once more. 
"Hey, I haven't done this in a while," 
"How longs a while? Never?" She asked, throwing the lasso perfectly once more. 
"I'll have you know its been, okay so it's been like ten years, a'right? You were two last time I had to lasso something," 
"Wow, you're old." 
"I had no idea twelve year olds were so mean, you're about to make a grown man cry,"
Mia gave a laugh, you quickly joining in. You flung the lasso half-heartedly, eyes widening as it hit its target perfectly. "Yeehaw!" 
"Yeehaw? Seriously? You're so lame." You jaw dropped once more. You both jumped as gunshots echoed throughout the hospital, you sat up straight, immediately turning to Mia.
"Mia, I need you to take this," You handed your phone over to her, "The pass code is 1999, okay? You need to phone Hotch. Lock the door behind me, go into the bathroom and lock that door too, okay?"
Mia looked up at you with wide, scared eyes, "Are you gonna be okay?"
"I'm gonna be absolutely fine, a'right?" When she nodded, you gave her a smile, "Don't open this door until I tell you to, or Hotch phones and says to okay?" 
You shut the door, not moving until you heard it lock in place. When you heard the soft click, you nodded to yourself as you began to make your way towards sound.
Seeing a nurse, you jogged up to her, "Ma'am, try and get everyone into their rooms, tell them not to come out, okay?" The nurse nods and runs off. You continue cautiously towards the sound of gunshots, revolver clutched in your hands.
When you find him, he's holding a person close to his chest, what with that and the people running past you, you don't have a clear shot. You meeting eyes with the wide yes of the hostage against his chest, you look at her, giving a small nod as you inch closer. 
When the moment's right, she ducks her head, pulls her elbow back, before slamming it into the guy's ribs. As he curls over, she wiggles out of her grasp, joining the others in fleeing. With a sigh, you brace yourself before charging at the man, tackling him to the floor.
It takes a moment for the unsub to recover, in that time you've delivered a few blows to his face, both of your guns falling during the tackle. He's quick to flip you over, he aims for the torso first, delivering a handful of well-aimed punches. Next, he takes a fist of your hair, slamming your head into the floor. Once, twice, three times before you get the momentum needed to push him off you.
You staggered up, paying no mind to the pain in your head throbbing in beat with your pulse, the blood on the side of you head that's slowly dripping into your eye, or the ache that's spread through your abdomen. You had to either distract this guy until the team got here or knock him out. Either way, you weren't about to let yourself pass out and let this bastard hurt Mia.
As you're breathing deeply through the pain, the unsub has stood, he (however) is not as chivalrous, so he takes the moment make his way over to you. He grabs your shoulders as he pulls his knee to your groin, pushing you to the floor as you double over in pain. Happy with having the advantage, he continues to aim cheap blows to your sides.
Despite this, you stumble up once more, you keeping your left arm wrapped close to your ribs on your right. They were definitely bruised as a minimum. You duck the punch sent your way, wincing slightly as it pulls on your arm and ribs. Both of your eyes lock on the gun at the same time as the pair of you dive for it. He reaches it first, gripping it tightly in his hands as you immediately go for it, to loosen his grip, anything you can think of.
There's a bang and you grunt as a bullet enters the top of your left arm, adding insult to injury. Okay, so disarming him didn't really work.
"FBI!" You sigh in relief as the unsub is pulled away from you, letting your head fall against the cold floor with your eyes closed - trying to get a grip on the pain. You listen as they cuff the bastard before dragging him out of the hospital. You let your eyes flutter open as you begin to push yourself off of the floor. 
"I'm fine," You mumbled, shrugging Hotch's hands off you, "I'm fine, check on Mia."
"Morgan, stay with (Y/N)."
When Hotch is gone, you turn to Morgan, "I'm fine, go help Hotch."
"Sorry, got my order," Morgan said with a shrug. You don't answer, as much as you don't want to admit it, the pain was really starting you affect your headspace. You felt like you couldn't think. "Come on, let's get you checked out." 
You shook your head, "No, I need to check on Mia first," You mumbled, giving a low groan as you pushed yourself up. 
"Alright, lead the way," Morgan said. You don't answer, simply forcing one foot in front of the other until you're back at Mia's room.
"Is he okay?!" You hear Mia's question through the door.
"He's okay," You hear Hotch reassuring her.
"Then where is he?! He said he'd be here as soon as he could!" Mia's panic causes your eyebrows to furrow, "Oh god, he's dead, isn't he?"
You push the door open, trying to look as put together as possible for Mia, not wanting her to panic. "I'm very much alive, thank you very much," You say.
"I thought he killed you!" She exclaims, rushing towards you. You groan when Mia flings her arms around you, burying her head in your chest and she immediately steps back, seeing the blood her eyes widen. "Holy shit he shot you?!"
"Hey, language," 
"Sorry Texas," She grins, and you roll your eyes. 
"Texas?" Morgan grins, "Oh, that is so sticking around,"
You groan slightly, "Seriously?"
"Seriously." 
You turn to Mia, "Thanks kid," You say sarcastically.
"No problem, old man." Your jaw drops once more.
"I don't know if my ego can take all these insults," 
"I don't know what y'all are talkin' about I would never do such a thing to y'all," She says, trying her best to do an impersonation, giggling slightly at the look of disbelief on your face. 
"That- Now that was just a bridge too far-" You barely get the sentence out before you're huffing a laugh (and then wincing because of said laugh).
"Alright, come on, Texas," Derek smirks, placing a hand on your shoulder, "Let's go get you checked out."
You weren’t too injured (thankfully), minus the bullet wound, it was mostly just bruises. Eventually, you were all stitched up and laid in a hospital bed - which you hated, but Hotch had glared at you when you went to protest. 
A soft knock echoed through the door before it opened, a blonde woman poking her head round. You frowned slightly, not recognising her.
"Hi, I'm Mia's aunt," The woman says and you straighten up (ignoring the discomfort).
"Ma'am," You said with a nod.
"I just wanted to say thank you," 
"What for?" You furrowed your eyebrows as she raised hers, motioning to your current state. "Ma'am I was just doing my job."
"Well, either way, thank you." 
You give a small smile, "No worries, Ma'am."
“I’m going to be her guardian now that-” Mia’s aunt paused, taking a deep breath to compose herself before she continued, “After everything and I really appreciate what you did for her.”
You give her a small smile, “Of course, Ma’am.”
She gives you one last smile as she leaves the room, “Oh, agent?” You look at her, “Is it alright if I bring Mia in? We’re about to head off and she wanted to say goodbye.”
You nod, “Yeah, yeah, of course,” 
When the door closes, you push yourself the best you can, the door opens a few minutes later and Mia walks in.
“How y’all healin’?”
“First, I wouldn’t say y’all if it’s just one person,” You said, rolling your eyes, “Second, I’m doin’ a’right,”
“You missed like seven letters in that sentence,” She laughs, you huff a small laugh, forcing a wince down.
“It’s an art form,” You reply. "Your aunt seems nice,"
“She is, I’m going to live with her,” Mia says, smiling, “She lives in California. I can’t wait, apparently my uncle’s been getting a room ready for me,”
“That’s great,” You smiled. "How are you feeling in yourself?" 
"I'm okay," Mia said with a shrug, "I know it's going to be a while until I'm back to one hundred percent, but I'm willing to put in the work."
"Smart kid," You said, "You'll be okay." 
"Oh, Aunty Meg you should have been there earlier! Texas was all like 'how are y'all doin'?' And he made lassos but he was absolutely useless with one and the last time he used one was when I was two and…"
Mia's voice faded as you looked at the hat on the table for a moment, lightly taking it in your own hands, brushing over the material lightly with the pad of your thumb. It was one of your favourite hats. You looked up, seeing the grin on Mia's face as she did her best cowboy impressions, you smiled. "Hey, I think you'll find, every southerner - impersonator or not - needs their very own hat," You said, reaching over to place it on her head. "Perfect, a true southerner!"
"Well I'll be damned!" Mia exclaimed, tilting the hat slightly. 
"Come on, we need to make a move," Mia's aunt said. "I think Uncle Jack's getting restless waiting for us,"
Mia nodded, reaching up and taking the hat off before handing it over to you. You shook your head. 
"Nah, you keep it kiddo, I've got hundreds." You give her a smile. 
Mia walked forward, clinging onto you as she buried her head in your chest, you ignored the dull ache that flared up in your chest as you hugged her back, "I'm gonna miss you."
"I'll miss you too, kiddo," You say, lifting one hand to wipe at your eyes. 
"Are you crying?" Mia asked softly. 
"No." You answered, "I've got allergies."
You wait for Mia to let go before you do, you gave her a small smile, "See you later, a'right?" She nodded, quickly wiping her eyes. 
"See you later Texas," 
The door shut quietly behind the two of them and you were enveloped once more in silence.
Whilst everyone was wrapping up the case, you were sitting in a hospital bed, bored out of your skull. With a sigh, you pushed yourself up, sneaking past the nurses and doctors as you made your way outside, wanting some fresh air. 
You sat yourself down opposite the hospital in the grass, letting yourself pluck a blade of grass from the ground, running it through your fingers as you lost yourself in your thoughts. 
You kept your eyes trained on the grass as Hotch sat down next to you. The pair of you sitting in silence for a moment. “Are you alright?”
“‘M fine, sir,” The answer rolls off your tongue. “Nothing to worry about,”
“If you want to get something off your chest, you can always talk to me,” 
“I know, Hotch,” You said, “I just… struggle with the whole talkin’ about how you’re feelin’,”
Hotch nods in understanding, for someone who doesn’t talk about it, you sure do end up giving a lot away. You both sit in silence.
"I know people think I'm stupid," You mumble, staring intently at the blade of grass between your fingers as you spoke, "I know I have that Southern drawl," You exaggerate your accent slightly before continuing, "That I don't exactly talk like y'all. I know some just see me as some redneck, but I can hold my own. I ain't stupid. And I certainly ain't no bigot."
"I know, we all know that." Hotch replies.
"But you didn't." You pointed out before sighing, "Whatever, it doesn't matter..."
"We were concerned because there was no way could have known."
"You could've just trusted me," You said, “I have, in no way, given any of y’all a reason to believe that I am against anyone in that community. And I get it, I do, it just… stings, is all.”
Hotch doesn’t speak, unsure of what to actually say. Because he did jump to conclusions, they all did.
"I think if she didn't have any family I would have adopted her, or at least tried to, anway," Your eyebrows are furrowed, gaze deepening at the blade of grass as you tore it apart in your hands. "But, hey, she's happy, that's the main thing and her aunt seems like a lovely woman."
With that, you push yourself off of the grass, ignoring the ache that shoots through your body. Leaving Hotch sat on the curb with a frown as you limped back into the hospital for one final check-up before your flight.
You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, “Fuckin’ allergies.”
1K notes · View notes
a66-1 · 12 days
Text
starving.
Simon x Fem!Insecure!Reader.
Part 1 | ???
TW: Talk of ed's, negative self talk, low self esteem, bad mouthing (from reader to herself, comes with the territory) cursing, self harm. i tried not to be too descriptive with the reader, so EVERY insecure girlie who reads this feels seen. (these tw are for the whole thing, im pretty sure this is gonna be a series)
a/n: hey. if you need help, dm me. ill talk to you if you need it :). (also i made my banners. if you want one dm me! i make them for free, just with credit :)) NOT PROOF READ
i hope your doing okay honey.
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Stepping out of the shower, the towel around you just big enough to touch ends is slipped around yourself. Showering is getting harder. You can barely stand glancing at the mirror now.
You dry yourself off, and hand the towel back up. You can do it, just walk past the mirror to grab your clothes.
You take the steps past the mirror, and turn your back to the mirror to change. Slipping your bra on, and it squishes the skin on your back and you grimace.
Once your dressed, you turn back around. The nagging voices are just waiting to pounce. I mean, what? You used to be so skinny.
You used to be pretty.
You decided to let your hair air dry, and you walk into your bedroom. You had work today, but you really wish you didn't. It was a bad week, you'd skipped 3 meals in the last few days and you know what your therapist would say.
'The progress you've made, hun. You can't go back now.'
The bad days are getting too close to each other now. You used to have at least a week between them, but now it's barely 48 hours. Maybe being off medicine isn't working good anymore.
Maybe you're no good.
You throw in a big hoodie, one that covers you, and some sweat pants, glancing at the big mirror in your room.
You can't stop analyzing yourself.
There's not one good thing on you is it?
Fuck.
The rest of the day was spent at your stupid 9-5, with your stupid boss, in your stupid, lonely life. Christ, being off anti-depressants is really hitting you hard. Everyone at your job is stupid and today every customer who wants to blow you ear off about how you kids these days, by the end of the day, your so tense that your shoulders are aching.
You got about 30 minutes left at this off-brand kroger store, when a big, big ass man walks in, shoving a mask with a skull print on it on. You curse to yourself, you really don't want to have to call the police for a robbery, you just want to go home.
To be honest, if he had a gun, you'd be half tempted to let him shoot you-
"Ma'am?" A heavy British accent came from your right. You turn your head, and scan his few items. You don't bother with the how are you's and you sigh.
"It'll be 16.84." You drag your eyes to his, and he reaches to his pocket, pulling out..
A wallet. What else were you thinking?
He hands you a twenty, and you hand him his respective change. He bags his own items, because honestly, you seem like the only worker in the store. Your face is written with exhaustion, whether it be from this job or something else, and the guy notices.
"Have uh... A good day." He nods to you, and walks off.
You purse your lips, and sigh, closing your cashier, because fuck finishing today. You're too close to a breakdown, and you're not trying to let anyone see.
You drive home, your hands tight around the wheel. You know it's a bad idea to be driving this emotional, to the point you wonder what would happen if you swerve your car into a tree.
You won't do it though.
You need to get back out there. It's why you stopped taking your meds.
You promise yourself that tomorrow you'll go out, and at least get a one night stand, you want need, anything.
Once home and in bed, you scroll and scroll and scroll. Doom scrolling is too common on these longer nights. You have a pillow tucked into your arm, and your hand squeezes it every time that pang in your lower chest rings out. Loneliness, you think.
You always scroll through your old friends instagrams or snapchats, seeing their nice bodies and nice boyfriends. You've been so nice and kind and karma should be on your side, but it always failed.
Especially after your last boyfriend.
Your friends say to wait.
To wait.
To wait.
But waiting is getting harder. Days are getting longer, and your head seems to spin more when left to its own devices. Why do you have to wait?
Your looks.
Your personality.
Who'd wanna be seen with you?
You flip your phone over, and shove your face in the pillow, your breathing staggered.
You fell asleep late, that night. The tears brought you to exhaustion.
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woah why did this take 2 tries to write.
be waiting for pt.2
TRUST FINALS ARE SOOM COMING TO AN END and summer i will be STEWING TRUST!!!
Taglist!
@i-am-hungry-24-7
thank you for all the support. drunk simon blew up and im crying bc i came back after a 2 year hiatus and i wasn't getting the same feedback as usual so to finally seeing people enjoy my work again makes me feel great. <3
sorry simon wasn't in this part much. you gotta know the reader first tho, right?
bye babes..
-a661
238 notes · View notes
ajortga · 2 months
Text
the alcohol effect
pairing: vada cavell x fem reader
summary: vada was expecting to get wasted at the party and have you whine, not the other way around and run after you while you get drunk for the first time in your relationship.
word count: 1.8k+
a/n: sorry for not posting! just wanted to say that i'll be taking requests now! there were some where i just had no motivation because there were no ideas of how the plot would go so i decided to just not write until i had an idea for that! enjoy<3
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Wind blew in your air as you peeked your head out of the window as Vada drove 5 miles over the speed limit, your screams of the lyrics being heard to the people that the car swished against.
Vada looks at you, wiggling her eyebrows when she makes it to your stop, shifting out of her seat and opening your car door.
"C'mon, don't want to let them have fun without us right?" She says, a silly smile played on her face as you rolled your eyes and took her hand.
Music made the house shake and the concrete vibrate against your shoes. You were at least ten yards away, you looked up at Vada and she gave you a reassuring ruffle in the hair.
"Just stay with me and we'll be okay, okay?"
A smile creeps on your face as you nod slowly, Vada opening the door for the two of you, "Okay baby."
-
The first hour of the party you and Vada's friend hosted was going well. You stayed by Vada's side the whole time and cuddled into her lap while making conversation with Mia and Nick, laughing the night away. The second hour you drank a little alcohol, a smirk playing on your lips after you lost a game.
Vada felt a slight shift in your demeanor not long after as you pulled her aside and made out in the corner of the couch for long moments, your hungry lips devouring hers as your legs wrapped around her waist.
She could get used to this as her hand creeped against your bare back, caressing your naked skin.
The brunette regretted pulling away from your lips and hushed you, telling you she had to go to the bathroom and talk to Mia for a moment.
15 minutes passed and your hair was ruffled, eyes dilated and red hot cheeks. You sipped your alcohol, talking with Nick in a slurred voice.
"..this is bUBbbly!" you say, your voice going high and low as you sip it and make a small tiny burp. "Eww... That was gross." You said, looking at Nick with an accusing glare.
Nick slaps your shoulder, "You burped! What the hell are you looking at me for?"
"Nuh uh. That was you, I can smell your ragged breath from here."
"Y/N I swear to-"
The world was spinning as you babble and interrupt him.
5 minutes you were arguing with Nick about knowing that it was he who was the one who took your favorite stuffed animal in second grade. Then the next 5 minutes you crossed your arms and rotted in the corner, sniffling and making cries about how you missed your girlfriend.
"Y/N it's fine. Vada will be back soon."
"But I want her now."
"I'll text her in ten minutes-"
"No! NOW!" You whine, kicking your feet impatiently as you glare at him, sniffling. You didn't understand. Did Vada not want to see you? The alcohol was making your brain go haywire.
"Does she not love me?.." You say, looking like you made a conclusion as tears glistened in the pupils of your eyes.
"Oh lord." He says, pulling out his phone.
nick: send immediate help
nick: mayday mayday
vada: wut happened
vada: huhh
vada: nick
nick: your GIRLFRIEND happened dumbass. your clingy girlfriend won't stop her stupid whining and complaining.
nick: come rn shes
nick: SHES TRYING TO TAKE AWAY MY PHONE THIS IS AN EMERAGYCNAY
nick: POLICE POLICE SHES TAKING MY PHONE MAYDAY
vada: LMAOO im coming wya and don't call her a dumbass you stupid baotch
vada: nick?
vada: bruh
nick: vady bear! hi babye! i miss you! the world is spinning aORUnd!
vada: Y/N?
nick: vada!! i lobe you i lve you i lovae you i love you! can you come back baby i miss you im so lonely and nick made me think you hated me.
vada: hi baby, of course i dont i love you more than anything i'm coming right now
nick: acn we make uout when you come?
vada: are you really that drunk?
nick: ????
vada: yes we can kiss whatever and however much you want
nick: Yes yay:D
vada: where are you?
vada: baby???
nick: your girlfriend just snatched my damn phone from me pls help couches in the living room she desperately needs you om
-
Vada was only gone for seventeen minutes and fifty four seconds to see you on the couch, slurring to Nick inaudible words with a flushed face as he tried to calm you down.
"Oh my god," she mumbles to herself as she makes your way towards you. She's never seen you drunk.
You flop onto the couch, sipping on more alcohol as she approached closer, taking it out of your hand as you didn't process she was there.
"Hey! That's my dri- oh MY god! HI baby!" You squeal, your teary eyes immediately lighting up as you make grabby arms.
Vada giggles, liking the way that your eyes light up only for her as she bends down and hugs you, kissing the nape of your temple. Your lips part in a smiley grin as you curl up into her chest.
"Baaaa baaa baaahhhh.. Yahh yahh yahh." You mumble against her, your non-stop giggling never faltering.
"Love, I'd love to keep having our cuddle session, but how much did you drink."
"THERES A PIG!" You scream, not taking in Vada's question as she gets a little startled by your sudden scream.
"There's no pig," she says, stroking your hair as you kick your feet.
You point at Nick, "Yes there is! Right there!" You keep shaking your hands in accusation as Nick stares at you, his lips wide open and looking offended.
Vada laughs hard as she covers your eyes, "I think you drank enough for tonight, don't want you to insult anyone or me."
"Mmm.. No baby.. You got it all wrong. I think you're soooooo.. soo pretty. Hi baby! Hi hi hi hi hi hi HI!" You giggle, hugging her, "I just want to hug you like my stuffy every single day!"
Your girlfriend blushes, finding how you were so sweet when you were drunk.
"I love youu," she says softly, kissing the top of your head.
"No, I love YOU more!" you demand, scrunching your nose as you make a movement with your hands to annunciate just how much you love her. "You smell good. I love you! I just love you! I love you I love you I love you-wait no. Can we kiss and cuddle and hug and and.. and. OH! And get married too?"
Vada can't help but laugh and nod, "Yes we can kiss and cuddle and hug and get married." As she spoken, she realized you weren't listening as you still rambled.
"Yes yes, yay yes! And then we can have a puppy. Then a bunny. I want the floppy ear bunny. Not the fat ones. And then we can have babies! Baby kitties. You are so pretty! Do you know that? Kiss me!" You say, your voice desperate and all adorable as Vada smiles against your lips and kisses you softly, making your body melt against hers.
She feels your nose bury against the nestle of her neck as she cuddles you closely, "You doing okay? You must've drunk a lot tonight. You're a warrior."
Vada was really expecting you to be the one taking care of her when she was drunk but here you were, kissing her everywhere.
She could hear your lips kiss her nose, cheek, forehead, neck, nipping softly at her shoulder as you kiss her lips over and over again.
"You are the prettiest girl I've ever seen!!!" You squeal, kissing her over and over again.
"You are so beautiful baby. You know that."
You aren't listening, letting her ruffle your hair as you cup her cheeks and kiss her continuously. Vada talked to her friends and looking at them to show her attention as you were looking at her, staring.
Admiration showed in your features, your eyes sparkling and lips slightly parted as you tilt your head and look at her pretty freckles and eyes.
"You're beautiful. I love you." You slur quietly, quiet enough for her not to hear as she continued to talk and smile at you.
-
After a few hours, she was exhausted, in a good way. She was chasing you because you were screaming and running after someone with a burrito and were hungry. Then dancing and running out of energy so she had to carry you like a baby as you slept, you were finally home.
You were curled up in the passenger seat, asleep as Vada quietly opened the door and picked you up, seeing the way you made gentle snores as your head subconsciously laid against her chest. You made a soft murmur as you curled to cuddle more to her.
She opened her door and changed you into your sweatpants and her favorite oversized sweater, then placed you on the bed with care.
She put the blanket over you and wanted to get some water for you. But just as she was getting up, you made a soft whisper.
"Baby.. Stay. Don't leave me."
She saw the way you looked at her with such innocence, your eyes looking like they would tear up if she said no.
"But don't you want water sweetheart?" She says, coming back and stroking your hair back.
"I want your cuddles more."
"You're still thirsty, baby. What about you count to 15 and I'll be back. Okay?"
You made a sad frown, then hesitantly nodded as you sniffled.
"15 seconds my ass." You said, you wanted your girlfriend. You wanted cuddles. You squeezed your eyes shut. You just wanted her warmth.. Her-
"I'm here, see that wasn't so bad hm?" The brunette whispers to the crest of your ear, placing down a water bottle and lifting the blanket before crawling into bed with you.
"Hush, I'm here. Go to bed baby. Rest," she whispers, her voice soft like a gentle lullaby, shushing you to sleep as she enveloped you with warmth.
You looked into her eyes, mesmerized, like she was a masterpiece as she took her fingers, and shut them.
Her gentle, soft whispers and eternal warmth made your eyes flutter closed. Her beautiful figure becoming unfocused. Her arms wrapped around you in a protective embrace, kissing your forehead over and over as you begun to fall asleep.
"Baby?.." You whispered, barely audible, about to fall asleep.
"Yes my pretty star?"
"I really love you." You say, honestly.
"I know you do. And I hope you know I love you much more."
You couldn't argue with that, because as she looked down, there you were, head nestled into her chest, asleep in her arms.
Cute, she thought, smiling as she kissed you and hummed softly, falling asleep not long after.
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tanadrin · 4 months
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Imagine one day a new social trend starts spreading. It’s something unbelievably dumb. Not harmful per de, but truly silly to believe. Let’s say, I dunno, healing crystals start going mainstream. Everybody’s talking about their crystals. It becomes impolite to criticize people who believe in healing crystals. They become a big part of people’s personalities, and people on TV start talking about them, and one day years down the line politicians are debating funding for crystal-based medicine. And through it all you are sitting there going, what the fuck is happening. I thought we were all on the same page on this. You want to get along and be friendly and open minded but you cannot pretend to believe in healing crystals, this is nonsense, and when the topic comes up you refuse to lie about it. This eventually starts to have social consequences—they’re that popular!—but what can you do? You cannot pretend a lump of quartz can cure the flu or whatever. It’s just all so unbearably embarrassing.
I think what the centrist/liberal/center-left reactionary turn driven by culture war stuff feels like. And I think the key emotion is probably cringe. Not hate, not fear, though those emotions may reinforce the turn. I think in a lot of cases people who imagine themselves pretty open minded and flexible have as part of their worldview something they thought was bedrock social consensus—on the level of “healing crystals are silly woo”—so bedrock maybe that it didn’t even need to be a conceptual boundary they actually policed in their minds.
For instance, when she started her anti-trans turn, JK Rowling made a big show of not being really anti trans, just arguing that Some People Had Gone Too Far. She wasn’t a frothing religious reactionary, after all. And I believe that’s probably true! I think Rowling probably did have a mental model of sex and gender with a little bit of give in it—of the “we can humor the odd weirdo” type. But as the discussion of trans rights in the UK got more serious over her lifetime, trans people went from “the odd weirdo” to “a recognized minority,” and eventually this ran against a bedrock belief that on some level men are men and women are women and never the twain shall meet. To act otherwise was just too embarrassing. And she wasn’t going to embarrass herself in the name of political correctness.
Other people whose brains have been eaten by the anti-woke mind virus (as @eightyonekilograms calls it) have something going of the contrarian in them, who enjoys yelling “up yours, woke moralists!” or w/e. Im thinking of ppl like Glenn Greenwald here, or Dave Chapelle, people who seem not to feel alive except when people are mad at them. That’s a separate but interesting dynamic. And there are people like Graham Linehan who become totally unhinged through this process of auto-radicalization, moths drawn ever closer to a particular source of validation within their chosen reactionary subcommunity, until they are truly parodies of themselves. That is also an important dynamic, but it’s one that only takes hold after the initial turn has begun.
I think the role of that feeling of cringe, that refusal to entertain an idea because it is too embarrassing (even if it does actually have a decent body of research behind it, unlike crystals) is important to think about, because I am interested in how to get people over it. I know that feeling has affected my own thinking over my lifetime. I wasn’t raised particularly conservative, but I had to learn not to cringe at a lot of feminist thought before I could appreciate it and learn from it. I explicitly didn’t have that cringe when it came to gay people for whatever reason, so it never entered my mind that it might be a problem. I remember being surprised to learn when I was very young that some boys wanted to marry other boys, but my response was “huh. Go figure.” Because for whatever reason I had not picked up that this was something I was supposed to be grossed out by. A general doctrine of empathy, of trying to understand people on their own terms, can help forestall some of this stuff, but it’s not foolproof in either direction—I don’t want to believe crystals have healing powers if it becomes socially popular to do so, just because it is socially popular to do so! And if they do, I don’t want to not believe they do just because it is socially unpopular!
(Obviously the crystals thing is not a one to one metaphor for the trans thing, so don’t read too much into that. Maybe astrology would have been a better analogy. Also I’m not talking just about people whose reactionary turn is predicated on trans issues—I think this dynamic applies to everything from gay rights to the Tridentine Mass. But trans issues are a handy example bc, as the adage goes, somebody posts once about trans people and they never post anything normal again. I think the classic rapid-onset trans derangement syndrome is closely tied to the fact that gender norms are a really deep element of many people’s social-consensus-based worldview, and so challenged to that worldview are felt as really cringe.)
I’m curious if other people who grew more liberal in their thinking over time had a similar experience of having to overcome what was basically a feeling of embarrassment at certain ideas.
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froggibus · 1 year
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The Death of Peace of Mind - Stu Macher! Ghostface
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Pairing: Stu Macher! Ghostface x f! reader (reader uses female/she/her pronouns + has a pussy), Billy Loomis! Ghostface x f! reader (at the end), Billy Loomis x Stu Macher
Genre: smut/NSFW
Word Count: 2k
Summary: after finding out your boyfriend is the masked killer who’s been plaguing Woodsboro, you only have one request—you want him to take out his darkest urges on you
CW: Dark content ahead!!! dubcon, knife play, blood play, bondage (use of handcuffs and blindfolds), Stu cuts reader, bloodloss, oral (f! receiving), unprotected sex (yk what im gonna say), creampie, Stu chases you with a knife, exhibitionism/voyeurism, mentions of a threesome, overstimulation, multiple orgasms
incredibly self indulgent fic of my favorite Ghostface & the idea of being railed by him <3 this is a bit darker than what I normally write lol, also very tempted to write about getting railed by both Billy & Stu now
update ish? self indulgent part 2 w both Stu and Billy here
————
The minute the phone rings, the blood rushes to your ears. The entire town of Woodsboro had been warned against answering calls from unknown numbers after what happened to Casey and Steve. You weren’t worried, though. 
Why fear the boogeyman when the boogeyman is the only person who makes you feel safe?
Stu always insisted on never letting you see the darker parts of him, on never sharing the weirder things he was interested in. He wanted to protect you from himself and the fucked up things he wanted to do to you. That all changed this morning when you stopped by his house to make sure he was awake in time for school, and saw the Ghostface mask in his closet. 
You had grabbed it and tossed it at him, forcing him to explain himself. 
The boy had stuttered over his words before he finally confessed: he was the one who had been killing people all around Woodsboro. Even more surprising than that was that he had a partner. Everyone, even the police, had only suspected one person was doing it. 
He mumbled countless apologies, begging you not to leave him and begging you not to tell anybody or else ‘he’ would be mad. In all of his grovelling, though, he never mentioned who his partner was. 
You cut him off. “Is this the dark stuff you didn’t want me to know about?”
He nodded slowly, tips of his ears burning red. 
“Stu, I’m not going to tell anyone,” his head snaps up at your words, eyes lighting up. “But I have one condition.”
“Anything.”
You take a deep breath, biting your lip. “I want you to lose control. Do whatever you want to me, just let go. Don’t worry about whether I like it or not…just, show me those parts of you.”
“Y/n…”
“I mean it, Stu. Please?”
He’s reluctant to give in. He knows he would never hurt you, at least not severely, but the thought of showing you who he really is and what he wants to do makes him shiver. He doesn’t want you to stop looking at him like you do now. 
Still, he gives in. He tells you to go home and relax, and maybe stock up on first aid supplies.
The thought of what he’s going to do to you fills you with excitement. 
And now you’re sitting next to the ringing phone, knowing when you answer it that things will never be the same. 
You press the phone to the side of your face, the cold buttons raising goosebumps on your skin. “Hello?”
“Hello, y/n.” The voice on the other end is deep and raspy, so masculine it has you clenching your thighs together. 
“Who is this?”
Stu can’t help but smirk on the other end of the line. You’re playing the part of the innocent, dumb victim perfectly, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on. God, the things he wants to do to you. 
“You tell me your name, I’ll tell you mine,” he responds. 
“I don’t think so.”
You lay down on your back on the couch, playing with your hair, with the collar of your shirt, anything to keep you focused on the man talking in your ear. 
“Come on,” he almost growls, “why don’t you tell me your name?”
You can’t help but giggle at the frustration in his voice. “Why do you want to know?”
“Because I want to know who I’m looking at.”
You suck in a breath. Smooth, you think. If you were anyone else, if you actually thought there was a chance he would kill you, his words would make you freeze. But tonight, all they did was make you shiver in anticipation. 
You can feel your underwear soaking through with your arousal, your whole body warming. “L-looking at?”
Stu almost laughs at the way you nervously stutter. You sound so cute, so innocent…he really can’t wait to ruin you. He stifles his laughter from inside the closet. 
“You heard me,” he says. “Don’t you want to know where I’m hiding?”
“You’re…you’re inside?” 
A wave of fear washes over you. How had he gotten inside without you noticing? Is this how he had gotten to Casey, too? You hate how much it turns you on to think that he’s been here the whole time. 
“Take a guess, come find me.”
Stu watches through the crack in the door as you stand from the couch with that puzzled look on your face. You spin around, the phone still pressed to your ear. 
“What happens if I find you?”
Stu stays silent for a minute, watching you look around the living room to find him. Just as you get to the closet, your palm resting on the handle, he responds. 
“I get to see what your insides look like.”
He pushes the closet door open and shoves you against the wall. You squeak, letting the phone clatter to the ground. Stu grabs your wrists in one of his hands and pins them above your head. 
His other hand reaches for the knife in his waistband, holding up at eye level so you can see it. Your heart speeds up, your arms shake, your knees threaten to buckle. 
He presses the knife at the centre of your collarbone, just above where your t-shirt begins. You can feel the sharp tip press into your skin, just enough to cause a bead of blood to roll down your chest. 
“The things I’m going to do to you,” he breathes. 
You almost call his name, but you know he’s not your boyfriend right now. You know he needs to let go, and part of that is to let go of himself, too. 
He drags the knife down, cutting into the fabric of your t-shirt. He applies just enough pressure to easily slide the fabric, but not enough to actually hurt you. Still, you can feel the cool metal on your bare skin and it causes you to whimper. 
Stu groans. You’re being so good for him, standing so still and just letting him do what he needs to do. He digs the knife into the soft fabric of your shorts, taking his time in slicing them down the middle. 
Both pieces of fabric fall to the floor, leaving you in just your underwear in front of him. “I-I—” you’re not sure what you’re trying to say, but the words won’t come out regardless. 
“I-I-I,” he mocks, holding the blade against your throat. “I’m gonna fucking ruin you.”
You whimper and kick against him, your knee grinding against the bulge in his robe. He drags the knife just above your collarbone. He presses in hard, hard enough to draw blood. 
The warm blood leaks down your chest, dripping down your stomach and your underwear. The slight sting makes you whine even more and rub your thighs together. 
He releases your hands. “Run,” he whispers. 
You don’t waste a second in obeying him. As soon as your feet are on the ground, you’re tearing away from him. You can hear him walking at a leisurely pace behind you, laughing mockingly. Something about him chasing you, cutting you…it’s overwhelming, it makes your head fuzzy with pleasure. 
You run up the stairs, turning away as soon as your feet meet the plush carpet of the landing. You turn around, only to see that he’s gone. You suck in a breath. Where could he have gone?
Arms wrap around your waist, a knife pressed into your side. “Got you.”
You squeal, kicking against him. He’s much stronger than you, though. He pushes you against the wall, using it as leverage to lift you up. 
You wrap your legs around his waist and let him carry you to your bedroom. He tosses you onto the bed, slamming the door behind him. You squirm, your sheets staining with the blood that dripped down your body while you ran. 
You look up at him with those damned eyes, blinking slowly. His robe is stained with your blood, the knife in his hand slick with the red. 
He crawls on top of you, yanking your underwear off and tossing them into the corner of the room. Your pussy is soaked as it is, but your blood has started to run into the juices, and the smell is fucking intoxicating. 
He moves his face between your legs, the white mask looking up at you. You whimper and roll your hips against his face, staining the white with your red. 
He tears off a strip of fabric from his robe and ties it around your eyes. “No looking,” he orders. 
He tilts the mask up just enough so that his mouth and nose are out before licking up the blood from your thighs. You taste just as good as you smell, and it only makes him want more. He flicks his tongue across your opening and you whine, bucking your hips against his face. 
He goes to work licking and sucking at your clit. He’s drunk from the taste of you, and all he wants is more. He presses the knife against your thigh, digging it in hard enough to draw blood. The pain in your thigh mixed with the pleasure in your core has you crying out, forcing you over the edge. 
You finish hard, your slick coating his mouth and nose. He doesn’t stop, though. He keeps eating you out like you’re his last meal. 
“P-please,” you whine. 
“Please what?”
“Stretch me out, ruin me, just…please?”
Your breathless begging is so fucking cute that he can’t hold back anymore. He pulls the mask over his face again, laying on top of you. He pulls out a pair of plain metal handcuffs, and gets to work securing them around your wrists. He does it tightly enough that it digs into the skin and makes it impossible to escape, but not tight enough to be painful. 
You struggle against the restraints, unable to see or feel him now. He shuffles against you awkwardly, pulling his cock out of his pants. He’s already rock hard, the tip coated in precum. 
He lines up the head at your entrance and shoves his way inside. He’s so perfectly sized, always stretching you out perfectly. You whine, instinctively going to reach out for him before remembering the restraints on your wrists. 
His thrusts are desperate and needy. All he wants, all he needs, is to bury himself inside of you. To fuck you like he needs to and absolutely ruin you. 
“F-fuck,” you stutter out, forcing your hips against his to meet his thrusts. 
His hands grip your waist tightly, his mouth hovering over your pulse point. He licks up the remaining blood from the cut on your collarbone, and the copper taste on his tongue only drives him to fuck you harder. 
The way you're so wet for him, just from him cutting and fucking you. Hovering above you, fucking you like it's the last time, he's never felt more content. It's like the darkest parts in you pacify the darkest parts in him, and that's all he's ever needed.
You can feel yourself getting close, your muscles contracting with every deep thrust. You feel slightly lightheaded, but you’re not sure if it’s from your last orgasm or the blood loss. 
Stu holds you closer, his body collapsing onto yours as his thrusts get sloppier. You know he won’t last much longer, either. 
You squirm, bucking your hips to try and get him as deep as possible. He hits that sweet spot one more time and you come undone, your muscles spasming around him. Your pussy clenches around his cock and that’s all he needs to spill hot cum deep inside of you. 
Your head rolls back, your body going limp. Stu pulls out, kneeling on top of you. “Think you can go another round?”
“C-can you?” You breathe heavily. 
He reaches his hands around the back of your head to remove the blindfold. It takes a minute for your eyes to focus, fixating on the masked man above you. 
“Not me,” he grabs your jaw in his hand and turns your head to the corner, where a man in an identical costume stands. “Him.”
“Him?”
The masked man steps forwards, slowly pulling the mask from his face. Billy Loomis is smiling at you like the devil, “hello, y/n.”
He pulls the mask back on, coming to rest on the bed next to Stu. Both of the Ghostface killers have their eyes fixated on your bound, writhing form on the bed. 
“I think she can do one more,” Stu says. 
“I think so too. I think she could take both of us.”
“B-both of you?” 
Neither boy acknowledges you, too busy talking as if you’re not laying right in front of them. God, they’re going to be the death of you. 
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ms-demeanor · 3 months
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hello! sorry to bother w this but im sort of desperate at this point. given your post about school abuse: so like. i had a similar experience and i thought that i had sorted my brain out. BUT. big but. now im trans and every time i have to correct people w/ misgender or come out to people that i dont already know their opinion on the issue, i get an anxiety attack that makes me unable to do it. ive told many therapists and no one so far has understood why im terrified of making stuff that other people can perceive as me being difficult to work with. would you have *any* advice? thanks!
Okay so first of all it is totally valid to feel that way; that isn't an irrational response, that is your body and brain going "!!!! I have learned this lesson before!" But just because it's a sensible response doesn't mean it's functional in the long term, which is why it needs to be addressed (which I'm sure you already know, I'm just explaining for people in the back).
So now here is some meandering advice:
Spend time with people you already know you can trust. It's okay to take a break from new people and situations (as much as is possible) when you are processing traumatic events and learning to care for yourself. Spending time with people who you don't have to come out to, who don't misgender you, can help you normalize being out and correctly gendered to yourself.
Recognize that you don't have to be out to everyone and some assholes aren't worth it. This is going to depend some on the context, but you don't owe everybody an explanation for yourself and if people repeatedly misgender you after being corrected you may just be better off not spending time around those people.
Loop in trusted people in low-stakes ways. If you get the sense that someone who you think is pretty safe has misgendered you on accident, it might still feel too intimidating to correct them in person but it might be a good idea to follow up with text or a call or a message to say "hey, just FYI, I think I heard you use a/b pronouns for me earlier, I just wanted to let you know that I use c/d pronouns. Did you want to meet up again next week?" the breakdown on why I think this is effective is - Distance means you're safe - nonthreatening "FYI" means you aren't saying "I'm offended" and assumes good faith from the other person - feels less accusatory (not that you need to tone police yourself, but if you're trying to lower the stress level overall then assuming it was a mistake and letting them know you don't think it was on purpose should reduce the overall tension) - request to meet up again or topic switch to something lighter once again says "I'm not mad, that was just regular information, we can now return to our scheduled programming"
I think that, generally speaking, this is also a decent way to come out to people if you're nervous; physically remote and emotionally casual can be a good place to work from (even if you're actually panicking in your head but you can pull off casual in a written message)
Find (or create) a space where people are 100% going to support you. If you need to create a discord server, if you need to schedule a regular coffee date with trusted friends or family members, whatever it is, give yourself a space where you are unconditionally supported and can have people to bounce ideas and concerns off of. Even if it's just you and one other person, it's good to know you have *someone* who you can say "I think I want to tell this other person to use my pronouns but it's scary" to and know that you're not at risk in any way. I'd say try to make sure that you're still interacting with people outside of that space, but have a space to retreat to where you can just drop the worry.
Recognize that somebody else's problem is not a reflection of you. If you have, for instance, a coworker who is being a piece of shit and refusing to recognize your gender, that is not a reflection of your gender that is a reflection of them being a piece of shit. If there is a classmate or a sibling who uses the wrong pronouns after being corrected that doesn't mean you're not entitled to your pronouns that means they are being a piece of shit. Some people are just not going to accept you and that's on them. Try to minimize your time spent with them and if you have to spend time with them at work take steps to ensure your safety, but don't fight losing battles with assholes.
It really is legitimately scary. You have good reasons to be scared and you are doing a very frightening thing (and not to do the meme thing but you are legitimately being so brave about it; the fact that you are reaching out and asking anyone for help, including randos on the internet, means that you are taking steps to doing the scary thing and that is SO GOOD and I'm really proud of you for making the effort in spite of the fear).
Here is some less meandering advice:
Practice. Talk to yourself in the mirror, practice with friends, practice with your therapist. Practice coming out to yourself in a casual way. Practice correcting your pronouns. Practice an introduction for yourself that explains the information you want to give to new people you might meet. Get it down to a quick little patter, get it to be something that's easy to say to yourself in the mirror first, then try it with friends for practice, then try it around the safer people you might want to give the information to. It'll get easier as you go.
Look for a local support group (or an online support group). If there's a local LGBTQ+ center you should see if they've got events going on or a support group you can join or workshops or any manner of social thing where you can go interact with people who have been through similar stuff.
Journal. Each time you find yourself frightened of talking to someone about your gender, do what you need to to get through the day and then sit down and think about that interaction. Write down what happened, write down what you were thinking. Was there something in particular that made you anxious? Is it something you can practice addressing? Was there something you noticed about the person that made you uncomfortable? Is that a common thread in the times you have trouble talking about this? If you're able to narrow down specifically what is making it hard to speak to some people that might make it easier to explain to therapists but will also make it more actionable for you.
Here's some very optimistic advice:
If at all possible find a friend who will be rabid and unflinching in their support for you and hang out with them around new people. Get yourself an attack dog copilot who will cheerfully step up and make corrections for you. I know not everyone can do this and I know that if you can find someone like this they can't be around all the time, but it can be wonderfully reassuring to find that one person who you know is going to be ride or die about making sure that everyone in the room respects you. (Being that person for someone else can also teach you how to be that person for you)
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rvmanticlvr · 3 months
Note
HI AGAIN POOKIE
omg i loved the simon face sitting blurb i was melting in my seat🤭🤭🤭
anywho, Ive been watching police cam vids recently and I saw the hottest, sexiest, sheet gripping looking man omg?!??
hear me out… policeman simon. JS THINK ABOUT IT.
him hooking his hands on his gear, EVEN BETTER IF HE WAS A K-9 HANDLER. omg I love a man with a dog.
Á BIENTÔT!,
L.L.
HI POOKSSSS!!!!
yayayay im so happy you loved it 🤭 UM HONEY DARLING WHAT. ARE. THEY. FEEDING. YOU. WITH. !?!? THATS SUCH A YUMMY IDEAAAAA (firefighters soldiers and policemen are so 🥴)
policeman!simon who will pull you over because you were speeding over the limit
policeman!simon who never lets anyone go without paying the speeding ticket but the moment you look up to him with doe eyes hes done
policeman!simon who takes you to the police station because he has to "interrogate" you
policeman!simon who lets you go because hes an officer who knows that youre a good girl (but you still have to pay your prize and no silly, you dont need your money just your mouth 🤭)
ORRRR A K-9 HANDLER!SIMON
k-9handler!simon who saw you taking a run around the forest while he was training his dog
k-9handler!simon who walked over to you when you finished running (dw babe hes been watching u for the whole time now 😘)
k-9handler!simon who told you hes going to walk you home since its dark and dangerous and hes a policeman honey, you cant say no
k-9handler!simon who gives you his number to call when you go running because he does aswell and he can always protect you
k-9handler!simon who plays all of that as protecting the citizens
okay pooks i literally dont know what to write but thats such a scrumptilisous idea i just dont have any scenarious 😭 so i hope this is okay, ilysm mwah <3
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manicpixiefelix · 4 months
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a long way down to the bottom of the river
{ One-Shot AU for head, heart, hand. }
Summary: In which Felix can't be talked around to forgiving Oliver, and you become one of Elspeth's last remnants of her children. (Or; in an alternate universe, canon happens and the reader is there to suffer through it with the rest of the Catton family.)
Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.
Warnings: SALTBURN-CANON ENDING; death, grief, murder, implied/referenced suicide, funerals, drinking, implied overdose, Oliver Quick being a bastard behind the scenes. You die at the end (heavily implied, not graphic). Angst without a happy ending.
A/N: 3604 words. had to write this to get it out of my head, im so emotional about the catton family i love them all very much. THIS IS NOT CANON TO head, heart, hand.
TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)
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Its Elspeth who finds him, who screams bloody murder in the mid-morning sun. The others are quick to join them, Venetia and Farleigh still sopping from searching the lake. Venetia collapses and Farleigh alongside her, and Sir James is quick to attend his son, denial on his strained voice. Oliver is next, slow moving as if in a haze, and finally, footsteps and shouts -
"What is it, is he -?" Your voice rings out, but Elspeth cuts you off sharply.
"Stop right there, pet." Voice surprisingly authoritative, you're still amongst the high walls of the maze, but can see the clearing open up ahead. However, you still obligingly stop.
"What's wrong, Elspeth, what's happened to-?"
But Elspeth is approaching you, the faintest glimmer of tears in her eyes. Something is terribly wrong, you note, as she wraps you up in the tightest hug you can remember.
"I don't," her voice trembles, barely audible, "want you to see this."
"No," you whisper as it begins to hit you.
"Darling-"
"No," you struggle, already feeling panic and dread well up inside of you. Elspeth tries to hold you tighter, quietly sobbing as she tries to keep you in her embrace, but you break free, running for the centre of the maze.
"Let me see my Felix!"
There are no words in the English language that will ever come close to describing the noise of absolute, distraught anguish that claws its way from your throat at the sight of Felix on the grass, unmoving.
Venetia sobs louder.
The minute you start to crumble, to fall, Oliver is by your side, holding you tight, holding you close. He's wearing Felix's robe, but it's a comfort in this moment. The sobs that escape you make your whole body ache, but you just don't understand how this could happen, how it all went so fucking wrong, how he looks so peaceful in the morning light.
Elspeth calls everyone away for lunch, voice forcibly level, but immediately you disagree.
"Don't make me leave him," you hear yourself say in a rush. For a long moment, Elspeth frowns at you, not angry, just concerned.
"Let his pet stay with him," Sir James says with a strained kind of fondness, "I think letting him have company is a good idea."
After a moment, Elspeth approaches you, takes you out of Oliver's arms, holds your face steady, and you try to repress your tears for the moment.
"Come right back when, well," she falters, just for a moment, "I'll have Duncan call the police -"
"I'll be good, I'll be good," bubbles from your lips as tears continue to trail down your cheeks. Softly, weakly, Elspeth smiles.
"I know you will be, pet, then you come right back inside for lunch with us, okay?"
"Yes," and you, desperate for this connection in this moment, call her something usually only ever used by Felix and Venetia, "mum." Elspeth's gaze softens, eyes suddenly glossy with new tears, and she quickly kisses your forehead.
"Good pet," and she lets you go, leading the way from the maze, and leaving you to finally, tragically approach the body of your best friend.
Like a distraught lover, a dog desperately waiting for a master who will never wake up, you take your place by Felix's side. He is perfect, looking like an angel, looking like he was sleeping; Sir James' reaction still breaks your heart when you think about it, if only because it makes too much sense for a parent in denial.
Everything is a blur, all pain and love and a childish desperation for this all to be a bad dream. When you talk to him, amid sniffles and hiccupping sobs, you don't even register what you're saying; for the first time in your life, Felix is cold to the touch. He's always run warm, this isn't right, this can't be real - when reality hits you again, it hits you hard, laying, curled up by his side, head on his chest. There's no steady rise and fall of his breathing, no warmth, no heartbeat that you know better than your own. Felix, perfect, angelic Felix, is not sleeping.
When the paramedics and police find you, gardener in tow to help them through the maze, you've lost your words. All you can do is sob, wracked with grief, by his side.
It's the gardener who manages to pull you away, a kindly, greying gentleman who's been working for the family for many years. He speaks softly and kindly when he tells you that Elspeth is waiting for you, that lunch is served.
Unlike the others, you've had no time to change, no time to clean yourself up. You are a mess, looking the way every single one of them feels.
There's a chair pulled up right next to Elspeth, way out of formation from the others, an plate of food sat there too. Somehow you know it's for you. When you sit, she gives you a tight, sad smile, and reaches out.
"Eat up, pet," she insists, giving your hand a squeeze when you take hers, "we've all got to keep up our strength." The mince and pie on the plate in front of you is cold. All you can do is cast a helpless gaze around the table to the others. Farleigh sits across from you, unable to look up, unable to touch his food, unable to move. Venetia is at the other end of the table, hand shaking on the wine bottle as she appears to contemplate pouring herself another glass; she looks distraught, looks a mess, god you wish you could go hug her. Oliver is observing you all, as he always does, desperately trying to cling to a sense of normalcy despite the way the air all around you seems to be rotting as you sat there.
And there's a gaping hole in the family, at the table, Felix's chair empty, and your regular one beside it. It means something. Means everything. Beneath the table, Elspeth has lowered your joined hands but hasn't let go. You can feel her trembling. With one hand she tries to eat her lunch with a fork, but Duncan interrupts with a request to close the curtains, to shield the family from witnessing Felix's body being taken away.
Still, everything goes to hell as those curtain bathe the room in red light. Despair is the sound of Farleigh sobbing and screaming and Venetia drinking wine until she's all but drowning in it, and Sir James casting Farleigh out after Oliver rats him out for the cocaine at last night's party. It's all set to the squeak of the gurney just outside, heavy with the weight of your best friend's body. Elspeth tries to act like she can't hear it, but her hand in yours is painfully tight, and she can't keep her food down in that moment.
The curtains open, the world is light again, and you still haven't touched your food.
"May I be excused?" You voice is weak as you turn to a still riled up Sir James. There's a tick in his jaw.
"No."
"Please, he's family."
"He's not coming back here, not now, not ever," there was no room for argument in his voice, but you persisted.
"Please let me say goodbye."
Sir James seems to soften, just for a moment, and he casts his gaze to his wife beside you. When you look to Elspeth, she does hesitate, her grip on your hand still tight, but she finally lets go with a dejected nod.
Immediately you're scrambling away, standing so fast from the table that your chair clatters to the ground in your haste, bolting from the room to find Farleigh.
In the foyer, waiting, Duncan standing guard over him a few feet away, Farleigh is sobbing into his hands. When you pull him into a hug, he crumples against you. There are no words in this moment, just a harmony of anguish and despair, the two of you on the pristine marble floor, holding each other for dear life.
There is no coming back from this. Your world has been irrevocably changed, has gotten a little smaller.
That night you curl up in Felix's bed, like you always do. Your world will never be the same.
"Can I come in?" Venetia sounds like she's been crying, and all you can do is nod. Curling up next to you, Venetia is the little spoon, whole body shaking with silent sobs as you hold her tightly. You join her, until your cries become audible, clinging together in your misery.
"Oh, my darlings," from the doorway you hear Elspeth, and immediately Venetia's crying becomes louder, gesturing like a child for her mother to join your all. Shuffling over, you let Elspeth settle herself in the middle, under the duvet, tears in her eyes as you both curl into the only show of genuine connection she's offered all day. Venetia begs her mother to make it stop, to tell her it isn't real, and all Elspeth can do is apologise.
"He's gone, mummy he's gone, how the fuck could this happen to us?!"
Elspeth has no answer.
All three of you sleep uneasily.
During the days that follow, lead up to Felix's funeral, Elspeth requests your company more and more, whilst Sir James seems to have decided that your input, as Felix's closest friend, was necessary for the funeral arrangements. It's taxing to accommodate them all and not break down. Thankfully, during the nights, Venetia doesn't seem to mind if you cry. The two of you take to sharing Felix's bed, like children having a sleep over, holding each other close for comfort, trying to talk when the pain of his absence isn't unbearable.
In between it all you try and make time for Oliver. He watches the way you're stretching yourself thin, always asks how you are, if you need a break or time to yourself. Time to yourself is the last thing you need, you tell him, and he can see the sadness in your smile.
On the day of the funeral, it is you and Sir James who give speeches. When the idea was suggested, you immediately tried to refute it, insisting that Elspeth or Venetia should be the ones to go up, but Venetia gives a sad smile and points out that you knew him better than she did. Elspeth knows she could never make it through even a sentence.
Still, Venetia comes up with you for support, her arm tucked in yours as you read through the carefully prepared documents. Farleigh's in the crowd with red-rimmed eyes; at least Sir James had the good grace to invite him, even if he wasn't allowed to attend the actual burial or wake.
Halfway through your speech, the paper gets blurry and tears cloud your vision and your voice gets stuck in your throat for a moment.
"It's okay," Venetia whispers, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, though she's crying too, "it's okay."
"Felix Catton," you decided to fold up your carefully prepared script, looking out at all attending, all who'd loved him, "was an irreplaceable bright light. Everything about him made the world want to bask in his warmth; I know everyone here knows what I'm talking about," taking a deep breath, looking around to see more than a few nodding heads in the crowd, "Fi was love, and joy, and spontaneity, and he refused to compromise himself for others," and you looked down, squeezing your eyes shut tightly as the ache in your chest began to overwhelm you, "he was unapologetically himself," another shaky breath in before admitting, "he was my whole world," trying to get past the lump in your throat, "and I'm going to miss him for the rest of my life."
It's Venetia who throws Felix's rock into the river, and your turn to support her, holding her tightly as she flinches away from the sound of the rock hitting the water. She cries in your arms until you all make your way back to Saltburn.
"Felix's darling," is what Elspeth has taken to calling you in the past few days. It's clunky to hear, and would be a mouthful to say, but you're not going to protest.
"Yes, mum?" It's what you've taken to calling Elspeth; she hasn't protested that either.
"Of course you're free to say no, but I-" desperately trying to keep up a brave face, it falters slightly when her voice catches, "I'd be very grateful for your company in one of our spare bedrooms. Nothing untoward -" she's quick to clarify, "like a sleepover, when you children were small. I'll get Duncan to bring some kind of snacks, perhaps a charcuterie board? And wine?" She gives a hopeful smile. Never in your life had you heard a request quite like this from Elspeth. But these aren't exactly usual circumstances; who were you to deny a grieving mother?
Elspeth tells you stories from Felix and Venetia's childhood from before you knew them, often with a hint of guilt that it was relayed to her by one of the maid, or footmen, or chefs, or gardeners. Still, it's comforting to you both to hear these stories on such a tragic night. The wine is immaculate and the cheese is, of course, award winning, and if Elspeth is crying quietly while she tries to sleep, holding you close like you're a child again, you don't say anything. There's tears in your eyes too.
But you can't get to sleep. When you see the sky turning pale behind the curtains you ease yourself out of her grip, exhausted in every way possible, as you head to the other side of the estate, back to a more familiar bed.
When you finally get back to Felix's room, you're hit by the overwhelming smell of blood. Dread and nausea wells up in your stomach, the scent growing stronger with each step you take towards the bathroom.
Blonde hair and a blood-filled bathtub. Razor blades and Venetia's blood on the tiles. You think you're going to be sick.
"Ven- Ven!" You're screaming at the top of your lungs, it's barely even dawn. You don't care if you wake Oliver in the next room, god there's horror in the idea that he'd slept just feet away without even knowing.
"Venetia!" You climb in the deep tub, bloody water splashing, overflowing as you pull the plug and try and sit her up higher, sit her mouth and nose out of the water. It's too late, logically you know this, but you're panicking - this can't be happening again. Oliver stumbles in, horror on his face, in his eyes, as he takes in the scene, and you beg him to fetch Duncan, to call and ambulance, sobbing through your adrenaline and fear.
You won't let her be seen in this state, you realise, so you pull her from the bath, wrap her up in a spare robe from her brother's closet, and you sit with her. Your back against the wall you sit her in between your legs, back firm against your chest, propped up, even as her head lolls to the side. All you can do is cry, whispering apologies into the damp ends of her hair, begging her forgiveness. Your pyjamas are soaked with her blood from the bathtub, but you can't even begin to care.
Elspeth becomes reluctant to let you go.
"Tell me about your adventures with them," she'd ask softly, sitting neatly and cross-legged in the spare bedroom next to the master bedroom where Sir James still spends his nights. Like her daughter before her, she's started requesting that you braid her hair after she's showered for the night. You always oblige her request.
She becomes anxious, it seems, without you around, as if afraid that you'll do something similar to Venetia. You are not yourself around her, you are a remnant of her children, but for the time being she gives you purpose, so you cave to her requests every time. All your clothes are moved into the spare bedroom, and in the quiet of night, Elspeth sounds so sad when she recounts that she stopped Felix and Venetia from crawling into her bed after a nightmare far earlier in their lives than she wishes she had. She always wakes up before you, and never talks about it during the day, but there's something in it for you too. Every night she kisses your forehead, and something aches in your chest at her quiet, loving words;
"I love you, my darling, I'm so proud of you." And you know you're not the child she so desperately wishes she was talking to. But you realise you needed to hear them anyways.
Oliver is still around, quiet, skulking, not quite sure what to do with himself. A lot of the time he joins yourself and Elspeth in whatever activity she had chosen; reading, art, strolling the grounds.
"Isn't he wonderful," Elspeth would say, fondness in her voice, "of course you and our darling Felix love him so, how beautiful he is." Elspeth held fast to you and Oliver, all she had left of her children, though in time it grew almost to the point of suffocation.
"It's because she's worried you'll do something drastic," Oliver tells you softly, the two of you sitting on Felix's balcony, looking out over the lake. Sir James and Elspeth are attending a gala, and Elspeth had been wringing her hands about not having you by her side for the night, but her husband had reminded her that this was the one gala you really couldn't attend, and ordered Duncan to always have you in line of sight.
"Like Venetia?" You'd asked, wine drunk and indulging in your night of freedom. Oliver is very quiet, but you know he's thinking the same thing. When you look over your shoulder, you see Duncan, stoic as ever, behind the glass doors, giving your conversation privacy but still always watching. You implore him to get another bottle of wine, and promise you won't make any rash or sudden moves. Oliver snorts into his own bottle, but Duncan seems less than impressed. Still, he obliges, and for a few moments you and Oliver are entirely alone.
"Is it like Farleigh?" Oliver finally asks, before shaking his head with a frown, back tracking, "no, forget I said -"
"Is what like Farleigh?" Intrigued and feeling indulgent, you lean your head against him, the two of you on the wicker sofa. For another few beats, Oliver is still quiet.
"Are they paying for you?" He murmurs, "is that why you stay?" You make a noncommittal noise in the back of your throat, shifting a little.
"Is that what you think of me, Ollie?"
"I don't know," he admits, "no-one really talks about why you're here."
"I don't think anyone thought it mattered; I'm here because Felix is my best friend and the others don't mind me being here," you sit up, gesturing broadly out to the grounds with a wide smile and open hand, "I could be anything I want, anywhere I want, and I chose Saltburn." Sitting back down, you settle against him, and thank Duncan as he slithers back into your view with a fresh bottle of wine.
"Is that what you tell yourself?" Oliver sounds almost a little rueful as he says it, but all you can do is snort with laughter, unsurprised that he doesn't believe you.
"Do you think I wasn't allowed at this gala tonight because I was, what, too poor?" He doesn't exactly have an answer for you, so you continue on anyways, "Ollie, my parents were hosting it; they just hate being reminded that they have a kid." It's the way you have nothing, nothing, nothing that loves you other than these memories, these two broken parents, that makes you bark a humourless laugh, "funny, isn't it?" Your eyes start misting over, and you can't look at Oliver for your thoughts and the grief as it wells up inside of you, "how I got the family I always wanted," a wide, ugly smile stretches across your face as the tears begin to pour, as it really, truly hits you, "all it cost me was fucking everything else."
("You should have let them go to the gala," years later he will tell a comatose Elspeth, barely clinging to life as he watches over her and the machines keeping her breathing, "you should have known they'd do something drastic." He takes an inhale, faint smile quirking at the edge of his mouth as he considers, but can't bring himself to look at Elspeth during these moments of his confessional.
"You had everything you needed in them; the ghost of your selfish children calling their best friend home, haunting us all even when they were gone. I admit, I was selfish, you didn't need me. No," he reconsiders, shaking his head with a frown, "they were selfish; they could have had the world and yet they chose to haunt you, haunt us."
"They were cute with Felix though, weren't they? Best friend. Soulmate. Dog. Says he was their everything, and I think Felix thought that about them too. Always tangled up in each other, weren't they? Something very Romeo and Juliet about them; romantic," he tried not to give a wicked grin at the thought, "that they'd kill themselves the same way he'd died."
"You never did ask why I was so sure Farleigh still had cocaine in his room after the party.")
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melancholy-of-nadia · 11 months
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Distraction (m) | myg
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title: Distraction pairing: yoongi x f. reader rating/genre: m ; smut ; Agust D Universe (AgustDverse?) specifically in the Haegeum Universe ; Gang Leader / Mafia AU summary: After a series of circumstances leads you to be the assistant/right-hand woman of Bangkok's local thief/gang leader Min Suga, you're diligent in fulfilling your role in helping him take down Detective (& Underground Mafia Boss) Agust D. What you didn't expect in this role, was to catch your own boss reading p*rngraphic material during his free time and finding out there are consequences to distracting him. warnings:  dirty talk, hair pulling, slight riding, fingering, breast play, nipple sucking, slight body worship if you squint, COCKWARMING, orgasm denial kinda, she's being punished, There's two Yoongis and Thief ver. is Suga/Yoongi while the Mafia Boss is Agust D IM PUTTING A WARNING FOR THESE MEN ARE DANGEROUS note: this is my first time ever writing a bts fic AND smut in a fic. I've written fics 10 years ago for different fandoms and i never thought I'd be doing this again but I got too stuck on this idea that I needed to LET IT OUT. shout out to my beta reader @daegudrama for beta reading and being a great supporter. Idk if I'll ever expand on this fic but here it is. FEEDBACK & Comments are much appreciated !! total word count: 3.6k drop date: july 1st 2023, 12:00pm pst CROSS POSTED ON AO3 here (honeyjamjoon is my user on there) - -
You stood at the entrance of Suga's run-down, yet aesthetically-looking office in the heart of Bangkok’s Chinatown.
After an abundance of incidents, you begun working as his assistant and right-hand woman in his underground operations to take down Asia Pacific Police Detective Agust D, who moonlights as a mafia leader on the down low. A mafia leader who looks exactly like him. Someone you used to be acquainted with at some point.
As you pushed open the ornate wooden door slightly, you found Suga lying down on the sofa, engrossed in an erotic women's magazine. His face adorned with his signature mischievous smirk as he turned a few pages. Men, you thought to yourself while trying to prevent a scoff from coming out your lips.
"Yoongi," you called out, your voice cutting through the silence of the room. Since you two were closer compared to his other men, you called out to him by his real name often.
Startled, Yoongi quickly closed the magazine and tossed it aside, his expression shifting to one of mild annoyance. "Hey doll, can't you knock? I was in the middle of something." Doll, his endearing nickname for you always made you feel some type of way. 
You raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence as you crossed my arms. "Oh, I'm sorry, Boss. I didn't know reading Playboy magazines was part of your daily agenda." you commented sarcastically, rolling your eyes in the process.
Yoongi's cheeks flushed slightly, caught red-handed by his sharp-witted assistant. He cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure. "It's...research. Yeah, research on...current trends."
You couldn't help but chuckle at his unusually flustered response. You sauntered closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, Boss, if you're done 'researching,' perhaps we can focus on more pressing matters?"
Yoongi let out a deep sigh, realizing he had been caught in his moment of leisure. "You're right, doll. Let's get down to business.” He moved from his position and straightened up his posture, all business-mode Suga once again. “What's the latest update on Agust?"
As you provided a detailed report on Agust D’s actions, you couldn't help but notice a twinkle of amusement in Yoongi's eyes. He had always been a man of few words, but his gaze held a silent appreciation for your wit and fearlessness in this line of work. Since meeting Yoongi, your professional relationship with him had always been one of mutual respect and trust, despite the dark world you both inhabited.
"You've done well, doll," Yoongi finally acknowledged at the end of your report, his voice laced with admiration. "I appreciate your dedication in doing this. This isn’t easy work, especially with so many eyes and ears working for Agust."
Your heart swelled with pride, knowing that your efforts were recognized by your boss, your leader. However, you know you can’t be feeling a certain type of way over his innocent comments.  You took a step closer, your voice lowering to a whisper. "Boss, may I remind you that there are eyes and ears on you too? It's crucial to maintain a certain level of decorum and professionalism."
Yoongi's lips curled into a sly side smile, his gaze locking with yours. "You're absolutely right. We should be more careful, especially when it comes to our private activities."
Your eyes widened in realization, understanding the underlying meaning in Yoongi's words. He can’t be trying to insinuate something, right? Being the brat you are, you decided to play along with his statement . A playful grin spread across your face as you sat on the opposite side of the sofa, crossing your arms once again. 
"Well, Boss, if you're looking for some 'private activities,' you could always start by hiring a proper assistant to keep you entertained."
Yoongi's eyebrows shot up, surprised by your audacity. A flicker of amusement danced in his eyes as he leaned back on the sofa. "Is that so? And who would you recommend for the position?"
You pretended to ponder for a moment, "Perhaps someone who knows your every move, can anticipate your needs, and can effortlessly keep you on your toes…”
“Someone like… you?" Yoongi smirked as he leaned closer, his voice filled with mischief. Your cheeks flushed with a mix of shyness and shock that he played this far into your game. "Well, in that case, I suppose I'll have to interview you for the position."
Damn, he got you cornered. Was this a dream, you thought to yourself. Usually when you’d have playful banter with Yoongi, he’d edge you on with his words and then immediately move onto business. But right now you’re left speechless. 
“Cat got your tongue?” He chuckled. Funny words coming from the same man who looked and acted like a cat himself at times.
“N-No..just.. dumbfounded.” You stumbled on your nervous response before giggling, “You got me good, Yoongi.” And this is where the game ended, or so you thought.
Yoongi locked eyes with you as he reached out and gently grasped your trembling hand. His touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, causing your breath to hitch. He tugged your hand gently, coaxing you to move closer to him.
"Doll," he said softly, his tone laced with a mix of authority and tenderness. "There's no need to get so shy around me all of a sudden."
Feeling a mixture of panic and excitement, you allowed Yoongi to guide you closer until you stood right in front of him. In a swift yet gentle motion, Yoongi pulled you onto his lap, your legs straddled him. Your heart pounded in your chest as you found yourself nestled against him, his arms wrapped protectively around your waist.
Yoongi's voice, now filled with a soothing warmth, resonated in your ear. "You may act bratty and shy, doll, but I can see through your facade. I know you're into this” He used one hand to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, “And I'm more than happy to oblige."
Your eyes widened, breath catching in your throat at his bold words. Yet, you couldn't deny the exhilarating truth behind them. A mix of embarrassment and desire coursed through your veins as you looked into Yoongi's eyes, your own filled with a mix of uncertainty and longing. You’ve been waiting for a moment like this for so long, but it felt silly to even believe it could happen one day. Let alone on a day where you catch Yoongi looking at porn. Sounds too good to be true.
In that moment, Yoongi tightened his hold on you and gently lifted you up a little. He glanced at you wholly, taking in the sight before him. He had always thought you were beautiful since the first day you encountered him in the night market while he was being chased by Agust D’s men. He too, didn’t imagine he’d have you to himself, but somehow the sexual frustration of not having time to pleasure himself pushed a button in him to try to make a move. 
He continued his movements by sliding his hands above your waist, approaching the peaks of your breasts. The soft touch sent shivers down your spine, and a blush crept across your cheeks. He looked at you to see if you were okay with moving further, to which you locked eyes with him and nodded your confirmation.
He began fondling your breasts slowly, tracing patterns of desire along your trembling flesh. His large hands on you felt so good it elicited soft gasps of pleasure from your lips. But you craved more. You wanted to feel him closer, and it seemed that he felt the same. He moved his hands to unbutton your sleeveless button front shirt from the top to bottom and then removed the garment completely. 
Under the shirt revealed a white floral lace bra with a cute pink ribbon in the center. "You know, doll," he murmured, his voice husky with desire, "Your bra is surprisingly cute." The sudden comment from Yoongi made your cheeks flush even more with a mix of embarrassment and pride. “It contrasts your workaholic demeanor. It’s nice to see a new side to you.”
Flushed and with a playful glint in your eyes, you mustered the courage to break free from your momentary shyness. With a teasing smile, you looked at Yoongi and whispered, “Shut up and just keep going,”
To which he smirked up at you and did just as you commanded. He went ahead and removed your bra, exposing your breasts to the slightly colder room temperature causing your nipples to pebble slowly. Yoongi groaned, squeezing your breasts together, and sucked a nipple between his lips. 
Mesmerizing sounds left your mouth when he flicked your nipple with his tongue and gently bit down. His tongue swirled around your sensitive areola, teasing it to a stiff peak as he cupped and massaged your other breast with one hand. Holding yourself steady with your fingers weaved through his pretty, long dark hair, you leaned back and arched your chest in toward his face.
You craved more besides these touches to your delicate breasts, but fearing changes in your ‘boss and right-hand man’ relationship with Yoongi had you hesitating further. You moved your hands to the top of his shoulders to push him away from your chest. “Maybe we shouldn’t keep going, Yoongi.” You looked at him, before deciding to look away and continue speaking, “We’ve been focused on taking down Agust D, and if we do this… it might get in the way of our goals.”
Yoongi let out a deep chuckle, “You know goals are one thing, but you think I haven’t noticed the way your body language radiates when you’re around me.” 
Your eyes widened, “W-What do you mean?” You weren’t being that obvious about these underlying work crush feelings, have you?
“The way you carry yourself when we tease each other? When you sway your ass in your little skirts to get me riled up?” He lifted a brow up inquisitively, hands drawing circles on your thighs to carry his point home. “I know you too well to know you want this too.”
You scoffed, “Hah? Yoongi, I think all the porn mags and hentai mangas you’ve read during your free time has gotten to your head.” You cupped his face with your small palms (in comparison to his large hands) and looked at him intently. “Maybe it’s time to ease up on that, sir.”
“I’m serious, doll.” He grabbed your hands away from his face and stared harshly, “I'd rather have you in my arms, feeling your warmth against me, than flipping through those Playboy magazines during my free time."
Literally, no words could release from your lips. You’re just awestruck that this carefree man who threw witty and sarcastic remarks on a daily basis could have conjured such a confession to you. You found it endearing in a way, knowing his exterior is just a facade and inside lies a compassionate soul named Min Yoongi. 
At this moment, you decided to surrender, allowing yourself to be consumed by the passion growing between the two of you. Embraced in the untamed fire that blazed in Yoongi's eyes. “Then, keep going. Waiting to see how you’ll keep me entertained.”
Quickly, Yoongi's lips descended upon yours, the kiss ignited an unknown sensation inside of you. The taste of anticipation lingered in the air as your mouths melded together in a fervent fight. His lips, soft yet demanding, explored every contour of yours, coaxing forth sighs of pleasure that escaped each others’ entwined breaths.
Feeling a bit assertive, you gently bit his lips as a signal for him to allow your tongue to intertwined with his, to which he smiled and let you in. Both your movements synchronized, a blend of dominance and tenderness. However, which each stroke of his tongue, he claimed your mouth, marking you as his own in a surge of possessiveness that sent shivers cascading down your spine.
As your bodies pressed closer, the intensity and eagerness to have him inside you grew. You once again let your fingers find solace in the soft strands of Yoongi's hair, tugging a bit which he responded to with a groan. Breaths mingling with the heady mix of desire that filled the room. Your hips meet Yoongi’s hard cock, visibly straining against his demin jeans, as you begin lightly grinding against him, needing to relieve yourself of this feeling blooming in your abdomen.
However, unbeknownst to you, Yoongi had other plans in mind. He suddenly held down your thighs to prevent you from moving further. You whine at him, frustrated. 
“Doll, I’m not gonna fully give you what you want right now.” The mischievous glint in his gaze betrayed his desire for retribution. He saw an opportunity to playfully punish you for catching him indulging in the guilty pleasure of his magazine. “Since you interrupted me earlier, I’m only going to let you sit on my cock as punishment. No riding.”
“Are you serious right now–” You paused, Yoongi lifting an inquisitive brow up in response. If you kept arguing with him, his stubborn self will deprive you of everything at this moment, his desires be damned. The thing you didn’t need right now was for him to command you to watch him jerk off or leave the room and go find someone else to fulfill his needs. “...Fine, Boss. Your wish is…my command.” You sighed, gripping his shoulders.
“Condom?”
“No, it’s okay. I take birth control.” He eyed you intently. “NOT for what you think. I take it to regulate my cycle.” You responded, annoyed while he chuckled. Not like you had the time to be fucking people left and right in this high stakes job you had. You take your role very seriously, mind him.
He lifted you so he’s able to lift his own hips up to pull his pants down. He pulled his dick out and you stared at how it sprung up against his stomach, almost to full hardness already. It’s so thick and fat, you thought to yourself. You had imagined how he’d look underneath his clothes, but your thoughts never compared to the [reality of his] pale pink dick with small drops of precum at the top of the head. Yoongi took note of your glances and exhaled harshly. He slid his hands up your thighs to the hem of your skirt and pulled it to where your pink striped panties came into his sight. 
“You’re seriously so cute, you know that?” You mumbled a shut up as your cheeks reddened from his continued compliments. He pushed your panties to the side, placing two fingers teasingly at your entrance, collecting the wetness that you already displayed. "Do you need to be prepped more? Or can you take my cock without it?" He locked eyes with you as he slipped his two fingers easily in, quickly causing your walls to tighten around his digits.
“I-It’s fine, Yoongi,” You moaned his name quietly. You knew you were wet enough from the previous motions that you could do without it. “Just put your dick inside me already so we can call it a day.." He raised his eyebrows at your commanding attitude. "P-Please..”
Chuckling, he pulled his fingers out and grabbed your hips again. He took his throbbing dick in his hand and lined it up to your entrance. He sunk you down, slowly taking him in inch by inch, the thickness stretched you out more than you expected. You moaned out as quietly as you could, still struggling to fit all of him inside you. Yoongi kept a hand on your hips to guide you down, while the other caressed your back in reassurance.
"Keep going, love." Love? A new nickname? "You’re doing great." He praised, while trying his best to hold in beautiful sounds of his own.
With his encouraging words, you took a deep breath and moved down until your pussy had swallowed him whole, his head right against your cervix. "Just right…you did it," Yoongi cooed. He cupped your cheeks and made you look at him. "How does this feel?"
You’re starting to lose composure already, "I-It feels g-good…" you stammered, dragging out the last word while letting your eyes roll to the back of your head. 
"Great, but..” He stretched out to grab the D-Grayman vol 22 manga lying around on the table “Don’t you dare move. I’m gonna read." 
“I can’t believe you… you sick, sick man.”  His laughter rolled through him, which involuntarily  created a ripple of pleasure building within your cunt, a warmth growing again and spreading through your every nerves. Besides the fact that his warm cock was snug within you, filling you more completely than a dildo of yours could ever, you couldn't recall another moment where you’ve felt so content. While at first you were scared of crossing a line in your relationship, you can’t deny this feels just right.
He wrapped his right around your waist, while using his left to hold his book and flip the pages. Perks of having big hands, you wonder what else they could do. You laid your head on his right shoulder, eyes slowly squeezing shut. Maybe you should take a nap. 
However, while Yoongi seemed to be nonchalant and relaxed, he was struggling a lot more than you to not say fuck this and fuck you roughly in a cowgirl position. Because just as you were relaxing, suddenly his cock fucking twitched. You gasped, your cunt clenching involuntarily and wrapping tighter around his length. A shiver shot up your spine as you instinctively pushed back on him, taking him even deeper into you from a higher angle. 
“Yoongi, I swear..”
“Sorry. That was on me, doll.” He went back to reading before adding on a few minutes later, “I’m tempted to fuck you, but I’ll save it for another time. If I give in now, I’ll probably want to fuck you everywhere and anywhere we go. Want to teach you a lesson.” 
“Yoongi!” Your eyes widened and you smacked his back. He chuckled lowly. Pisces men really are lowkey sex freaks. You don’t know what you’d do if this man asks you if he can tie you up with ropes or vice versa. Let’s hope he’s just into vanilla shit for the sake of your sanity,
For the rest of the time, he stayed true to his word and remained resilient. At some point, you drifted off to dreamland, feeling so comfortable and cozy sitting on his dick. You faintly felt a kiss on your temple, though you’re not sure if you dreamed it, or if Yoongi actually did it. You didn’t bother thinking too much about it now.
The next thing you know, you woke up later that afternoon, laying down on the sofa with a blanket covering you. You glanced around to find Yoongi, but he was nowhere in sight. You checked your phone on the table and saw text messages from 35 minutes ago
Yoongi: Hey doll, got a call from joon saying he found the drug operation Agust D is hiding above that one good noodle shop in chinatown. I had to go with him and some of the guys ready to bust it down. I’ll be sure to to get you a bowl of noodles when I’m done. 
Yoongi: Extra beef and very spicy, right?
God, you’re actually gonna fall in love with this man. He really does pay attention to the little details about you more than you realized. 
You text back knowing he’s probably not going to be back for a bit longer.
Y/N: Yes pls! Don’t forget to bring some chopsticks.
Yoongi: 👍
Not long after, before the sun sunk underneath the horizon, he arrived back to the office holding a bag of take-out food from Asian Beef Noodle shop. “Sorry to keep you waiting. We got everything taken care of.”
Your eyes lit up with admiration as you sat up on the couch, your lips curling into a grateful smile. "Great job, boss."
Yoongi's gaze softened as he placed the tray of noodles on the coffee table in front of you. He took a seat beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours. "I appreciate your support, doll. So, I brought these noodles as a small peace offering."
"You're forgiven, I suppose,” You chuckled, voice filled with soft warmth. “Noodles are easily the best way to my heart."
Your playful comment sent a spark of anticipation through Yoongi. He grinned, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "Well, I’ll make it up to you later, for being so good. Look forward to tonight," he whispered, his voice laced with a sultry tone.
Your cheeks flushed at the promise in his words, your gaze meeting his with a mixture of desire and excitement. “You’re making me embarrassed,” you sighed, replying further with a sultry voice with anticipation. “But, you better not disappoint. I’ll leave your side!” You joked, both of you laughing at the silliness of this conversation
Despite the fluttering emotions from earlier reawakening from his words, you two continued to share a comfortable silence, the aroma of the noodles filling the air. With a newfound sense of closeness, you two dug into the delicious meal, savoring the flavors and basking in the afterglow of their earlier passion. It was a moment of shared contentment, where the chaos of both your lives momentarily faded away, leaving only the warmth of connection and comfort of each other's presence.
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