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#pining
dewdropdinosaur · 1 day
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Flush Little Baby, Don't You Cry
ALASTOR x READER
Summary: Alastor thinks your permanent blush is cute, similar to Charlie's even. But what if you aren't actually blushing at all his advances?
Warnings: Small mention of scars, allusions to death. Rating: PG
For the always lovely @anon-of-the-void Ask and you shall receive my dear!! Requests are still open - see pinned post for details!
In the chaotic space of the Hazbin Hotel, where demons sought redemption amidst the swirling chaos of Hell, an unexpected connection began to blossom between Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon, and you, a newcomer to the hotel's staff as a receptionist.(To which Husk was greatly pleased that now he could just focus on bartending and not deal with as many ‘idiots’)
Alastor, with his charismatic demeanor and macabre sense of humor, found himself strangely drawn to your presence. You were different from the other inhabitants of the hotel, having a quiet demeanor and gentle nature standing out amidst the cacophony of voices and chaos. However, neither of you had dared to voice romantic interest, both of you unsure of the other's feelings and your own.
It was during one of your chance encounters early on in the hotel's grand foyer that Alastor noticed something peculiar about you. Little red circles adorned your cheeks, slightly tinted whenever you smiled or laughed. Even when, and especially when, frightened - they glowed slightly. Alastor found himself captivated by this. At first, he dismissed those little circles as mere blush or simple state of your demon form similar to Charlie or Nifty, finding them endearing in their resemblance to the delicate flush that adorned his mother's face in his long-forgotten memories of his mortal life.To him, it was endearing, a subtle charm that only added to your allure and reminded him of a simpler time in his life that brought him a sense of peace and familiarity. 
Because of this assumption, Alastor's fondness for you only grew, his interest piqued by the circle's presence. He found himself seeking out your company more often, engaging in lively conversations and sharing moments of laughter amidst the chaos of the hotel, just to see the cute flush of your rosy cheeks every time. The revelation ignited a fierce protectiveness within Alastor, a primal instinct to shield you from any harm that might befall you. He watched over you like a silent guardian, his presence a comforting shadow in the tumultuous world of the hotel.
However, his actions did not go unnoticed by the other inhabitants of the hotel, who watched with a mixture of amusement and bemusement as the usually aloof Radio Demon became fiercely protective of their new receptionist. Some whispered behind closed doors, speculating on the nature of your relationship, while others simply shook their heads in amusement at Alastor's unexpected display of strange affection.
As the days passed, you too began to notice Alastor's increased vigilance and protective nature. Sensing his concern, you decided it was time to address the elephant in the room. One evening, as the chaos of the hotel ebbed into a rare moment of tranquility, you found yourself alone with Alastor in his radio room, a perk that only you and Nifty enjoyed. It was a cozy tower despite its menacing metal exterior, with cozy chairs and vintage curtains. A lot like Alastor in a way, scary on the outside and maybe even the inside but something sweet and old was there too. 
Taking a deep breath and mustering the courage to broach the subject that had been weighing on your mind, you spoke. 
"Alastor," You began softly, voice barely above a whisper, "I noticed you've been... different around me lately. And I think it's because of these." With a hesitant hand, you gestured to the crimson circles on your cheeks that had remained beneath layers of uncertainty and shame.  In your time in Hell, many had found out about the circles on your cheeks. And had left you for them. So you were worried about approaching Alastor on this subject to say the least. 
Alastor turned his attention towards you, his crimson eyes softening with concern. "I assure you, my dear, it's merely a demon's instinct to protect those they care about."
You nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips at his veiled confession. You would note that for later. "I appreciate it, truly. But there's something I need to tell you."
With a gentle touch, you traced your fingertips along the scared cheeks, gaze meeting Alastor's unwavering stare. "These marks... they're not from blushing or simply a part of my demon state…. They're scars – reminders of a past I'd rather forget."
Alastor's expression shifted from curiosity to empathy as he listened to this confession. Suddenly it all clicked in his head. The way you would flinch when anyone would get too close too quickly, loud noises sparked the tint of the scars to glow, and how the scars moved with each expression you made. They stayed on your face 24/7 but didn’t shrink or expand like Charlie’s with each new expression. Instead they stayed stagnant and were less of circles and more oval shaped. Definitely not a blush or demon feature now that he had a closer look. 
In fact, that cute little blush that he adored so much didn't happen within the circular scars on your face but around them. How had he been so blind? His shadows would mock him later for this.
"I see," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Mhmm, yet they do nothing but add to your fierce beauty my dear."
You felt a wave of relief wash over you as you met Alastor's understanding gaze. In that moment, both of you realized that despite the literal and metaphorical scars that haunted their pasts, they had found solace and understanding in each other's presence.  
He reached out to gently cup your cheek, his touch surprisingly tender despite his fearsome reputation. And this time, you didn’t flinch away but instead leaned into his embrace. It felt warm and comforting and he smelled like holiday cinnamon whiskey and pine. (Which my dear, as your sassy narrator I think sounds/smells like an Old Spice commercial but this is Hell and Alastor has no idea what that brand is)  
And as you both sat together in the quiet sanctuary of Alastor's radio room, surrounded by the faint crackle of static and the soft hum of his radio, you knew that you had found a confidant in the enigmatic Radio Demon – someone who accepted your scars, both seen and unseen, and vowed to stand side to side with you no matter what trials lay ahead.
Maybe that half hearted confession Alastor made had some truth to it and maybe your confession was right around the corner too. 
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penvisions · 1 day
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by the grit of sandpaper {chapter 1}
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Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader
Chapter Summary: But what is there to miss at the end of the world? It depends on the person, but you? You would do anything for decent kitchen gadgets, something you let slip to your routine patrol partner, one Joel Miller.
Word Count: 5.2k
Warnings: canon typical violence (later chapters), canon typical language, illusions to past death, illusions to past trauma, pining, unrequited feelings, joel a little daft in this, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, mild injuries, head injury, reader bonks her head, mild concussion, lots of feelings, slight angst, hurt and comfort, joel miller's hands need their own warning, jealousy, two (2) instances of joel miller gently touching reader, intentional flirting, unintentional flirting. fluff, this is so unbelievably soft, reader has a commonly used nickname but no assigned name
A/N: home on bed rest today after a cortisone shot and i was reading through the draft for this when the words all came together for the first installment and i'm super excited to share it with y'all ♡
ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi
Joel Miller was a quiet man, not quick to engage in conversation beyond the pleasantries of greeting someone as he crossed paths with them, or asking after the issues people bring to his attention. Not quick to divulge his personal activities or words of his past. But he was willing to help anyone who approached him, the list on the spiral notepad in his back pocket never ending. Every single pair of the man’s pants held the same distressed markings, a testament to how he never left home without it wedged into the fabric.
But you wouldn’t admit to having noticed such a small thing.
The man’s pants were none of your concern, truly. As someone who regularly patrolled with him, would wave to him throughout the town’s streets and gatherings though he would seldom return it, his attention pulled toward someone wishing to interact with him. But that didn’t mean you weren’t aware of the faded lines along the denim stretched over his backside.
Almost as if were a secret you held to yourself much like the fondness you found pulling at your lips every time you mounted your horse alongside him and left through the gates.
The man in question held out a thermos to you, steam rising from the top of it where he had left it open to breath. The early morning carrying a slight chill despite the birds chirping happily and the buds beginning to bloom along the trees around the town.
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“So, I know you’re good with a shotgun,” His rich baritone washed over you, warming you faster than the coffee he had taken the time to brew and the rising sun, barely cresting over the horizon now. “But what do you like to do to fill your time?”
“Like…for fun? Or to make the day go by?” You quirked an eyebrow, looking sideways at Joel as he rode a few paces ahead, he knew the trail by heart at this point. The same one you always did this time of the month, a routine set in stone that allowed you a pocket of alone time with him outside the town’s walls.
“Either. Both.”
“Um, well it’s not so easy now, but cooking, making things for people to enjoy.” You took a tentative sip, slurping accidentally as you realized it was still a touch too hot for the sensitive skin of your lips. You sputtered, droplets of the hot liquid flecking along the saddle and back of the appaloosa’s neck. The sweet mare startled, halting in her steps. The sudden stop causing you to knock the top of the thermos to your chin, more of the hot liquid finding your lips.
“Fu- c’mon Lowry, you know I didn’t mean to get ya!” You lightly scolded, tugging on the collar of your button up to wipe at your now throbbing face. You felt heat flood you, fluttering in your stomach as you realized how embarrassing a sight you just put on for the man beside you. But he wasn’t chuckling with that deep rumble he tended to do sometimes. Instead, he was calmly urging his own steed to come to a stop.
He dismounted, coming up beside you. He had a clean kerchief in his hand that he was holding out to you. You had no idea where he pulled it from, his jacket pockets were zipped closed. At least, they looked like it as your eyes had roved over his form ahead of you. Once you wiped the coffee from your face, he was moving closer, causing your heart to flutter.
“Lemme see,” His thick fingers were brushing your bottom lip and you froze. His eyes were focused on the way they looked irritated, catching the soft morning light. You tried to hide the way your breath hitched, but you were sure it puffed against his thumb, giving your nervousness away. He had never been so forward before, only spare instances of hands and thighs brushing against each other over the months you’ve been paired with him. “Doesn’t look too bad, sweetheart.”
As quickly as he had reached out, he was moving away with a lingering brush of his hand along your chin, an unreadable expression on his face. All you could do was nod an affirmative, feeling heat bloom in your chest and the swell of your cheeks.
Lowry knickered, bobbing her head. Joel’s hand then reached out and caressed the side of her face, gentle sounds humming from his chest.
“Were you a fancy, make it from scratch kinda cook or one that threw everythin’ in a crock pot and played the waiting game?” He turned his head to the side, catching your eye. A small grin you weren’t sure how to read pulling at his plush lips. “I was pretty hopeless in the kitchen, made a lot of spaghetti and had a lot of cereal.”
“Oh, um, from scratch.” You thought back to the meals you would create, the flavor profiles you would put together. “But that’s not so bad, sometimes routine is good, I’m sure you needed the carbs and protein to do….carpentry?”  
“Contracting, actually.”
“I had a contractor scheduled to look into a re-do of my kitchen, but they never showed. It was such a letdown; he came so highly recommended. But I guess it was just too big of a project for him.”
“Nah, was probably just a matter of supply and demand.” He easily comforted you. “Kitchens are a lot of work. Especially if the design is for someone who spends a lot of time in the room. Need all kinda gadgets for that, hmm?”
“Typically, which is why it can be such a hassle nowadays. But it’s a small price to pay for being so safe in town. The loss of a good cutting board or sturdy utensils is a good trade for the life we have.”
Joel only hummed in response, and you felt like you had spoken too much. Opened up in the wrong way to the man back in front of you, his horse trotting along happily.
He didn’t ask you any more questions as the route was made and you didn’t try to bridge the gap, feeling foolish for voicing your rather naïve loss of kitchenware. You often has small conversations of a similar fashion, a simple question. Not too focused, general. Easy going subjects that allowed you glimpses of each other.
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Later that night, Joel stood in the doorway of his workspace.
He had just stepped out of the shower, washing the long hours of the day from his shoulders. Ellie had left a plate of what she deemed dinner for him with a note before she had taken off for the night.
‘Gotta keep your mind sharp, old man. Here’s some dinner cause I know you didn’t stop to eat all day.’
She had even included a smiley face with downturned eyebrows, the little shit. And it made him realize he needed to set some time aside for another guitar lesson, just the two of them. A day on the porch in the warm sun while it was still the season for it. It was well into Autumn, the leaves changing into rich colors all around the town and in the forests beyond the walls.
But not seeing her didn’t feel like the worst thing because it had been a productive day. Patrol with you, then helping Tommy to work through foundation of a few new houses. The town was growing and he was glad to help, never having even dared to dream of a place such as this before he had quite literally stumbled upon it nearly a year ago.
Eyes trailing over everything he had neatly organized in the room. The different, albeit only a handful, types of wood he had accumulated with the help of the council. There was an ancient sawmill in one of the town’s buildings, used to help cut downed trees to turn them into lumber for construction. Tommy had been able to help them run diagnostics on it once he had become a part of the population, his shared past with his brother allowing for him to have the knowledge to maintenance it and get it in operating form.
He wasn’t sure what wood was typically used for kitchenware, nor was he sure he had a food safe sealant. But he was going to inspect everything in town, mind working overtime as he removed the small spiral notebook from his back pocket and began writing down his thoughts as they bubbled up.
Spatulas
Serving spoons
Rolling pins
Spoon rests
Cutting boards
Joel underlined the last one, knowing what a vision it would be to see you lovingly stood at the counter in his kitchen making a meal for a shared dinner. And excited smile on your face, explaining the details of the recipe you were working on. And he would listen to every word, even if he didn’t understand. To see the brightness of your soft smile as you shared parts of yourself with him. He rather liked that you had become his regular patrol partner, you could read the moods he felt. If he was open to conversation, if he needed little quips to keep him on his toes, if he had had a small argument or disagreement with Ellie and needed to either stew or hash it out.
You were good and he wanted to use his aching hands to not only provide for the town, but to provide for you as well.
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The rest of the week passed easily, another patrol alongside Joel having occurred. But he had been rather quiet, in his head for most of the silent trip around the settlement. You hadn’t thought much of it, in your own thoughts as well. Made okay by the pair of thermoses of coffee he had brought along for you both indulge in. An easy-going rapport built up between the two of you, one where the sharing of such a commodity was matched.
Upon taking the first tentative sip, he had assured you it wasn’t as hot as last time.
The strong heat it lacked seemed to bloom across your cheeks, recalling the last time he had handed it to you. The whisper of his fingers against your lip as he inspected it for burns making it hard to look at the man watching you take a drink, ensuring that it really was cool enough to not harm you.
Smiling to yourself at the memory, you made your way through the streets and into the front of the town, toward the collection of shops with a list in your pocket. But all thoughts of productivity were halted when you spotted him.
Joel’s broad back was visible even from down the main street. Busy working on repairing a sign for one of the shops that fronted along it. The sawhorses he had propped up supported the new frame he was building according to predetermined measurements. You watched as he leaned down to read something along the wood, pencil tucked behind his ear, a tape measure carefully stretched out. His hand patted at his back pocket, the sound making heat bloom in your stomach and dive lower as suddenly as the sound.
Someone shouted his name before you could even form your lips around the sound of his name, his head lifting up and looking right past you to whoever it had been. Your half-raised hand feeling awkward, and a wave of embarrassment whooshed through you. You shoved your hand in your pocket and kept on your path, though you had no true reason to be on this side of town. The only one you had now occupied with someone else.
You didn’t dare look his way or see who it was who called to him as you crossed the street and began to inspect the fruit out on display. The first tentative crops of the season had done decently enough and then flourished. Apples aplenty. The trees so fruitful this year. Reprimanding yourself for entertaining the thought of ambling around, you decided to actually get a few errands done. You were out already, after all.
You had signed your name along the inventory and the weight of the apples you deemed worthy of being backed into a pie when a bark of laughter had you whirling around. He was working no longer, attention pulled to the woman standing closely in front of him. Joel’s hand cupped over her shoulder. His expression was so open, his eyes kind and trained on her. She reached up to brush some sawdust from his curls and you bolted.
But you hadn’t looked.
And you ran right into the end of the wooden boards Tommy had balanced on his shoulder as he walked down the street. Pain blossomed on the corner of your forehead at the contact, balance suddenly gone along with it. The canvas bag of apples flies from your grip, bouncing around the packed gravel of the street just as your body thumps to the ground.
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A pair of voices pulled you back from unconsciousness. A dull ache reverberating from your temple and you groaned as you brought a hand up to gently prod at the spot. You were in your bed, a small thing to be grateful for. Not too fond of the small medical center set up in the middle of town, right off of main street. Tommy’s steps were quiet as they came down the hall, his voice preceding his entrance.
“You awake, Olive? What had you so distracted? You walked right into me.” His strong brows were furrowed, concern etched into his weather features. His curls bouncing with his steps as he came to rest on the end of your bed. He wasn’t teasing, question genuine and worry wafting from him as he reached a hand out to jostle your foot atop the covers.
“Shut up, Tommy. I was lookin’ at my feet.” You felt heat creep up your face, recalling the way you had been ogling his older brother and then gotten so worked up that the man had been touching another woman so causally. It shouldn’t have bothered you, it was really none of your business.
Sensing the serious hush of your words, Tommy regarded you with sharp eyes.
“It’s not like you to not be aware of your surroundings. Please tell me what happened?”
“Nothing happened.” You kept his gaze, eyes not giving anything away as you moved to sit up. But it was too fast a movement, the momentum of your balance thrown off as your temple throbbed. A hissed curse fell from your lips.
“…okay. Well, you’re off from patrol tomorrow, to rest that bump on your pretty little head, okay?”
“I can do patrol.” You felt panic flare hot in your chest, worried for the reason of losing your time with Joel out beyond the gates and not because the man in front of you thought your injury was serious enough to take you off of rotation.
“Honey, you smacked your head into some lumber. Don’t think you need to be on a horse right now, just take the day, okay? For me?” When you looked back up, he was making big eyes at you, knowing you couldn’t resist his kicked puppy routine.
“Tommy, do not look at me like that.”
“Can’t blame me for using it when I know it makes you crumble.” A upturn of his lips on one side allowed for a dimple to appear. Maria was a lucky woman, though you knew that for all the strength and seriousness she possessed, she was no match for the same look aimed her way.
“You’re a butt.” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest and settling into the pillows even more.
“Yeah,” He stood from the bed and walked over place a bottle of aspirin on the small table you kept beside it. “But you like it.”
“Not when it’s aimed at me.”
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The apples you had tried to get yesterday were on the counter down the hall when you finally got up from the bed. It was late, well into the night but sleep wasn’t coming easily. The echo of Joel’s easy laughter and voice from across the street as he talked with the woman in your ears.
With the warm light of your kitchen, you washed away your worries and thoughts by beginning to mix together a dough. Letting it set to rise for a bit as you washed a circular pan, cut the apples into thin slices, and prepared a mix of seasonings. Creating something with the energy flowing through you that had no other outlet.
You had just made a kettle of tea, body tired from the out-of-routine events of the last twelve hours and allowing you to sleep well past the rising of the sun. A distant thought of now being about the time you would be approaching the gates and waiting for them to allow you back in.
Curling your legs up, you had just settled into the couch with a book and your mug when a knock sounded on your front door. Startling, you felt your heart hammer harshly a few times before you stood back up and moved toward it.
You weren’t sure who you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t Joel in his post patrol glory. His curls were windswept, some of them frizzing and creating a hallow around his head. His cheeks were a little dusty from the strong rays of the early morning sun, illuminating his golden skin in a rather eye-catching way.  
“Hey, sorry, did I wake you?” One of his hands was resting on the doorway, his jacket pulled open as it rested over his shoulders unzipped. Broad, your mind helpfully pointed out. He took up nearly the entire doorway, the sun behind him and his face lit up from the open windows of your living room. Shadows making it obvious how big of a man he was.
“Oh, um, no. I was just starting to get up and about.” You stepped out of the way, a silent invitation for him to enter your home. He had only been a handful of times before. To fetch Ellie as she waited for him to return from a later patrol, not wanting to be in the main part of his house alone. Or to help fix something that had begun to have problems. There had always been a reason and you were trying to figure out the current one. “Do you want some tea? I just made a kettle of orange spice.”
He followed you through the living room after ensuring the door was securely sealed. As he did you were made aware of the oversized cardigan you had thrown on over a camisole, sweatpants that were too big fastened around your waist.
“Missed ya on patrol this morning,” He took the offered mug, taking a tasting sip before offering you a grateful smile. You knew he wasn’t big on tea, but this one you suspected would pass the test. His voice was low, velvety smooth in that drawl of his. It warmed you up, filling your chest. And for a second, you thought he meant it. “Jesse was the replacement. That boy sure does have a mouth on him, prattled on and on about I don’t even know what.”
Only for a second, because of course he would prefer you to one of the younger members of the settlement alongside him.
“I was just feeling a little under the weather,” You averted your eyes from his, roving up and down your form at your words. A glint of something behind them you couldn’t read. He didn’t buy it, the flimsy excuse. You could tell because one of his brows arched and that damned dimple appeared in his right cheek as his lips lifted up in a teasing smirk.
“Not tryna get away from me, are ya?” That same, syrupy drawl coasted you and made your movements slow. There was an undertone of something in his words that you tried not to read too much into. He was just joking, right?
As if you could even try. He was a staple of the town, from his physical presence at every important meeting to the things he fixed. Pieces of him, of the life he had created for himself and for Ellie prominent all around.
“No, ah- ha, this is so embarrassing but,” You busied yourself with finding a small enough container to send him home with a piece of the pie sitting uncut on the table. Having been left to cool after your late night baking escapade. Setting it down beside the pan, you picked up the knife you had taken out just before Joel knocked on your door, intending to cut into it at some point during the day. “I hit my head yesterday and Tommy insisted I take the day off.”
“Are you alright?” He was stepping close, one of his hands coming up to gently brush your hair away from your face while the other took the knife from your hand and set it back on the table. Eyes searching for any sign of the injury, his lips thinning when they landed on the bruise on your temple you had tried to hide. It had mottled overnight, into a dark purple, faded around the edges of the raised bump in the middle. His thumb whispered against it, causing you to suck in a deep breath full of the smell of him. His chest was so close that it brushed against your own with it, his face was so close that you could see the individual hairs of his salt and pepper scruff, the freckles decorating his weathered skin.
Dizzying, it was so dizzying to be that close.
Your eyes fluttered closed as he was suddenly leaning in even closer. His head ducking to allow for his lips to softly brush over the bruise, not wanting to agitate it but wanting to soothe.
“There,” His breath fanned over your face, the lingering scent of coffee along with it. And then he was stepping back, his hands dropping from where they had cradled you. “All better.”
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The sunlight was soft, streaming in through the kitchen window. Illuminating a rich, thick cut of mahogany. Stepping closer towards the counter, your hands twitch as if to reach and run over the expanse of the smooth wood. It was carved to be a perfect shape and size, small feet propping it up from the counter directly. Little flowers engraved in the corners and protected by a sheen of sealant. It was beautiful and you blinked quickly to stave off the tears surging at the sight.
He did it. He listened to you.
Footsteps had you turned from it, hips meeting the edge of the counter as you tried to act like you hadn’t been admiring the new addition to the home casually laid out for people to see.
Tommy had a bottle in his hands, wine he had found on a recent patrol that he thought you’d like. But as soon as he entered the room, he clocked that you had gotten up from your spot, what you were next to.
“Who knew my brother would end up making decorative pieces in the apocalypse, huh?”
“I don’t know him well enough to agree, we only patrol together.” Smooth words didn’t betray the way you pictured the man seated and concentrating on carving into the block of wood to create something so beautiful. His large hands gripping the handles of tools you couldn’t even begin to name, brushes to wipe away the shavings, to slather the sealant over it. The striking sound of sandpaper fills your senses along with the scent of freshly carved wood.
A lingering one you could often catch if Joel was close enough, of rich cedar mingled with whatever he used to wash. Culminating into how he always smelled, signature, familiar. Easy to pick out in a crowd and no it was him. Blinking, you focused back in the present, reigning in your thoughts of a man you had no business thinking after in such a manner.
He was a patrol partner. An acquaintance.
“Oh hush, Olive, you know him more than most.”
You just hummed, eyes looking everywhere but at the man across the room. He busied himself pouring a drink into two glasses. Just as you took a sip, Maria entered the room with Joel right behind her, shoulders laden down with canvas bags. Seems they had been out, and he decided to walk her home, protective even on unsure ground with the woman deep into her pregnancy.
“It really is beautiful Joel, already have a few requests for them from some people around town.” Maria joined in the conversation, noticing the way that Joel’s eyes had zoned in on the piece of wood settled atop the counter. As if he was seeing each mistake and wrong shave of the wood even from across the room. He moved to place the bags he had taken from her atop the table, nodding a greeting at you as he realized you were right beside the thing he had tried his hand at creating. Spurred on by your little tangent weeks ago.
“Not really lookin’ to make that my pastime, yours was just a trial run.” Joel shrugged the words off, the praise off, like he so often did. Even when the haphazard crew he worked with completed repairs on a building or created a new one from the ground up, it was always the same response. A brush of the direct compliment to everyone who worked on it together, even if it was his plans and his hands that had played a part in the whole thing.
“Don’t even know where you got the idea, brother, such a random thing to think to make.” Tommy moved to press his lips to Maria’s cheek in greeting before helping her to put things away.
Your eyes snapped to Joel, willing him to admit that it hadn’t been his idea, but your own. It was silly, really, to want his immediate family to know that you two had talked, shared things with each other that resulted in an item that was now a part of their life. Pointless, no real connection except for the one made up in your mind and an overinflated sense of importance. Just a throwaway comment when you recalled the difference good cooking supplies could make. He wouldn’t meet your eyes, his hands deep in his pockets and his shoulder hunched.
“Jus’ came to me, one night, is all.”
Your chest panged at his indifference; it didn’t have to mean anything. But it meant something: that he didn’t want to reveal that he had opened up to you once upon a time on patrol. That he had listened to you as you had done the same. Couldn’t let others know that he was open to genuine conversation sometimes. Or maybe just that it was with you, someone he tended to look over in the crowds of gatherings and events, more often than not You huffed around a mouthful of wine and set the still half full glass down.
“I’m shoving off, see y’all later.”
“Oh wait, I wanted to see if we could trade patrols. Kinda why I brought out the bribe of wine.” Tommy turned wide eyes to you, knowing the whole set up of his favor was being thwarted by the arrival of his wife and brother. It was easier to ask you of things alone, not that you were known to turn them down, but you preferred to stay under the radar. Avoid direct attention, direct recognition for the things you accomplished and helped with around town. For the way you always made sure the elderly got home safe after important meetings and children who got turned around were reunited with their guardians.
“….which patrol?” You tried to hide the suspicion in your voice, positive he was about to ask you to do the overnight route with Joel in his place that would happen in a few days’ time. Something you didn’t do. Ever. Overnight routes something you didn’t have the wherewithal to handle, not since you had lost your last connection to what the world had been before. It had been relatively soon after settling into Jackson when it had happened, a handful of years ago now, but Tommy nor Maria had ever even thought to ask it of you.
You supposed they figured with Joel having settled in nicely himself the past year, that it was time to consider broaching the subject.
“Teton.” Joel supplied when Tommy choked, unable to voice his request. Knowing they would all be standing there for a few moments for the younger man to find his words between your almost fearful look and the suspicious one Maria was pinning him with as she looked from you to the wine and toward to her fumbling husband.
“Oh, um, I haven’t done that one in a long while. I don’t do the overnight routes, you know that. Surely you wanna find someone who’s done it more recently? Someone who does it regularly.”
“Think-you, uh, you’re about ready.” He managed to get out, his body no longer relaxed but picking up and responding to the way you had tensed up. The way his brother had. Feeding off of each other’s energy in a way he couldn’t begin to understand, but wanting to assure you that he had confidence in your skills and knowledge. Despite the things that had occurred for you to only stick to the same routine of early morning patrols a week.
“Tommy…” You didn’t feel particularly comfortable being asked in front of Joel. You don’t think he knew, had any idea of how had lost yourself. Rumors ran rampant around the settlement, but you hoped that those surrounding you had dwindled down to nothing but recent events. You knew for a fact Marsha liked to say you put too much sugar in your pie fillings, trying to hook everyone onto them with a heavy hand. But it wasn’t your fault that her pies always got looked over when yours was set right beside hers.  
“I know you have your reservations, Olive. And I understand,” Tommy watched the stilted way you downed the rest of your wine, setting the empty glass atop the counter with careful movements. “But it would mean a lot to me if you covered this one time.”
With a sigh, you agreed.
Ignoring the weight of Joel’s curious eyes as they followed you out of the kitchen.
Thoughts a whirlwind as you tried to flee the seen without it being obvious that you wanted to be anywhere but in that kitchen with two pairs of apologetic, concerned eyes and one that held curiosity.
next chapter
dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics and @cafekitsune
taglist: @merz-8 @morning-star-joy @joelsgreys @orcasoul @sawymredfox @sabmat @dreamingofleon @keylimebeag @pascalpvnk @picassopedro @tuquoquebrute @alejaa-a @jessthebaker @littlemisspascal @joeloverture @joelscruff @swiftispunk @tightjeansjavi @undercoverpena @idontknowyou-12345 @corazondebeskar @honeyedmiller @novas-dreamworld
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wolfstarhaven · 11 hours
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Hi! I am looking for pining fics where Sirius or Remus are dating/hooking up with other people and the other has to sadly and quietly pine (but they eventually get together).
Especially if it is at hogwarts and maybe the other person sees or hears something they wish they hadn’t? Non-hogwarts also welcome! Love me some pining and miscommunication that gets worked out!
Hi love🌸 Here’s my best try! If I remember correctly, all of the Hogwarts ones include some sort of scene where Sirius walks in on Remus and someone else (;
Hogwarts era:
Befriending A Ravenclaw, by kreestar (55k)
Remus is a Ravenclaw Prefect and Sirius is finding it harder and harder to admit he isn't obsessed with him.
In which Sirius thinks he’s straight (surprise, he’s not), and gets very confused (read: jealous) when Remus gets a boyfriend. Slow burn pining on all sides — it’s bloody wonderful!
Casanova of Gryffindor Tower, by Moonystar_394 (16k)
In sixth year, Sirius Black had two major realizations.
First and foremost, Sirius was utterly, irrevocably and in an almost excruciatingly embarrassing way head over heels for his best friend.
Secondly, his best friend was kind of a slut.
In which everyone’s in love with Remus (as they should be), Remus is oblivious, and Sirius gets veeeery sexually frustrated. I love it!
Falling Into Place, by GreenEyedGoddess (6k)
There's always been something special about Remus Lupin, even if it's taken Sirius Black until his seventh year to realize it. Too bad he spends so much time agonizing over his changing feelings that he loses his chance. In which Remus acts like an idiot, Marlene is the snarky voice of reason, James is a mother hen, Peter is confused, and Sirius is seriously jealous.
They are so stupid!!! (I love them). In which r and s kiss, but then they completely fail to communicate afterwards. Can they talk to each other? no no no! Instead Remus starts dating Dirk Cresswell (because of a misunderstanding, ofc). Much jealousy and pining ensues.
Just Like Best Friends Do, by MsAlexWP (4k)
After uselessly pining for three years Remus decides, finally, to get Sirius out of his system by shagging as many blokes as he can. It doesn’t go quite as planned.
So much stupidity and miscommunication in one little fic! Jealous!sirius, oblivious!remus, and lots of mutual pining. #clown-to-clown-communication. Also, Remus is really hot (;
Non-hogwarts:
talking over cigarettes and drinking coffee, by beep348 (20k)
Remus and Sirius are in the same literature seminar at university and while Remus is great at reading books he is very bad at reading people.
Ok so this is a muggle!au and I know I’ve recced this before. But it’s so good so here we go again! If you haven’t read this already, you definitely should!!! In which Remus is under the impression that Sirius is dating Mary. Things get complicated. Misunderstanding deluxe! It’s so so so lovely and well-written! Lots of pining and jealousy, a beautiful slow burn (for 20k).
xx Elliot
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miakate-writes · 17 hours
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Can you please do mutual pining/obviously-in-love-but-both-are-too-shy-to-say-it? Literally the blood in my veins 😭
Mutual pining romance prompts! 🌸🎀
spending ALL their time together
physical contact whenever possible
like they will literal start blushing and stuttering over the brush of a hand
never seen apart
people are always asking them things like “where is A?” “why aren’t you with B?”
and they never get sick of it
if the other person’s name is bought up in a conversation, you best believe they are listening STRAIGHT AWAY
what did they do? what did they say? who were they with? did they have fun?
they wanna know it all because this is half of the information they can get about them due to being to shy to pester for info ALL the time so they have to depend on other ppl 🥺
[a/n: tysm for this request, i’m getting to requests as soon as i can, still getting out of burnout and i’ve got exams this week so bear with me 🫶🏻 if you have any requests then pop them in my asks! you’re always welcome here 🎀]
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bloody-bee-tea · 1 day
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IntiMarch 2024 Day 18 - Drop it
The prompt for this was "Why don't you come here for a second?"
Satoru lets out a weary sigh when he steps into Suguru’s room. He’s been out on a mission all day—without Suguru because they are being split up more often recently—and he’s so ready for today to be over.
The mission wasn’t particularly hard, but the curse was a slippery one and Yaga had made it clear that Satoru wasn’t just allowed to level the entire area to get this done more quickly.
And like the good student Satoru is he had listened but that only allowed the curse to evade him again and again. It took Satoru the better part of the day to finally exorcise that stupid curse and now he’s about ready to crash.
“Welcome back,” Suguru greets him, a warm smile on his face and Satoru goes hot all over when he realises that Suguru expected him already.
Shoko would say something about how they are unnecessary close—you could be conjoined twins, were her exact words—but it’s just like Satoru likes it.
“I’m back,” he says, even though it’s not necessary and with a shake of his shoulders he finally drops Infinity.
He could have done that when he entered the school grounds, but in all honesty, it only ever feels safe to do with Suguru.
Satoru is still watching Suguru, so he sees how his warm and welcoming smile falters for the briefest of moments, before he fixes it back into place. Normally, Satoru wouldn’t even notice something like that but he notices everything that has to do with Suguru, so it doesn’t escape his notice.
“You okay?” he asks, because how else is he going to get an answer but Suguru only continues to smile at him.
It doesn’t even seem forced.
“Of course I am. Do you need to take a shower or are you ready to crash?”
“I’m ready to do whatever you want,” Satoru gives back because he doesn’t care as long as it’s with Suguru.
“I was about to watch a movie.”
“Great, I’m game,” Satoru decides, even though he should probably get some food first, but Suguru is right there on the couch and it’s so much more tempting to simply plop down next to him and then burrow into his side.
“Did everything go okay?” Suguru asks, slinging his arm around Satoru and pulling him tightly towards himself.
“Of course it did, who do you think you’re talking to?” Satoru huffs out and then his eyes fall on a bowl of food on the table. “Is that for me?”
“Take an educated guess,” Suguru teases him and leans forward to get the bowl, dropping it in Satoru’s waiting hands. “I already ate.”
“You’re the best,” Satoru breathes out and he means it, because this is not store-bought food, but something Suguru must have prepared himself.
“And don’t you forget it,” Suguru gives back and pats Satoru’s head before he clicks play on the remote and they fall silent.
It’s the perfect ending to a draining day and yet Satoru can’t shake the minute wobbling of Suguru’s smile.
~*~*~
It keeps happening. It’s never for long enough that Satoru can reasonably bring it up, but whenever he meets Suguru and drops Infinity, Suguru’s smile falters.
And there’s only one person he can talk to about it.
“Shoko!” he whines out as he steps foot into her office.
“Please don’t,” she gives back without even looking at him. “Can’t you pester Geto?”
“I’m here because I can’t,” Satoru laments and drapes himself over her desk. “Because he hates me.”
“Oh, now this changes things,” Shoko immediately says and gives him her full attention. “This promises to be fun. Go on.”
“You’re being mean.”
“And you’re not telling me what insane things you are thinking. Geto, hating you? I’d rather believe that Yaga is secretly a human-turned curse than that, so you better explain yourself otherwise I can’t laugh at you."
“I don’t want to believe it either,” Satoru grumbles, “but he does hate me. Or, well, he hates it when I touch him.”
“We are talking about Geto Suguru, yes?” Shoko asks to clarify. “The guy who tolerates you hanging off him at all possible times, the guy who once complaint that you hadn’t touched him for two days when you were gone on a mission. That guy?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, I’ll bite. Why would you think that?”
“Because,” Satoru whines out. “He always—I always drop Infinity when I spend time with him and every time I do that, his smile falters. He greets me with the warmest smile ever and then I drop my technique and it just—it’s hard to explain,” he whispers and thinks for a moment. “Suguru always seems disappointed when I drop Infinity.”
It hurts to admit it, but maybe Shoko can help. Satoru is not quite brave enough to bring it up with Suguru himself, because what if he tells him outright that he hates being touched by him, but it’s getting to a point where Satoru doesn’t even want to go to Suguru anymore, if only so he doesn’t have to see his disappointment.
And that hurts, too.
“That—seems wrong,” Shoko lowly says and frowns at him. “He seems disappointed?”
“Yes, Shoko, disappointed. As if he doesn’t want me to drop Infinity but he’s too polite to bring it up with me.”
“Is he though?” Shoko asks. “Too polite to bring things up with you? He always tells you nothing but the truth and he’s not even kind about it. You really think he’d just take being touched by you—or anyone really—if he doesn’t want to be?”
“I—” Satoru starts but he doesn’t know how to finish that.
It’s true, after all. Suguru is not shy to give his honest opinion or thoughts and he told Satoru more than once that he’s insane, or stupid, or downright wrong and he never once hesitated to do that. So if he really doesn’t want to be touched by Satoru, then he should have no problem telling him that.
“So why doesn’t he say something?”
“Maybe because you’re wrong?”
“But what else could it be?”
“Do I look like Geto to you? Or like a mind-reader?” Shoko wants to know. “Go ask him yourself if it bothers you so much.”
Satoru sticks his tongue out at her, because even though she’s right, it’s really not what Satoru wants to hear.
He specifically came here so he wouldn’t have to talk to Suguru about this.
“You’re a real help, thank you,” he sarcastically says and Shoko gives him her biggest faked grin.
“Always happy to help,” he sweetly gives back and it sounds so wrong that it actually makes a shudder run down Satoru’s back.
“Wonderful,” he mutters as he walks away from her office and he decides to rip the band-aid off immediately.
He’ll go to Suguru’s, get him to admit that he actually hates being touched by Satoru—and that he hates him as well—and then he can wallow in peace and he doesn’t have to wonder about this ever again.
It sounds like a good plan, he tries to lie to himself and swiftly makes his way over to Suguru’s room.
Suguru is on the bed, reading a book but he instantly looks over when Satoru steps into his room and when a smile flits over his face, Satoru’s heart beats faster.
Fuck, he’s going to miss this.
“Listen—” Satoru starts but he doesn’t get very far, because Suguru sits up, his book forgotten and a look of worry on his face.
“Are you okay? Is everything okay?” he demands to know and he seems ready to throw hands with whoever Satoru will name as the culprit for something he doesn’t even understand.
“Huh?” he very intelligently asks and Suguru gets up.
“Are you hurt? Did something get to you?” he asks and he walks up to Satoru, holding his hands out as if he wants to check Satoru over personally, but he stops before he makes contact and pulls his hands back.
“Are you mad at me?” he then asks, his voice suddenly small and he sounds almost hurt.
“Why would I be?” Satoru is too confused to even manage one coherent thought because he didn’t expect this to go like this at all.
He just wanted to know what Suguru has against being touched by him and now Suguru thinks something is wrong with Satoru? Satoru really doesn’t understand how they got here.
“You still have Infinity on,” Suguru mutters, his hands still tightly clasped behind his back and Satoru fights the urge to drop Infinity immediately.
He can’t. Not if Suguru doesn’t like it, though his reaction right now is confusing Satoru even more.
“But—don’t you hate it when I drop it?” he asks and the confusion must be audible in his voice because Suguru blinks at him before he goes red in the face.
“Ah, fuck, you noticed,” he whispers, more to himself than to Satoru and still, Satoru’s heart drops straight to the floor.
So Suguru does hate him, then.
Wonderful.
“I did. I—that’s all I wanted to know, actually, so,” he points over his shoulder at the door, hoping that he doesn’t sound as hurt as he feels. “I’ll be going then.”
“Wait,” Suguru says, his hand shooting out as if he wants to stop Satoru, though of course he can’t make contact, not with Infinity still on.
“Don’t, that’s not—I don’t hate you,” he says, because of course he looked right through Satoru. “Let me explain.”
He takes his hand back before he walks over to the bed, sitting down, propped up against the headboard before he pats the space next to him.
“Why don’t you come here for a second?” he asks Satoru, who still stands in the middle of the room, unsure if he’s even still welcome here.
“So you can tell me you hate me better?”
“So I can explain,” Suguru patiently corrects him and Satoru takes a step towards the bed.
He does want an explanation. He does not want to sit besides Suguru with Infinity separating them.
“Infinity on or off?” he forces himself to ask and the hurt feeling in his chest smooths over the tiniest bit when Suguru smiles softly at him.
“Off, of course,” he replies as if it’s the most normal thing to say and yet Satoru still hesitates a moment before he drops Infinity.
“Thank you,” Suguru whispers and pats the bed again. “Now come here.”
Satoru does as he’s told, carefully settling next to Suguru and prepared to still keep a bit of distance between them, but Suguru doesn’t even give him a chance, because as soon as he is in reach, Suguru pulls him close, tucks him right into his side and rests his temple against the crown of Satoru’s head.
Satoru’s heart feels as if it’s going to beat right out of his chest, and Suguru’s proximity is only half of the reason. Mostly, Satoru is just confused.
“I don’t understand,” he admits and Suguru chuckles slightly.
“Yeah, I bet,” he teases and before Satoru can go off at him for being deliberately mean, he sighs. “That’s my fault. I apologise.”
“Okay,” Satoru accepts and he’s already trying to convince himself to be content with that, to just accept that Suguru might want to be touched by him still, with no further explanation for his strange behaviour when Suguru goes on.
“You’re always beautiful,” Suguru starts with and Satoru jolts at his words. “But when you have your technique activated your eyes glow almost eerily but it just makes you incredibly stunning.” He takes a deep breath while Satoru feels as if he’s stopped breathing all together. “I’m just disappointed when you come here and drop Infinity because then I don’t get to see that. And don’t get me wrong; I love the fact that you feel safe enough around me to drop Infinity, that you allow yourself to be touched by me. That’s not even a question. It’s—confusing, I know.”
It’s not more confusing than what Satoru came up with as an explanation over the last few days, so he lets out a relieved breath.
“You’re such an idiot,” Satoru tells him and moves away from Suguru so he can look him in the face.
Suguru’s hand slides down Satoru’s arm, coming to a stop at his elbow and that’s not good enough, that’s not at all good enough, Satoru decides, and simply takes Suguru’s hand in his, threading their fingers together, all without taking his eyes off Suguru.
And then he activates Infinity.
Suguru jerks in surprise, moves as if he’s expecting his hand to be repelled but when nothing happens, confusion settles over his face.
“What is going on?” he breathes out, reaching up with his other hand to cup Satoru’s cheek in it.
“I can decide who gets through,” Satoru says and then winces. “Actually, I can’t. It’s just—you don’t register for it, not anymore. I don’t know when it happened, but Infinity will never keep you from touching me.”
“So I could have both,” Suguru whispers in awe.
“You can have both,” Satoru agrees with a nod and slightly turns his head so he can press a kiss to Suguru’s palm. “Good?”
“You’re amazing,” Suguru says with a huge smile and now it’s Satoru’s turn to go red in the face.
“Shut up,” he grumbles, which only makes Suguru laugh before he leans in and nuzzles the side of Satoru’s face.
“Now turn it off again,” he whispers and with a shudder, Satoru does as he’s being told.
“Why? I thought you liked seeing my eyes like that,” he gives back, almost petulantly and Suguru nods.
“I do. I like the fact that you don’t feel the need to have it on at all when you’re with me even more. I want you to be able to rest.”
“I do. I can heal myself, so it’s taken care of.”
“I don’t want you to have to heal yourself when you’re with me. I want you to be able to fully rest, to completely let go and not worry about a thing.”
“You just said you like my stunning eyes,” Satoru whines out and a shiver runs down his back when Suguru laughs, low and deep.
“I also said you’re always beautiful,” he corrects and Satoru rolls his eyes.
“Fine. No technique when I’m with you.”
“Maybe don’t drop it immediately when you come in. Maybe wait until the first kiss to do it.”
“The first, huh? How many are you getting in this scenario?” Satoru wants to know but he’s dying to kiss Suguru right now and then keep doing it until they both fall asleep.
“As many as you want to give me,” Suguru replies and finally moves away so that Satoru has enough space to start with it right now.
And he’s definitely not going to stop any time soon.
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rainbowpopeworld · 4 months
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ivynightshade · 3 months
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fatima aamer bilal, from coffin heart? bury me.
[text id: how did you get so close that i have to dissect you out from under my skin? / memory is a deathbed. remembrance is a grave. the memory of you is a scab that i keep picking so that it scars. a burn, a souvenir, something to claw at that claws back at me. / i refuse to be haunted by something less. / there's a sun-sized ache where your hands used to be. / and now that your place is empty, the blood in my heart pumps around nothing. / nothing. / nothing at all. / senseless circulation. / what am i to live for when i have made my body my casket? / where am i to go from here? / and i always knew longing had another name she wouldn't let me call her by — it's hunger. / my heart grew up to be far more starved than my stomach. / it's the things you learn in your childhood, from the words of your mother, from the hands of your father. / if your teeth do not graze my bones, i do not wish for you to kiss me. / how have i turned gentle love into such devastation? / such greediness? / i carry a coffin for a heart; everything i love must be buried. / plant your garden in the cracks of my skin—mud, gravel, everything. let my blood be water to cater to your needs. / terrible, terrible human, thinks barbarity and love are words of the same meaning. / a mad dog would be a far more gentle lover to the rocks being thrown at him. / and, my dear, i wouldn't ask you to fold me in the pages of your favorite book, just the embedment of fingers between my ribs. / how did you get so close that i have to dissect you out from under my skin? / GET CLOSER.]
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2jihiir0 · 10 months
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very late to the party but happy #steddieweek2023 !!
Day 1 : pining 💗💦
“🎶give me somebody to love🎵”
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lover-suggest · 2 months
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i wouldn’t change a single thing about you. every part of you was made for me to love
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improper-use-of-germx · 3 months
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What if the monster under your bed just wanted to hang out with you? They twist and bend their body until they can hide themselves away, waiting patiently, unseen while you go about your normal life.
They like to listen to you. The music you play, the creak of the floorboards beneath each step, the almost indiscernible sound of you typing on a little screen. They especially liked listening to you as you lay in your bed above them, so close they felt every breath you took as if it were their own.
But their favorite part of the routine was after your breathing slowed, when the night was at its darkest and they could finally uncurl from their hiding place and stand to their full height. Well, almost. Your ceiling was a little too low and they had to stoop their head a bit, but they didn't mind bowing to you, sprawled out in your nest of blankets and pillows and other soft things. Their precious human friend, what wouldn't they do for you?
Sometimes they are content to just watch. When they think you seem tired today, and can't bear to possibly ever disrupt your few hours of rest, they stand over your sleeping form and stare until morning light forces them away again. They keep track of your heart rate, the way your eyes move under their lids while you dream, how often you toss and turn.
When they feel themselves get overwhelmed looking at you, they allow themself a little more. Sometimes they sit on the edge of your bed, letting their full weight dip the mattress towards them. They feel the heat from your body seep into the sheets and travel slowly to them, like water through a paper towel. Maybe one day they'll get closer, try to feel you non-vicariously. But for now, they're so happy just to be this close. They don't want to lose you yet.
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doloriads · 6 months
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In the end, I’d do it all again. You’re my best friend.
unknown, coffeepeople on tumblr, ribs / lorde, mid90’s (2017), us against you / fredrik backman, war of the foxes / richard siken, radio silence / alice oseman, the morning star / anne carson, my friend / hayley williams
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dumplingsjinson · 1 year
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List of “unrequited love but turns out!! it’s actually requited” prompts
“What, did you think I kissed you all these times because I was doing it for the shits and giggles?” “…Let’s be real, you did have a lot of fun shoving your tongue down my throat in public.”
“Oh my God, why are you crying? Does me liking you disgust you that much?” “No, you dumbass, it’s because you like me back but I spent all of this time thinking you’d never like me that way!”
“Look, we can pretend I never confessed if it means you’ll stay—” “What?! No! You can’t just take back your confession! That’s such a coward move and I’ll not allow that! Especially when I feel the same way towards you.” 
“I’ll get over you. I promise. These feelings, they’re— they’re only temporary, I swear. I—I’ll get over you. Just please don’t leave me—” “Did you ever think, that maybe, I don’t want you getting over me? What if I don’t want these feelings to be only temporary? That maybe I... Like you, too?”
“I didn’t mean to fall for you.” “And neither did I.” “…Fucking pardon?” 
“So according to _____, you’re in love with me, too?” “Oh, that fucking bast— wait, did you just say too?” 
“You need to stop kissing me like you mean it; I’m going to read into things wrong and end up breaking my own heart.” “That’s because I do mean it every single time. You’ve just been too dense to realise.” 
“Why are you apologising for liking me back?” “Because I don’t want to ruin— wait a second. Pause and rewind, what did you just say?” 
“You don’t have to like me back, you know? I just wanted to let you know how I felt, that’s all.” “Well, too bad! Because these feelings are mutual, and now you can’t get rid of me.”
“Why are you lying to me? You can tell me the truth, it’s okay. I’m strong enough for the truth, I swear.” “What? I’m not lying to you! You’d think you’d pick up on the signs that I’ve been in love with you, for fucking forever, but apparently someone’s too obtuse to realise that!” 
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mixsethaddams · 4 months
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Steddie fic that was originally a twitter thread. Hurt/comfort, light angst, pining Steve, happy ending, roughly 6.5k words. Enjoy!
Look. It wasn’t like Steve was jealous, ok? Envious of the situation, maybe. But not jealous of the person. He was still burnt by Nancy rejecting him for Jonathan again. That was all.
After Vecna, he’d thrown himself into caring for everyone else just like always. Visited Max every day and helped her get used to her wheelchair. Drove Lucas to see her. Drove Robin to meet Vicky. He even helped Eddie and Wayne move into their new house.
Steve liked spending time around Eddie and his uncle. It was the type of family unit he never thought actually existed. He couldn’t fathom living somewhere so cramped and not tearing each other apart. He liked being alone with Eddie in the yard for a quick smoke, too.
Steve was kind of disappointed when there was no reason to spend time with them after they were all moved in. He told himself it was just because he didn’t have much else to occupy his time once Max came back home and Robin got her driving license.
The few times Steve did catch a passing glance at Eddie after he’d pick Dustin up from a D&D session, he had to fight against the urge to come up with an excuse to stay. He just… he was sure hanging out with Eddie would help ease the loneliness that he felt. That’s all.
So when the kids suggested a party at the end of the summer before going back to school, Steve thought it would be the perfect excuse to get some quality time in Eddie’s orbit. It wasn’t like he wanted them to be best friends or anything, just closer than they were.
They were probably too different to ever really get along in any meaningful way, but still. Steve still wanted to be near him. A male friend his own age, right? Is that so bad? He hadn’t had one since Tommy. He missed the specific type of camaraderie that came with it.
Steve was delighted when Eddie sat beside him in his kitchen on the day of the party. Their elbows knocked while they spoke to each other and those around them. They laughed and whispered behind their hands at the kids. It was perfect.
Well. At least until Steve had to excuse himself to make a phone call. Only… that was a lie. Because Steve was sitting on the floor of his bathroom with tears streaming down his face and a tightness in his chest he hadn’t ever felt before.
Everything had been going so well... Until the doorbell rang and Eddie jumped up to answer it, leaving Steve halfway through a sentence. When Eddie came back, smile so wide his eyes were practically crinkled shut, he introduced the whole group to his new girlfriend.
It was easy for Steve to pass it off as a bad call with his parents when Robin came looking for him twenty minutes later. He told her he’d be fine, but had a headache now and was ducking out early. Not the first time it happened so it was easy to believe.
Steve curled up on his bed while the party wound down downstairs. He found himself simultaneously straining to hear Eddie’s voice, and flinching when he heard that unfamiliar high pitched laugh. Her laugh.
It sounded like everyone liked her. There was no awkward silences and her voice was wound right into the cracks of every conversation. Steve clamped his hands over his ears when he finally couldn’t take it anymore. He was happy for Eddie. He was!
He just missed that New Relationship phase. It wasn’t like Steve couldn’t go out and get laid any time he wanted. He could. He did. He just always ended up wishing he was hanging out with Eddie instead after leaving them back at their houses.
Steve sniffled and shook his head roughly against his pillow. He was being selfish. He knew that. His chance to have a closer friendship with Eddie was ruined by some girl. Vague memories of high school name calling wormed their way back into Steve’s brain.
It was a bitter thought, to think how much Tommy Hagan would be surprised by Eddie having a real life girlfriend and not just someone that everyone was sure he’d made up. Steve half thought about calling his old friend to crack some jokes about it, make a little fun.
It only made the hollow feeling inside him grow to think like that. He felt silly, really. Getting so upset over a person who still thought of him as a high school bully dating someone. Steve fell asleep as the sun rose, hours after everyone went home.
They went everywhere together. But that’s what couples did, wasn’t it? They spent time together. Steve just kind of wished Eddie didn’t have to bring her, Sara, along with him every time he came to Family Video.
Steve felt himself getting almost angry whenever they walked through the door, holding hands and cooing over each other. He’d find a way to busy himself to avoid dealing with them and a couple of times even point blank ignored them.
The day he caught them kissing in the store was not his finest hour. He snapped that it was the middle of a Saturday afternoon and to get the fuck out, don’t do that shit when there’s kids around. Eddie looked confused, almost hurt.
He muttered something about kissing not being illegal while he pulled Sara out of the store behind him. She was sheepishly giggling and Steve wanted to yell at her to fuck off again. People getting boyfriends or girlfriends never bothered him this much before.
Robin finally getting with Vickie never made him jealous. Dustin and Suzie, Will and Mike, none of them. He sighed and ran a hand over his face.
“What is wrong with you?” asked Robin, appearing behind him. “Since when do you throw people out for kissing?”
“I just don’t need to see it,” said Steve. He turned to grab a pile of tapes to restock.
“Are you jealous?” teased Robin.
“No,” snapped Steve, louder than he intended. Robin stood in silent shock. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I just… I miss that, I guess,”
Robin eyed him carefully.
“You miss what, exactly?” she asked. “Eddie? I didn’t know you guys were close,”
“No, not…” Steve sighed again. “I just don’t like friends ditching us for someone they barely know. That’s all,”
Robin pursed her lips.
She knew as well as Steve did that was almost the opposite of what Eddie was doing. He brought Sara along to get-togethers, and invited everyone to join them when they went to Indy for the day, or to the quarry to swim. Everyone else had welcomed her warmly.
Because she was nice. And isn’t that just the fucking worst? Steve tried his hardest to deny it to himself but she was a sweetheart. It was no wonder they all loved her. A stone settled in his stomach when he thought that Eddie might actually love her too.
No one fought back too hard against Steve when he kept skipping out on spending time with everyone. His mood lately had been enough to make them almost glad that the dark cloud wouldn’t be joining them. He preferred to sit and stew by himself anyway.
He’d hang out with Robin like normal but even she was starting to run out of ways to avoid talking about Eddie. Because people had noticed. They’d have to be blind not to. It was painfully obvious that whenever Eddie (and Sara) was mentioned, Steve soured.
Steve couldn’t even blame everyone else for finding it awkward. Eddie was their friend and they wanted to be around him. That’s all Steve wanted too! They were on the same side here! Once or twice he felt like throwing a tantrum and reminding them HE was there first.
Especially Robin and Dustin. Whenever he was feeling particularly sore about his failure of an attempt to build a closer relationship with Eddie, he wondered why they had managed to get what he wanted.
It wasn’t like there was anything wrong with him. He used to be the most popular guy in school! He had charm! It should have been so easy to get Eddie to want to be around him too. Steve often found himself wishing Eddie was next to him watching tv at home.
Just a subtle thing. He’d hear a joke on some sitcom and wonder if Eddie would find it funny. Or if the latest song on the radio would make him nod his head. Steve thought back to one of the days he helped Eddie and Wayne move into their house.
There was a song playing downstairs while they hung blinds in his room. Steve couldn’t remember the song or the tune, but he could tell you exactly which one of the freckles on Eddie’s nose were covered with tiny paint splashes. All he could remember was Eddie.
And see, Steve’s not an idiot. He knows, okay? He’s known ever since Sara turned up in his fucking kitchen and he felt like Eddie’s smile was sharp enough to slit his throat. He fought it from the start. Told himself again and again that it was nothing. It’d pass.
Throwing them out of the store was all Steve needed to admit to himself that maybe a closer friendship wasn’t all he’d been hoping for, when he lay awake at night wondering what would happen if he just drove on over there. He liked to drift to sleep thinking about it.
Robin caught on quick. She wasn’t dumb either, you see. She was able to see the way Steve’s brows turned down a split second before furrowing when the happy couple came into the store on a friday night. She never mentioned it, but Steve knew she knew.
It wasn’t until well into the winter that Steve actually saw Eddie without Sara attached to his hip. He came through the door while Steve and Robin were preparing to close up the store for the night, rapping his knuckles on the counter to get their attention.
Robin shot Steve a careful look before greeting him and asking what movie he wanted.
“Nah not tonight,” Steve heard him tell her from where he’d turned his back to rewind tapes.
“Just here for a visit?” asked Robin.
“I’m on my way to give Sara a ride home from work,”
Steve’s stomach clenched at the mention of her name.
“I’m actually here to invite you guys out somewhere, week after next one,” said Eddie. “A party, kind of,”
“Oh yeah?” asked Robin brightly. Steve knew she loved parties. “What’s the occasion?”
“Well,” said Eddie with a long breath. “Sara’s got some family up in Michigan, and her cousin offered her a job running the place she owns,” Steve had stopped moving. Please. Please no. “And it’s too good to turn down soooo,”
Eddie cleared his throat.
“I’m throwing a going away party,” finished Eddie.
“For Sara?” said Robin. “Oh that’s so sweet,”
Steve could tell Robin was still a half step behind. He squeezed his eyes shut as hard as he could. Please, not this….
Eddie let out a small laugh, he sounded almost nervous.
“Actually, uh,” Eddie drummed his fingertips on the counter. “For both of us,” Steve opened his eyes and felt his breath shorten as Eddie continued. “I’m going with her,”
Steve, back still turned, gripped the vhs case in his hand so hard he could feel the edges about to crack.
“Wait, you’re…” Robin stuttered. “What?”
“I’m going with her,” repeated Eddie. “To Michigan. She asked me to come last weekend,”
“She says there’s some metal bars I can try find work in,” explained Eddie. Steve could hear the edge of excitement in his voice. “And maybe I’ll join a new band up there too, who knows,”
“Your band!” exclaimed Robin. “Oh god, what are they going to do without you?”
“They’ll figure it out,” said Eddie. Steve could practically hear him shrugging. “Better off without my reputation holding them back anyway,”
Steve focused on keeping his breathing steady. He picked up another tape, hoping his shaking hands weren’t too obvious.
“This is…” Robin started. “Eddie are you sure about this?”
“What?” he asked. “Yeah! I mean this is the fresh start I wanted and Saras great. All I can think about is how she wants me there, no-one wants me anywhere,”
Steve held back the scoff that built in his throat
“And I’m happy for you,” said Robin. “We all are-" She reached back and placed a hand on Steve’s back, which he subtly shook by moving sideways. “-but isn’t this a little, I don’t know, soon? You’ve only been together a couple months,”
Eddie was quiet for a beat.
“This is something I’ve dreamed about, this chance,” said Eddie flatly. “New life, great girl. Whats your issue?”
“Eddie its not that easy to-“
“Buckley?” Eddie cut her off quickly. “Either be supportive or don’t okay? I already got this lecture from Wayne”
“I just-“
“I really don’t need to hear it from anyone else” said Eddie. “Am I putting your name on the guestlist or not?”
Robin sighed.
“Yeah, yeah I’ll be there,” she said. “Vickie too,”
“Great!” said Eddie, instantly brighter, a sharp edge to it now. “Harrington? You too?”
Steve spoke over his shoulder.
“Working that night,” he said simply. “Can’t,”
“Seriously?” said Eddie. “You don’t even know what night it’s on!"
“Yeah well,” said Steve, finally turning around to look Eddie in the eye. “It’s probably a safe bet so, count me out,”
“I don’t get you, man,” mumbled Eddie, looking him up and down. Steve shrugged and turned his head to watch the lone customer browsing through the aisles.
“Enjoy the party,” said Steve simply.
“Whatever,” said Eddie, pushing off the counter and going out the door.
“Steve…” said Robin gently.
“Don’t.” He warned.
“Are you really not going?” she asked.
“I can’t watch that,” he told her. The customer waved him over. Before he went to them, he looked to Robin again. “Don’t try to make me,” he said.
She just nodded.
Steve stuck to his word and didn’t go to the party. He had started to get angry about everything, truth be told. He felt a flare in his stomach when he thought about why he had to fall for someone who not only didn’t like him back, but was leaving the state too.
It didn’t seem fair. All Steve wanted in life was someone to love, but everytime he tried to open himself up to it, he got knocked back. He browsed a magazine in the gas station that gave the advice “get over them by getting under someone else” in large bold letters.
So thats what he’d been doing. Steve had called up every girl he knew with a pretty smile and spent every single night, getting over Eddie. It was easy to lie to himself and pretend it was working.
Whenever any of the kids came by the store to rent a movie, Steve pretended to be busier than he was to avoid them. They all had stories about Eddie, reminiscing about good times and getting sad in the run up to his leaving date. Steve didn’t need to hear it.
One night, a quiet Saturday right before closing, Steve counted to 10 and asked Robin how the party went. Her smile was tight.
“It was fun,” she said gently.
“And…” Steve took a deep breath. “Eddie had a good time?”
Robin’s eyes were soft.
“He did,” she told Steve. “Sara bought him a new guitar, as a surprise,”
Steve swallowed hard and looked away. The flare of anger tried to brush through his ribcage again. Instead it felt weak, too drowned out by the heavy feeling behind his eyes.
“Does he love her?”
Robin chewed the inside of her cheek as she considered Steve’s question.
“He’s following her to another state,” she said after a moment. “That must mean something,”
Steve nodded.
“Yeah,” he whispered. “Guess it does,”
*
"Come on, it'll be fun, it's only for two nights and it'll take your mind off everything,"
Robin was trying to convince Steve to join the other older members of the party for a weekend in some cabins in a national park in Tennessee.
Argyle's family owned them and, as a Thank You for welcoming him into their little group, had promised them free use of them whenever they wanted. Nancy would be going overseas to study for six months after New Years, so it was a kind of send off for her.
It was well into December now though, and Steve didn't feel like freezing his balls off alone in a cabin. He hadn't seen Eddie's van around for a little while, but there had been a small ad in the classifieds from Sara's family wishing her luck with her new life.
That was really all Steve needed to tell him that they were gone. Eddie was gone. A few days of peace and quiet wouldn't be the worst thing to clear his head. Well. That, and Argyle's guaranteed van full of weed.
As if to read his mind, Robin spoke up again.
"They're got these huge wood fires in the cabins, and me and you will have a whole one to ourselves," she said. "And no kids! We can have some drinks and just relax. Please, Steve?"
Steve eyed her carefully.
"I don't know, Rob," said Steve, sighing. "Argyle will have tons of room in his van for you, and he'll bunk with you if you don't want to be alone,"
"But! But!" Her eyes were wide.
Steve smirked.
"Tell me the truth and I'll say yes," he said, teasing.
"What?" she tried hard to look confused, bless her.
"Tell me that this has nothing to do with wanting to comfort Nancy," dared Steve, the corner of his mouth quirking up.
Robin balked.
"Thats...! That's not...!" she stammered.
Nancy and Jon's break up had been kept quiet. None of the kids knew yet. They agreed that another stint of long distance would be too much for them, so they parted ways. It was clean, easy. It made Steve sad in his own way.
Robin and Vickie's breakup was less easy. She decided that Steve and Robin's friendship was something she couldn't be comfortable with. Robin had no choice but to understand, and Vickie had no choice but to walk away when Robin chose Steve over her.
Steve laughed.
"It's okay, Rob," said Steve. "I just don't get why you need me there for it,"
Robin finally gave up the act.
"So you can be my getaway driver if it doesn't go well," she said like it was obvious.
Steve laughed again.
"Alright fine," said Steve. "But...even if it goes well, she's still leaving,"
"I know," sighed Robin. "I just... I just feel like I have to try, you know? I don't want to be too late," Steve wished he could be so optimistic. Even a day apart would kill him, nevermind six months.
"Is that crazy?" asked Robin. "To want to do this and then wait for her?"
"No," mused Steve. "Just don't hop on a plane and follow her. That would be crazy,"
Robin laughed. "Well if Eddie is following Sara-"
Her eyes went wide. Robin clamped a hand over her mouth as Steve's chest constricted.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't-"
Steve held his hand up.
"It's fine," he lied. "When's the trip again? Gotta get gas, and food, you know?"
"Steve I-"
"When, Rob?"
Steve's stomach was lurching violently, caught off guard by the mention of his name. And hers. He rubbed the back of his hand over his forehead.
"Um, this weekend," said Robin quietly. "We'll need to leave Friday morning,"
"Ok," nodded Steve. "I'll be there,"
The drive was better than Steve expected. Robin was a good passenger. She could read a map and always had the snacks ready to hand him. Steve had never been to this part of Tennessee before, so he was happy when Robin directed him onto the final dirt trail.
Robin spotted it before he did, parked right between two of the three cabins.
"Oh," she gasped. "Steve, I...I didn't know, I swear, you have to believe me,"
"What?" mumbled Steve, looking at her before following her gaze.
Steve took a second before he realised what he was looking at.
"I didn't know," Robin repeated quietly.
Steve gripped the steering wheel hard. There was no mistaking it. Right there, loud and proud.
Eddie's van.
Steve slid out of the driver’s seat carefully. Argyle came towards them with wide arms and a wider smile.
“Welcome, Brochaco and Brochacette!” he said brightly. “Who wants to learn all about the wonders of the safe keeping of your woodland abode?”
Robin stepped forward and Argyle directed her to the middle cabin. Steve was glad, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to focus. His eyes were already darting around, trying to spot Eddie. Hoping he didn’t see Sara instead. Nancy ran towards him.
“Steve!” She yelled happily.
“I’m glad you came,” she said, hugging him.
Steve almost didn’t hear her. Over her shoulder he saw him. Sitting on a low camping chair around a small firepit, chatting quietly with Jonathan, was Eddie.
“Come say hi!” She pulled him by the arm towards the others.
Steve rapidly counted the chairs around the fire. Six. If anyone had brought a…plus one…there’d be seven. Or maybe they hadn’t expected Steve to join and the empty chair next to Eddie did have an owner?
“Hey man,” said Jonathan. “Sit, fire’s great,”
Steve considered the chairs again. Eddie hadn’t even looked up to great him, instead keeping his gaze on the fire. Nancy wandered towards the cooler to unearth a bottle of white wine, while Jonathan left in search of a lighter.
“She’s not here, just sit down,” said Eddie cooly.
Steve looked at Eddie with wide eyes. He still wasn’t looking up, but his jaw was set and his hand gripped the neck of his beer bottle tightly. Steve sat down in the chair next to Eddie feeling like a scolded pupil.
“How, uh,” started Steve. “How come?”
Eddie puffed a sarcastic laugh into his bottle as he raised it for a swig.
“You don’t care,” he said.
Steve couldn’t defend himself. Eddie was right, he didn’t care. Robin and Argyle returned, all knowledge of safely lighting the indoor stove passed on.
“Glad you’re here, my guy,” said Argyle, sitting down and leaning over to fist bump Steve. “Figured you might like a chance to be with the whole gang again, now that the Ed Man swung back for a visit,”
“Yeah, this is great,” said Steve, only mildly grinding his teeth.
Steve knew the chill down his spine had nothing to do with the chill of the late afternoon. He was trembling in Eddie’s presence, with half a mind to just jump in his car and peel out of there. Robin would understand, he was sure of it.
Truly, Steve didn’t know if he was happy or sad to see him. His stomach churned everytime Eddie spoke in conversation, as everyone’s voice got louder as the day grew darker and the beers flowed faster. At the same time, he could barely turn his head to look at him.
It was like he didn’t feel like he had permission to look at him. He belonged to someone else and Steve had made himself clear; he wanted nothing to do with it. The night was cool around them when groups broke off.
Nancy and Robin where huddled together, having pulled their chairs close and covered themselves with a blanket. Jon and Argyle where leaning back and looking at the stars, softly speaking through private smiles. Eddie and Steve were quiet.
Steve had picked the label entirely off his bottle and rubbed the remaining glue until it was smooth. Once or twice he thought he heard Eddie inhale in a way that would signal the start of a sentence, but nothing ever came. Eventually, Steve got up and walked away
He didn’t go far, just around the back of the cabins. It was lit nicely by the moon and he could see into the woodland around them. It was peaceful, and he felt his chest loosen slightly now that he was further away from Eddie.
Steve took a cigarette out of his pocket and fumbled for a lighter before realising he didn’t have one. Sighing, he leaned down on the fence and watched the darkness between the trees. He knew it should scare him.
After everything they’ve been through, a still and perfect blackness should make his skin twitch, but he just felt a sort of comfort in it. Steve watched a small mouse scurry between some fallen leaves, and wondered if it had somewhere warm nearby to sleep.
A crack of a twig behind him made Steve jump. He turned quickly to see Eddie rounding the corner of the cabin.
“Sorry,” he said flatly. “I’ll find somewhere else,”
“Wait,” said Steve. “You stay, I need to find a lighter anyway,” He waved his unlit cigarette.
Eddie rolled his eyes and approached Steve, lighting his own smoke before handing the lighter to him.
“Thanks,” said Steve, lifting it to his lips. He felt like his chest was about to wring itself inside out with how hard it was squeezing.
Eddie leaned on the fence next to Steve.
“What are you doing here?” asked Eddie after a while.
“Oh, uh?” said Steve. “Just wanted some time alone I guess?”
“Not here,” said Eddie, clicking his tongue. “Here, like, the cabins. You haven’t come anywhere for months,”
Steve swallowed. He didn’t want to say ‘I didn’t think you’d be here’. That would just be rude.
“Robin…” he said. “She asked me to come,”
Eddie hummed.
“How about you?” asked Steve. “I thought you were in Michigan,”
Eddie smoked quietly.
“I was,” he agreed.
“When are you... going back?” asked Steve in spite of himself. He should have been overjoyed to finally have some one on one time with Eddie after pining for it for so long, but he couldn’t let himself enjoy it, knowing it wouldn’t last.
Eddie didn’t answer. Steve took a nervous drag of him smoke and tried something different.
“Will Wayne go see you up there, do you think?” he asked. Eddie rolled his head around on his shoulder.
“No Steve,” he said almost matter-of-factly. “I don’t think he will,”
“Oh,” said Steve. “How, uh, how come?”
Eddie took a deep breath.
“No use going up there if…” Eddie hesitated. “If I’m not there,”
Steve’s brow furrowed.
“What?” He asked. “Why wouldn’t you be there?”
Eddie chewed the inside of his cheek.
“Changed my mind, I guess,” he said with a soft shrug.
Steve was confused.
“I don’t…” he said. “I don’t understand?”
“Me neither,” said Eddie, softening slightly. “Haven’t even told anyone else yet. I drove us up there and I just…” Eddie cleared his throat. “Drove right on back,”
Steve could feel his eyebrows touch at this point.
“But… you were so excited,” said Steve. “It was your fresh start. What…what happened? What do mean you drove back?” asked Steve.
Eddie breathed out heavily.
“It didn’t feel right,” he said. “I think I realised it right after we hit the highway. I was too caught up in it to see that it just wasn’t…right,”
Steve was quiet.
“I got lost in the idea that, I don’t know,” Eddie waved his hand around. “Someone wanted me, and I just kind of went with the flow. Didn’t matter where it was taking me,”
“But, you wanted to leave, right?” asked Steve.
Eddie shrugged again.
“Thought I did,” said Eddie. “But then all I could think about was Wayne being alone and I…wanted to be back in the trailer with him. I wanted Hawkins,”
“So…You’re doing long distance, then?” asked Steve.
Eddie hummed again, pulling a final drag from his smoke.
“Like I said,” said Eddie quietly. “I was too caught up in feeling wanted,”
“Oh…” said Steve. He wanted to comfort Eddie but wasn’t sure how. He didn’t want Eddie to be unhappy and it did sound like he’d had to make a tough decision, with tougher consequences.
“So you’re back in Hawkins again for good?” asked Steve. He didn’t know if he could handle seeing him everywhere again.
“Yeah,” snorted Eddie. “Back again,”
Steve held the burnt filter of his own smoke in his hand.
“Back in a town I have some fucking stupid attachment to,” continued Eddie. “Half the folks still think I’m a killer but hey, here I am,” Eddie let out a tight laugh. “Who wants me now?” asked Eddie into the darkness, offering the rhetorical question to the night.
Steve knew it wasn’t a question that needed an answer. Really, he did. But when Eddie dropped his hand back onto the fence, it was barely an inch away from his. Steve could practically feel Eddie’s body heat coming from it. His breathing got tight.
Steve stared at their hands, so close. Eddie’s words rang in his ears. I want you, he thought. I want you! Steve slowly shifted his hand to the side of his little fingers brushed Eddie’s. Eddie looked down when he felt it. Steve held his breath.
Steve lifted his little finger to rub to softly against Eddie’s.
“Oh…” Eddie whispered.
“Yeah…” Steve whispered back.
Argyle’s voice cut through the night.
“Steve? Eddie? Where are you? Did a bear get you guys? Do they have bears in this state?”
“Shit” muttered Eddie, pulling his hand away like he’d been burnt. He dropped his spent cigarette to the ground and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I…fuck,” he said under his breath.
He didn’t look at Steve as he walked quickly back to the main clearing.
Steve bent forward slightly and rubbed his hands over his face. He felt like such an idiot. What the hell did he expect would happen? What the fuck was he thinking?
Steve stayed behind the cabins a while longer until Argyle’s voice called to him again. He dried his face as best he could, hoping the darkness would hide what he couldn’t. He came back to the fire and assured Argyle he really didn’t have to fight any bears
Steve smiled at how relieved he and Jonathan seemed. Eddie was staring dead into the fire, the fingertips of one hand drumming over his mouth. Steve could barely look at him. He felt so stupid. Steve leaned down and kissed the top of Robin’s head.
“I’m heading to bed,” he told her quietly.
“Huh?” she asked, barely turning away from Nancy. “Oh, yeah, I’ll be in soon too,”
“Sure you will,” Steve teased with a wink.
He announced his departure to the others and got raised bottles from Jon and Argyle.
Eddie didn’t react. Steve didn’t expect him too. He retreated to his cabin, immediately crossing his arms against the cold when he entered. He stood in front of the large stove fire for a second and debated calling Robin in to light it for him.
After a few minutes of thought Steve decided to just brave the cold. He had a hoodie and long sweats he could wear in bed. He’d be fine, and there were enough blankets on the bed to heat him up quickly. Steve slipped into bed and huddled around himself.
Part of him wished he was in more of a mood to appreciate the beautiful bedroom he was in. Lots of plaid and carved furniture, exactly the type of place his parents would insist was dirty and filled with bugs. Steve knew he’d love it though, if he had the chance to.
It wasn’t so a much a decision of if he would drive home early by himself tomorrow, more so when. Robin clearly didn’t need a getaway driver and after that stunt he pulled with Eddie, Steve wasn’t sure how welcome he’d feel come sunrise.
Steve didn’t even know if Eddie would tell anyone. It’s not like the group would care that they were both men, but admitting a crush, or more than a crush, however subtly right after learning about a breakup? Robin was sweet enough to pull it off. Steve, maybe not.
At the very least, it felt like some sort of ending. Eddie’s reaction had been a definite Full Stop to any idea Steve might have had about his feelings being returned. He wasn’t sure he ever even thought they would be. He just couldn’t hold it back any longer.
Steve tried to convince himself that this was a good thing. That now he had to move on. He had no choice, especially if Eddie was back in Hawkins. He couldn’t avoid him forever, their paths would have to cross eventually. Steve wished they wouldn’t.
Steve buried his face in his pillow and pulled the blankets up over his head, closing his eyes. He’d have plenty of time to dissect everything all over again in his own head in the morning. If he was making the drive back again so soon, he needed some sleep.
Steve had just managed to coax himself into something close to sleep when he heard the front door of the cabin creak open. So Robin did come back, he thought. Maybe she’d be driving back with him after all. He followed her footsteps across the living area.
The sounds of shoes being kicked off and the stove being lit were welcome to his ears. The stairs squeaked, and the floor outside his room, before he heard his door open and feet shuffling across the floor. He pretended to be asleep as the bed behind him dipped.
Steve loved her, he did, but he couldn’t listen to her go on and on about Nancy right now, whether good or bad. They’d talk in the car tomorrow. The blankets rustled and pillows were shifted, before he heard a deep breath being taken.
“Steve?”
Steve’s eyes shot open. His own breath stalled in his chest, because it only now that he realised. That wasn’t Robin.
“Are you awake?” Eddie asked softly.
Steve barely allowed himself to breathe as he turned over in the bed. The room was dark, barely lit by the moon outside, but the outline of Eddie’s features was still unmistakable.
“Hey,” Steve said quietly, afraid if he spoke too loudly he might wake himself from whatever dream he was in.
“Hey,” Eddie whispered back. His expression was almost one of confusion or gentle uncertainty.
“It’s cold in here,” said Eddie when Steve didn't answer. “Lit the stove for you,”
“Thanks,” replied Steve dumbly.
Eddie hummed. His eyes landed on Steve’s hand, resting palm up on the bottom edge of the pillow.
Eddie slowly moved his own hand so his fingertips rested lightly in Steve’s palm.
“Oh,” Steve breathed. His heart thumped so hard he was sure Eddie must be able to hear it.
“Yeah…” said Eddie, just as softly.
“What-” Steve began, before Eddie cut him off.
“Can we wait?” he asked.
“Wait?” asked Steve. “What do you mean?”
Eddie sighed.
“Can we wait until tomorrow to talk about it?” he said. “Can tonight just be…this?”
He gently ran his fingertips over Steve’s palm again
Steve nodded, giving a little ‘uh huh’ sound. Eddie gave him a sweet smile in return, still looking at their hands. They stayed like that for a while, Steve watching Eddie like he thought he was going to disappear while Eddie tapped his fingers soundlessly.
“You scare me, Steve,” said Eddie. Steve almost didn’t hear him, too caught up in watching how the movement of the moon highlighted the different lines of his face to hear the whisper.
“I do?” asked Steve. “Is that…good?”
Eddie shrugged.
“I think so. Stuff like this is supposed to scare you, I think,” said Eddie. “It’s supposed to feel….” Eddie took a breath and Steve watched his eyes move around as he searched for the words.
Steve thought he might wait forever for him to find them.
“It’s supposed to feel like a leap, right?” asked Eddie. “Like you need to trust your gut. It’s not supposed to be easy right away. You have to…want to earn it, I guess”
“And that’s how you feel?” Steve asked him, full of hope. “About me?”
Eddie took a deep breath.
“Yeah,” said Eddie simply. “When you…Outside, earlier, it was like…I don’t know, like an electric shock. But a good one. One I’d never felt before,”
Steve swallowed hard when Eddie took a pause.
“I didn’t know what was wrong with…Sara, that whole thing,” continued Eddie. “Why I wasn’t able to go be with her. But then, I felt that shock from you and I knew. Right away, it was like I just knew what I was missing,”
Steve took a shaky breath.
“I’m scared too,” Steve admitted. “Mostly that I’m dreaming, but, yeah, I’m….me too,”
Eddie laughed quietly at him, before sliding his fingers up to lace loosely with Steve’s.
“You’re not dreaming,” he whispered, squeezing his hand ever so gently.
“So you’ll still be here in the morning?” asked Steve. “When I wake up?”
He felt small suddenly, the vulnerability creeping up his spine again.
“Pinky swear,” said Eddie, shifting his hand again to hook their little fingers together.
Steve smiled.
“We’ll talk in the morning,” said Eddie again in a whisper. “Get some sleep,”
“Okay,” Steve whispered back.
Eddie shuffled an inch closer until their knees knocked together, and Steve felt his breath on their still joined hands.
Eddie smiled at Steve once more before closing his eyes and settling into the pillow. Steve settled too, the warmth of the stove fire finally reaching the room and leeching into the blankets around them. Eddie’s breathing evened out quickly, his lips slightly parted.
Steve hardly dared close his own eyes, afraid that if he blinked too hard Eddie would be gone. But the feeling of their lingering promise, their fingers still curled around each other, kept him grounded. Steve let sleep take him slowly.
The last thought before Steve drifted off was of everything he wanted to say to Eddie in the morning, all the promises he wanted to make. It felt like a beginning now, instead of an ending. Steve fell asleep feeling, in the very best way, absolutely terrified.
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pileofmush · 6 months
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luffy is for the sad, pathetic, touch-starved bitches. the ones who shiver at the mere brush of skin. who wince whenever their friends go in for hugs, unsure of where to put their arms. the ones who are so, so aware of their proximity to others. so careful not to brush fingers when walking side to side with a peer, or when handing a pencil to a friend, because they’re sure that one affectionate squeeze of the arm could leave their innards a puddle at their feet, creeping toward the nearest drain.
when you meet luffy, you think he’s one to be admired, not touched. you see the way he infects everyone around him with his reckless abandon. hanging off shoulders and dragging people to and fro. his crewmates are used to it. they scoff and wiggle under his weight for show: for there’s a sense of relief when monkey d. luffy has his eyes on you. you can tell in the automatic decompression of their shoulders, in the languid way they turn to him—saplings curving toward the sun. 
you see it, and you envy it. respect it. respect him. but that’s the extent of your thoughts on the matter.
you never considered that he would turn his sights on you. 
but he does. 
he picks you up like you’re something shiny, holds you up to the light and squints. and whatever he finds must be satisfying, because after that, he doesn’t put you down. 
it overwhelms you, at first. he tugs on your cheek at the sight of a frown, like you’re the one made of rubber, and your heart does a funny jig that’s actually not funny at all. he pokes you in the ribcage to grab your attention, and ignores you when you try to tell him that a verbal cue would work just as well. he grabs your hand, instinctively twining your fingers, and pulls you along when you stop in your tracks.
and you feel—you feel like a puddle. be careful your mind warns, or you’ll slip.
but luffy’s there to catch you when you fall.
and that’s what’s so terrible about him, you think. he’s the question and the answer. 
and he’s burrowed himself under your skin. 
how foolish of him to touch you so casually and expect you not to revel in it. not to crave his pokes and his prods more than you crave air. how foolish of him to drape himself over you like a weighted blankie and not expect you to desire him by your side, always, to keep the cold at bay. he’s a fool and you’re a pauper.
but, sometimes, you think he knows what he does to you. he has to. oh, how he’ll laugh when he catches you staring at his hands. bound over until he’s right in front of you, place a thumb under your chin and tilt until your gaze meets his. his eyes are dark, but so, so bright. you want to look away. you don’t. 
everything is so easy for him. it's unnerving. he plops his head in your lap one day with a carefree grin. you still—hold your breath like a child playing hide and seek. he cracks open an eye, like he can read your thoughts. or maybe he can just feel you tremble.
“what’s wrong?”
you rack your brain for an answer he could understand. “what do you want me to do?” you hedge. 
luffy furrows his brows. “whatever you want,” he says.
“no, i mean—where do you want me to touch?” 
he shrugs. “wherever you want.”
and you feel—you feel like you want to run your hands over every inch of his skin until you have a mental map of his body you could navigate through touch alone. you want to put him in your mouth. you want to inhale him like a drug, want him to burn the back of your throat 'til it stings. you want… him. 
you settle for caressing his jawline. tracing the slope of his nose. his eyes flutter shut, and you pause, but he grabs your hand and plants it firmly on his face. and it feels, it feels like you’re the question and he’s the answer. it feels like maybe, just maybe, you’re okay with becoming a puddle of a person, for him. 
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stvrchaser · 3 months
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𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬
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( pairing ) : clarisse la rue x fem!reader
( words ) : 2000
( note ) : noticed that clarisse has her nails painted in the show and… well this came out of that. reader is heavily aphrodite coded but i don’t think it’s explicitly mentioned anywhere what cabin she’s actually from? only that she’s not from apollo’s and she’s on clarisse’s side for capture the flag
also don’t we just love that every fic i’ve ever published is literally 80% pining? honestly can’t tell you the last time one of my fics didn’t have a scene that goes on for like three paragraphs about how much admiration reader has for their love interest
oh and happy new year!!
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Summer days can last for a lifetime and a fulfilling one at that. There’s so much to be done when the world wakes, engulfed in light and warmth, nurturing possibility. There’s so much to look forward to. But today, that anticipation has chosen to work against you.
The sun is setting now, approaching dinnertime, and Clarisse is nowhere to be found. For all of her spontaneity and occasional recklessness, it’s unlike her to abandon routines. That is, routines she shares with you. And walking to dinner together happens to be one of your longest-running practices.
You tried to ask around, careful not to sound too concerned so as not to spark rumors. See, Clarisse La Rue has never been publicly caught in a state that warrants concern. Clarisse La Rue is untouched by the fears that plague the rest of them. But you know better.
It isn’t until you come across a few Ares kids, very obviously overworked and looking nearly faint with exhaustion, that you come to your senses. It isn’t infrequent that Cabin 5 becomes victim to one of Clarisse’s drills, training until fatigue overpowers their fear of her authority. As predicted, you find her in a clear patch of the forest overlooking the strawberry fields. Some days she likes to train here, away from watchful eyes.
The setting sun casts her in golden light, bronze armor glistening alongside golden skin. Clarisse liked to train in full gear — a fruitful habit to get herself accustomed to the added weight of leather and metal. It allows her to move with ease, swinging her spear with grace despite the strength of her whole body being evident in every step. With her head held high, spear raised, and the incredible speed at which she moves, she doesn’t look even the slightest bit mortal, but rather a god amongst men. A warrior and hunter. She is the perfect picture of divinity if you’ve ever seen it.
You let your feet drag against the dirt, a fallen branch snapping beneath your weight. It informs Clarisse of your presence from a safe distance, although the remnants of her focused state aren’t any less intimidating. Her eyes burn bright like the electricity that charges the tip of her spear.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Clarisse realizes her error with a glance at the horizon where the sun is setting and you smile warmly, dismissing any indication of displeasure. You watch her demeanor change, the rigidity in her posture fading with an apologetic tip of her head. 
“I’ve been training. Those idiots would know that if they’d stuck around to join me.” Something tells you that that isn’t entirely true. Anyone could assume that she’d been training, but the matter of where was an entirely different question. As far as you know, this particular spot is something only the two of you are familiar with — a small refuge away from everyone else.  
“Well, we don’t all have your… passion for these things.”
“You think I’m ridiculous,” she says with a sigh. 
“Babe, you’re training for capture the flag. Not war.” Clarisse only shakes her head, knowing there’s no point in arguing. She thinks this is something the two of you might never see eye-to-eye on. While you like your fair bit of competition, Clarisse takes every victory with great significance. As she does with every loss.
“Here, I’ll help you,” you say, approaching to tuck a stray curl behind her ears. Your touch lingers at her cheeks, flushed from physical exertion and maybe something more by the way her gaze settles on your lips. Every intake of breath is louder now that you stand toe to toe and the adrenaline has started to wear off. She’s too worked up to have done this all for a game of capture the flag. “I hope you’re not doing all this to get back at Percy.” Her eyes still linger on your mouth and you think she might’ve not heard you until her brows furrow in confusion.
“Since when are you on a first-name basis?”
“Oh, come on,” you say with a disapproving shake of your head. “He’s just a kid.” You reach for the leather chord at the edge of her breastplate, undoing the knot with ease.
“He’s full of it.” She refuses to look at you now, her head turned upward as if she’d developed a sudden interest in trees. You can’t tell if she’s trying to maintain her composure to keep herself from saying something she’ll regret or if your gaze and proximity was distracting her from the discussion. Maybe a bit of both.
“He’s a baby. You could body-slam him into next Friday. It’s hardly a fair fight.” You untie the last knot keeping her breastplate in place, tugging upward to slip it over her head. Clarisse doesn’t even seem to realize that you’d freed her of her armor until the weight vanished from her body.
She looks at you then with an expression you can’t quite read. Something warm, like gratitude, but reluctant. When she speaks, it’s unexpectedly solemn.
“Do you really believe he killed The Minotaur? Him? Gods, everyone here trains themselves to death for that kind of stuff and he gets all the glory? He doesn’t even know how to shoot.” Now that you’ve been made aware of the gravity of the situation, it’s suddenly harder to find your words. This isn’t the petty rivalry you’d assumed it was, and you had to handle it as such.
“Well, I’m sure a few things have been exaggerated here and there, but that’s not his fault. People love to talk about him, but nobody’s really talking to him. I don’t think he’s had a say in anything that’s been said about him. You know how rumors spread around here.”
“But he’s—”
“Look,” you start, taking her hands into yours. “I’m not asking you to make him friendship bracelets. Just… try not to drown him in the lake, okay?”
You know the exact moment an idea hits her by the mischievous glimmer in her eye. It takes a lot of strength not to bury your face in your hands, afraid that you’ve now planted an idea that would get the poor boy killed. Or worse.
“Clarisse, please.” She surrenders, albeit reluctantly. 
“Fine,” she says. Still, you’re not entirely convinced.
“Good. Now say it.”
“What?”
“Say you won’t drown him in the lake.” Clarisse laughs, but it dies down when she realizes you don’t plan to join her.
“You’re kidding.”
“I’m really not.”
“I swear not to drown Percy Jackson in the lake,” she agrees through gritted teeth. You don’t say anything about the way her hands tighten around yours as if it physically pained her to say the words.
“See? That wasn’t so hard,” you tell her, ignoring that it did, in fact, seem hard. “Now, what are we gonna do with those nails?” Clarisse stares blankly at your joined hands. Chipped black nail polish alongside your perfectly pristine, perfectly preserved set of nails.
“Why do we need to do anything about my nails?”
“Honey, I painted these like two days ago. What do you even do to get them chipped like this? I mean, are you fighting with the back of your hand? I don’t understand.”
“I have to train, you know?” she says, like it’s meant to explain anything. You know better than to ask her to elaborate.
“Shame. You have very pretty nail beds. You should spend less time fighting puppy dog-eyed middle schoolers so you can actually keep them pretty.”
“You think I have pretty nail beds?” You shrug.
“Among other things.”
“Well, tell me about these other things.”
“Hm, and people think I’m vain.”
“Come on. What other things?”
You take a moment to look at her — to really look at her. To dissect every inch of her face and the features that create the picture of beauty you know and love. There are far too many pretty things to point out, but you find yourself drawn to one in particular.
“You have the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen.”
“Well, thank you.”
“Shut up. I’m not finished.”
“Of course. Don’t let me stop you.”
“And you have the most gorgeous smile.” Clarisse beams with pride. “Yeah, that one. And it doesn’t even matter if it looks like you’re just about ready to tear someone’s throat out with your teeth. I just like to see you happy. I like hearing you laugh even better.”
And laugh she does. Low but sweet, like honey. She looks like the teenage girl she is, deeply infatuated and with a capacity for love she has only ever shared with you. 
You indulge in the temporary amusement it brings you to think of how horrified Clarisse might be if anyone else were around to hear her giggle. Clarisse La Rue, Daughter of Ares, infamous for waging war on whichever unfortunate soul so much as breathes in her direction — producing a laugh so gentle and beautiful it could give Orpheus and his songs a run for his money. And you might be the happiest girl alive to have been the cause of it.
“You’re sure you’re not Apollo’s kid?”
“Are you calling me a talented poet?”
“I’m calling you a sap,” Clarisse insists with a sour expression, but her voice is saturated with mirth, eyes too bright, and you know she isn’t entirely opposed to your antics. 
“I think the term you’re looking for is romantic.”
“Yeah, right.” She rolls her eyes.
“I know I’m right, but thank you for the confirmation.”
“I know the nail polish fumes are getting to your head,” she mocks. You feign defeat, retreating with an exaggerated sigh.
“Maybe.” Two steps to your left and you’re concealed by a tree, its trunk twice as wide as either of you. You peak your head, locking eyes with Clarisse. “Or all that training is slowing you down. Honestly! If you’re gonna try to insult me, at least try to come up with something original.”
“Oh, you think I’m slow?” Clarisse asks, every word a thinly veiled threat — a challenge, and one you’re willing to accept.
“Unless you want to prove me wrong.” Clarisse lunges at you without warning, almost too fast, but you’re able to gather your senses. The tree had bought you just enough time to keep her whole body from slamming into yours, the force of it undoubtedly capable of launching you both to the ground. 
You dash through the woods as fast as your legs can carry you, your only advantage being that Clarisse must have tired herself out from training. But you know she’s hot on your trail.
From here, you can see the bonfire, flames burning high. You turn, prepared to declare that your victory is just seconds away. You’re tackled to the floor before a word can leave your mouth. 
“Oh, come on! That’s not fair, I was distracted!”
“Distracted by what?” Clarisse laughs hysterically although taking a much more graceful tumble to the floor than you had. She’s covered in fallen leaves and her jeans are brown at the knees where the denim fades.
“The pretty girl chasing me.” Clarisse is beside herself with joy, clutching at her stomach and close to tears, and it takes her a minute to calm herself. When the two of you have settled, she speaks again. Or tries to, that is.
“Oh, you are so—“ You place a kiss on her lips, short and sweet, but enough to leave her speechless. Clarisse turns a violent shade of red and you think she might need another minute to calm herself. You take that time to revel in your victory.
You stand, offering your hand to help her up. 
“Come on, let’s get dinner and you can rest for the game tomorrow. If you’re gonna lead us to victory, you’re gonna need your strength, captain.” She smiles, intertwining her hand with yours.
“You’re gonna be there? Right beside me?”
“La Rue, you’re crazy if you think there’s even a chance I’d ever leave your side.”
•°. *࿐
reader: pls don’t drown percy in the lake
clarisse: ok fine
clarisse: *tries to drown percy*
reader: what did i say about drowning people??
clarisse: …
clarisse: you never said the toilets were off-limits 
also i'm like brand new to the pjo fandom but i’ve been kindly informed of clarisse x silena (and their tragic ending but i turn a blind eye to that so i can preserve my sanity) but when i get there you WILL need to physically restrain me from writing fics about them
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Sirius is so obvious with his feelings, he’s wearing his heart on his sleeve and is constantly glancing at Remus with the most besotted expression
Everyone can see it - except Remus because his brain immediately goes static as soon as he looks at Sirius and all he can think is “pretty pretty pretty”
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