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#They had STORY LINES around him talking to the boy's dad because he wanted him to be impressed by him
novantinuum · 2 months
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Steven's Breakdown Was Inevitable From the Very Beginning
I feel like the thing that fucks me up the most about Steven Q. Universe and how well conceived he is as a character is that the fundamental building blocks of why he reached his breaking point in SU: Future were laid out as clear as day in the span of legit only the first four episodes of the original show. The writing was literally always on the wall that future him would struggle with matters of self worth and identity in relationship to the others around him.
Let's take a look:
Gem Glow
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"Awesome! What are these things?"
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Foundational Trauma #1: Steven's home is always either under threat or actively being wrecked by antagonistic forces/beings, and he constantly copes with this by pushing down his fear in favor of a curiosity and silver linings based mindset.
Look at his initial shock when he opens the door and gets tackled by one of these things, and then his response when one of them spits acid:
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The kid's freaked the hell out about all this, and while I do think there's a part of Steven that genuinely IS curious about what these lil critters are, I think he's subconsciously using that curiosity as a way to distract himself from his own fears and anxieties. This is Steven actively learning how to ignore the deeper problems in favor of emoting a facade to the others in his life that he can totally handle himself in scary situations like these.
The underlying reason why is incredibly apparent, when you look at the example from the next episode-
Laser Light Canon
"I don't know what a magic lady like her ever saw in a plain old dope like me..."
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Genuinely- from the bottom of my heart- I think the above quote from Greg is a moment where his own insecurities around the Gems actually rubbed off on Steven.
At this point in time, Steven may be living with the Gems... but he hasn't started to harness any of his powers at all, so in his own head he might as well be the same as his dad- another human, just one who happens to have a gem! But the way Greg talks about himself... given Steven was living with him in the van for years before moving in to the beach house, he had to have heard negative self-talk from his dad like this before.
And then there's the rest of the Crystal Gems... always speaking of Rose with such reverence as if she were an all-powerful goddess... and Steven can't help but look back at himself, and his gem that won't work... the gem that the others still identify as Rose's...
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"Your gem-! You have Rose's gem!"
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And maybe he starts to wonder if- without any working powers- he's just a plain ol' dope like his Dad, too.
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"Please work... Unlock! Activate! Go! Please-!! Everyone's counting on you, you can't just be useless!"
Foundational Trauma #2: Steven has Rose's gem, and as such, is constantly living under the silent expectation to live up to a standard that he simply cannot ever hope to achieve, because he doesn't KNOW her and he never will.
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I want to highlight one of Steven's expressions while his dad is talking about Rose- look at that sad look. My god, I just wanna hug him. This is the expression of a child who has already come to terms with the fact that his only relationship with his mom is through the rose tinted stories that other people tell him about her.
Cheeseburger Backpack
So. Steven has learned so far that he needs to push down his feelings and emote a false veneer of cheer and bravery even when he's afraid, because the rest of the people in his life have expectations and hopes for him due to the legacy of his parentage and he can't bear the thought of letting them down. (And in a sad way, at this point "letting them down" literally just means... being an ordinary human boy. I believe Steven at this stage of the show is flat out scared to be human, because to be human is to fail at being a Gem, and no amount of love and sacrifice in the name of humanity in the seasons to come could've ever saved him from the fundamental fact that the wedge between him and this whole half of his being was already drawn long before the events of season 1 even started. But I digress.)
Let's see where we go from there. Let's check out Steven's first "mission." Or as Pearl puts it about 35 episodes later, his first "test."
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"Yeah... they can't all be winners."
This episode is tinted with a little bit of tragedy for me on rewatch, because I genuinely do think the Gems handled the situation as well as they could've. They were supportive of Steven's successful ploys, and (for the most part) responded with grace when he majorly blundered and left the Goddess Statue at home. The main problem, however, is that Steven has already developed a bit of a complex about impressing the three of them-
Foundational Trauma #3: Even when they claim otherwise, Steven has convinced himself that affection from the Gems is transactional, and that when he messes up he's not truly a part of the Crystal Gems.
Of course we the audience know this isn't true- I mean, hell, Amethyst even said as much in episode one after her slip-up ("and you're fun to have around, even if your gem IS useless!")... that the Crystal Gems wouldn't be the same without him. But Steven... the poor kid is a complicated little guy living a complicated life, and whether they intended it or not, the language used they've used around him thus far has not backed up their attempts at fully embracing him, human parentage and all.
Thus, Steven just spends the entire episode wracked with anxiety trying to find creative non-power using ways to make the mission easier so he can convince them he's useful to have around.
Look how nervous he gets even when all three of them are visibly and vocally supportive of his presence here:
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This is the face of a boy who feels like he's under constant judgement and scrutiny from those around him.
Blessedly, viewing this episode in isolation, he experiences a brief moment of mental respite where he finally accepts the Gems' encouragement and agrees that his ideas 'can't all be winners,' but this lesson does not stick for him moving forward. A shame, really.
Together Breakfast
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"What's the matter, Steven?" "I wanted us all to have breakfast together, so I made Together Breakfast! But everyone keeps leaving..." "Oh, that's nice..."
Taken in context with what we've learned already in the last three episodes, Steven's desperation to spend quality time with the Gems here and his sadness that they keep leaving him alone doesn't just exist within a vacuum. He spends the whole morning watching them shuffle in and out of the temple, or come back from missions he wasn't invited on, and with the disastrous result of the LAST mission he went on probably fresh in his mind it's not hard to understand why this bothers him.
Foundational Trauma #4: Steven internalizes that the price of "not being useful" is that the Gems actively ignore him, meaning that the only way to guarantee their attention is to work as hard as he can to become a stronger member of the team.
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I know this screenshot is usually used as a lighthearted meme, but I wanted to include it because I think it's a good example of how Steven's intense desire to impress permeates every facet of his personality at times. Just LOOK at how desperate he is to make Garnet laugh at his joke, to be the one that's at very least "fun to have around," as Amethyst put it in episode one.
The Gems do eventually drop what they're doing to spend time with Steven by the conclusion of this episode, but this only comes after Steven shows his growing strength and "proves" himself by saving their butts from the breakfast monster.
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If he successfully gained their attention in literally any other way he might've come away from this episode with a different lesson, but no. Instead, his fears were proven true- the Gems value strength and utility, and if he's not exhibiting that, then what use is he to them?
These fears of his can be seen weaving throughout the foundational fabric of the entire show, but I think Steven lays out what he sees as his "stakes" in the clearest way possible in the episode 'An Indirect Kiss.'
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"But- if I don't have powers, then I can't hang out with Amethyst, or Garnet, o-or Pearl, and- I-I can't go on missions!"
And these same insecurities even rear their ugly head as late as the movie.
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"I can't believe this... for the first time in years, everyone's in danger, everybody needs me, and- I'm useless!"
Powers = Utility = Worth = Other's love, for Steven. Everything is transactional to the end, which is a hilarious double standard he's set for himself when he's made his reputation as the kid who always listens and encourages and gives others a chance to change, no matter their messy history with him.
__
So let's recap and restate those foundational traumas from Steven's perspective.
One: The only way to cope when your life is constantly under threat is to bury the damage and pretend to be fine.
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Two: Everyone expects you to live up to the standards of someone you're not.
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Three: The Gems only love you when you're of use to them.
Four: If you ever stop being useful, the Gems won't want anything more to do with you.
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In sum, Steven's habit of burying his feelings for the benefit of others was there from the very beginning, not just since 'The Test.'
Those unreachable standards he felt so daunted and intimidated by all his life were the ones set by Rose, at first... but over the course of the series, the dynamic of this shifted. As Rose's influence fell into the background, Steven's rose into the front. And so it's with great irony that- by the time of Steven Universe: Future, the expectations this exhausted, worn down teenager is fighting to once again achieve are the ones HE set for himself. Many of young Steven's selfless actions during the war are quite admirable when analyzed in isolation, but almost none of them are sustainable. He set himself on fire just to save the world, but teen Steven is genuinely unable to see this for what it is yet- as a tragic sacrifice of his own childhood. You can't burn your own ends for others forever, not at all. His breakdown was simply inevitable.
When it comes to the interconnected beliefs three and four, these are exactly why the ultimate confrontation at the end of I Am My Monster HAD to be one fueled by selfless love. Steven is at his absolute lowest at this point- he's everything he fears he's become, trapped in a form that's nearly incapable of reason. He's big and angry and spiky because that's a part of the facade- because a part of him WANTS to scare the Gems away, wants to be left alone forever, believing this the fate he deserves as price for his misdeeds.
In this form, by his own definitions he is NOT useful to the Crystal Gems at all.
But they don't care.
Because it never WAS about Steven's 'usefulness' to them, they simply love him for being Steven.
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With this in mind, the conclusion of Steven Universe: Future wasn't just a salve to teen Steven's immediate struggles, it was a salve to the foundational insecurities that have been plaguing him his entire life.
And hopefully... from this point on... his family's shows of love and encouragement will be enough to finally convince Steven that he's more than worth their time...
No matter what path the future leads him on, and no matter what form he takes.
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lovingmattysposts · 20 days
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Quiet
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P2 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8
pairing: some of you guys should be KISSING MY FEET RN because yall were boycotting me, BUT that pairing it y/n and Matt sturniolo
summary: a girl with a lot of baggage and a boy with even more try to help put each others pieces back together one by one. A story about a girl who’s broken and a boy who doesn’t talk
warnings: mentions of a father drinking, mentions of blood, mentions of death
Welcome to the first part of my new series: Quiet. A long awaited new Matt series that my Matt girls have been itching me to write. This plot lines gonna be good. Trust me, I’ll get you hooked up keep up with me. I love you, and I hope you fall in love with this story.
As always, Autumn.
I tumbled down the stairs as I pulled on my shoe. "Shit!" I fell hitting the bottom step, scraping my knee open. I took in a breath and bit my lip to muffle the cry that was about to fall from my lips from the impact.
"Shit" I whispered as tears welded in my eyes.
If I'm honest. I'm a baby when it comes to pain. Mental pain? I could stuff in inside all day long, but I scrap my knee? I'm in full on tears.
Suck it up. Suck it up.
My eyes closed as my hand came over my bloody knee. For some reason my inner voice always had my mother’s voice attached to it. It was a weird thing inside my head that I wish I could escape—but I couldn’t.
I turned my head. My dad was still asleep on the couch. He hadn't heard me. I let go of a breath when I realized he hadn't heard me.
Stand up, you'll be late.
I took in a breath and stood up uncovering my hand to see the blood had stained my hand. I swallowed and hobbled over to the kitchen before opening drawers that were empty. I pulled one open and finally saw a box of bandaids.
I sighed of relief and grabbed it, before realizing it was empty. I closed my eyes, the tears seeming to resurface.
It's only because it's Monday, Y/n. You'll be okay. It's just because it's the first week of a new-
"Shouldn't you be getting off to school?"
I looked up, lifting my elbows that I was hanging my head in defeat against. I set the box down, staring up at my dad that was fully awake.
"Yes, sorry. I was just getting bandaids. I fell down the stairs" I explained. He just stared down at me, crunching the beer can in his hand. I glanced towards it.
"I was just about to go" I whispered as he walked around me to the fridge. He glanced over at me and then down to my knee.
"Clean that up, you're getting blood on my tile" He said motioning to the blood from my scraped knee now trickling down my leg. I nodded before grabbing a towel quickly and running water over it before placing it on my knee, cleaning up my leg.
"Not--Ugh. Fuck Y/n. Not my good towels!" He snapped the towel out of my hands. I looked up at him as he examined the blood-stained towel.
"Get to school" He snapped. It took me two more seconds before I grabbed my backpack off the kitchen counter and ran out the door, down to the bus stop.
I finally hunched over, attempting to catch my breath before I saw the bus round the corner. I sat up and soon enough it stopped right in front of me. I walked into the bus, the noise of other high school students chattered.
I made my way to the very back of the bus where It was quieter. I sat down, scooting to the end where the window was and leaving my backpack next to me so no one would sit there.
It wasn't the morning for social hour. If i'm honest, I wanted to curl up and never be seen again.
I swallowed the lump in my throat as I looked down at my knee, the throbbing beginning to start as new blood came to the surface.
Maybe I would just get some bandaids from the school nurse.
Maybe today would be a good day.
-
The bus ride wasn't that long. I spent most of it just staring out the window picturing what my life now was, what I had left behind. It was a fresh start, only it didn't feel like one. It started raining. Pouring.
I sighed as the rain hit the glass and made me hestitate to press my face into it like I wanted to . I didn't want it to somehow break the glass and get to me.
The bus haulted snapping me out of my thoughts as everyone rose from their seat. I grabbed my bag before following the rest of them out of the bus. I ducked my head once the rain poured down on me and sprinted towards the front door of the school.
Once the cool air of the school hallway hit me, I'd never wanted to be anywhere less. Listen, I hated high school just as much as the next person.
I stood in the big hallway as I looked around, hugging my arms to myself.
But it was worse when you were new.
Someone bumped my shoulder, causing my bag to fall of and drag my arm to the ground. I turned seeing a guy just glance back at me, not bothering to apologize.
and when it was in the middle of the school year.
I glanced around again.
and you knew no one.
-
It was almost embarrassing as a teenager in America to look around and see the same people moping and possessing different high school stereotypes around the US. It was a weird thing that was always consistent.
Almost everyone played the same role, the same cliques, just maybe they looked a bit different from town to town. It was so predictable it hurt.
I closed my eyes and slumped back in my seat. I shouldn't be so judgy. At least that's what my mom always said. I glanced around to a girl applying some lipgloss and every-other second glancing to a boy next to her, as if she was begging him to watch her apply the $8 lipbalm from claires.
Judging Y/n.
My mother's voice rang in my head. "Sorry" I mumbled to myself as if she could hear me. She couldn't.
"You're in my seat"
I looked up seeing a guy staring down at me. I blinked up at him before glancing around the room. All eyes on me. I swallowed looking back up at him.
"I--"
"You lost?" He tilted his head. His hair was dark, his skin tan, his eyes full of fire. I grabbed my bag off the back of my chair. "I didn't know this was your seat. I'm new" I explained as I stood up. He slammed his bag on the desk before I had even gotten all the way out of it.
"Yeah you look it, what's with the weird ass clothes?" He motioned to my body. I looked down at my jean shorts and long sleeve black tshirt. I didn't think anything was weird about my outfits.
I heard muffled giggles from around the room. I glanced around.
"I'm from the south, this is what--"
"I didn't ask" He snapped as he sat down and turned to talk to someone next to him. Without another word I retreated towards the back of the classroom feeling everyone's eyes watching me.
I wanted to die. Curl up and never speak or do anything again. I hated how I'd let him walk all over me. I hated that he made me look so weak in front of all of these people that I didn't know.
I set my stuff down in an empty seat in the middle of the back row and slumped in my seat, pulling out a paper in pen and scribbling on it immediatly, because If I didn't--I knew I was going to cry.
Don't cry. Suck it up. First days are hard for everyone.
My eyes glued to the paper, I heard the teacher walk in. I looked up. A man, middle aged, nice smile.
"Alright hooligans--" He lifted a sheet of paper up to his eyes. "Which one of you is Ms. Hemingway?" He spoke looking up, glancing over the classroom.
Kill me. Strike me dead on the ground.
Everyone turned in their chairs, looking back at me. I sunk farther in the chair as the teachers eyes landed on mine. I forced as small smile as we made eye contact.
"Ah well, welcome to the team! We are so happy to have you. I'm sure everyone will give you a warm welcoming. It says you moved from Florida?" He asked. My eyes widened as he proceeded to have a full blow converstaion with me with 25 other kids in the room.
I nodded slowly.
"It must be a bummer moving from the sunny state to Massachusetts, especially in the middle of winter" He chuckled. I stared at him.
You had no idea.
"Any particular reason?" He smiled. I was over this. I looked up.
"My mother died" I stated blankly. His smile fell quickly. The students around me eye's widened as I spoke. The teacher cleared his throat before proceeding on.
"Yes well, I'm sorry for the loss. We will catch you up with everything...." I tuned his voice out as I looked back down to my page.
"What a freak" I heard whispers around me. It may not be polite to announce your mother's death before even telling someone your first name, but I wasn't deemed as the most traditional person in the world.
I kept to myself. I never had many friends. I didn't play sports. I didn't like outside school activities. There was a very short things that I did enjoy, and the only thing that kept me going was remembering those things. Listing those things.
I lifted my head for a second to forget about the pity I was about to put my mind through. It was the first day, I wasn’t going to resort to listing my favorite things to make me feel like my heart was still beating.
I turned to look at the people around me. Most of them sleeping, listening to music, or completely in their own world.
Except one.
I titled my head to get a better view.
A boy.
Light brown hair, crease between his eyebrows, glasses, blue eyes. Listening to everything the teacher was saying. Writing down almost everything. I just sat there and watched him for a second before he tilted his head and met my eyes.
I felt frozen for a second. This boy just completely caught me staring at him. His eyes widened slightly when he saw the fact that I was acknowledging him and turned away, his cheeks pink.
I turned away.
Fuck, I didn't mean to scare him. I swallowed and looked out the window, feeling the guilt wash over me.
Maybe today wasn't meant to be a good day.
-
I was wrong, today was meant to be a terrible day.
I moved out of the way of some girls passing by me as I stood in the lunchroom looking around. There was almost no empty tables. I looked to the side before making eye contact with a girl who quickly looked away from me giggling with her friend.
I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling the tears start to come through the back of my eyes.
It was so much easier attempting to make new friends in kindergarten than in high school where everyone was judgemental and cliquey and….fucking mean.
My eyes scanned the room. Please don’t let me be the girl who sat in the bathroom at lunch. My eyes finally spotted an empty table.
"Thank God" I breathed as I placed one foot in front of the other and walked towards the table, but as I got closer I realized it wasn't empty. There was a boy sitting there.
The same one from my class this morning.
Short brown hair. Blue eyes.
I turned to walk away. He had his head shoved in a notebook and didn't look like he wanted to be bothered. I paused as I turned and saw every other table full.
"No" I cried to myself.
I'm not eating in the bathroom.
I turned back to the table with the boy. I walked slowly up to him and once he saw me in his peripheral vision, his head shot up. I froze from the shocked looked on his face when he looked at me.
He shut his notebook fast as I slowly approached the table. I swallowed as his eyes didn't leave mine.
"Hey" I said as nicely as possible. He just stared at me. I swallowed. I looked down at the table.
"Can I sit?" I asked softly motioning to the empty side of the table. His eyes didn't wavor its gaze on me and his mouth didn't move.
I blinked at him.
"Do you care if I sit? I won't bother you." I said shaking my head.
Blank stare.
I swallowed as I looked at the table.
"I don't really have anywhere else to go" I whispered looking down at my shoes.
Still, no response.
I blinked up at him. His face has turned from scared to calm, blank. His eyes shifted down to the cut on my knee from this morning.
I looked down at my knee.
“I fell down the stairs this morning” I explained. He glanced up at me. “I didn’t have any bandaids” I whispered. He took in a breath before flipping open the book again and looking down.
Only then did I realize it wasn’t just a notebook, it was a sketchbook.
I shrugged my backpack off and set it down. "I'll take that as a ‘I don’t mind if you sit here’, quiet boy" I sighed as I swung my feet over the seat and sat down. I reached for my bag before pulling out an apple.
I didn't hesitate to take a bite out of it. I was starving. I looked up meeting his gaze, as he had one hand on the spine of his book. He just stayed looking at me. Like he was studying my features. I chewed slower.
“What are you drawing?” I asked pointing to the book that was out of my view. He just blinked at me. Maybe I should start with something a little less personal.
"I'm Y/n, by the way---Sorry" I stated my mouth half-full from the apple. I realized that it was probably rude that I didn't introduce myself. He just blinked at me.
"Are you deaf?" I asked not in a rude way, I just didn't know if he could hear me. He glared at me and shook his head. My eyes windened. "Oh sorry, I didn't--" I shook my head, my face growing red.
I’m already fucking this up. The first person I talk to. Great.
"And you are?...." I trailed off tilting my head. He blinked and took in a breath, looking back down at the table. He shrugged. I just blinked at him.
"You don't know your name?" I asked. He glared up at me, as if to say: Obviously I know my name.
I sighed and crossed my legs under me.
“What are you drawing?” I asked again. He didn’t respond, just pulled the book closer to him. I sighed and leaned back.
"You're in my world lit class" I stated. He looked up at me. "Is that guy always such a dick?" I chuckled. He raised his eyebrows and nodded.
"Hey look, I got something out of you" I smiled at him. He didn't smile, he just stared. What was with this kid?
"I'm new here. I just moved from Flordia...which I guess you already know since that teacher put me on the spot" I sighed remembering the awful moment.
He glanced down to the apple in my hand and then towards my bag. I held the apple close to me. "Are you judging my choice in fruit?" I smiled. He shook his head, not even cracking a smile.
I sighed and looked down at the apple I took one bite out of.
"It was all that was left in my fridge. It doesn't taste that good. If it was my choice, I'd had a bunch of blueberries and strawberries....oh! I'd even throw in some black--" I glanced up at the brown haired boy who just blankly stared at me. I shut my mouth.
"But that wasn't in my fridge" I finished quietly looking down at my apple. I set down my apple before pulling out a notebook.
"Sorry I know I said I wouldn't be a bother, and i'm....bothering. Just ignore me" I said looking down at my notebook, but I could still see him looking at me from the corner of my eye.
About 20 minutes later, everyone started to file out of the cafeteria and he was quick to get up and disappear before I even had time to grab my bag.
I turned around and looked through some people, but he was gone.
I sighed as I shrugged my bag over my shoulders and followed everyone out. This was going to be the longest first day of my life.
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2hightocare · 1 month
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LOVE WAGER! 01
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Synopsis: Meeting a crazy stranger who cuts in line, tries to tell you love like the books doesn’t exist—it’s whatever. You won’t ever see him again… right?
Pairings: jungkook x fem!reader
Genre: college au. strangers to friends to lovers. forced proximity.
Warnings: mentions of divorce parents, Jungkook lowkey being insufferable, banter, cussing, a little bit of them being enemies, nicknames, oc being a hopeless romantic at heart, Jungkook being lowkey a cynic… them meeting each other so many times, choking!
a/n: first chapter out!! Woohoo, I’ve been keeping them close to my heart for quite some time. Ever since I listened to “in between” by Gracie Abrams.. I was inspired to write them—the song is so them coded.💌
★ masterlist!
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3 years ago…
You were a hopeless romantic.
Most people called it being delusional— by people, you mean the random stranger in front of you.
The first time you met Jungkook, not only did he cut in front of you in line, but he also started shit-talking about how delusional you had to be to think romance books were even remotely comparable to real life.
The line at the cupcake shop was long. You had been wanting to try the new chocolate-covered strawberry flavor from your favorite cupcake shop in the city. The shop was always full, but today it was packed to the bone— the line almost reached outside the door. The people sitting at the cute pastel-colored tables were even leaving because the space was getting so crowded.
It was a Friday, and you had just left school. Your black backpack hung loosely over one shoulder as you stared down at your phone, trying not to die playing Subway Surfers. When your phone died, you internally groaned.
You mentally rolled your eyes before looking forward, where the line was starting to move faster. You were probably the fourth person in line, which was good since you'd only been there for around twenty minutes. You slipped your phone into the back pocket of your jeans before reaching for the zipper of your backpack—pulling out the latest book you hadn’t finished reading amidst all the assignments teachers had been bombarding you with. You thought it was dumb, considering it was your senior year in high school—why not just let you off easy?
You zipped up your backpack before slipping it on, tucking in the small hair that fell into your face when you opened your book. You moved forward as the line advanced, not bothered by the conversations from everyone around you—it was like your own brown noise, which you usually looked up on YouTube whenever you wanted to act like the main character in a movie.
Romance books were your thing. The same went for movies; you loved a good romantic story with the most cliché plot in the world—it did it for you every single time.
Your dad had tried getting you into self-help books, fiction books, or even those thriller books where you had to guess who kills who. He would back this up with actually learning something from reading a book, and you tried all those genres, you really did. You were the most specific girl there could be; if the book didn't impress you within one chapter, you closed it and moved on.
You were basically in love with the idea of love, imagining someone doing all those things you had seen in movies and read about, which filled you with hope that someone could care and love you that way. Yes, you believed in soulmates; you believed that someone, somewhere in this world, was destined to be with you, no matter the circumstances. You believed that if two people were destined for each other, they would find a way to each other, one way or another.
“Hi, baby, you still haven’t ordered? The line is so fucking long.” A strange boy, who looked around your age or maybe slightly older due to his eyebrow piercing, spoke up. He had a navy blue cap with the Yankees logo on the front, and you could see small pieces of his hair. It looked like a dark brown, but at some angles, it looked black, so you thought maybe he dyed it. He was cute, with a sharp jaw and dimples, which you immediately noticed when they showed on his left cheek as he bit his lip, waiting for you to reply.
“I’m sorry—“ you started, only to be cut off by him. “I've been meaning to show you this, babe.” He cut you off before basically shoving his phone into your face. His phone showed his notes app open with a text that read, ‘Please act like you know me so I can cut in line; it’s so long, and I have somewhere to be.’
Your brows furrowed at the pleading guy. You had no clue what his name was, but he looked like he was seriously about to lose his mind if he had to wait another minute in line. You shook your head before nodding— a smile burst on his face.
“Thank you,” he mouthed to you, to which you only shrugged before closing your book. “What flavor are you getting, lovebug?” He said, his nose scrunching in disgust at what he just said. A small laugh escaped your lips since that was the cringiest shit you had heard all day, maybe even all week if you didn’t count your dad trying to write you a poem about his love for your cat.
“I want to get the new chocolate-covered strawberry flavor. What about you?” You said, your fingers fidgeting with the pages of your closed book. His eyes dropped to your hands as you moved up in line, now second in line.
“Is that your book?” He said instead of replying to your question. “Yeah, do you read?” A spike of excitement was clear in your face and voice, only to be squashed when he opened his mouth.
“Do you actually believe anything in there is remotely realistic?” He said nonchalantly before removing his cap, letting his fluffy hair fall in his face before almost immediately collecting it back, placing his cap backward this time.
“I—“ you stutter, your mouth slightly agape, not knowing how to reply without sounding dumb. Because, yeah, you strongly believed romance books were able to happen in real life if someone loved you enough. “Well.. I mean, love happens anywhere,” you shrug, but he only nods his head in a condescending way. Not only were you helping him skip in line—he was basically criticizing your view on love.
“Well, duh, love happens, but all that cringey shit is the dumbest thing our generation normalized. Like, nobody is going to confess their love with a microphone in the middle of a dance-off,” he scoffs. You didn’t understand why he actually looked like he seriously hated the idea of making gestures for someone you loved or cared about.
“Well, obviously, I find that stupid as well, but there are other gestures to show your appreciation and love for someone.” You turn your whole body to face him. He’s not much taller than you, maybe two inches if you really wanted to know, and the cap maybe added another inch, but that didn’t matter since your eyesight was eye level with his.
“Love is embarrassing,” he says, crossing his arms in front of him. You felt the lady behind you both, her eyes bore into you both, trying to figure out why the supposed couple were fighting about love.
“How is love embarrassing?” You scoff before turning around to look in front of you, at the back of the head of the man who was ordering.
“Because love makes you do embarrassing shit all the time; that’s the easiest way I can put it for you, ribbons,” he replies with a duh tone, raising his eyebrows at you, which you see from your peripheral vision.
“Ribbons?” You turn to him, your arms crossed over your book as you glare at him. “Pink ribbon. Don’t you think you look a little too old to be wearing bows?” A grin appears on his face as he casually points to the pink ribbon tied into a bow in your hair.
“The fuck? Not only did I let you skip the line, but you’re a) talking shit about my favorite genre, and b) making fun of me wearing bows.” You turn your full body to him, which he only raises his hands in defense, as if you had a gun pointed at him.
“Damn, my bad. I thought this was a free country; you know your amendments, right?” He raises an eyebrow at you. “Yes, I fucking know my amendments,” you reply, absolutely annoyed at him bringing history into this.
“Freedom of speech,” he says before walking in front of you to the cashier. You were annoyed, maybe even angry. How dare he talk shit and say freedom of speech when you just did him a favor.
“He cut in front of me,” you point to him as you tell on him to the cashier, his jaw dropping to the floor. “Did you just tell on me? What the fuck,” he side-eyes you as you just shrugged.
“I respectfully need to ask you to go to the back of the line,” the cashier says, shooting you an apologetic look. You bite on the inside of your cheek to contain the smile that is threatening to slip out, as he sends you a mocking face, which you return, because apparently, you both were literal children. He rolled his eyes before he walked off.
2 years ago..
The second time you met Jungkook, you almost died due to choking on your coke.
You and your best-friend, Amelia, sat in a booth, munching on pizza, while you hear her ramble about the latest drama on campus.
“I can’t believe he cheated on her. I was so shocked, like I couldn’t believe he would do that after he literally gave her a promise ring—I heard it was expensive as well, bro,” Amelia said, stuffing a French fry in her mouth.
Amelia and you had been best friends since your freshman year at Preston University. She ended up in your dorm room by mistake, until security escorted her to her corresponding room. You both even had your calculus class together, which ended in both of you ripping your hair out because you truly had no clue what the professor was talking about.
“Oh my god, you’re lying!” you gasped, taking a bite of your folded pizza. “Alexandra said she didn’t care, but apparently, she was crying at the frat party we were supposed to go to yesterday,” Amelia said, pressing her lips together with wide eyes. As you were about to reply, she gasped.
“Holy shit, babes, don’t turn around, but there’s this fine-ass guy behind you,” she said. Without thinking you turned your whole body to look at the guy she was talking about.
“Or just turn your whole body, I don't care,” she added, rolling her eyes.
“Wait, who?” you asked, staring at the group of boys in front of you. They were all cute, just not your type whatsoever. “He just turned around, so you can’t see his face, but the one with the black beanie,” Amelia whispered to you as she took a sip of her Dr Pepper.
As you stared at the back of the boy who was engrossed in a conversation with his friend, a loud laugh escaped his lips before he threw his head back, letting you catch a glimpse of his face.
“Oh, fuck, his laugh is hot as fuck as well,” Amelia said behind you, chewing on her crispy fries. “Do you think he has a girlfrien—“ The words melted from your mouth as the beanie boy turned around. “Yeah, he definitely has a girlfriend,” Amelia said nonchalantly, clearly not catching how your eyes widened, as you both stare at the boy who had cut in front of you in line three years ago.
He was taller, much taller, and he was built—you could tell even from his oversized long-sleeve shirt. As much as you wanted to disagree, he was undeniably attractive. The eyebrow piercing was still there, but it somehow looked better than when you first saw it.
“Ribbons?” he said, pointing at you with a chuckle, making you flinch for absolutely no reason. Amelia looked between both of you, trying to read the room.
“Mr. anti-romantic?” You fired back, a huge smile breaking out on his face before he excused himself from his friend group and made his way to your booth. “I see you got a nickname for me... I feel honored,” he said, pressing a palm to his heart dramatically before shooting a nod at Amelia, who waved with a small smile on her face.
You just rolled your eyes. He was the most childish person you had ever met, and that says a lot since this was only the second time you'd ever spoken to him. “I wouldn’t be so honored,” you mumbled, shooting him a tight-lipped smile as he shook his head with a low chuckle.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” Amelia said out of nowhere, both you and the unknown boy's heads snap to the side as a smirk makes it’s way to his mouth, while you throw daggers at Amelia with your eyes for her blunt question. “I doubt he would ever hav—“ you start, only to be rudely interrupted by none other than Mr. anti-romantic himself.
“I actually do, and I was just about to meet her here, but I saw your friend and just had to come and say hello,” he said to your best friend, all while wearing a condescending smile.
“Oof, I feel bad for her,” you shrugged, before placing the straw of your clear cup in your mouth and sipping on your coke.
“Eh, she says I’m a pretty good boyfriend, not a hopeless romantic like someone I know,” he said, watching your eyes meet his before you tilted your head in a mocking way, which he picked up immediately.
“I wonder how you even got her to say yes to you,” you bit back, your eyes maintaining contact with his, not wanting to be the first to break it. But he was too good at it; you almost felt like crumbling into a ball from how intense his stare was.
“I guess you could say there are more ways to please a woman without love letters,” he said nonchalantly. You choked on your coke as the liquid went down the wrong pipe, making you start having a coughing attack.
His and Amelia’s eyes widened as Amelia immediately swatted the man who was right beside you. His hand made contact with your arm, raising it up in the air.
“The fuck are you doing?” Amelia said aggressively, side-eyeing him, as you basically died in front of their wondering eyes. You really didn’t expect him to just talk about his sexual life so openly without a care. You would want to crawl into a hole if your boyfriend ever talked about your private moments like that to anyone.
“My mom said if you put someone’s hand up, it makes your cough go away. I don’t fucking know! I’m not a doctor,” he shot back at your best friend as he raised your arm in the air. Your cough slightly disappeared as you tapped on your chest as if that would do anything to stop it.
“Are you good?” Amelia said as she basically hovered over the table. You felt the whole dinner's eyes on you as you tried to recover from the insane coughing fit you just had. “Y-yeah, fuck,” you coughed, your arms still up in the air from his hold. “I almost for real thought you were about to die. I already imagined myself behind bars,” he said, rubbing his unoccupied hand through his face with a sigh.
“Now I’m hoping I actually died,” you said, yanking your arm away from his grasp.
“We’re leaving, Amelia. Let’s go,” you said, standing up, collecting your jacket and bag, and pushing him out of the way, standing up beside him.
He hovered over you; you almost wanted to jump up to reach his height, but you were already embarrassed enough. So instead, you fixed your denim skirt before looking up at him.
“Well, it was so not nice to see you again, and hopefully we don’t get to meet again, Mr. anti-romantic. Goodbye,” you said as you sent him a fake smile his way.
You pulled on Amelia’s hand before she could say anything and walked out of the dining room without looking back at the boy who was standing in the same place, watching the girl he almost witnessed pass away by choking on coke from him even remotely bringing up sex.
A small chuckle left past his lips as he made his way to the table where his friends were seated.
“Dude, what the fuck happened? Why was that pretty girl coughing like crazy?” Taehyung said, eyeing the door through which you had just left.
Jungkook didn’t know why his heart picked up when his best friend called you pretty. He wasn’t blind; you were beautiful. When he first met you, you both were obviously much younger. If it wasn’t for how much you had grown into your face and the braces you once had were long gone, it would’ve been your aura that gave it away. You were more outspoken, which kinda took him back but sent a sense of excitement through his body.
“No clue. Just some girl I met in my senior year... kinda taken aback I ran into her again,” Jungkook said before picking up the menu from the table, looking for what food he should order. “Maybe it’s fate, bro,” Namjoon teased, which made Jungkook drop his menu on the table.
“You guys know all that shit is bullshit, right? It was just a coincidence. I’ll probably never see her again after this,” Jungkook rolled his eyes, leaning backward onto the booth and crossing his arms in front of him defensively.
“Whatever you say, champion,” Hoseok whistled as he called the waitress.
Jungkook's brain immediately canceled out the noise as he started running through all the possible scenarios that would leave you both at the same place at the same time. His body shook from the possibility of it being fate; he hated the idea of the answer being anything besides actual proven fact. He didn’t care how cynical he might sound; he had trusted so many people in his life, including his parents, who always preached about love and honesty. But flash forward to him having to skip around each house of his parents every weekday and weekend. He hated how he believed them when they said love can get through everything. Absolutely not—divorce.
He just imagined your perfect household, two parents at the same home who still say ‘I love you’ to each other every chance they get. You get to read your books in your living room without a fight breaking out out of nowhere just because someone forgot to throw the trash out.
Love didn’t exist in his eyes. He believed in mutual respect. He doesn’t believe in the whole crazy in love charade. His girlfriend Haneul didn’t really want the whole whispering cute things in each other's ears or dancing under the moon either, and that’s why he chose her.
Plus, he wasn’t an asshole when it came to love when it came to other people. Did he want to ruin their moment and tell them they wouldn’t last? Yes—but he never does.
He saw how broken his mom was after the divorce. He thought about the idea of love and if someone came to love you, you would do anything in your power to not hurt them. It had been five years since his parents’ divorce, and everyone seemed to have moved on perfectly, while Jungkook watched how his perspective of love changed drastically over time.
He was glad that you didn’t have to go through what he had to go through, given your obvious naivety. That was entirely the only reason he shit-talked about love when he first met you, which was the most jackass move he could’ve done, especially after you let him skip the line. But after you told on him to the cashier like a little child, he was thinking of actually tackling you.
Either way, it didn’t matter for him to be worrying or thinking about you in the first place, when he didn’t even know your name. Plus, he would never see you again, that’s for sure.
Present day..
Psychology class was your number one nemesis. You literally begged the counselor to let you have another class that wasn’t psychology. Not only did he laugh, but he said it would do you good. In your mind, he basically called you crazy—maybe you did need the class after all.
As you huffed and puffed to your last class of the day, you fixed your glasses on your face and tightened the high ponytail with the white ribbon that matched the outfit Amelia helped you pick out. You pushed open the door to the class and were greeted by half-empty seats and no professor, giving you the option to choose where you sat.
You were a middle-seat row girl, unable to see far away without your glasses. You also avoided sitting too close to the front, fearing teachers would call on you.
As you took a seat in the chair, a body sat beside you without a word. You didn’t even care to look as you took out your laptop from your backpack, worrying about how this year’s professor might be. You had heard from last year’s students that the teacher might have been the devil’s spawn.
While you were finally seated, you moved your head to your left to see the body next to you engrossed in their phone. Your jaw dropped as you were met with none other than Mr. Anti-Romantic.
“What the actual fuck, are you stalking me or something?” you said, absolutely baffled by how many times you had run into him and from all the empty seats, he decided to sit next to you.
He immediately raised his head from his phone, his eyes widening as he stared at your obviously angry face. “Ribbons? What the actual fuck, I didn’t realize that was you,” he said, throwing his head back in shock.
“You had to know it was me, why else would you sit beside me?” you scoffed, crossing your arms in front of you. He looked the same as the last time you saw him, except now he had a full sleeve of tattoos on his right arm, and the eyebrow piercing was long gone.
Now that he was closer to you, you could see the small mole he had under his lip and the scar on his cheek. His hair was shorter and black, but classroom lights deceived, so maybe it was fully brown, but you didn’t dare to ask.
“Don’t think you’re special, Ribbons. I just can’t see from the back, and in the front, teachers always pick on you to talk in front of the class, and I’m trying to avoid that,” he explained, having the same process as you, but unfortunately, the other half of his brain didn’t process the idea of love.
“Are you sure you have the right class?” you bit out, hoping he had walked into the wrong class and would have to leave immediately. You seriously couldn’t even wrap your head around the fact that he was here and that he went to the same university as you—this being the first time he had seen you around campus.
“Psychology class A65,” he side-eyed you as you rolled your eyes and faced the board, trying your best to ignore his presence.
“You know you can just move to another seat, right?” he said, pointing to all the empty seats beside you. Your head slowly turned to the side to face his face as he gave you a tight-lipped smile.
“Why would I move when I was here first?” you scoffed his way as he shrugged, indicating that he couldn’t care less. “’Cause I truly don’t care, but you obviously seem affected by my presence, so Ribbons, pick your seat,” he pointed to the available seats.
You imagined the easiest way you could kill someone, but tackling him to the ground at this exact moment might bring attention to you both, so you just breathed out of your nose before giving him a fake smile and rolling your eyes.
“I’m not leaving, and for your information, I’m perfectly fine and not bothered by your presence whatsoever,” you said, trying your best to seem as calm and collected as possible.
“For your information…” he mocked beside you, trying to imitate your voice before chuckling. “I swear, Ribbons, I can see smoke coming out of your ears and nose,” he laughed.
“Stop calling me Ribbons,” you gritted your teeth, already at your limit.
“What else do you want me to call you? I don’t know your name, and you’re still wearing ribbons, I can see,” Mr. Anti-Romantic pointed to the white ribbon in your hair. You rolled your eyes before sending his calm, collected figure a scanty smile.
“Y/n,” you said, tilting your head to the side, as if asking him to tell you his name. “I like Mr. Anti-Romantic, not gonna lie,” he bit his lip, trying to contain his laughter as you were about to lose your composure at any moment.
“You aggravate me, and I don’t know why,” you mumbled, hoping he didn’t hear—but he did, loud and clear. “Jeon Jungkook,” he said, and before you could reply, the professor strode in, wearing the weirdest clothes you could imagine.
“She looks like that one crazy Victorious teacher,” he whispered softly, only for you to hear, smugly bending downward so you could hear better. A small laugh left your lips. “Sikowitz?” you whispered back as both of you stared forward at the professor, who was talking about the syllabus. “Yeah, spot the difference: hard level,” he whispered.
You looked down at your hands, trying to hide the amusement on your face.
For the rest of the class, you guys didn’t talk whatsoever, and honestly, you wouldn’t know if he tried, since you were absorbed in whatever Mrs. Calderon was saying.
“So, here’s where you start hating me, I’m giving you guys a project,” she said, leaning on her desk, making the desk creak. You could hear small groans from students around you, but not loud enough for her to hear.
“It will be a partner project, which I chose randomly, and no, I’m not changing them. I want you guys to be able to work with whomever, no matter what,” she said, a sense of dread passing through you.
“I would email each and every one of you what the project is about. It is due at the end of the quarter, so I better not hear, ‘I didn’t have time, Miss,’” Mrs. Calderon said before picking up a sheet of paper.
"Here are the partners, so after class, come and check who your partner is so you can start talking about what you both will do." With that the bell ringing, everyone stood up and rushed to the paper, including yourself. You held tightly onto your backpack strap as you waited for people to move out of the way—half of the people bitched about who they got, they couldn’t possibly be that bad.
Your heart dropped to your ass as you read your name—Jungkook squished beside you, looking for his name, only to find it where your finger was already on.
You got paired up with Jungkook. What kind of fuckery was this?
As Jungkook read "Y/n Y/ln & Jeon Jungkook," he couldn’t believe his eyes. He almost lost his mind when he realized it was you when he sat next to you, but he tried his best to act unaffected. However, this was too much of a "fuck you" sign from the universe—Jungkook didn’t think he did something so horribly to be rewarded like this.
What the fuck were the odds, and how could he scientifically prove that it’s not the universe trying to mess with him?
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Taglist💌— @httpjeonlicious @thekookiedealer @somehowukook @taiwan0618 @gwsjungkookie @seokout @sealuv79 @junecat18 @joonsanswer @letjungcoook7 @skzthinker @ahgasegotarmy116recs @ivygguk (I couldn’t add some idk why😓)
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creedslove · 10 months
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HEARTLESS 💔 - PART TWO
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Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels) x f!reader
Summary: much to your horror, Jack shows up again and asks you to see his son one more time
(This is the second part of the one shot HEARTLESS 💔)
Warnings: angst, hurt, a little bit of fluff because Wyatt is super cute, mom!reader, asshole!jack, mentions of abortion
A/N: besties honestly i don't even know why I am doing this, while i was writing, i realized i don't like this suffering at all 😭 i think agent whiskey is such a dad and husband material and he's so handsome and sexy and he would be so affectionate and would give the best orgasms and cuddles in the world but i can't stop myself from pouring angst into people's lives 😭
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Wyatt whimpered as you sent him to bed. He wasn't sleepy at all and he wanted to talk about all the fun things he'd seen during the day. He loved to run freely through the green fields, he liked scaring away the chickens, petting the horses and watching the baby pigs. 
But his favorite part of the trip was the cowboy. He was so cool, Wyatt spent the rest of the day blabbering about him and asking you all kinds of questions. He was so innocent and pure, your heart shattered each time he would look at you with his little curious eyes and shoot you another question about the mysterious figure. 
Though he wasn't mysterious at all. It was his dad, not that Wyatt knew about it, you figured he was just too little for that, he was still your baby. He wasn't even four yet and he had to live his little life with only his mama as he'd been rejected by his dad since he was just a small little bean in your womb. 
You saw his begging, pleading eyes, just like Jack's and felt your heart clench, there was nothing he would ask you and you would say no. You sighed and pulled Wyatt into your lap "fine baby boy, if you don't wanna sleep now, then come cuddle mama!!!" You tickled his tummy and made him squeal and snuggle you. 
You sat comfortably in his small bed and let him sprawl over you, loving how happy he got. You ran your fingers through his soft curls and pecked the top of his head. He was waiting for a bedtime story as you always told him one, but this time, he wanted a cowboy story. You swallowed and took his tiny little hand into yours, stroking it gently 
"You really liked that cowboy, didn't you?" You asked your son and earned an excited nod "alright… let mama think…" you closed your eyes and thought of any story you could tell him, however, you didn't know any cowboy stories… the only cowboy story you knew was your cowboy… but that was a long time ago, when he was yours and you were his. 
Still, Wyatt looked up curiously, waiting to know what you had to tell him. 
You swallowed and began telling him the story about your cowboy. 
With a few modifications, some sugar coating and softness you told your son about your first encounter with the cowboy and how it made your heart melt. You told him how you two hit off and how the cowboy had a real nice job of fighting bad guys and saving the world, you couldn't control the pride in your chest as you saw the joy in Wyatt's eyes, loving that storytelling so much he often gasped and giggled.
And going down the memory lane, you managed to make your son sleepy, as he blinked his tired eyes and yawned "night night mama" he whispered before falling asleep.
You smiled at yourself and covered him up, silently walking out the bedroom and walked around your dark, empty apartment. Your mind wouldn't stop replaying the images of your day, your sudden encounter with Jack, something you really thought wouldn't happen soon. He looked handsome, like he always did, smelling great and if you didn't know any better, you would probably fall for his trap again, if he flashed you those beautiful eyes, gave you a grin and said any dumb pickup line with his accent. There was just something so attractive about him, and you had fallen for him once, but you wouldn't make the same mistake twice. 
You thought about how he hugged Wyatt, it didn't even seem the same man who rejected him, who simply broke things up with you once you found out you were pregnant. One day you were deeply in love with each other, and the next he was suggesting you get an abortion. It was something you just couldn't handle, you couldn't accept and just like you were alone in the world with your baby. 
When the doorbell rang, your heart clenched once more, you didn't even need to check, you just knew it was Jack. 
You dried your eyes and sighed, walking to the door and opening it for him. 
Jack stood there, looking almost as unsure as you did. He was holding his hat in hands and watched you hesitantly. You could tell he was looking for words to say, but nothing came out. 
"Come on in, Jack" you said and let him step inside, closing the door behind him and letting him get familiar with the place. 
Jack looked all over the place, he had never been inside your home and it hurt him how it looked homey and cozy. No matter how much he spent on decoration at his own place, he could never get it like that. 
He carefully watched the picture frames, so many photos of a life that could have been his as well, but he chose not to be a part of it, it didn't even matter his reasons now, the result was there: pictures of you on your baby shower, pictures of the first time you held Wyatt in your arms, his first birthday, his first day at daycare, mother's day… all those precious, beautiful moments, and absolutely no trace of Jack. 
"It's good seeing you again, Y/N… you look even prettier than before, sugar" the man turned to you, his voice was small and though his cocky way of speaking wasn't there, you couldn't believe the first thing he told you in years was a cheap attempt of charming you.
"What do you want Jack?" You folded your arms and stared at him, you didn't want to play games nor beat around the bush.
"I wanna be around my boy" he replied to which you scoffed and shook your head 
"Your boy? The same one that you rejected when he was nothing but a tiny little bean in my womb? The one you insisted on me getting rid of? I don't think so, Jack" 
He sighed ashamed of his past and took a step closer, to which you immediately took a step back, showing him you wanted nothing but distance from him. 
"I know what I did, and I know how awful it was, but after I saw him today… I realized I can't get away… please Y/N" 
"You think you can just walk in and demand to see my son? After you abandoned us? He isn't a cute puppy, Jack! You can't just find him sweet because you spent five minutes with him and think you can bring your shit storm into our lives. That's not how it works. I don't want him around you, because you are a mess and you will break his heart just like you broke mine!" 
"I didn't abandon you, Y/N. Don't be unfair with me!!! All these years, I followed the two of you from afar, I provided you with money and other things you needed.. hell, who do you think managed to get you this apartment lease?" He raised his eyebrow getting on the defensive "I wanna do it the right way, but if you make things hard, I'll get a damn lawyer and you will have to fight your cut ass off to pay for one yourself because I won't rest until I have my boy with me!!!" 
You knew Jack, he wasn't bluffing. He was the kind of man who got everything he wanted, but you just couldn't accept he could walk into your home and have a claim on your son after everything that happened, even threatening you to find an attorney. 
"It's not the same… money helps but it is not everything, where were you when I was pregnant and alone? When I needed someone to hold my hand and tell me things were fine? Where were you, Jack? When Wyatt had his first fever and I didn't know how I could help him calm down? When he said his first words? When he took his first step? You missed it all out, even if you had given me your whole fortune, nothing pays the memories you lost!" 
"I just want to see my son, nothing else Y/N… I don't want you, I don't want our relationship back" he said knowing it would sting you, he couldn't help but make his intentions clear. You two would never be together again, he knew that because you would never take him back, so he thought it was easier to just convince himself of it beforehand. 
You, on the other hand, could never be with him again, even if he hadn't done the things he did, there was still no way you could compete with a ghost, you just thought it was easier to convince yourself Jack never stopped loving his first wife and he never would, so your relationship was nothing but an adventure. 
You didn't want him to see the tears in your eyes, you didn't want to show how weak you felt at that moment. 
Before any of you could say anything else, tiny footsteps interrupted the argument that was about to explode. 
"Cowboy!!!" Wyatt said excitedly as he still rubbed his tired eyes but ran to Jack, giggling as he was so easily lifted up into his arms. The toddler was so affectionate, he just wrapped his small arms around his neck once more and rested his head against Jack's shoulder "miss you cowboy!" he giggled happily and snuggled.
You bit your lips and did your best not to cry, but it was pretty much impossible, you couldn't understand why your son liked that man so much without even knowing him. It wasn't fair to you, and you were ashamed to realize you felt jealous. 
Jack, on the other hand, felt his heart fill with pure joy for the first time in ages. He quickly kept Wyatt in a warm embrace, loving the smell of his baby shampoo and how cute his PJs were. 
His hand rubbed up and down his back as he sat on the couch, letting him relax completely and in a matter of minutes, Wyatt was back in dreamland.
You hated how easy it was for Jack to make your son fall asleep, and how much they already liked each other, it hurt you so much, but you were determined not to let that man get near you again.
_____
A/N: ¿Malparido, no?
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hoedamn-eron · 1 month
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listen okay
been thinking about Oscar's characters and what they're like as dads
Spoke very briefly with @writefightandflightclub about this, months ago (can't even find the post it was that long ago - I'll link it later if I do - FOUND IT)
Poe Dameron is a girl dad
Santiago Garcia is a girl dad (see here)
Steven Grant is a girl dad
And Marc Spector and Jake Lockley
(Jake especially)
But Nathan Bateman
Nathan Bateman oozes boy dad
Because, right:
Nathan created Ava and has the mindset that girls are scary
(And Luna pointed out that he'd be wary after that having a girl after 'the incident' and I agree)
Seems like the kind of guy to say 'first time, guaranteed' after sex, when you both agree to start trying
(he was right, it was)
(you still don't know how he did it)
Anyways, you both have a boy
He needed to find out at your anomaly scan because he hasn't been able to control one single thing during this pregnancy and he hates it
So he voted he found out the gender
Makes you put on classical music for "the foetus" (Nathan's words) because he seems like that type of guy
Not that he doubts the kid'll be a genius, but it can't hurt
When your son is here, Nathan would be a mess
It was one thing knowing you were pregnant, seeing the bump and ultrasounds and all
But now there's an actual kid
A kid that is fully reliant on him
Nathan probably wouldn't sleep for weeks
Just sit and works and watches the kid, make sure he's breathing
He'd mellow out eventually, when you'd told him he needed sleep and can't keep doing this to himself
You took over the night shift after that, mostly
He isn't the kind of dad to rough house
But one that you'll catch talking out coding issues to an infant who just stares at Nathan, just because of the sound of his voice
Your son would look nothing like you, and take everything after Nathan (he's super smug about it too - not only can he make literal lifelike robots, but he has 'superior genes' too)
Would want to call the boy something unique like Silas, or Atlas, something along those lines
You had veto'd them very quickly
But Silas grew on you, so I can imagine you agreed to a unique name
Once your son was old enough, he'd definitely teach him how to box
Since Nathan's sleep schedule is fucked (he's working on it), he's always up first with the kid
You'll always find them on the decking at the punching bag
Nathan was always guiding him, praising him when your son eventually punched the bag
You and Nathan both regularly went out on hikes (he enjoyed them more than you did) even before the kid
When the kid was born, it was easy to carry him around in a carrier on your chests
But when he got older and learned to walk, he never wanted to be carried
And the hikes took longer
So now Nathan's planned out new family friendly routes for you all, where you'll all be out for an hour, tops, and not far from the house
Nathan really hates mess, so will probably follow the kid around once he starts walking, just picking up after him
If he's stressed or hungover (he's working on that too) he would probably yell at you to sort it out
He'd apologise later after you chewed him out, even offering to do bath time and get the kid ready for bed
"I'll read him a story or some shit"
(It's probably Stephen Hawking)
He'd arrange someone to decorate the kids bedroom to look like space or something
You had a field day looking around the IKEA website and choosing what you wanted for your son's dream bedroom, but Nathan had just rolled his eyes and got the more expensive, designer, equivalent and it was delivered within a week
You'd told him off for doing it, but he just shrugged at you wordlessly as he set up the bedroom for your son
This is long enough, I'm gonna stop here, but now I want to write a full series of dad!Nathan 😭😭😭
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acowardinmordor · 11 days
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Rumor Has It
Found this in my drafts and don't really remember writing it. I know it was prompted by a post I saw, but I can't find it . The only other thing I know is true in this AU is that Steve is not aware he isn't straight.
-
Eddie didn't trust the rumors that plagued Hawkins. He heard them just like everyone else, sometimes he'd chase down more details if it interested him, but he didn't trust them at first contact the way that most of the denizens of the town seemed to. The ones that faded away in a few days were obviously fake. The ones that lasted weeks probably had some grain of truth. But this one, now six months old, but still only whispered about, should have been counted as truth. If it lasted that long, it had to be true. Eddie still didn't trust this one.
Not when it was a rumor that was, quite literally, the stuff of his dreams.
Steve Harrington was gay.
According to rumor.
The story started sometime after he got dumped by Wheeler and got his shit rocked by Hargrove. Eddie didn't know where it came from, but he heard it said for the first time a few weeks later. Hargrove never said that it was why Harrington got beat to hell, but he gave a nasty grin if the topic came up that implied a hell of a lot about Harrington on the rebound.
And Eddie didn't trust that. He didn't trust it when Tommy H started telling tales from their freshman year. Or when some of the guy's attempted-hookups started talking.
Eddie didn't trust it because it spread fast, stuck around, had plenty of sources, but it also never got said to Harrington's face. And if there was one thing that Eddie was sure of, it was that no one in that damn town had a problem throwing out slurs if it was even possible someone was different.
According to the rumor mill, that was because Harrington's dad had a connection with the mayor and enough money to bring the police down on anyone that started something. So it remained a rumor, remained in the background, and Eddie remained unconvinced.
Until Eddie went to the mall.
Embarrassing uniforms to earn minimum wage was not evidence. Though it was eye candy.
A different facet of the rumor said that Harrington Sr made Steve get the job as a punishment for the facade of heterosexuality slipping. So, no, the ridiculous, awful, wonderful, slutty little sailor suit didn't count as evidence of the guy's sexual or romantic preferences.
The lip gloss, on the other hand...
And maybe some eyeliner and mascara, but Eddie hadn't gotten close enough to be sure that wasn't his imagination.
And even then! That wasn't proof. A straight guy could use makeup. They didn't, they flipped out at the very concept, but in theory, it was possible.
Eddie wanted to know. Nay, he needed to know. His dreams, and his junior-year-crush demanded answers. Eventually, the temptation of fruit of knowledge grew to be too much.
Slipping into line behind a trio of girls, Eddie watched as Steve deployed the charming smile that had melted the hearts of half the school. Plus Eddie's. He watched it fail to work, catastrophically, and after six months of hearing this rumor and resisting the lure of believing it, he figured: fuck it, go for broke.
If it was bullshit, he'd get to be the one who broke the news to the guy, which might finally be enough to kill that stupid crush of his when Steve flipped out at the insult of the implication.
On the other hand, if it was true....
"Hi, welcome to Scoops Ahoy!"
"Well, hi there, sailor boy," Eddie flirted.
-
This is a hot potato fic. Continue it, steal it, whatever you please.
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pizzaqueen · 1 year
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I've had this scene in my mind of Eddie encountering Steve’s dad at the hospital post S4 for a while but I didn't know what to do with it. I've written it up, anyway, and I'm posting it here instead of letting it languish. Maybe I'll do something else with it one day?
Just over 800 words, warnings for being in the hospital, I guess and maybe being a little angsty
The first time Eddie meets Steve’s dad, it’s at the hospital, after everything. He’s seen Steve’s dad before, of course he has, everyone knows the Harringtons. But it's always been from a distance, and Mr. Harrington has always seemed arrogant and out of touch.
Eddie waits until Wayne is asleep in the chair beside his bed to get up. Between the shit he's hooked up to and the tightly bandaged wounds, it's not easy, but he needs to do this.
He pulls back the edge of the curtain dividing his bed from Steve’s, then pauses. Steve is lying there, dark circles under his eyes, unconscious and pale and looking less like one of the heroes from Eddie's stories and more like a boy who's seen too many awful things, given too much of himself to them.
Guilt wells up beneath the cotton wool feeling of the painkillers that have been pumped into him. It’s not because it’s Eddie’s fault, but Eddie’s here, on his feet, and Steve isn’t. He will be, though. He has to be.
There’s a vague memory playing in Eddie's mind of Steve carrying him out of that fucking place, Steve's breathing labored, his arms strong but trembling. He'd barely made it out of there before he'd collapsed to the ground with Eddie still in his arms. Everything goes kind of dark after that.
Eddie’s about to step forward, say something—thank you, would be a start—even if Steve can’t hear him, but then he notices that Steve isn’t alone. There’s a man sitting by his side, in the twin of the crappy plastic chair Eddie’s uncle is hunched over in on Eddie’s side of the curtain. He’s wearing a gray sweater and he’s got a sweep of dark hair that looks like he’s been running his hands through it and his nose is the same sharp line as Steve’s.
"Jesus Christ, Steve," he says, voice small and broken, "what the hell did you get yourself into?" His hand rests by Steve’s on the stark white hospital sheet, his pinkie finger hooked over Steve’s.
Steve’s breathing is deep and steady and Mr. Harrington chews on his lip, watching Steve so intently he doesn’t seem to have noticed Eddie standing at the corner of Steve’s bed.
After a few minutes, Mr. Harrington sucks in a deep, shuddering breath and says, "C'mon, slugger, you gotta wake up before your mom gets back from terrorizing the doctors, okay? You know how much she worries…” He trails off, looks away, puts his head in his hands.
And Eddie knows he shouldn't be watching this, but he's frozen. If he ever spared a thought for Mr. Harrington, it was just to think of him as some rich asshole Eddie didn't give a shit about. He has no idea if he's a good dad or even a good person but, right now, Eddie feels bad for him. It makes him miss his own dad and then he feels guilty about that, too. Wayne is right there, sleeping by Eddie's bed because he didn't want to leave him alone and he's a better dad than Eddie's father ever was.
Mr. Harrington makes a small frustrated noise and Eddie finally comes back to himself. He goes to turn away, but, as he does, his foot catches on something and the sound is small but it's loud in the hush of the hospital room.
Steve’s dad looks over, brow furrowing.
“Sorry,” Eddie says, “I wanted to… Sorry.” He shakes his head, which makes it spin. Or maybe it’s the whole room that’s spinning. “I’m Eddie,” he says, and he doesn’t know why. “Munson.”
“The boy wanted for murder?”
“No, I— I hope not.” Eddie breathes out and it feels harder than it should be. “That wasn’t… I didn’t…” His legs feel weak and he should just turn around and go back to bed but he keeps talking: “Steve, he— Saved me.” And it’s only part of what happened and it’s more complicated than that but it’s the truth.
“He—” It looks like Steve’s dad doesn’t know what to do with that and then Eddie’s legs give way and the only thing stopping him from falling is Steve’s hospital bed. “Whoa, hey,” Steve’s dad says, pushing himself to his feet, “you should, um…”
“Dad?” Steve’s voice is croaky and confused. His unfocused gaze slowly moves from his dad to where Eddie’s slumped by his bed. “Eddie? You’re—” He coughs, then winces, and his dad forgets all about Eddie.
“Steve,” is all he says, leaning over his son, hand hovering.
And then there’s a hand at Eddie’s elbow, guiding him away. "C'mon, kiddo," Wayne says, "you shouldn't be up," and he gently helps Eddie up onto the bed.
On the other side of the curtain, there are voices—Steve’s dad, a woman that’s probably Steve’s mom, doctors—but it’s quiet on Eddie’s side. Wayne is there, awake now, watching as Eddie finally lets himself fall asleep again. At least he knows Steve’s awake now. And he’s not alone.
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twinklelilstarkey · 2 years
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Tutor: Pink Pen - Rafe Cameron
Words: 5.8k+ Type: Smut Summary: You've been Wheezie's tutor for more than a year now, and that means that you've been in the presence of her brother as well. Warnings: Fem!Reader. Dark!Rafe [+ mentions slight obsession from both characters]. The reader is very impulsive. Slight mentions of drinking alcohol, drug consumption, and fighting. Good Girl x Bad Boy trope. SMUT (fingering, dom!Rafe, sub!reader, risk of getting caught, rough touching?).
I do NOT give you permission to repost my work. If you'd like to read my stories on other platforms, you can find them on my Wattpad and AO3.
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You intrigue him. You intrigue him to the point of driving Rafe to insanity. He has had his eyes on you for some time, and you are, absolutely, everything he has ever wanted to have.
You are gentle, nice, sincere, and even a little shy. You are a good student, a good friend, and a good person overall. Rafe is nothing of what he just described. He is not nice to people, probably even to his own friends. He doesn’t see any pleasure in helping other people and he doesn’t see the deal with studying. He has never worked hard for almost anything in his life, because he always had a way to get to where he wanted to be, no matter what. And that is why you are always in his mind.
You started tutoring his youngest sister almost a year and a half ago. His dad, his sister, and his step-mom absolutely love you. Wheezie’s grades have never been so high, and, even, Wheezie herself has never been so excited about school. You are, many times, invited to stay over for dinner - to which you always do that adorable expression before saying something along the lines of “you are too kind”.
Rafe has forced himself to control his staring and his somewhat obsession over you. Over dinner, he only looks at you sometimes. He doesn’t come into Wheezie’s room when you’re there, even if he needs something from his sister. And he has never, ever, spoken a word to you.
The only reason why he has never said anything is that he has never really had many chances. Someone is always near you. In his house, there’s always one of his family members. And outside of the house, you always have a friend nearby. Rafe doesn’t have a good reputation. Your friends would come running to your rescue if they ever saw you talking to him.
He’s not good news, and never will be.
And even when the reality is told this way, you also can’t help but feel something towards Rafe too. Everyone knows he’s bad news. Before even taking the job as a tutor, all of your friends told you to refuse to work under the same roof Rafe Cameron lives. Same thing with your parents.
You have heard all of the rumors around the island about Rafe’s activities. He fights a lot, sometimes with random people for no reason. Most of those fights are provoked by him too. He does drugs, specifically cocaine, and occasionally smokes weed. Both of which he has never bothered to hide from the public, as he supposedly does them at parties. He drinks too much at those same parties. You have heard some of his arguments with his father, on accident, and some of his with Sarah.
He is not a good person, and he has never said anything close to a word to you. You’ve never even heard him talk about you to someone else, either in a good or bad light. Not like how you’ve heard him speak of other people. Yet, still, something makes your heart speed up, and your insides awaken with some sort of flame every time you see him.
The closest thing you two have to an actual interaction is what happens almost every single day that you tutor. It doesn’t have any words, or anything close to that.
The door to Wheezie’s room is always left slightly open when you two are studying. It’s very rare for you to close it. Unless Sarah has her friends over, and you prefer Wheezie to have some silence when she’s preparing for an important test. Rafe’s room is just down the wall. This means that he has to cross the hallway to get to his room, therefore, walking right past the door.
Every time he walks in front of it, you look up and your eyes meet right away. The first time it happened, it was extremely scary for you. You had never met Rafe, it was just your 3rd time tutoring Wheezie, and all you knew about her brother is the stories everyone tells. When he looked at you through that space between the doorway and door, you felt your heart fall to your feet. You were terrified.
And then, it happened again, and again. As mentioned before, it almost happens every day that you tutor. And, slowly, with every time you locked eyes with him, your fear evaporated and some sort of attraction grew inside you.
The feelings you have for him have always been indescribable. You don’t know how they started and why they did, but they’ve gotten worse with every day that passes. You’ve even resorted to searching it on Google, at one point, and all that came up are the cliché answers of “opposites attract” and about how common it is for people to be attracted to scary/dangerous individuals. You didn’t dive too much into that research. Not only because the results were getting weird, but because that only resulted in the confirmation that you are wholeheartedly attracted to Rafe Cameron.
Yesterday, you walked over to the Cameron’s household and tutored Wheezie like any other day. And it happened again. You had lifted your gaze when you heard the footsteps over the stairs and then saw Rafe lifting his eyes from his phone to look at you. The looks never last more than 1 to 2 seconds, but, every time you do it, it’s like the time slows down and everything is silenced. You almost feel dazed when it's over.
You’ve always thought this attraction was ridiculous. As if Rafe Cameron would ever look at someone like you in that way. If anything, you are a little ashamed of your feelings. You haven’t even come close to telling your friends. All you’ve done is sometimes stare at him in public and, consequently, get told off by your friends, every single time.
“Call me whenever you’re done.” Your best friend tells you, right as you jump out of her car.
“I will.” You tell her with a smile, “Thank you for the ride.”
She smiles back at you as an answer and, before you could close the door, she speaks.
“Remember!” You open the door completely, “Don’t spend any more time in this crazy house than you need to, got it?”
“Yes, ma’am!” You say playfully at her.
She rolls her eyes at your lack of judgment towards the Cameron’s, and you finally close the car’s door. You turn around and begin to make your way towards the front door. As your friend’s car drives off, you automatically look over to the side to see Rafe’s bike missing.
Your chest squeezes at the lack of his presence, and you push the front door open. Rose, who was just crossing the hallway, looks up at you as you come in and a smile grows on her face.
“Hi!” She says happily before walking toward you and giving you a quick hug, “Wheezie is already upstairs.”
“Thank you.” You tell her with a smile before beginning to make your way towards the stairs.
“I love the dress.” You hear Rose say from behind you, and you look over your shoulder.
Your smile grows at the compliment, and you look down at the flowery summer dress. You thank her once more, and she smiles back at you. You make your way up the stairs, backpack over one of your shoulders, and walk to Wheezie’s room.
The door is closed, and your eyes lift over to the closed door at the end of the hallway. He’s not home yet, but disappointment returns to your mind as you don’t get to see him walk out of the room.
You shake your head, trying to get the scenarios out of your mind, and you finally bring yourself to knock on Wheezie’s bedroom door.
“Come in!” She says.
You open the door softly and push it open. Wheezie is sitting on her bed, phone in hand, while Sarah is laying across the bed, staring at the ceiling. The two sisters look over and smiles grow on their faces as soon as they see that it’s you.
The three of you share your greetings as you put down your backpack on the ground, and you walk over to take a seat by Sarah. The conversation is light and more than comfortable. Sarah also compliments your dress and even asks you where you bought it. You all spent at least 20 minutes talking to each other until Sarah decided to leave you guys to work.
“See you in 2 hours!” Wheezie tells her sister as Sarah walks over to the door.
“If you survive…” She says suspensefully, and you smile at her.
Sarah grabs onto the doorknob as she walks, and you stare at her with absolute devastation in your heart as she closes the door fully. You, realistically, have no reason to go over there and reopen it. And this only means one thing: you will not be seeing Rafe today.
You get up from the bed slowly and walk over to the ground, where you usually study with Wheezie. It’s a rather weird thing the two of you have been doing. It's due to Wheezie feeling too comfortable everywhere else, which leads to her getting sleepy and wanting to stop working for the day. The floor became your best friend in your almost 2 years of being her tutor.
You begin to take out everything that you need from your backpack, and Wheezie does the same thing, as you two sit side by side. You pull out your laptop as well - to see if you can find any other practice tests for her as soon as you have her entertained with something else.
Wheezie hands you her corrected homework, as she always does, and you carefully read what the teacher wrote in the notes. Wheezie sits in silence while you read and whenever you’re done, you hand it back to her.
“What do you have to do for tomorrow?” You ask her.
“Nothing.” She tells you, “Only day without homework.”
You don’t hesitate in believing her and quickly fetch a practice test from your bag. She gives you a glare as you hand it to her, and her expression quickly cracks into a smile when you mimic her.
You stay silent as she does the test, and you look through your computer. You begin to try, without looking, to get your pen from your bag, but you don’t seem to find it. You look away from your screen to look for your pen, and you empty your whole bag to not find it.
“What is it?” Wheezie whispers softly.
“I can’t find my pen, for some reason.” You tell her, “I swear that I used it yesterday when I was here, but I don’t think I put it in my bag.”
Wheezie thinks for a bit, and then the realization hits her.
“You forgot it, yesterday.” Her eyes move over to her desk, “I think I put it up there but… Rafe was in here last night and needed to sign something down for Dad, so he used it.”
“He has it?” You conclude for her.
“I think so?” She says, unsure, “I don’t think he gave it back to me.”
You nod and open your mouth to say something, but she beats you to it.
“Never thought my brother would keep a bright pink pen, but...” She says, and you laugh with her. “If you want me to go grab it, it might be in his room.”
“No, it’s okay!” You tell her, “Keep working, I can go grab it.”
“Are you sure?” She asks.
“Of course.”
You stand up from the ground and, with slow steps, you open the door of Wheezie’s bedroom. You walk out, closing the door after you, and look over to the infamous one at the end of the hallway. Rafe isn’t home yet. At least you didn’t hear his bike outside. So, it will be fine. You won’t be caught. It will be quick. Just an in-and-out situation!
Step after step, you feel your heart begin to beat quicker than before. Your steps are slow and almost inaudible. When you get there, your hand lays over the cold door knob. You hesitate as the consequences of your actions run through your mind. You don’t want to anger someone who is already naturally angry. And movies always make it seem like boys hate when you go over into their rooms... Maybe you shouldn’t be doing this. Why did you not let Wheezie do it?
You turn the knob and push the door open slowly. A fresh breeze from an open window hits you as you walk in, and you take a look around.
The room is clean, the bed is made, and everything seems overall neat. There isn’t much of a personality to the room, but you’re also not quite sure what else you were expecting.
You notice, now, that you stand just by his bed, right in the middle of the room. Therefore, not, in any way, looking for your pen. Your heart is still going at frantic beats, but you’re not really caring about it.
You left the bedroom door just slightly open when you came in, so, no one really will see you from across the hall. You turn around, looking now at the door that you can only assume leads to his bathroom. You take a few more steps, staring at some books that he has, and even some clothes that he has on top of his wardrobe.
A gray jacket is folded and laid over the wardrobe. You walk to it and can’t help but lift your hand to touch it. It seems soft, and you remember that Rafe wore it last week. He had come home late that day, and you had just finished dinner with his family. You remember that you also thought it looked soft on him.
Your fingertips touch it and you feel the smooth material. A strange excitement courses through you as you do this. It's something that you shouldn’t do, in a place where you probably shouldn’t be. It’s weird, but indeed exciting.
A little smile grows on your face, but something breaks the silence.
“What are you doing?” A voice asks.
You pull your hand away quickly and look over at the door. Your eyes widen and your heart almost feels like it’s going to explode, pounding in your chest. Rafe looks back at you with a serious expression while he stands by the door. The one he pushed open, and you didn’t even hear.
“I- Uhm…” You try to speak but it feels harder than you expected, “I- I was just looking for my pen.”
“What pen?” He asks, still with a straight face.
“A pink pen.” You tell him quickly, scared that you’ll anger him if you take too long, “Wheezie told me that it could be here.”
Rafe stares at you for a few extra seconds and his expression is completely unreadable. You can’t tell if he’s mad or not. He just stares and does nothing else. You do a step to the side to distance yourself from the wardrobe but are too scared to look away from him.
Rafe finally looks away from you and looks around his room quickly. For a bit, you almost think that he’s trying to see if you broke or stole anything. But, his eyes then stop right where his desk is. In two steps, Rafe slightly closes the door back up and is standing near the desk, eyeing something. He grabs whatever it is and turns back to you. Your pink pen.
“This one?” He asks in a rhetorical tone since he has just found the pen in the most obvious spot.
“Yes.” You say quickly, walking over to him, “I didn’t see it there for some reason.” You lie.
Rafe lets you take the pen from his hand and he looks down at you as you do it. You look at him hesitatingly, and your eyes meet. You’ve never stood this close to him. A mere foot away from each other, and it all feels… weird. Something you shouldn’t be doing.
“Thank you.” You tell him.
Your voice broke into a whisper right as you began to speak. Since the distance between the two of you is so short, it was easy for Rafe to hear every syllable. He looks down at you and admires your face for quite a bit.
Innocently, you wait for any sort of response from Rafe, but he never really does anything. You force yourself to look away from him as you continuously find yourself feeling intimidated, and Rafe continues to stare at you, awaiting your next move.
“I should probably get back to your sister.” You break the silence but don’t reconnect your eyes just yet.
As you take a step towards your exit, Rafe blocks the door with one step to the side. You look up at him to find some sort of short smirk on his face as he looks down at you. You’re not sure what he’s finding so entertaining all of a sudden, but as soon as you try to walk around him again, he blocks your way once more.
Before you can try it, Rafe takes a step forward, leaving you two to be extremely close to one another. You are about to take a step back, but Rafe opens his mouth to speak before you’re able to. He leans down slightly, making your faces stay close, and you stare back at him in a slight panic.
Your heart is beating quickly, his presence is making your skin heat up and your insides turn in familiar ways. You stare into his eyes in a way you’ve never done it before and hate how you find yourself admiring their color.
“What were you doing with my jacket?” He asks you, rudely snapping you awake.
Randomly, you look over your shoulder to the jacket behind you, forcing yourself to think of something that doesn’t sound as creepy as the real reason. You turn your head back to the front to find Rafe even closer to your face, now. Your heart pounds, and your mouth becomes dry.
“I- I…” You pause to compose yourself, “I was just straightening it.”
An actual smile appears on his face, and you force yourself to pay attention to what his next words will be. Instead of his stupid perfect smile - the one you’ve never seen before this day.
“Straightening it?” He repeats it as a question.
You nod quickly.
“Why?” He asks you, sounding genuinely confused, but his smile never breaks.
“I, uhm…” You scan through your thoughts for a stupid reason, “I like to organize stuff?”
You really tried to sound sincere with what you said but all it did was make it come out as a question. It actually sounds as if you are questioning yourself. Rafe stares at you as you break under his stare, all because of your own disappointment in your worst lie yet.
He stops smiling but still has a bit of a small grin. You can see it only because of how close you stand near him.
“Organizing stuff or just my stuff?” He asks you, and you stare at him in slight surprise.
You are awful at hiding your emotions. 
You decide to not answer his questions, knowing that you will incriminate yourself further if you keep going, and decide to also look away from him. You stare at the fabric of his polo shirt and try to ignore the faint scent of his cologne. Your insides squeeze themselves, and you ignore how your mind is severely thinking of non-appropriate ways of ending this conversation. Your friends would be disgusted if they even knew a fraction of it.
You stay quiet, and he hums in question to re-grab your attention. You look up at his eyes again, and you two stare at one another in silence. You can tell he’s looking at every bit of your face, but, most of the time, his eyes glance over your lips.
“I just felt like touching it.” You whisper extremely soft, admitting, yet not confident in your own words, “So, I touched it.”
He nods with a little bit of amusement growing on his face, and you suddenly feel embarrassment run its way through your body. You look away from him completely and over at the door, ready to leave the room.
“I should really g-” You begin to say, but Rafe stops you.
“No, no.” He frowns slightly, “No need to leave. We can talk for a little longer. I’m sure Wheezie is entertained.”
He’s strangely right. You gave her a quite big practice test, she might take a bit more time to be done with it than usual. But, at the same time, you don’t want to stay here for much longer.
Your brain has been telling you to run ever since he blocked the door. All while the whole rest of your body is screaming at the mere fact that Rafe Cameron is staring at you.
Rafe notices how you give him a somewhat confused look. His eyes move away from any other part of your face to look at your body quickly. He has seen you in dresses before, but he has never seen you in this dress.
Your nervous self, noticing his eyes over your body, does probably the most embarrassing thing you could think of and decides to open your mouth. You don’t want the conversation to die out awkwardly, but, sometimes, you really shouldn’t say the first thing that comes to mind.
“It’s a new dress.” You let him know.
“I know.” Rafe tells you quickly, bringing his eyes back to yours, “Never saw you in this one before.”
If your heart could be beating any faster or harder, it would’ve killed you by now. You swallow your emotions, keeping yourself calm, and try not to overthink anything he just said. It’s not every day that your crush (the one no one should ever have, for their own safety) admits that he actually looks at you.
Your eyes light up in the most ridiculous way possible, and Rafe notices it. You open your mouth to ask him if he’s serious because it all seems like something out of your dreams but decide against it. Rafe doesn’t notice that, but he does stare at your mouth once more. He moves his head a little. He gets closer to you, and you, without even thinking, do the first thing that comes to your head.
Your lips touch Rafe’s in a matter of a second and you are able to catch Rafe by surprise. It takes him just short seconds to react, and even when those seconds were the slowest ones you’ve ever experienced, what came next, sure made up for it.
His hands are quick and they grab onto your waist, pulling you against him. The soft fabric of your dress is tight to your torso, and he can feel the warmth of your skin from underneath.
The room is silent but all you can hear is the sounds of the kissing. The kiss was so innocent, at first. Lips to lips, which obviously became a makeout session that is progressively getting more and more heated. Rafe's intentions before this weren't to kiss you, but simply to tease you. This result wasn't what he expected, yet he's not backing out now.
One of your hands stays over Rafe’s shoulder, while the other one is on the back of his head. You can feel his shorter hair underneath your hand. The same hair you’ve seen from afar for so long and always wanted to touch.
Rafe’s hands are rough as they hold onto you, but you don’t mind it one bit. It’s different from what you’ve ever experienced before with other guys, but you like it.
Rafe makes the two of you move without disconnecting your lips, and, with a few slow steps, you feel the desk hit the back of your legs.
Rafe pulls away from the kiss and begins to kiss down your jaw and neck. Your insides are burning with everything that is going on and that seems to make every touch feel better than it naturally would. The flame is overall pleasure. The same one that seems to appear whenever you have to correct yourself for being attracted to the man kissing you because... he is not a good man.
You gasp at the sensation of Rafe’s lips over a sensitive spot on your neck and he hears it, reacting by giving the same spot a bite before moving back to your lips.
You comfortably lean back on the desk while your lips and tongues touch again and you feel Rafe’s hands pull on the fabric of your dress. You pull away from the kiss, slightly startled, and Rafe looks down at you.
“We can’t.” You whisper at him.
“No one will know.”
His breath hits your lips and you look over at the door, the same one that isn’t completely closed and has a little bit of a crack facing the other side of the room. You bring your eyes back to Rafe and he hasn’t moved. You give him a short nod and you notice an emotion wash over his face before he speaks.
“Just try and be quiet.”
He brings you back to the kiss after those words and it’s sad to say that you really didn’t need any more convincing after that. He kisses you for a few more seconds before doing what he was doing before.
Rafe pulls on the dress’s skirt, pulling it up over your hips, and you can hear your own heart in your ears, pounding over whatever situation you’re finding yourself in. The fabric comes up completely over your hips and stays by your waist. You almost jump at the feeling of Rafe’s hands over your naked skin, but that only made you pull him closer by his head to deepen the kiss.
His hands squeeze at the flesh on your hips and, when he lets go, one of his hands moves over to push your underwear down. The breeze coming from the open window hits your warm skin and you feel the burning of your insides worsen by the second.
Your underwear falls to the ground after Rafe pulls away from the kiss to do that, and you gasp against his mouth as soon as his hand lays over your inner thigh. He smiles against your lips and, with one finger through your slit, he feels how wet you are.
Rafe looks down at you as his finger moves and his smile worsens when he sees how your expression changes when he finds your clit. His finger begins to circle it slowly, making a good amount of pressure, just to see the reaction that you give him, and when your mouth opens, Rafe fastens it. You breathe heavily at the sensation and cling onto his shirt while you lean back on the desk.
“Feels good?” He asks in a whisper and you nod, right away.
Rafe smiles and slides his finger away. Your expression changes into quick disappointment, but Rafe moves down over to your soaked entrance, letting his finger slide with extreme ease inside you. His fingers are bigger than yours, and you sense the difference right away.
You let out a breathy moan, and Rafe muffles it with his kiss. He moves his finger back and forth slowly and then easily slides in his ring finger as well. The end of his palm moves over your clit as his movements remain slow and he continues with his mouth near yours, muffling whatever loud sound you let out.
He looks down at your face, already frowned with pleasure, and you look back at him. It’s a sight he swore he would never see but in his dreams. He was wrong. So very wrong.
Rafe quickens his fingers, finally, and now the silence of the room is broken with the sounds of your wetness whenever he moves. The squelching worsens as he curves them. His fingers move quickly, going back and forth, and your moans get breathier and, slowly, turn into whimpers of pleasure.
The sounds themselves almost make Rafe feel lightheaded, like some sort of drug he is just first experiencing and he loves every second of it. Your hold on his shoulder moves over to his hair, and he notices that even though you pull at it, you’re gentle, much gentler than him.
The bubble of pleasure begins to grow on your lower stomach and Rafe lifts his other hand from your hip to play with your clit. With his two fingers ramming into your wet cunt, his movements get quicker and much, much rougher. His circling of your clit is fast, enough for you to almost let out a loud moan, but you beat yourself to it by closing your mouth tightly. Your breathing is heavy and uncontrollable and your orgasm is already so near.
“Rafe.” You let out a broken whisper while looking up at him.
He only moves his hands quicker this time and he looks at you in absolute bliss when you hold yourself from moaning all over again. The squelching noises are just enough to drive him to final insanity. His fingers are soaked to his knuckles and he swears that he doesn’t ever want to stop moving his fingers inside of you.
He curves them and scissors a few times and, finally, finds and touches a specific spot inside of you. He has his lips on yours, muffling your obvious moans, this time, and you cry out into his mouth.
“Wanna cum?” He asks against your lips in a low tone.
You nod at him quickly, giving him a look that almost drives the man feral. He kisses you again, making you just moan at the mere feeling of his lips and tongue against yours, and he decides to let you have it.
“Then do it, princess.” He whispers against your swollen lips before doing some last absurdly quick thrusts with his hand and driving you over the edge. “Come all over my fingers.”
Your whole body explodes with pleasure, and Rafe muffles your moans with the best of his ability, yet never stops his hands. The flame you have felt burning deep in your body finally ascends enough throughout your limbs and fingertips, and you close your eyes, letting yourself be taken over by it.
You slowly come back, and Rafe slows down to a stop. You open your eyes slowly and feel the warmth of your body descend. You feel like you're shaking all over. Rafe looks down at you as you slowly come back from the intense orgasm, and you look back at him. Your eyes have this type of dazed look over them. Your chest moves up and down slower than before.
He pulls his fingers out of you slowly and you bite your lips to keep quiet, feeling sensitive to his touch. You look down at his wet fingers, and Rafe’s mind sparks with an idea. He brings his fingers to your mouth, and you open it almost right away. His fingers are taken by the warmth of your mouth and you suck them clean.
Rafe pulls his hand away and quickly kisses you, tasting you in your own mouth. He groans against your lips and your other hand comes to cling onto his polo on his chest.
A door at the end of the hallway opens and you two separate from the kiss right away. Rafe pulls down the skirt of your dress and helps you lean away from the desk. 
The footsteps are heard over the hardwood flooring but they soon disappear when they're near the stairs. You look back at Rafe when the sound disappears and you watch him as he adjusts your dress ever so slightly before looking back up at your face.
“I still need my underwear.” You whisper at him.
“No, you don’t.” He tells you.
You look at him with widened eyes, and he smiles down at you. He moves away to grab something from the ground and you look down to see that it’s your pink pen. You grab it, and he looks down at you.
“I should go.”
He doesn’t say anything but looks down at you, and, this time, you don’t find yourself intimidated from being under his stare, even when a smirk begins to grow on his face. A sudden urge fills in your chest as you’re about to walk away and a question repeats in your mind. What if this was just a one-time thing? Is it over now?
You stop yourself from moving, reach him, and kiss Rafe one last time, following your urge. He kisses back, and you notice how you pull yourself closer to him, having your body glued to his. His hands come back to you and they squeeze roughly onto your body. It’s strange to like touch as rough as his, but you're beginning to need it whenever you're near him.
You pull away from the kiss with a little proud smile. Rafe is only able to get a glimpse of it before you turn around and leave the room. You walk down the hallway and disappear into his sister's bedroom.
Rafe walks and closes his door, bringing his hands to his face. It has been so long since he first wanted this, and, now, he finally had it. He can still feel your soft lips against his, your fingers on his hair, your moans repeating in his ears, and your warm skin under his palms.
He groans to himself at the mere thought of some things that seem to be engraved in his mind and uncovers his face. He stares at the floor for a few seconds in absolute silence, still thinking, and something catches his eye.
He closes his eyes as he takes a deep breath and reopens them to look at the open window. The breeze touches his face and his mind runs loose, worse than ever before. He's not done with you.
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It's finally posted!! Do you like this type of story? Pls let me know, I have a lot more ideas for this universe - 2 of which are already written. Hope you enjoyed this <3
Masterlist ~ Ask box
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the shroud parents
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Okay, so I’ve been thinking about this for a while 🤔: “Why are the Shroud parents so warm and loving when the impression we had of them from Idia are so... negative?” And then I realized it’s very obviously because CHARACTERS CAN BE UNRELIABLE NARRATORS.
Like. That does NOT mean that what happened to the characters didn’t actually happen. The events very obviously DID happen as described (especially as it pertains to post-OB flashbacks), but it’s how the characters tell the information that paints the perception of events and how certain elements are presented or omitted entirely.
***Content warning: I briefly mention a few dark topics under the cut (including suicidal ideation and depression) and link to a related post on those topics!!***
As an example, let’s look at the Shroud parents. Idia previously described his grandma and dad as being very gloomy and negative people. He also says his parents as being the types to value results over their children’s feelings. We also notably do not see Mr. or Mrs. Shroud in Idia’s backstory flashback when he was going through a difficult patch of coping with Ortho’s death. This all led to us having an impression that the Shroud parents were cold, distant, calculating, and just overall not very good parents. Then we meet the parents in book 7 and Mrs. Shroud is SUPER bubbly, and both parents readily welcome Ortho as an official member of the family. It’s a huge juxtaposition which completely recontextualizes the information Idia previously gave us.
Idia is Mr. Doom and Gloom, a huge pessimist. It could be possible that he was greatly exaggerating elements of his parents’ personalities, usually when it pertains to them asking him to do something he doesn’t want to (ie pulling him out of school to research on his classmates). Alternatively, it’s implied that he barely left his room for two years following Ortho’s death. The lack of the Shroud parents in Idia’s flashback could indicate that as their own method of coping, they distanced themselves or they gave Idia space to heal on his own. Or maybe Idia was even the one who actively shut his parents out? It’s extremely possible, especially given that there are theories floating around that Idia’s memories and thoughts are greatly impacted by grief, depression, and/or suicidal ideation.
This makes me kind of want to go back and reevaluate all the other OB boys’ flashbacks and see just how much of the information could have been colored by the bias and the perspectives of the storytellers 🤔 POV actually adds a LOT to whatever is being told!! Like you can tell in Riddle’s flashback that even though he now knows his mom’s parenting has fucked him up, he doesn’t appear to hold any ill will toward her. He’s moreso confused and unsure how to proceed, feelings which are perfectly encapsulated by Riddle asking why his chest still hurts, even though he has followed every rule his mom has set for him. As a result, Riddle is shown to be a lot more hesitant and charitable to his mother compared to other people.
Interestingly, fans are quick to bypass Riddle’s own neutral telling of his story and demonize his mother (I think maybe because his circumstances are more relatable?), whereas with Idia he tells us the worst of his parents and it paints our ideas about the Shroud parents in accordance with Idia’s telling.
I also wonder if the fandom’s assumption that Leona’s whole country despises him or that Azul’s mom didn’t know about him being bullied is true at all??? Because if you think about it, Leona’s flashbacks only ever depicted palace servants talking badly about him, which are not representative of all of the Sunset Savanna. We don’t meet locals that speak badly of Leona in his hometown event either??? Then for Azul’s flashback, you can’t really take omission of information as confirmation of anything.
This line of thought also applies for the information the boys relay to us; how much of it is embellished or slightly altered in order to project a certain outward image to their peers? Especially considering how NRC is teeming with (mob) students ready to pounce on you if you seem weak??? It’s really interesting stuff to think about.
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writersundersiege · 2 months
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The New Girl in Town Pt 5
Rafe Cameron x F! Reader
a/n: Woah, okay, so this one is a little longer. One, it’s formatted differently; it gives you more perspective of what’s happening. Also, I’m trying to follow Rafe's season one character arc and overall story, knowing now you guys are enjoying the series. I know where I want to go now, but if you guys don’t like how long this is, let me know, and I’ll free-write it and go based on my arc for him and the characters, not on canon events. Please let me know what you think; much love and enjoy!
Summary: The hurricane has hit the Outerbanks, and with a storm that’s torn up Kilandre, emotions seem to be on high. Rafe is still trying to recover from you walking out without saying anything to him. In contrast, you prepare to attend your first Boneyard Kegger. What happens when everything goes wrong? Who do you call when there is no one else to turn to in your town? Will anyone show up when you need them?
MDNI 18+
Warnings: Storms, grief, death, insinuation of sexual themes, violence, weapons, swearing, drug use, and drug abuse, as well as some slight talks of addiction.
After receiving a text, Rafe sits up thinking about yesterday, and his eyes widen, thinking only of the generators now. He scrambles to text a few of his Kook friends to see if anyone can help a man out when Kelce speedily responds that he’s got him; no worries and was planning on dropping by with Topper anyway for Sarah, but they’ll come to help him first.
Half an hour later, Topper and Kelce are helping Rafe quickly set up a generator, but little does he know you are just around the corner because the day before, Scooter had helped the Cameron family storm prep for their boat. Still, before going to Tannyhill, Scooter had helped Charlie prep The Hut since it was your dad's first big hurricane.
Ward was cleaning up fallen tree branches when he heard his name called out, “Hello, Mr.Cameron.” he looked up to see a girl he didn’t know with a worrisome look on your face and holding Lana, Scooter's wife, gently rubbing her shoulder. Ward stood to be able to see you both fully.
Ward quickly leads Lana to Sarah, and you let her know you’ll wait out front to take her wherever she may need to go; she shakes her head and walks off with Ward. As you stand to wait, one of the yard workers takes his opportunity to saunter toward you and strike up a conversation.
Little to your knowledge from below, but standing on the edge of the balcony near the side of the house were Rafe and his friends looking down on you as you laughed and conversed with the boy, probably a few years older than you.
As Rafe watched you in pure bliss, seeming to enjoy the conversation between you, he felt himself brimming with annoyance when suddenly, your head quickly wiped to the front door not far from the boys standing on the balcony just below them to the side.
The three boys watch as you abandon the ongoing conversation with the yard worker boy to take the spot right at Lana’s shoulder; this makes Rafe smirk, watching the boy's displeased face watch you.
Heedlessly to the boy, you walk with Lana back to the road, patting her back and smiling softly at her; they can’t make out what exactly you’re saying, but they all equally watch as you disappear, as usual, into the horizon line, taking a glimpse of the sunlight in your wake until you randomly appear again.
The rest of the day, Rafe didn’t see or hear from you, but he assumed, with how bad the storm was and all the cleanup, that you had other worries than explaining running out on him.
Technically, he’s nothing more than another boy on the new island you call home. These thoughts make him unsound and intolerable. So he glances at the sea momentarily, wondering if you are also glancing at the rolling waves.
Rafe had been doing meaningless things to fill the time; he received a few texts from friends and past hooks-ups about the kegger at the boneyard and another party not too far from Top’s House, and Rafe didn’t want to go to either; he sat and thought for a while, and he then decided to grab some coke from Barry, and then he’ll head out to ride his bike around and clear his head or play a round of golf at the Country Club.
By the time Rafe got ready to waste time, he had thought about maybe stopping by the boneyard; he knew if it were a kegger, there would be pogues swarming that place, and they always picked with shit they didn’t want in the end. He shakes his head, knowing it is ridiculous to want to go even if you are there.
It was about midday when he went downstairs, and he heard Rose and Ward talking; he rounded the kitchen corner to them, shaking their heads. “What happened?” Rafe frowns, looking at his father for more information. “Scooter Grubbs has been found dead. He was out during the hurricane; his boat went down, and he was washed into the marsh.”
Rafe checked his phone immediately to see if there was anything from you, and nothing, just a bunch of messages from Emma asking when they could see each other again; this made Rafe roll his eyes. He continued grabbing a drink from the fridge, stuffing it in his bag, heading out to the garage, and taking out his bike to head to the Cut.
On the other side of the island, you and your family had a considerable hoard of people at your house accepting water bottles and non-perishable foods at a table in your yard with your parents.
At the same time, you sat in the back of the house with Lana Grubbs, who you’ve just returned with from the marina who just lost her husband. You sit slowly, rubbing up and down her upper back, not saying anything; slow resounds of what seems to be Sparks by Coldplay are playing in the surround sound house speakers, most likely through your mom's playlist.
You don’t say anything; what do you say to her? You’ve also lost someone to those raging waves in front of you, watching with her as its tide pulls it up to shore and back out into the sea off to who knows where.
The situation you have both been through has no words to say, so you sit and listen to the music playing through the sound system, humming lightly and listening to the small crash of waves.
You think about Luca, how he never failed to be there precisely when you needed him. Without fail, if something inspired you to make something or do something new, Luca would show up with everything you needed to create what you envisioned. If you so much as thought you were bored, he was knocking at your front door asking to take you to laser tag, the movies, or on beach picnics. The day you turned fifteen, he asked you to be his Valentine.
Luca also made a tradition that year of getting you flowers on the 14th day of every month; he was always cheesy and would say, why should he only show his love one day in the year? But he did every 14th day of every month for nearly four years.
The only thing that broke you from the reminiscent thoughts of a boy you’ll never get the joy of loving again is the slight creaking of the door frame; you turn to see your brother's sad, smiling face.
 “Hey, Kiddo, I’ve got to head to the airport. I’m taking Dad and the car. I just wanted to check on you girls to see if you’d like to head home or maybe the place they may have Scooter and see if they’ll let you see him. Mom called your sister, so she’s said to let her know, and she’ll meet you wherever you are.”
Lana’s head pops up, eyes completely bloodshot, looking between you and your brother, eyes resting tenderly on you, reaching to brush a piece of your (H/C) hair out of your eyes and turning to your brother, shaking her head to your brother, “I think I need to go home for a little while” She stands and starts to fold the blanket you had tossed over her shoulders when you came in.
Swiftly, you grab it from her, coaxing her towards Jason, whose hand is laid open; she looks back and forth between you two. “You two are an extraordinary pair of kids,” Jason chuckled, bringing his hand out a little further until she accepted it, and he wrapped her hand around his opposite arm to walk her out. Quietly, he told Lana, “We’re only doing what we hope others would do for us.”
Before she walked out, you called out, “Mrs. Lana!” she and Jason turned to you. You smiled sadly and said, “I hope you know you’re always welcome here for any reason, and thank you for allowing me to be there for you.”
Quickly, she walked forward to you, more tears in her eyes as she hugged you, saying, “Oh sweet girl, I hope someone gives you the world one day.” then she turned back to Jason and started walking out. Jason watches you in his perephislas to see you smile sadly while looking at the sea.
He knows where your mind is again. He turns towards Lana and quickly leads her to Charlie, standing just outside by the Impala. Charlie sees the look in Jason’s eyes as he takes her hand to help her in the car, sending his son a slight nod, and he turns on his heel and runs right back to you on the couch.
When Jason reenters the room, he sees you right where he left you. He quickly picks you up from your sitting position on the couch in a big hug, making you laugh; you go utterly limp in his arms, but hanging your arms around his neck, he sets you down.
Jason puts his hands on your shoulders, looking you straight in the eyes and giving you his this is serious look. “I love you, Kiddo, always okay. You need me. I’ll be on a plane the next day, but take the mantra and make it real (N/N); ride the wave, okay?” with that, he kisses the top of your head and runs out of the house before you can say anything, but now you sit smiling at the waves until your phone pings with a text.
Sarah 🎀🦋: Hey, want to come over and get ready with me? Then you can ride with Kelce?
(F/N)🗺️☀️: Sure, I think I remember him from when I moved in. I’ll be over in about 15. I am going to make a little to-go bag to get ready.
You run up the stairs to your door, throwing it open and digging under your bed for an old black Jansport backpack. In years past, it was used for traveling, so there were patches and pins from countless cities, airports, countries, and historic monuments.
One thing about your family is that traveling is what has made you the way you are. Your mother is a Historian; she is constantly looking for discoveries, a go-getter who never gives up, and she is strong; she can be your saving grace, but she can be your nightmare if you make her.
Then there is your sweet father, who by most people's accounts can be considered as any other clean-cut, white-collar businessman, but your dad loves people and human communication; he’s a charmer or character; he’s the type of man that you can take anywhere, and he is the life of the party. His whole life, he was told he could charm the pants off a dolphin, and he’s shown that time and time again.
Traveling has been a part of your life for as long as you can remember; with two people of your parent's personality, there was no way you could stay in one place, so at nineteen, you’ve been almost everywhere. See so many things. You have met so many people. Yet you’re constantly searching for that piece that clicks in the puzzle. All across the world and in 50 states, you’re still searching for something.
You’re broke from your thoughts when your phone pings again with another message.
Sarah 🎀🦋: Do you want to stay the night? Our AC has been out from the storm, and I was going to sleep on the Druthers tonight; it’s somewhat eerie at night but soothing. Let me know! :)
You quickly shove clothes in the bag for bed and tomorrow and pull your nightstand drawer open, where you graze for your travel makeup bag, brush, and wallet.
Then you run to your closet, picking out a cute bikini with some denim shorts that are so old you can’t even remember where you bought them and an old Malibu beach lifeguard zip-up. You quickly pulled on your white, beat-up old school vans and laced them up.
Lastly, before you text Sarah, you walk to your dresser and look up at the picture of you on Luca's shoulder; you smile and pick up the shell necklace with the ring on it; you had taken it off during clean-up to be sure it was safe.
As you run your thumb over the ring, you whisper to it like it was him, “You and me to the Big Dipper and back.” Then you slowly unhook the necklace, take the ring, and hang it on the same tack that the necklace was before returning the necklace to your neck, kissing your fingers, and touching them to Luca's face
You run and grab your bag, smile on your face, bag slug haphazardly over your shoulder, running out to tell your parents you're off to hang out with Sarah the rest of the day and spend the night. As you ran down the stairs, you responded back
(F/N)🗺️☀️: It sounds like a plan for all of it, be there in 10!
As you quickly run out to the table in your front yard, your parents are cleaning up and putting away the morning of aid they were providing; your dad turns your way when he hears your steps bounding down the front porch towards him.
You run up, placing a kiss on his cheek, saying, “Hanging out with Sarah. Be back tomorrow sometime,” running off, kissing your mom on the head and scurrying towards your Jeep, throwing your bag in and backing out, driving off as quickly as you said goodbye to your parents honking twice to say goodbye once more your parents just share a smile shaking their heads continuing their clean up to return to the house.
As you drove down the messy roads of Kilandre County, you looked around at the new place you were supposed to call home. So far, the waves have been great; it’s been helping inspire some board designs to show your dad. The community service committee seems very put together and involved, which makes you feel better about being here; leaving the YMCA back home for you was super hard. Leaving all the friends you grew up with, all the places you knew like the back of your hand, yours and Lucas's corner of the sky, your spot.
When you went driving across the country to get here, you were so scared you were going to hate it, watching each state grow from ocean to dust, then to plains and green forest, and eventually an island.
While driving through the Cut, you passed quaint homes, each corner of the lawn filled with different yard decorations all across the grasses, wind chimes hanging on porches creating musicality of pitches to sound through the sticky heat, painted bottles, and clay decorations hanging from strings attached to the large tree branches swaying delicately in the afternoon breeze.
Before you knew it, you crossed the bridge to Figure 8, driving through the enormous houses that reminded you of your old summer home in Maine.
Yards, Houses, Cars, and even dogs in the yards are perfectly manicured; everything on this side looks completely uniform and like someone specifically placed them like Monopoly houses on a game board. You were pulling up to your new so-called home immediately, seeing all the wealthy families and their kids in the area swarming for a look at the new kid.
You had lived in Malibu all your life but knew what it was like being the new kid. From early on in your life, actions paired with words affected you significantly. It’s like they latch on to your brain, and anything wrong you say or someone says to you would never escape your mind; it would play like DVD on replay, looping over until you felt you had it right, but it was always too late, it had already happened.
Being in-person for school was never really a place for you, not because you didn’t like the classes but because being around that many people constantly that you’d grown up with, they know you, and they understand your stories; they look for any way to tear into you.
People didn’t make it easy to forget what childhood was like for you. Honestly, girls at school were the biggest problem, starting squandering rumors that would spread and humiliate you, making it too difficult to go back every day.
Suddenly, you were at the next school, trying again. Still, the ones who didn’t stick by you initially would make it their mission to break you into tiny pieces. The only part that always got you through was going home and knowing no matter what, Luca would be there; he, indeed, was the epitome of the words prince charming.
The thoughts spiraling through your head halt as you see the prominent white balconies of Tannyhill. You pull into the driveway and park to the side so you won’t block anyone in or out, and you hop out and scurry to the front door; right as you are about to knock on the enormous front door, it opens, and you almost hit the man standing in front of you.
Standing in the front door foyer is Ward Cameron smiling at you, saying, “Hello, you’re from earlier; how can I help you? How’s Lana?” you smile brightly back at the man sticking out your hand. “Hello, Mr. Cameron, I’m (F/N). Also, she’s not great, but she’s home.” he happily takes your outstretched hand, and before you can say anything else, Sarah sees you from the top of the stairs, calling your name and running down.
Ward steps out of the way and motions for you to come inside, and once you step into the house, you're nearly knocked right back out onto the porch because of the force of Sarah hugging you. She grabs your hand and drags you up the stairs, saying, “Come on, I have so much to tell you.”
You both run giggling up the stairs, and you turn back with your hand still in Sarah’s; the other waves back to Ward, looking at him and saying, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Cameron,” and before he can even say anything you’ve turned back going full speed to Sarah’s room whispering something to her that has you both throwing your heads back euphoric playful laughter erupts echoing through the halls of Tannyhill.
Ward smiles to think Sarah has found a good friend to be around who is like her—walking off into another part of the house to go through the insurance policies, looking for things that may need to be repaired or replaced from the storm.
Usually, down the hall from where you are now, Rafe's room sits empty as he makes his way to Emma’s house because, being the feeble man he is, all of the drugs he keeps doing and the thoughts of you overwhelm him.
Rafe feels he needs an outlet for it, and she’s there, and she’s salacious and unwavering, so he caved, and now he drives over to her house as you and Sarah dance around her room to “Our Song” by Taylor Swift.
The things he misses by allowing the anger to consume him will melt this man into a puddle.
If it weren't for a shred of fate being on Rafe's side that he didn’t have any condoms, and neither did Emma per her message that he stopped at Tannyhill on the way to the other side of the Country Club where she lives.
When he entered the house, he heard the girl's voices echoing through the house singing; one of them sounded like they were harmonizing with the singer on the speaker, which made Rafe frown, knowing there was no way that was Sarah she couldn’t sing in harmony she’s not horrible, but she’s also not a singer.
He made his way to Sarah’s door, which was only one down from his, to see you holding a makeup brush in your hand like a microphone, and now, through the halfway open door, he could hear you, the one harmonizing to the words ideally like you’ve done it a million times Sarah’s is laughing, singing, dancing around her bed frame. Rafe just watched as you completely acted like you were a performer and you were entertaining millions, but lucky for him, it was a personal show.
He stands, watching as you pull Sarah to her bed to stand with you, hurriedly grabbing another makeup brush and handing it to Sarah, standing back up and getting back into character, singing the words, ‘I got to the hallway, well on my way to my loving bed.’ you spin around singing, ‘I almost didn’t notice all the roses and the note that said’ grabbing Sarah and making her spin not so gracefully. She falls on her butt, laughing at herself. You, on the other hand, he watches as you gracefully dance on the bed, the sheets getting wrapped around your ankles.
Nothing would have mattered at that moment because the world was yours, and he was watched on ardently, hoping to be him in there one day with you dancing the sheets off his bed and screeching music like a band of banshees.
Sarah hops down, watching, dancing, singing along as you sing your heart out on her bed. Sarah loved hanging out with you; it was like she was constantly learning something; when people are around you for some reason, you help them remember what it’s like to feel alive.
You are continually laughing with people, listening when needed, or lifting the mood. You are the epitome of the word euphoria, which is nearly the identical thought Rafe has watching you sing total volume in the last post-chorus. Rafe concentrates on how your voice flows over the notes easily; it’s tangible that you’ve done all this before, and Rafe can’t help but feel his heart skip a beat or two just thinking about how often you may do this.
You dance on the bed joyfully, taking advantage of the fact that Sarah’s bed doesn’t sink as much as your cause of the number of times you’ve done exactly what you’re doing now. The entire time you knew, Rafe stood an arm’s length away in the hall, watching that only spurred you to have more fun, knowing the stoic boy you see constantly has some light underneath, and you’ve made it your mission to try and get a smile from him anytime you see him.
Until the end starts to come, you mimic what the singer is saying, taking your hair down and dropping to your knees on the bed, acting like you're writing on a paper and handing it to Sarah; she accepts it, which makes you both start laughing while the next song starts to play on the speaker, and that’s when Sarah looks up to see Rafe standing there.
“Ugh- go be a creep somewhere else, Rafe, like I don’t know,” she lifts her chin evilly; “oh, how about I do know, Emma’s house? You should go there this time since I don’t feel like getting sick every five minutes from all the shit. I hear over in that death trap you call a room,” she says all this as she’s stalking to the door, you sit on the bed wide-eyed and like someone who’s watching an episode of a reality series. You’re waiting for the heartbreaks and the chaos.
Rafe meets Sarah at her door, and before she can close it in his face, he braces his arm, pushes the door in, and puts his foot in the door frame so she can’t shut it, meeting her eyes and saying in a sinister voice, “What did you just say.”
Sarah looks at him with no affliction and speaks quietly to only Rafe, “You heard me; if you want to be sicko with different girls all the time, at least do it somewhere else and not with my friends; goodbye.” She starts to push her door in, but before the door closes, he catches your eyes worried but aimed directly at him like they’re meant for him; looking back, he sees the white of Sarah’s door and the obnoxious attitude of his sister turning up the music so loud he can’t hear anything. Still, the minor tri tones of your and his sister's giggles mix with the melodies of the music.
Rafe strides to his room quickly and texts Emma that he had an emergency come up; he’ll see her around. She doesn’t reply, but Rafe doesn’t care as he lays on his bed listening to you through the wall, knowing your enchanted presence is filling the walls of the room just next door.
Rafe listens and can faintly hear you two giggling and singing at total volume as if a concert is happening in Sarah’s room at Tannyhill. This thought makes him smile sitting there, thinking about how every time he’s seen you, you seem to be heartily enjoying music and life or human connection. Everything about you seems so worldly, and he wants every single bit. 
Rafe doesn’t even know how long he listened to the girlish ruse happening in the other room. Until he hears the telltale tone of you and Sarah giggling, and it’s louder, and he hears her call, “Well, be back later, Dad. Love you, we are going out with Top.”
Rafe quickly ran and swung his door open, stumbling over to the railing just in time to see you and Sarah at the front door, and before he could think, he said so coldly, “Where do you think you’re going?” You and Sarah snap your heads to him, and he instantly feels so inarticulate as he watches you and his sister narrow your eyes at him till Sarah says, “Kegger, but you knew that.” she nudges you, which makes you laugh.
“Well…we know you have places to be, Rafe; we won’t keep you. See you later,” you say with so much insinuation behind your words and your face, but still, the pure, gentle smile and eye creases, he’s committed to memory.
The last thing Rafe sees is his smug sister's face staring at him, shrugging, mouthing ‘sorry, Charlie,’ adding a fake pout to throw the dig even further and slamming the front door behind her.
Rafe is nearly off the deep end now; he knew you were going to the boneyard you’d told him, but; he contemplated going; one thing is sure, the pouges always start shit, and he’s not trying to fight in front of you just yet, so Rafe did what he thought would clear his mind; he took his last bump. This only sent him into a further spiral, having him reach for his phone and revoke his text to Emma, telling her to come to Tannyhill now.
On the other hand, outside, you had run out the door before any more words were shared, running towards Kelce, who was standing in front of his Truck next to Tooper, running to him and jumping on his back, scaring the hell out of him until you start acting like the announcer of a ring fight making him laugh.
Sarah ran up, kissing Topper; you hopped into Kelce's truck, and he started it up quickly after you put on your seatbelt, pulling out before Topper even started his trucking, laughing, flipping him off, and mouthing the word loser.
After pulling out of Tannyhill, he handed you the aux, saying, “Alright, Mss. Muse, you’re always listening to some music when I see you, so why don’t you show me your favorite song?” You giddily take the cord and plug it into your phone, scrolling wildly back and forth, and then you look at him wide eyes, huffing out an irritated breath.
“This is hard,” you said with a pout; he laughed then sat a moment thinking and trying to keep his eyes forward but stealing glances every few moments to let you know he was paying attention, saying finally, “How about play me the song you can’t get out of your head right now.” that made your eyes widen even more if that was even possible it made you look like a child in a candy shop “Smart and also much easier.”
Quickly, you scrolled, pressing on a song, and you sat back. You both enjoy the drive to the beach, listening to “3 Nights” by Dominic Fike playing in the background, watching the trees and beach blur past in one. The sun was still shining through the trees, casting rays of light into the car.
You sit and think about beach parties back home, how everyone would go cliff jumping, cave diving, or anything; the kids back home were thrill seekers. Back home collectively, your friends and people you knew would participate in things that could almost nearly positively end up with a broken neck.
You roll the window down, leaning in it slightly, humming the song, pretending your hand is surfing over make-believe waves that is just wind rushing past you. You take big breaths of the salty sea air and let the sun's rays peek and flash through the trees, warming you as you smile and think about how precious life can be; in moments like this, you feel alive.
Halfway through the drive, you look over to Kelce, who’s faintly singing, which makes you start to sing to him, gesturing and pointing, saying, ‘Seems like you can use a little company from me.’ pointing back to yourself at the end looking at him waiting on him and he looks at you from the corner of his eyes smile proliferating across his face singing with you. You throw your head back, laughing in pure joy. After that, you both get into the song, enjoying your time and dancing and being silly to the songs that play through after—enjoying each other's company and the drive.
Once you arrive at the boneyard location, Kelce parks by some Jeeps, Mercedes, and Trucks, waiting for Topper to get there, still listening to music and having a grand time. You and Kelce are enjoying yourself so much you don’t even notice when Sarah and Topper have not only walked over to Kelce's truck but are now watching through the front window; you and Kelce sing back and forth to an imaginary microphone in your hand singing to what was so obvious to hear as ‘Stay with me’ by Sam Smith that Kelce was going in on it wholeheartedly.
The only thing that broke the car concert was Topper knocking on Kelce's window, making the other boy look at him like a deer during hunting season, frozen and petrified. This makes everyone laugh as you turn down the music and open the door where Sarah steps into the opening, leaning over you to Kelce, saying, “Bravo, Encore, I never knew you were such a performer.” his cheeks are entirely red. Topper has his hand on his shoulder. “C’mom big guy, don’t let them bully you just cause you have a prettier voice than them.”
This makes the group laugh as they all make their way out and away from the truck. Kelce lightly shoved Topper. “She’s just got a good playlist; you try to have banger after banger play and not sing. I want to see you try.” Sarah shakes her head in agreement and laughs; she adds, “It’s true (F/N) is very good at choosing music.”
You run in front of the whole group and bow like an actress at the end of the play, saying, “Thank you. I take my playlist very seriously.” With that, your back is turned to the group, heading straight into the swarm of people's heads; the crowd seemed drawn like moths to a flame, turning to your greetings, and you facing all the new people, giving them all with your prize-winning smile.
Through the evening, you talk to tons of people; you learn they group people here in the Outerbanks, which you don’t like because we are all human, but apparently, you learn from one boy that you're something known as a kook cause you live in Figure 8.
You had to think briefly: your dad is well off, but you don’t see yourself as rich. Your parents worked hard for what they had, and the same was expected of you, and that’s what you will do: work hard and succeed.
As the night starts to take over, the sun creates light hues of color on the horizon. You end up bumping into Kiara, whom you met briefly at the clothes drive. “(F/N)(L/N), right?” she asks; you shake your head, saying back to her, “You must be Kiara; sorry we didn’t get more chance to speak at the drive. I caught the flu,” You say shyly, knowing the response is inaccurate. She brushes it off quickly, stating, “No deal; your brother is awesome, and what you planned was amazing. Hey, do you wanna come sit with me for a bit?” you agreed and followed her.
The conversation with Kiara was insightful; you not only met her friends JJ, John B, and Pope, who came from the Cut, but all the boys seemed nice, albeit maybe a little wayward. You learned about some turtle habit construction happening from Kiara and when they will do a turtle release next month;
She asked If you wanted to join her, so you agreed and gave her your contact information so that you guys could contact each other; you sat and talked to Pope for a bit of time about your aspirations and his for the future learning that he wants to be a mortician.
What causes you to press forward into finding Sarah is your conversation with John B. You learned that six months ago. His father also went missing, and he desperately wanted to see him again and believed he was out there still.
This struck a chord in your heart like buildings tumbling down during a demolition; it made your stomach and chest constrict. It made you immediately think of Luca and Cameron and if they could still be out there waiting for somebody, anybody, to come and get them.
You politely excuse yourself from John B in the end, pushing through the crowd, looking for Sarah and Top, finding them near the fire, whispering to each other, and walking straight toward you. When you walk up, Sarah turns, seeing your face looking slightly distraught, asking you what is happening.
When you start to speak, you are cut off slightly by a gasp of air; then, without thinking, you ask, “Where is Kelce?” they look at you and say he left; you shake your head and walk off to sit a moment, and Sarah follows closely dragging Top kneeling by you saying “C’mon will stand in the waves and be at one with the sea.” Sarah reaches her hand out to you, which makes you smile hesitantly; grabbing her hand and standing to walk with her and Topper, who now looks slightly more annoyed than the previously presented concern.
As the three of you walk toward the water, you get stopped by JJ, one of Kiara's friends you didn’t have the opportunity to talk to. JJ waltzed straight up to Sarah after saying something to John B. and asked, “Sarah, can I interest you in a tasty Milwaukee beverage.” she politely declined, and he turned to you and said, “New girl? wanna give it a try?” raising an eyebrow at you curiously you shake your head smiling shyly saying “I’m good-“ he cuts you off saying “What is not fancy enough for you ladies,”
Standing there stunned, you are looking at him with a questioning look like you are not entirely sure what’s happening, all while Topper does his best to diffuse the situation, finally saying, “Hey, you know what? I’ll take it” saying gratitude to the other boy trying to take the cup from his hands you sharply heard JJ say “that’s nice, but I didn’t ask you if you said pretty please maybe” you could tell JJ was trying to get under Topper's skin and get a rise
Topper starts mimicking JJ's words under his breath, all while JJ continues to talk, and Sarah tries to calm them down. You and John B stand, staring at the situation from either side, wondering where to start. Suddenly, Topper smacks the cup of liquid into JJ's face, and the boys are at each other swiftly. JJ grabs Topper by the collar immediately; John B pulls the two boys apart, being proactive, trying to calm JJ down as Topper yells back at them, “Dirty Pouges!” 
This makes John B immediately turn and shove him back, chaos breaking loose as you wince slightly, thinking back to how bonfires were back home drama and gossip; yeah, that happened, but this is already out of hand over something as small as a drink.
In a moment, the boys are throwing punches and stumbling back toward the water, fighting each other, and Topper gets the upper hand on John B. You gasp slightly and move past the front of the crowd that was created around where you all once stood to be next to Sarah who is begging Topper to stop and that she wanted to go home
When John B rolls back into the water after a kick to the gut, Topper yells, “Hey, John B, don’t make me drown you like your old man., all right?” this makes you scoff in disgust at your new friend's boyfriend, who when you look into her face she looked just as disheartened by him right now.
As you looked back up, John B propelled back forward as a flurry of energy hit him, and they kept going; it was hard for you to watch; you only looked over twice once when John B yelled, completely enraged in his voice. “Come on, Topper! Let Go! Come on!” looking back over at the waves, wincing when you heard any hard contact. You looked again when you heard Sarah scream, “No, Topper, Stop!”
You look up to Topper, who is drowning John B. You don’t even stop before stepping forward from where you held Sarah’s shoulder, pressing back and using her body to pull you in front.
You place her protectively behind you, and like approaching a wounded animal or scared dog, you call, “Hey, Topper.” at first, nothing, then a big step that causes a small splash at your feet, you’re shoes getting completely soaked.
Everyone in the crowd is silent; you take one more small step, still far enough away that you’re not in reach, but if Topper surged forward, he would surely be able to take you down into the water as well, but again, you tried.
“Hey, Top, Look at me.” this time, your tone was harsher and firmer, like your brother used with you today when he left back for school or like how your mother used when she told you to do your homework as a child
Nothing Topper kept taunting John B, pushing and pulling his head up and down from the water, essentially drowning the boy right in front of your eyes. Your eyes slightly started to well with tears. Sarah from the side called one more time, “Topper!” one more time to no avail. Shaking your head a moment, looking to Sarah, who looks back, both of you look crestfallen; you only look when you hear gasps.
You look up to see JJ walking up with something in his hand, and then you recognize the black steel-looking object, a gun; the world stills. You don’t hear anything; you observe JJ's movements, standing frosted to your spot; you watch the weapon being pressed to the back of Topper's head, which makes the blood run cold through your body, probing your mind for anything you can do at this moment but can’t. None of these people know you; they aren’t going to listen to you. You still can’t hear what the boys are saying over all the commotion happening behind you and within you.
What can be told is Kiara and Sarah are yelling, and you’re standing there shocked at what is even unfolding in front of you when you thought of a beach kegger; this is never what you would have imagined; it all boiling up to what’s happening You hear Sarah yell to him “JJ stop! Put the gun down.”
You chimed in a futile attempt to diffuse what you can, stepping back next to Sarah now that there was a weapon in the equation, saying, “JJ, it’s not worth it; put down the gun.” turning to look at you and Sarah, a dark look on his face.
“Did you say something, princess?” you both stare at each other. You look back not in fear but with sorrow. JJ, still making eye contact, pulls the gun away from his head, bringing it to the side, panting out, “We’re good.” Topper slowly stumbles up from the water while Sarah yells at Kiara.
You take a moment to breathe and ensure you're not shaking when you hear people yelling. You watch as Topper slowly stumbles your way, and gunshots ring out from the gun JJ has raised in the air. Sarah grabs your hand, trying to guide you to Topper’s truck, but ultimately, you lose her in the crowd from all the pushing and shoving.
When you walk through, looking around, you see a few guys who you would most likely classify as kooks standing around; they ask if you need a ride multiple times as you stand there trying, and you lie, saying you’re waiting for your boyfriend until finally, they seem to congregate in a small group together still watching you, but from afar.
You sit alone on a withered log, waiting and hoping the text you had initially typed earlier, right after your conversation with John B, but before the commotion, you can only hope that the recipient will answer you as quickly as they usually do
Halfway across the island, Rafe's phone pings, and he slowly tries to pull from the grasp of the girl lying halfway over him before he hears, “Rafey, don’t; it’s probably just Topper being stupid; he’s drunk; lay back down.” he does only because she was kissing along the expanse of his neck hand trailing down his toned stomach she lets out little moans into his neck. Closing his eyes, he tries to enjoy the feeling as much as he can until his phone starts physically ringing.
Rafe huffs, annoyance pooling through him, leaning over as he hears Emma make a little whine from the loss of contact with him, and when he picks up the phone, putting it to his ear before even thinking to check who it is, saying “Jesus Christ Top can’t you tell I’m busy Em—“
Then he hears it so quietly, a little sniffle just like the first call, and he almost thinks he’s dreaming till he pulls his phone away and sees the word Angel ❤️ written on the top; Rafe puts the phone back to his ear; sitting up straight, which caused Emma to fall back with a huff on his bed entirely.
Gently through the telephone, he says to you, “Angel,” he hears another slight sniffle, and you say quietly again, “Messages,” and with that, you hang up. Rafe starts to panic slightly to think that not only does he almost tell you about the half-naked girl currently sprawled across his sheets, but you won’t talk to him; then he reads the messages
Angel ❤️: Pls, I know it’s a lot to ask, but will you pick me up from the boneyard? Sarah and Topper left me, and some guys are being weird.
Angel ❤️: The cops are here and are talking to me next, so I’m less worried, but if you can, I still need a ride. I can’t go home tonight…
Rafe🪸: I’ll be there. Give me 10 minutes, princess.
Seeing those last messages, Rafe is up and into his closet, Emma whining, saying, “Rafey, what are you doing? You said we’d have fun tonight?” trying to do what could only be described as a pathetic attempt to conquer eyes full of lust roaming him, but lips pulled into a pout. Rafe turns, looking at her dead in the eyes, saying, unfeeling to the girl on his bed.
“Be gone before I’m back.” with that, he was out the door, down the stairs, and on his motorcycle down the road before he could even turn back to see Emma’s angry image slowly stomping down his front porch steps with no shoes and looking highly disgruntled.
Just like he had promised, Rafe's figure takes shape, walking up to you; cops were talking to other kids your age, handing out some tickets to those who they could tell were intoxicated, but you sat, your arms wrapped around yourself, face down all by yourself. He notices your face is pale, and you are looking at your hands, tracing your thumbs back and forth from each hand.
Scanning the area, he sees some Kooks grouped, the group of creeps he assumes, some he knows, some he doesn’t. They watch him walk your way; their eyes are broad, faces starke. He smirks their way and continues his stride toward you; when he reaches you, he leans down, putting his hand gently on your knee, kneeling to try for eye contact.
The contact from Rafe made you look up, your usually gorgeous (E/C) eyes clouded with some darkness; you say in such a small voice, “You came,” a hint of a smile on your face, and it makes him smile back at you “always will angel” he waits a moment letting that sink in for you.
Rafe stands to his full height, holding his hand to you, saying, “C'mon, let’s head home.” You didn’t even think twice before completely interlocking your fingers with his. Even though this surprised him, he guided you to his bike, parked in front of the first cop car. Already, Rafe could feel what felt like the shock from an electric wire meant to keep animals in a paddock. Every time his palm brushed yours, a jolt would go through his limbs. All the while, you were trying so hard to keep your palms away, aware and afraid he’d think you had clammy hands.
He walked you to the side of the bike, grabbing the helmet, saying sternly but almost gently, “ There is only one of these, but…” You begin to cut in. Still, he cuts you off, eyes, brows, and voice slightly raising. “No argument; you are gonna get home safe no matter what, or your brother will freak out on me.” this makes you smile and shut your mouth, letting him slip the helmet on your head and put the straps through on the bottom. When he’s done, he places a hand on either side of the helmet.
He shakes it, smiling at you as you flip up the visor, saying, “Hey,” he chuckles and says, “I’m sorry, angel had to make sure it wasn’t loose,” he flips the visor back down, smiling, at you he helps you on the bike. He lets you know to be careful of the exhaust and that you’ll have to sit as close as you can to him since his bike is technically only a one-person bike.
After assuring you multiple times that he’ll get you to Tannyhill safely and not to worry that he’s got you. he climbed on the bike, starting and pulling off slowly; it’ll still made you jolt forward, wrapping your arms tightly around his stomach and pressing your head firmly to his back as much as you could with the helmet. He turned back, saying softly, “Hold on tight, don’t let go,” and then back forward before accelerating forward.
Along the ride, all Rafe could think about was the thrumming he felt throughout his body, feeling you pressed this close against his back. Behind the helmet, you were taking steady breaths to stop the feeling of electricity in your fingertips every time a finger pressed against his stomach, feeling how toned he was had your heart pumping, praying that Rafe couldn’t feel it on his back.
Not that it would matter anyway cause his heart was beating just as hard, loud, and fast as yours. Anytime you’d hit any bumps, you’d grip him tighter and nuzzle closer; he’d have to take a calming breath.
Eventually, after 25 minutes since he was trying to go easy on the ride, you arrived at Tannyhill. Rafe quickly hopped off, turning to you and unbuckling the bottom of the helmet. He set that on the seat where he was sitting
Rafe helped you off the bike so you didn’t stumble; once both feet planted, he reached up and smoothed the hair on the tops and side of your head that got messy, tracing his hands till he was cupping your cheeks in his palms like delicate flowers about to blow away in the breeze looking in your eyes he whispered.
“You are beautiful.” You lay your head straight into his chest, making his palms rest on the nape of your neck. “Thanks for always showing up, Rafe.” he takes one hand, tilting your head to look at him, saying with a smirk, “I told you always, and I meant it.” That made your cheeks burn a bright red
Standing in front of Tannyhill late on a June evening, you and Rafe stare at each other, orbs tracing each other like the earth and space were colliding to make one big picture or like a string is being pulled taut. You didn’t even realize you were leaning into him and that his hands were trailing to your waist. None of it matters except the feeling of you both trying to press closer but not entirely doing it
Nothing matters until you hear a voice you know that makes you springboard backward from him, standing straight and turning towards the figure, waving and smiling brightly like nothing even happened behind you. Rafe's eyes go from hooded to a scowl directed right at Sarah
Sarah is running to you, wrapping you in a hug, saying, “Oh my god, I am so sorry. I tried to make him go back, but then he complained about cops, and then we fought.” you end up grabbing her wrist and saying, “Sarah, it’s okay.”
You give her your classic smike; she’s already growing to love being around you and your individualistic nature; that’s when she grabs your hand, saying, “ I set up the boat for us. I’ve got my laptop; we can watch Netflix,” letting her pull you off.
You throw one last glance over your shoulder to Rafe; he stands there expecting to meet your eyes one last time, and you do.
You turn and meet his eyes with all the brightness he’s growing to be so fond sparkling like the stars on a clear night; you smirk at him, and that’s how he knows the game of cat and mouse has finally begun, which has him with a devilish grin on his face watching you disappear around the corner of the house.
All rights belong to the owners of Netflix and the Outer Banks. I do not own any characters except OC characters. The fiction is simply for fun. All copyrights belong to the original owners.
if you’d like to catch up master here- The New Girl in Town
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ladykailitha · 1 year
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Star Child Part 2
Everyone loved the first part so much I thought I’d throw up the second one today as a treat.
This part is a little heavy, Steve talks about what happened to the Kings and it’s not pretty, so a warning for content.
Part 1
*
Eddie managed to shower and change and get down to the bar with barely a minute to spare. His hair is a little damp but there was no getting around that not if he wanted to be on time.
He had changed into more comfortable jeans, and put on a long-sleeved mesh crop top, and a denim vest over that. He pulled on a pair of combat boots to finish off the look.
He fussed with his hair as he scanned the crowd. And then he spotted him. Steve Harrington. Dressed in tight leather pants and a plain white t-shirt and matching sneaks.
Eddie’s brain nearly blue screened again. Fuck. It looked good on him.
He muscled his way through the crowd to stand in front of Steve.
“Hey!” Steve greeted warmly. “You made it!”
He turned and ordered them a couple of bottles of beer.
Eddie shrugged. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”
Steve matched his shrug with one of his own. “After how hard you guys rocked tonight, I don’t think I would have been able to do anything but crash. Especially since you guys did practically two sets tonight.”
He handed Eddie a bottle and took the other one for himself.
Eddie smiled. “Nah, we’re good. We often party afterwards.”
“To each their own, man,” Steve shaking his head and then took a sip of his beer.  
Eddie laughed. “I think it would ruin people’s image of you if you went out partying after shows. Your main appeal is your hometown, boy next door, have your daughter home by nine kind of guy.”
Steve half shrugged. “Some days it chafes.”
“Is that why you chose to do a metal version of an alt rock song featuring the daughter of the king of pop?” Eddie asked with a wink.
Steve laughed. “Something like that.”
Eddie bit his lip for a moment. “Have you thought about branching out? Becoming more like Timberlake than Styles?”
“Moving outside the genre that catapulted me to stardom you mean?” Steve asked.
“Why not? People have been successful at it before,” Eddie reminded him. “Because, dude, if pop music chafes, stop doing it.”
“Maybe after this last album,” Steve said. “I’m under contract for one more and then maybe I’ll color outside the lines.”
Eddie nodded. Contracts were a bitch. “So you talk with the Kings anymore?” he asked to fill the silence that had stretched between them after that conversation stopper.
Steve barked out a bitter laugh. “Billy died from an overdose about a year after we broke up. Tommy is in jail for beating his wife, Carol right before the Grammy’s last year. And Jonathan is dating my ex, and my agent tells me that there are wedding bells on the horizon. So no. I don’t speak to them anymore.”
“Holy shit!” Eddie said. “What the hell happened?”
“We were underage when we became famous,” Steve murmured. “So our parents took control of everything the first couple of years and pushed us too hard. Jonathan was the only one to survive because his mom made sure his dad couldn’t touch shit and shielded him from the worst the business had to offer.���
“You including yourself in the parents are shit pile?” Eddie asked.
“My parents were the worst because they looked respectable,” Steve said, “But both of them are among the worst people to walk this planet.”
“There’s a story there,” Eddie said, bumping into Steve shoulder, “come on. Spill.”
Steve looked around him and then leaned in so only Eddie could hear. “They tried to have me committed when I didn’t want to do what they wanted.”
Eddie’s eyes went wide. “Seriously, the fuck?”
Steve nodded. “Nearly succeeded, too. If it wasn’t for my best friend intervening and becoming my manager. Robin saved my life.” He sighed heavily and looked down at his beer.
“You know what you need right now?” Eddie asked with a big grin.
“What’s that?” Steve cocked his head to the side.
“To let loose on the dance floor!”
Eddie grabbed his hand and led him out to the middle of floor and began dancing.
Steve laughed and then joined in. Letting his worries slide away with the beat of the music.
Eddie kept going back to the bar for liquid courage to ask this beautiful boy if he would come back to his hotel room with him. But after the fourth shot and third beer, Eddie was too tipsy for anything even to close to sex, much less standing upright.
As Steve found out as he tried to get the front man back to his hotel room. Eddie was all over Steve, giggling and shoving his hair in his mouth.
Steve shook his head, a fond smile on his face. He managed to get them to his room without either of them falling down.
“You’re very pretty,” Eddie giggled.
Steve laughed, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “You, on the other hand, is absolutely gorgeous.”
Eddie blushed deeply.
“Where is your hotel key, dude?” Steve asked.
“Pocket!” Eddie pressed his lips together and batted his eyelashes at him.
“Which one?” Steve asked.
Eddie just leaned forward for a kiss and Steve dodged, patting down the pockets in the vest with no luck, finding only the man’s car keys.
He reached around to feel up Eddie’s back pockets, looking for the wallet and trying very hard not to linger.
Eddie only made the temptation that much harder when he canted his hips into Steve’s, seeking friction.
Steve had to close his eyes and take deep breath. His hands slid to the front of Eddie’s pants and found the wallet in the right pocket, his cell phone in his left.  
“Why don’t you have your wallet in your back pocket like a normal person?” Steve asked, chuckling.
“Thiefy heads trying to steal it, so usually on a chain, but going to unknown bar went for front pocket instead.”
Steve smiled at him. “Duly noted.”  He opened the wallet, fishing out the key card and opened the door. He half carried the very drunk Eddie to the bed and flopped him face first into the covers.
Steve put his hands on his hips and looked around at the suite. It had it’s own sitting room and a door that led to a large bathroom complete with a Jacuzzi style bathtub.  “Damn, Robin is slacking, if this the is kind of room your manager can get for you.”
Eddie rolled over on his back and looked up at Steve with a grin. “And I don’t hafta share!”
“You are a menace, Munson,” Steve murmured. He began unlacing the boots and pulled them off. “Come on, get under the covers, you dork.”
Eddie leaned up and crooked his finger at Steve. Steve leaned forward.
“Not dork, nerd!” he whispered and giggled. But before Steve could straighten up, Eddie grabbed him and pulled him on the bed.
Steve laughed.
Eddie kissed him, but Steve managed to get away.
“Why...” Eddie huffed, pouting.
Steve booped his nose. “Because I have it on very good authority that you won’t remember this in the morning and I want you to remember.”
Eddie grumbled as Steve pulled the blankets over him.
Steve put Eddie’s boots by the door and put the keys, phone, and wallet on the small table next to the sofa.
Eddie mumbled something and Steve went over to the bed to make out what he was saying.
“Who’s authority? Who says I won’t remember. I could, you don’t know.”
Steve brushed Eddie’s hair out his face and pressed a kiss to his temple.
“Mine.”
Steve slipped out the door to a snoring Eddie.
Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6  Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10  Part 11  Part 12  Part 13  Part 14 Part 15  Part 16
Tag List: @bejeweledbaby @avacrebs @eboyawstenn @moonshadows-13 @goodolefashionedloverboi @linkydinky06 @ohlook-afrog @livelaughlexa @spectrum-spectre @cutepumpkin4 @whatthemeepever
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rottenpumpkin13 · 2 months
Note
(giggles in H E H E)
*Zack's mother is in town to visit her son and have a bit of fun.*
"Still, I can't believe you and dad are getting divorced!" Zack said a bit upset, but overall happy to have his mother around.
"Oh, please, things were never perfect between me and your father. Besides, now that you're a big boy, with a big boy job and big boy responsibilities, I feel like we can move our separate ways. We raised you well, you're a good person that is entirely capable of doing plenty of stuff on your own. I know it hurts, but things will be alright, okay?" She said with a confident smile.
He grumbled. "Fine, I guess..." He looked away. "Just... Why?" He asked confused.
"Oh, Zackie... You always knew, didn't you? We talked over it so many times..."
"Yeah, but I thought things would change between you two!" He said nervously.
"Just because me and your father are not a couple anymore, doesn't mean we hate each other, honey. We're just doing what's best for both of us." She said with a smile while gently caressing her son's cheek. "We still love you lots, little hedgehog."
Zack chuckled. "I'm not little anymore." He scratched his head.
"You sure? With that head down I had my doubts." She playfully said as she put on some nice earrings.
"You're going out?"
"Yes, actually. I met someone online and—"
"MET SOMEONE?!"
"Oh, please, Zackary, I'm a grown woman AND your mother. I am divorced, I have the right to go on dates if I want to. You go out on dates with Aerith, don't you?"
"Well, yeah, but—"
"No but. My life doesn't stop, hedgehog and I'm sorry, I know it's sudden, but trust me. He's a good guy and you'll see." She said with a bright smile he haven't seen in a decade.
Although he didn't like the idea, he decided that, for his mother sake, might as well be at least polite to him. If anything, he might scare the guy, he was still in his uniform, the guy must know what SOLDIER is, so he'll be sure his mother will be treated like the lady she is.
"Hi! I just want to introduce you to my son!" She said while pulling the mystery date inside her hotel room. "Angeal, I'd like to introduce you to Zackary, my son!"
An hour passed in Sephiroth's office, the atmosphere calm as he diligently tackled his work. Genesis sat in an armchair in the corner of the room halfway through a riveting novel while occasionally looking up to comment on the story's pacing to Sephiroth.
The phone rang shrilly, startling Genesis and tearing away Sephiroth's attention from the stack of papers. He answered, being met with Lazard's frantic voice on the other line.
"Director? What's going on?" Sephiroth inquired, a hint of concern in his voice.
Sephiroth exchanged a glance with Genesis that made the redhead instantly bookmark his novel and put it down.
Sephiroth sighed. "We're on our way," he replied dutifully, hanging up the phone.
Genesis stood up. "What happened?"
Sephiroth followed suit, pushing his chair back as he rose to his feet. "It appears Angeal and Zack are having a physical confrontation. We need to go break it up."
Genesis hummed, amused. "Why are they fighting?"
"Lazard didn't say," Sephiroth shrugged, making his way towards the door. "I suppose we'll be finding that out soon."
Another hour later, Infantryman Cloud Strife laid in his bunk. He was exhausted after a hard day's work and just wanted some rest, peace and quiet—
The shrill ring of his PHS in his pocket made him groan. He grabbed the device, seeing Lazard's name flashing on the screen. He flicked an eyebrow, amused, before answering him.
"Cloud speaking."
"..."
"They WHAT?"
"..."
"What do you mean Angeal is going out with Zack's mother? Zack kicked him where? Aw, man, that's gotta hurt. Did they manage to break up the fight, at least?"
"..."
Cloud's eyes widened. He gripped the PHS hard and leapt out of bed.
"YOU'RE TELLING ME SEPHIROTH SAW HER, BECAME INFATUATED, AND THEN VOWED TO FIGHT ANGEAL FOR HER AFFECTION? AND ZACK PUNCHED HIM, GENESIS GOT MAD AND NOW ZACK AND GENESIS ARE GOING AT IT?"
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soranihimawari · 4 months
Text
1/100th of a Second
Or how a poor college student became the sweetheart off a popular rookie athlete in his debut season…
Warnings: none? Just a meet cute at Noehbi…?
Pairings: Bokuto Kotarō x (fem!)reader
Ratings: reunitedbest friends!->lovers
Based on this image i had commissioned from @/rrabittt
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Love, as scientific experts say, can change the chemistry of your brain. Love, some romantics who write in the genre, say can happen as often as a clap of thunder in the storm. Love, as you know it, walked into the classroom of your fifth grade class and you feel your young heart fall instantly within 1/100th of a second when your eyes meet the most talkative boy in your class.
Sure, for the next four years, until you enter different high schools, you were inseparable. Taking naps, going to support each other’s sporting events, you name it, he was there for every win and you were there for his. It wasn’t until your middle school year was ending that you had to break the news to him up weren’t able to join him in at Fukurodani. He was devastated and he seemed to visibly deflate and poke around his bento.
“But it’s not like I’m going to be too far away, Bo,” you remind him. “You can always watch my games when I start the season in Hyogo. My mom went to Inarizaki too before moving here to Tokyo for university and she met my dad instantly and kicked off their love story…”
“Yeah, but it’s not the same! You’re gonna be 12+ hours away by bus even more so my walking…”
“The scouts saw me out perform everyone on the team this year even if we didn’t make it to the girls’ junior nationals…’m really sorry bokkun.”
That summer, before you packed up and left, you don’t let the fight you two had nearly three hours before you leave with your parents who would drop you off in another city, stop you from marching to his house in the pouring rain. You pounded on his door and when his older sister answered the door, she leans over her shoulder and you don’t wait for her to return with a towel. For once, you put your heart on the line and in true story book fashion, you bully your way into your best friend’s room:
“Bokuto Kotaru!”
He’s never heard you yet at him, but you at 14 years old knew how to get his attention without the yelling. He hit his growth spurt this year and is now at a comfortable height difference for you to reach up, cup his face and humble him with his first kiss being stolen by you.
“You’re insane,” he mumbles.
“Absolutely stark raving mad,” you jest back before hugging him. “Thought you should know I’ve been wanting to do that since we were ten.”
And so, you leave when he wishes you luck in Hyogo.
Almost a full three years later, you’re back in the city that bared and raised you. Tokyo was ever growing, ever expanding. It would be the same across the country in Hyogo. Sure you were a bit timid even in the past, however ever since your parents decided to split, you find yourself back in your hometown.
It's a weird feeling hearing your old friend in your new high school's gymnasium. Apparently, though you were studying at Nohebi (because they were still accepting transfer students right before the year had started), you happened to join a classmate to oversee her boyfriend's volleyball club training. That's when you see a few of the guys clad in ivory. The third team that were invited were a den of cats, and you seem to pick up this was a pre-pre season face off. Noehbi's vice captain nudges one of the others whom your girl friend from class waves toward and you are introduced to Daisho Suguru. His rival, the tall guy in red, still insults him, but you sort of laugh at their banter. However, your attention goes to the third young man clad in the ivory and gray practice uniform. Sure, you haven't seen each other in three years, but you can tell he sort of filled out: chest and torso was worked out on a weekly focus rotation; his legs were covered with compression leggings which only accentuated his...other assets; and oh my god, you realize he's walking toward you.
"Excuse me," you smile at Daisho and his-your-girl friend, and you respond when you know Bokuto's voice has changed to a little raspier one than before. "Bo?"
"YN?"
You both chuckle and you let Daisho make the call to have the first practice match be between Nekoma (red team you found out later) and Nohebi, begins. WInner of that match will square off with one of the five top aces in the year.
Hours later, you're seen walking in the opposite direction of your own home, reconnecting with the boy you stole your first kiss from at 14. You fill him in on your life, even your parents divorce, "so the judge agreed I was old enough to choose who and where I wanted to live, so I came back home...with my dad."
"Cool, but y'know, 'm sorry they split," Bokuto says, holding your hand and giving it a squeeze.
"Me too, but I'm glad they're living their own truths now," you reply, shyly combing a piece of your hair behind your ear. “I’ll be here through the end of our third year. So, I’ll be seeing you more I guess.”
He hums, nodding along. 
“Once an old friend, always an old friend,” Bokuto beams. 
You don’t bring up the time you literally gave him his first kiss, that memory could burn for all you care. Awkward and all, however that was three years ago and as his house comes to view, he asks you something a bit…sweet?
“Want to come in?” 
You, who think nothing of it, agree, stepping across the threshold of the front door you’ve came through so many times. His house is lively with with sisters and even the eldest one now is finally expanding the family. Her sweet smile invites conversation, but thankfully after you had said your greetings, she understands her kid brother more than anyone else. The middle sisters are gushing over the latest sonograms of their eldest sibling while Bokuto chimes in with being named a godparent almost immediately.
“Well, if I make Koutaro a god parent, then,” his expecting sister glances at you. “I’d have to make you one too I guess.”
Your cheeks are burnt sunset orange when Bokuto pulls you away from the kitchen saying something about homework.
“They are as lively as ever…So, your one-san is expecting? That’s something I wasn’t expecting when you told me she was gonna come home for a few months and travel back I think before she gets too far along…You an uncle? That’s also great too,” you ramble a bit. You take an opportunity to see the achievements he made with being the ace for the volleyball clubs since your move, spotting the article framed of him and his near perfect posture for a pipeline spike. 
“Bokuto,” your voice is gentle. “Why did you invite me inside?”
He places his things down at the corner of his bed before sitting on the edge of it.
“Because I missed you way more than I imagined.”
Considering you’re standing by his desk right now, you arch an eyebrow, but you shrug your shoulders. 
“I’m sorry I didn’t write or call,” you confess. “I didn’t have enough time to ask for a computer at the time. I mean, I had tablets, sure, but we didn’t make it a point to trade social media.”
“Come here,” he holds your hand. You listen to him and walk toward him until you’re close enough he hugs you; a hand of yours rustles his hair. You chuckle slightly amused when he nuzzles his cheek against your torso. 
“Affectionate as always,” he hears you say. His eyes light up and he chooses to ask you something a bit bolder. 
“Mind if I do something?”
You shake your head before asking if he’s attempting to flirt with you (again).
“So what if I am,” Bokuto loves it when you tease him a bit. His lips find yours after he guides you to sit on his lap for a bit. There’s a smile you feel post him pecking your lips as he finally decides to take a chance for you both. For the boy who cares and emotes too much to find the person who inspired him to return after some time, having you return his affections meant the world to him.
So when future you had honed your skills in obtaining your degree in public relations, you stand in the press room with the rest of the rookie volleyball players from the Monster Generation, a sparkly stone shines on your finger when just a regular ace answers a question from the press.
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runningupthatvecna · 9 months
Text
the law of seat partners | part 4
masterlist
a/n: so this is part four, probably the last and final part to bring this little something to an end. it's a bit of a dive into eddie's emotional state and self-esteem issues and it just might sting you a little reading. this whole story has honestly been a wild ride from start to finish and i want to thank every single one of you for giving it so much love! hope you enjoy this last part just as much, if not more. all i can say is that i poured my entire heart into this and it's my first time writing spice, so go easy on me please. my requests are, however, open in case anyone wants me to write more. for this, i'm planning a little sequel part, so keep an eye out for that if you like.
summary: after some intense flower crown binding and a few more intense days at the camp, things are finally getting real between you and eddie. you make him your prince and he makes you his own. read for yourself ;)
word count: 13,5k (lol don't ask i got carried away it seems)
warnings/tags: slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love kinda, not too detailed description of reader's appearance, very close physical closeness, sharing a bed, eddie being touch starved and a very wholesome and caring bean, mentions of eddie's dad being a piece of shit, lots of petnames, shitlots of fluff, a tad bit of angst, abandonment issues & performance anxiety, smut (minors go away!), softdom!eddie, kissing, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, blowjob, a bit of edging if you squint, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, pulling out, basically just hot and steamy lovemaking filth. ok BYE
-----
Roses, magnolias, tulips, daisies, sunflowers, yarrows, peonies and lots of twigs with green leaves. For the base. To balance out the colours.
The day had finally come.
You placed the crown of flowers which you had spent an hour assembling and braiding and binding together on your head, intending to wear it with a sense of pride.
A sunflower as the yellow centerpiece, two light purple peonies on each side, some yarrow and white roses here and there.
You guessed that Jonathan would shoot another roll of film full today, measured by the enthusiasm he was displaying just now while directing the postures of the four of you, assigning you poses and giving you instructions on which way to turn so you would be lit in the best way possible.
Robin, Nancy, Max and you were stood in one line, and if it weren't for the fact that you found yourselves on the path leading from the cabins to the little square of the fireplace, surrounded by trees, the view of the lake in the background and framed by a row of tall pines, you would think you were posing for graduation photos.
It was a nice rehearsal, at least.
Anyone else except Will, Eddie and the photographer himself were busy occupying themselves elsewhere.
The younger Byers boy enthusiastically fumbling around with flowers for his own crown – the artist in his element –, Jonathan capturing your precious moments and Eddie, ... well Eddie was honestly just watching the four of you, admiring the scene and being grateful that no one had shoo'ed him away yet, because that meant he'd certainly have to get involved in the yoga-slash-stretching workshop Steve Harrington was trying to attend in the meantime.
Also he was wondering where you took the patience for your magnificent wonder of floral composition from, when he unsuccessfully tried to merely string a bunch of leafy twigs and yarrow together himself.
The teachers had made you all spent the majority of the day in the next bigger town, admiring the contents and exhibits of the local museum, dedicated to bring the regional history, geography specifics and culture closer to its visitors. And the only time the longhaired metalhead had left your side (under protest) was those two times you needed to use the women's restroom.
The younger middle school kids had been an absolute menace to the nerves of Mr Clarke all day, their lack of patience and ability to stay focused on the exhibits getting the best of him.
Eddie's presence made everything better though (for you at least) and the obnoxious children forgotten. You know that feeling when you're on a trip with your friends and your crush is there too and that fact just lifts your entire mood and whatever you guys are doing doesn't matter because they are there with you because their presence is solely enough to make your heart blossom?
Yeah. That.
"Come here", you sat down next to Eddie on the tree trunk that was laid flat to act as a bench, taking and trying to fix whatever attempt of a flower crown he was occupying his fingers with. You would guess that he'd be quite skilled with them as a guitarist, but seeing him drop stuff here and there with his tongue stuck out – a telltale sign that he was focussing super hard – also had you guessing that the skill of binding flower crowns and playing guitar were two different pairs of shoes.
Legs touching, you felt Eddie's gaze wander from the top of your knee over the skin on the plushness of your bare thighs up to the hem of your white flowy linen dress.
Oh, what they would feel like under his gentle touch.
His eyes paused their little journey on your hands, the softness of your skin, how you (just like him) always wore your rings, thin golden bands delicately adorning your index and middle fingers plus the one on your right thumb. He took in the tiny wrinkles stretched over your knuckles, the way your fingertips were readjusting the wire he sloppily had bound the twigs and stems together with, lightly brushing over the even softer petals of the flowers.
Secretly he wished they would lightly brush over his own hands too.
Brush over his neck, his hair, his cheeks, telling him that there was absolutely nothing wrong with him and that he could and would be accepted – and maybe even loved – just the way he was in his truest form.
As if you could be someone with the capability to show him just that. Convince his silly brain that he wasn't the fuck up his father made him believe to be. The unlovable freak his hometown condemned him as.
A feeling he was so desperately yearning for, deep down below the surface where usually no ray of light would ever reach the bottom.
Mainly because he wouldn't let the light through. The waves were and had just always been too high.
Gaze continuing its journey further up, lingering on your chest for a fleeting second, before scanning over the expanse of your neck.
Eddie mentally thanked Nancy for braiding your hair out of the way today.
He took in your jawline, the way your small and delicate earrings decorated the lobes of your ears, a small strand of hair on the side of your head separating your ear from your face, your nose which Eddie found to be very cute, a few freckles spread over the apples of your cheeks, eyes as deep as the ocean, currently focused on not cutting yourself on the garden scissors as clumsy as you could be, and then the pinkish red plushness of your rounded lips.
Eddie was certain they would feel like lying on a cloud in heaven against his own. Giving him a glimpse of something big and meaningful, and very very dear to him, something crawling through every vein of his body making the goosebumps erupt on his bare arms, something he craved to his core.
He wanted to touch. Needed to. More of you.
And he felt an all too familiar warmth spread through his abdomen, just like yesterday after the swimming, when his goodnight hug had ended up a bit too tightly for his own good, and he'd had to excuse himself awkwardly in order to take care of the semi slowly causing his damp shorts to become painfully tight.
He took in the way your eyes lit up and the corners of your mouth curled upwards at your successful fix of his poor attempt to impress you, watched you getting up and moving in front of him in a twirl, making the hem of your dress bounce a little.
Of course he noticed that. You were the pretty much only thing occupying the space in his brain.
The light was you.
"Now here you go, Prince of Metal", you chuckled as you placed the crown on his head softly, him blinking up at you through his thick black lashes with a wide smile that was forming on his face slowly at your affectionate gesture and – especially – the title.
It was very modest, just white yarrow and the green of the leaves, an analogy to Eddie's mindset of cherishing simplicity.
A "thank you, darling" escaped his chest in a low, soft tone right before he stood up, still grinning at you as if you had just told him you'd won the lottery. Or he'd won it.
He was certainly feeling like he had. You had done this, something nice, for him. It made his cheeks flush pink. A delightful addition to the white and green.
Jonathan had just finished taking a few close-ups of Max' half-heartedly composed circle of tulips and daisies, and when he noticed you and Eddie in the middle of half empty buckets of leftover flowers and the splutter of twigs and fallen petals, he wasted no time in calling you over to his makeshift photo set.
-----
For the rest of the trip, you couldn't help but think of Eddie's newfound interest in flower arrangements, the way he had selflessly fought with the stubborn wire and unruly twigs just to spend more time with you (and selflessly escape yoga with Steve).
The time at camp was almost coming to an end already. You had two nights left before the bus would roll up again, forcing you to leave the little serene oasis to take you home.
A whole bunch of polaroids was stacked up on your little nightstand by now, one of them showing you alongside the Prince of Metal, proudly posing with flower crown heads held high, and if you didn't know better you would say that the pose you both had taken made the impression of one of a royal couple. Eddie had put his hands on his hips, facing the camera diagonally, your back towards his chest in the same direction as him. Serious expressions, since you were royalty.
Another showed you in between Steve, Robin and Eddie on another hike, all of you well-lit by the bright sun, blue sky and vast lake with the deep green of trees in the background, on top of the hill you had attempted to climb on the first day. Robin was pulling a silly face, while Eddie poked his index finger into the dimple that always formed on Steve's cheek whenever he put on his toothy grin. And you? You were just looking, smiling, gazing at your seat partner.
More of them had been taken during further swimming activities, recreations of the acrobatic performance which Eddie and Max had displayed that first time in the lake, and since Jonathan knew how obsessed with photos you really were, he thought he might as well give you all the others he had taken.
For safekeeping.
Not to mention the one of Eddie and you on the bus.
And then, your personal favourite you had decided, showed Eddie in the white framed rectangle with closed eyes, his crown of flowers decorating the top of his head, the widest grin spread across his face.
He looked angelic.
You wished you could make a thousand copies of it and tape it to every single lamp post and throw it into every single mail box in all of Hawkins.
You wanted to look at it forever.
As you were lying there in the darkness of your shared cabin, you made a mental note to yourself to definitely pay Jonathan back for the film.
Eyes closed, you let your mind wander through all the memories you'd been making these past days. Not just with Prince Metal, but also with everyone else. It was nice and wholesome getting to spend time with the gang outside of Hawkins.
The very vivid memories of the past days flooded your brain. It was easy getting lost in them. So lost, that you audibly gasped as a light knock on the glass of the window pulled you out of conscious dreamland.
Practically shooting up from the mattress, you turned your head towards the window.
The more than familiar wild mane of your favourite Hawkins local satanist stood out from between the ends of the bushes growing beneath that window, and the person it belonged to was intently gesturing towards the wooden door of your cabin.
Eddie was wearing his signature grin when you rolled your eyes at him and the idea of sneaking around in the waking hour that was two in the night.
You mouthed a "fine" at him, nodding towards the door, before you silently tried to get up without triggering an avalanche of your roommates awaking.
The sight that offered itself to you as you crook open the cabin door was something you were certain you were going to burn into the core memories of your life.
Eddie Munson on the first of two steps in front of your door, the pathway with the other cabins in the background, in a black tank top, from the darkness you made the colours of his boxers out to be dark blue, his white sneakers but no socks. The scene in your periphery lit only by the low glow of the moon casting its reflection down onto him and his surroundings through the crowns of the pine trees.
A bunch of tattoos were visibly spread over his arms, guitar pick on a chain around his neck, curtained by his luscious curls. A messy bunch of random forest flowers and grass in his tight fist.
What on earth was he thinking he was doing out here? At this hour?
His expression told you.
"Hi", he almost whispered, a sly smile playing on his lips, eyes searching yours, stretching his arm straight and holding the makeshift flower bouquet out under your nose.
As if it was the most normal thing, showing up at someone's cabin in the middle of the night. In the woods. With random flowers he must have picked on the way here?
You snorted at his gesture and the incredible sweetness of it, it was making you blush hard and your heart combust in your ribcage at the thought of him even thinking of bringing you something. At him even being here right now. The innocence of it juxtaposing with his reputation back at home.
"Jesus Christ, what on earth are you doing out here?", you whispered back in the same tone, leaning in the doorframe in your usual sleep shirt and – of course, since you were surrounded by girls and you all were comfortable enough with each other – panties only.
Eddie took the next logical step, the one above the one he was currently standing on, getting closer to where you were leaning and recreating the usual height difference between you two.
"I can't fall asleep with Steve snoring", still in a hushed tone, and he paused before a small smile formed on his lips again, "and a bird just told me that the extension of the law, remember when I told you about that? Yeah, well, it got approved, so", he paused again, finding your eyes again with his best impression of a puppy, "could I maybe, you know uh, come in and be rescued from my eternal misery?"
You were very well aware that you'd be sent home immediately if anyone caught sight of you letting a male breathing creature past your doorstep, but since it was 2 am, it was also Eddie Munson gazing at you in the moonlight as if you were the most beautiful thing he ever had laid his eyes on, and you couldn't deny that you most definitely wanted this, the possible consequences of your little spontaneous rendezvous, nagging at your brain like alarm bells, were thrown overboard in an instant.
Grabbing one of Eddie's wrists, you pulled him towards you and inside, trying to close and lock the cabin door as silently as possible.
His presence alone and familiar warmth radiating from his body was already soothing the light rush of adrenaline in your veins from doing something that could get the both of you into quite the trouble, and it didn't take him long to take a step forward, moving his arm that you were still holding on to around you, so you were forced to turn your back towards him while his other snuck around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.
He squeezed you to himself for a brief second, acting as a silent thank you, before he let go of you with a wide grin that you were only able to see thanks to the dim light of the moon flooding through the one window between the two bunks.
There was a small sparkle in his eye, a glint of serenity, comfort and endless affection. And relief. So much relief from how you were letting him in, weren't rejecting him like he was used to.
Peaceful breathing was filling the room, a light snore coming from the top bunk that wasn't above yours, and Eddie followed you.
You couldn't believe that you were about to share your small mattress and covers with the one guy you'd been harbouring feelings for over the time span of several months.
Eddie couldn't believe it either.
Mere seconds later, you found yourself caged in by the wall, the bed frame and Eddie's body.
It was the most natural thing. Everything fell into place, the way the two of you were lying there, facing each other, inhaling each others breaths from the close proximity, the covers draped over your bodies, hiding the details of Eddie sneaking an arm around your waist again to pull you impossibly closer, his hand carefully exploring more of the territory he already had started to discover on the bus, calloused yet somewhat soft fingertips almost ghosting up the warm skin over your bare spine.
"You're so pretty."
An inaudible whisper of admission.
You heard it.
An invasion of goosebumps spread over every inch of your skin like a wildfire.
Eddie felt it.
"So are you."
The arm you weren't lying on found its way up, tucking a wisp of his curls that had fallen over his now beet red cheek away behind his ear.
Neither of you wanted to ever stop smiling.
He moved his entire being down a little so his eyes were the same level with your jawline, a low hum escaping his throat at the tip of his nose brushing over the skin on your neck in an upward motion, just like that time in the lake.
It was beyond overwhelming to feel him this close. In your bed.
And for Eddie, feeling you this close was so much better than the countless times he had imagined this happening. He'd imagined what it would feel like, your light illuminating all of him.
You let him use your arm as a pillow, before he nuzzled his forehead against the same spot on your neck, his cheek lightly pressed against your clavicle.
And just when you thought you couldn't get physically closer to him than in this moment, bellies touching, legs wordlessly intertwined and all, he pulled you against him some more. Squeezed you tightly and tenderly, letting you know that this was right where he wanted to be. Where he needed to be.
And yeah, it felt quite right to you as well.
Your other arm that wasn't occupied by Eddie's head found its way around his torso, hand rubbing softly over the expanse of his back, and you wondered how much of muscle and softness your fingertips would be encountering if your hand would just cheekily sneak its way underneath his tank top.
Resting your cheek on Eddie's forehead, the warmth, the comfort of wrapping your arms around something to hold onto at night, his steady and satisfied breathing against your own, made you easily drift off into a deep slumber.
Eddie had already passed out the minute you had allowed him to rest his head in the crook of your neck and had draped your arm over him, encasing him in the embrace he so badly needed in order to find his own sleep.
You'd known him long enough to know that he cared about the few people in his life who hadn't let him down, he took care of people that took care of him.
And you wanted to take care of him. In every way you could and in every way he would let you.
Silence filled the single room, steady breaths being in- and exhaled, and you hoped no one had yet woken up to notice your charming little intruder existing in the sacred four walls of the flower cabin.
-----
A ray of sunlight made the shadows of tree leaves dance over the landscape of your face through the window.
You woke up from it, eyelids slowly blinking and then squinting shut again from the sudden invasion of too much light at once.
It took you a few seconds to realize where you were, namely in the small cabin that you were to call home for the week, with Max still snoozing in the bunk above you, a light snore still coming from Robin's side of the room, and Nancy having probably already left to go for her daily morning jog.
The weight of a semi-tattooed arm was resting on your torso diagonally like a seat belt, indicating that Eddie was even in his sleep very concerned for your safety. He had moved upwards, now a head above yours on your actual pillow and on his side, making his chest slowly rise and fall against your head.
It was peaceful, so peaceful waking up next to him, and it felt like the most natural thing. A very easy morning. As if this wasn't the first time ever.
You rubbed the back of your hand over your eye, the movement causing Eddie's hand to give the exposed skin over your waist, until where your shirt had ridden up, another gentle squeeze, making it known to you that he was, in fact, awake as well.
Craning your head towards the head of the bed, your still sleepy eyes found the warm brown of his for a moment, along with a wide stretched smile playing on his lips, dark stubble running down his cheeks and chin and neck before stopping halfway down, since he had forgotten to shave.
Eyelids fell shut again, but the smile stayed. Just for a moment longer, before he relaxed every muscle in his stupidly beautiful face, allowing your eyes to start their own journey of curious wandering.
You took in the way his nostrils flared a little whenever he exhaled, the tiny wrinkles on the outsides of his big doe eyes, a bunch of light freckles scattered over the bridge of his nose and the apples of his cheeks, the way they were being pushed up by the corners of his mouth whenever he gave you that smile, the slightly glowing softness of his skin generally, the way his wild unruly dark mane framed his face so perfectly, the way his cupid's bow sat on the plushness of his pink lips, ...
And oh, you were certain they would feel like lying on a cloud in heaven against your own.
You were also certain you were still dreaming, that this entire moment of Eddie knocking on your window and letting him into your bed and him lightly fanning your face with his breath right now was just a dream and you were about to wake up any second to the sound of pesky middle schoolers screaming their way from their cabins to the pergola where you'd usually have breakfast.
But no. This was real. Eddie was real. And he was just so pretty, lying there peacefully snoozing, the expanses of soft bellies still touching, and that wasn't because your mattress didn't stretch wide enough.
"Are you watching me sleeping?", Eddie mumbled, lightly flexing his jaw, eyes staying shut, the smile returning slowly.
If there wasn't a fire in your lower belly burning from all his touches and sweetness already, it damn certainly was now, ignited by the rasp in his low morning voice.
Oh Jesus Christ.
The absolute heat was spreading into two directions, using your heart as its origin. Once again your cheeks heated up, and you felt your thighs clench together involuntarily at the way in which he said those words.
"What if I was?", you mumbled back in a similar tone, trying your best to not let on too much about the effect he was having on you.
Eddie's eyebrows disappeared behind his frizzy bangs. Still refusing to open his eyes.
"Then I'd say you're being a little creep."
He let out a low chuckle while pulling you into his embrace, savouring the moment of having you this close once more and letting you know for certain that he was just joking.
"Pfff, says the guy who literally creeps around my cabin at two in the night."
You could not for the life of you recall a time when his face ever was closer to yours than it was right now, noses almost touching.
"Hey, that was a necessity. We only obeyed the law and I am eternally grateful for your gracious salvation from me meeting my impending doom."
The underlying layer of heaviness of his words was disregarded for now, since you wanted to desperately keep the bliss that came with being so close around him for just a moment longer.
Eddie made you feel like you were the most important person in the entire world, mainly due to his ever prominent abandonment issues. Meaning he never once had really left your side during the entirety of this trip (except for when you had to use the bathroom and, well, sleep – until now), always making sure you were taken care of.
It melted you.
And you didn't mind his clinginess at all. Male validation wasn't something you had to run from in order to save yourself from drowning in it. The opposite was more of the case, you were soaking it up like the roots of a flower that hadn't seen rain in years.
Oh wait, flowers decay at some point if they don't get watered? Well, yeah. You'd almost been there at some point in the past.
"You're such a dork", you remarked his theatrics with a chuckle, before burying your face in the crook of his neck, cheek pressed to his clavicle and nose dipping into the soft skin where neck and shoulder met, "but a very cute one."
A hint of shyness overcame you.
Awaiting his reaction was unbearable.
Eddie's cheeks flushed a bright red at your admission and the fact that you were so very obviously trying to hide your fluster between his shoulder and neck? You going all sweetly shy on him simply made his brain short circuit.
Did you just call him cute?
While your – your – lips (!!!) were so close to his skin, barely brushing over one of his sensitive spots?
No, Eddie Munson was almost certain he was still in dreamland.
Only now he dared to open his eyes, just to make sure he hadn't dreamt the sneaking-into-your-cabin-last-night part either, and let out a sigh at the conscious feeling of your skin that had collided with his palm, your nose at his pulse point, hair tickling his chin.
Then, the realization of that meaning behind your latest words kicked in.
Meanwhile, you didn't dare to lift your head to see his reaction for yourself.
He made you feel it though, when a boost of confidence helped one of his hands find a home on one of your butt cheeks, the arm which your head was still resting on wrapping around your shoulder so his arms were fully engulfing your figure, and his own head dipped down to where your neck was slightly craned.
Tip of the nose brushing up along the expanse of your neck in a singular swift motion of his head, since he already had found out a while ago that you didn't dislike that one, and then?
Then he buried his nose in the hair coming down behind your ear, while his lips slowly, almost carefully placed a peck to where your jaw met your neck, followed by another low hum at the feeling of you not backing away. Of you staying with him.
At first you weren't so sure if you had registered that correctly, but at the same time, judging from the way you could feel a familiar warmth pool between your legs, you were pretty sure he'd just kissed your neck.
Neckneckneck.
Thank fuck he couldn't see the way your eyes were rolling into the back of your skull at the sensation of his warm lips on your warmer skin.
Months over months of yearning for him, for this, for lying in his tight embrace, against the warmth of his body, longing glances you had directed at him, his innocent arm around your shoulder practically burning through whatever shirt you were wearing on those days, the now occurring realization that his sly remarks and jokes had literally been his way of subtly flirting with you, painting all his glances that had been thrown back at you in a similarly wistful light.
It was all so much at once, yet you already couldn't possibly get enough of him.
You nuzzled closer (if that was even physically possible), your arm squished between your bodies, the arm you weren't lying on wrapped around his torso, hand still underneath his tank top, running your fingertips along the smooth skin over his spine.
Giving back.
A nice concept.
A little less shy now, still cautious though, your lips pressed against the slightly stubbly side of his neck as you craned your head further up.
Eddie couldn't believe his fucking luck.
"Mhm, baby."
His almost whispering voice didn't have to travel far from how close his lips were to your ear. Because they still were lingering on your neck, where he countered your admission with another chaste kiss, trying not to overwhelm you.
It was too much. You couldn't take it any longer.
Lifting your head away from his skin, the warmth radiating from his neck engulfing your face, you softly dropped the weight back on Eddie's arm.
A wide smile decorated his face, letting you know that everything was alright with you and him in his book, and in his big brown chocolate orbs you only found affection.
You hoped he could spot the same in yours.
Oh, a surge of confidence erupted inside of you.
"Would it be okay if I kissed you?"
Eddie's fingers occupied themselves with a soft dig into the plushy flesh of your ass, while the smile dancing on his lips slowly turned into a cheeky grin, dimples denting his skin adorably, and his other hand craned around your head, thumb bending far enough to run the length of it down your cheek.
"Mhm, darling. Why do you think I've been touching you this entire time?"
Without another moment of hesitation you closed the distance between your faces, lips colliding with his own in the softest way.
You both were now lying on a cloud in heaven.
It was passionate from the beginning, yet not too wild, a fuzzy feeling of warmth spreading through your entire system at the sensation.
The low hums that Eddie let out at the feeling of your lips softly moving against his own was sending your sense of time and space into the void, and the fact that you initiated this was making his head spin like the ceiling fans in Hawkins High's cafeteria.
Slow slow slow movements, your hands wandered up to cup his cheeks, while he pulled your hips impossibly closer to his own, humming against the endless softness of your lips dancing over his.
Each kiss lasted for a few seconds, it was like you were both trying so hard to feel every line and ridge and texture of each other, and also neither of you seem to waste a single care in the world about hurrying up.
"Oh lord Jesus Christ!", Robin's loud voice ripped you out of your little trance as it went echoing through the room.
Right, you almost forgot you weren't existing in your cabin all by your twosomeness.
Despite being caught in the act by just a mutual friend of yours (and not Ms Kelley), the metalhead and you still broke apart hastily.
A hint of panic overcame Eddie at the sudden intrusion, making him let go of you, grabbing the pillow underneath his head and shoving it into the now existent gap in between your bodies, since you had discarded the sheets a while ago. Why need a blanket if you have a perfectly functioning Eddie Munson to keep you warm at night?
It surprised you that he didn't fall off the bed entirely with how close to the edge of it he now was.
A relieved sigh escaped his lungs when he realised who really caught him stealing affectionate gestures from you.
Ms Robin Buckley had no problem with the both of you, she just wasn't expecting to find Eddie lying in your bed (slowly kissing you into oblivion) in her periphery while she was digging for her bathroom utensils so she could make sure she'd look less like a corpse for breakfast.
With "whatever this is, I didn't see it" and a loud open and close of the door, she excused herself, leaving you in your solitude.
With Max Mayfield. In the top bunk above you two, which she loudly made you remember as soon as Eddie got up to follow Robin's trace outside with a quick "uh, see you in a bit, sweetness", still clutching your pillow over his front while waddling his way over to the safety of his own cabin in which Dustin was probably still snoring into the next millenium.
"Soooo, what did I just wake up to? Hm?", you heard Max say with the most curious undertone after the door closed behind Eddie, as you rolled onto your back, already finding the emptiness and lack of warmth caused by Prince Metal's exit rather unpleasant.
Your only response was a groan as you pulled the sheets up and all the way over your head.
The pathetic attempt to hide wasn't meant as a long-term solution since your lungs unfortunately started craving oxygen at some point.
"Go away!"
It came out more as a mumble than a yell, mainly due to the muffling effect of the layer of fabric between your head and Max' ears, and as you pulled your head out from under the blanket covering your entire figure only to see Max' head poking out from the bunk above you, her long red mane dangling down towards the ground, you felt the heat rushing to your cheeks.
You had kinda seen it coming already, the struggle with having to explain yourself in the morning when your roommates would find Eddie snoozing peacefully in your arms.
But now it really hit.
You had just slept next to him. Literally kissed your crush. Who wasn't really a crush anymore. To you, Eddie was a lot more than that already.
Max just giggled at your response, jumping out of her bunk and continuing her teasing for the rest of the morning.
Well, at least until you joined the rest of the gang for breakfast.
Today was your last full day, and that meant going on another sweaty (yet beautiful) hike, a heated and intense capture the flag session in which Eddie didn't leave your side once, claiming that as your seat partner he also had the obligation to protect you from potentially evil forest spirits, and you also filled out the day by attending a cooking workshop, pairing up with Nancy.
Eddie – having to detach his everlingering hand on some part of your body throughout the day now – spent time with Max, Dustin and Steve, still successfully avoiding being dragged to the yoga session by the latter.
You guessed they were attending a class about forest herbs and survival tipps, an absolute necessity should they ever get lost in the vastness of a random national park one day.
Peeling potatoes at the counter of the outdoor kitchen, you peered over to the pathway as the group of students including your friends walked past, trying to spot your favourite out of them.
Eddie found your longing glance and returned it, along with the widest grin and a little bashful wave of his ringed hand.
You felt your heart jump at the vision, absentmindedly waving back with the hand that held the potato by two fingers, smiling like the most lovedrunk idiot.
The moment was fleeting, because he collided mere milliseconds later with Dustin's backside, giving the kid a gentle slap on the back of his head for stopping unexpectedly just to inspect the shape of a leaf from the tree next to him, making him look silly and like a total dork in front of you.
Your smile turned into a full on giggle when Eddie gave you a sheepishly yearning last look before the little gathering lead by Mr Clarke continued on the pathway, leading further into the forest and out of your periphery.
God, you loved him.
The day in its entirety was peaceful despite the doom of having to pack up and make sure not to forget anything that might have slipped underneath the beds. You were supposed to leave early in the morning just to be back in Hawkins before nightfall.
Even though you were growing tired of mosquito bites and flies viewing your meals as theirs, you couldn't be bothered to come up with feelings of homesickness. Not when you were surrounded by your loving friend group, Prince Metal and the serene oasis in the forest.
-----
The sun was about to set, casting a golden glow over the crowns of the pine trees swallowing the camp, light breezes of wind making the arms and twigs of the more leafy trees rustle softly every now and then.
Eddie got up from the couch he was lounging on, taking a semi nap in the presence of Dustin, Max and Jonathan after the intense workshop and stuffing himself at the surprisingly rich buffet your teachers had organised for your last evening.
He'd been subtly eyeing you from underneath the tall pergola, chatting and laughing with Steve and Robin by the bonfire which was already rising tall into the sky in the clearing of trees between pergola and pathway to the cabins.
The perfect way your clothes hugged your curves, the thin fabric of your shirt and adding its absolute nothing to hide the hardness of your nipples (also maybe due to you not finding it necessary to wear a bra), the stunning way your hair was shining in the start of golden hour, face illuminated by the fire in front of you, the enchanting way you curled your lips at a joke Steve had made (he even felt a tinge of jealousy creep into the center of his stomach), the entirely dazzling way your shirt had ridden up a little, showing skin between the waistband of your shorts and the hem of it.
And it was giving him ideas.
To anyone else these little things and details didn't seem too worthy to pay attention to, but Eddie noticed. He noticed you stealing wistful glances, making their way over to him here and there (and after the night he had, he was sure they weren't meant for Dustin), he noticed every inch of your skin that would unintentionally reveal itself to him from the ways in which you moved, he noticed the way your smile changed into something so astonishing when directed at him. Special.
You never looked at Steve like that. Or anyone else, for that matter.
Being as chronically touch starved as a metalhead outcast town freak could be, Eddie decided that it was too much. He couldn't not be near you any longer.
Your breath hitched in your throat just as you saw him get up and make his way over to you, a mix of confidence and shyness combined in his strut, before he came to a stop at the end of the log you were seated on, right next to your side.
"M'lady? May I ask her grace to walk with me?", you heard his voice say softly, a distinctly hopeful tone, warm and filled with the bashfulness from earlier in the day. Eddie met your smile with one equally wide.
A hand with ringed fingers was held out to you and you took it.
He lead you away from the group, away from everyone else, down the path towards the cabins where no one was at this hour, after he had intertwined your fingers with his own, the metal of his rings giving your fingers a little extra squeeze.
"It's nice to be sitting with the others and all, and I really enjoyed Dustin's ideas for Hellfire's next campaign, but", Eddie paused as he came to a still in his walk down to where your sleeping quarters were located, turning around to face you as his hand refused to let go of yours, right before continuing in the softest voice, barely audible, "I was hoping we could just leave them for a bit and enjoy the last evening a little more .. in private?"
Eddie leaned in a little closer with every word jumping over his lips.
Until he was inches away from yours, finding your eyes and you noticed the slight change of tone in the warm brown ocean of his. It had turned a shade or two darker as you reciprocated his beguiling gaze.
Oh, how easy it was for you to get entirely lost in it.
"I think that's an intriguing idea, Eddie", you replied with a smile, hoping he'd see and sense the same thing in your own eyes that was so clearly reflected in his. For you and for this reason, it was never difficult to look into them for long. Especially when he was so intently watching you.
A hand snuck around your waist, pulling you closer so your bellies would touch, the hand previously attached to yours now cupping your cheek, thumb softly running over the apple of it, head leaning in even further. Eddie's gaze flicked from your eyes to your lips and back in a matter of seconds, letting you know exactly what he was about to do.
Your hands found the little hairs at the nape of his neck, curling around the sides of it, lightly pulling as the plushness of his lips reunited with yours.
He hummed at the feeling, the moment filled with so much familiarity already. Without breaking contact, he gently cupped the other side of your face with his other hand, holding you there, needing you there.
Ever so softly, your lips moved against his, a moment you wished would last forever.
"I've been thinking about you all day", he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck as he wrapped his arms around you, lips landing on your pulse point. Breathing warmly against the skin there as he mumbled something along the lines of "they kept me away from my cute seat partner for way too long" before letting out a warm chuckle.
You felt your cheeks heat up at his words, still getting flustered by the directness of his flirting attempts. They were effective though, because you couldn't help but squeeze the back of his neck lightly with one hand while your other sneaked around his waist and underneath the hem of his shirt, reconnecting with its favourite place, the warmth and softness of skin on Eddie's back.
"It is an incredible atrocity indeed", you said with a giggle, making him raise his head back to face you, and the spark in his eyes gave you enough of a confidence rush, "I think we should make up for lost time then."
Waisting not a second longer, Eddie grabbed your hand again, and before you knew it, he had you affectionately pressed between the inside of his cabin's door and his body in a whimpering mess.
His kisses were getting hungrier, more demanding, yet there was a gentleness to it that let you know that you could stop this any second if you didn't want it.
"Is this okay, baby? We don't have to do anything if you don't want–", he asked in between sloppy pecks over your cheeks, jaw, down your neck that made you giggle lightly at his manners. It's not like his hands were all over you already, yet he was wondering if anything he was doing was alright with you.
"I can't get enough of you if I'm honest", you cut him off quietly, feeling the heat pooling in your underwear from the sensation of just about everything right now.
You were very well aware of the thing you were about to do. Crossing a line that could never be uncrossed, letting Eddie see you for all that you were, and giving him the freedom to choose.
Spoiler – he chose you.
Had done so since the moment you stepped onto the bus on that parking lot back home.
"Fuck, sweetness, you can't just say stuff like that", Eddie's voice came out huskily, he clearly was getting worked up over your response to his actions since he had you pinned to the door by the hips, his thigh in between yours, while his fingertips explored the skin of your waist underneath your shirt, lips still hovering over the expanse of your neck, brushing his nose upwards along the column of it, but this time a lot more slowly than the previous times.
He seemed to want to savour every single second he was granted access to your body like this, dragging each movement out as far as possible.
His wide, dark brown doe eyes returned to yours as he exhaled, "and expect me to be normal about it."
You didn't waste another second without your lips on his, pulling him back towards you by the chain which was holding his favourite guitar pick around his neck, eliciting a moan against your mouth out of him.
The only thing on Eddie's mind was you you you, the warmth of your perfect skin under his palms, the feeling of your pretty pink lips against his own, even the smell of you alluring him to no end.
Breaking away to catch your breath with eyes still closed, your lips curled into a smile when Eddie's hands wandered higher and higher while leaving goosebumps on the way, thumbs softly catching the underside of your tits, making you let out a content little sigh, as if his hands had just found their home, belonging right there.
His lips reunited with the skin on your neck, a moan escaping them as his thumbs reached your hard nipples, your neck vibrating lightly against his mouth when a moan of your own forced itself out of your lungs and your back arched away from the door for a second.
It had been a long time since anyone had touched you there, never in this way before though, which amplified every little touch Eddie practically worshipped you with.
A shudder ripped through you at the overwhelming sensation, it made you dizzy with want.
"It's so fucking hot when you twitch under my touch", Eddie almost whispered against your neck, and you were certain his voice couldn't drop any lower as he slowly rolled one of your nipples between his thumb and index finger, before raising his head just to watch your reaction even more closely.
"Yeah?"
His actions made you swallow hard, well aware of being at his mercy at the moment.
And yes, Eddie Munson continued the torture he was teasing you with.
"Yeah baby", he lightly poked his nose into your cheek for a second, "so what if I told you", he paused again, then kissed the corner of your mouth, "that I actually felt those little twitches", he tenderly kissed his way down over your cheek to your jaw, "throughout the whole week?"
One of his hands now left your chest, only to drop south.
He made it his mission to find out exactly what you liked. Find out what did it for you, what you wanted from him. What you needed from him.
"I'm curious to know what would happen if I touched you", he paused, lips millimeters away from the skin right beneath your ear, "here?"
A hand snaked around your figure, cupping one of your buttcheeks, the need for you heavily evident in the urgency of the touch.
You responded with another moan through closed lips, eyes closed, your hands finding the back of Eddie's neck again, lightly caressing his skin and tugging at the baby hairs there.
"Yeah, you like that baby, don't you? When I touch you here?"
A light spank.
Taking a deep breath, you nodded with a hum and another moan, cheek rubbing slowly and gently against his scruffy own as your hips involuntarily bucked up against his thigh.
Every movement was slow and gentle right now, yet heavy with hunger for each other.
Eddie noticed. Yet, he decided to take his sweeeeet time and drive you insane just a little longer.
"What about", he paused again, and you felt him smile against your neck as his hand still cupping your chest started kneading a little, rolling the nipple harder just to make sure you actually felt it, "here?"
The back of your head landed against the door with a thud as you moaned and whimpered a little louder this time, the shiteating grin on Eddie's face widening even more, obviously taking pride in his effects on you.
"You're making such pretty sounds for me, sweetheart. Would you maybe also like me to touch you", another pause, in which he moved his hand around your hips, boldly cupping the space between your legs through the thinness of your shorts, "here?"
His breath was tickling the skin on your neck, the last word nothing more than an almost inaudible whisper, traveling all the way down from your jaw to your collarbone.
"Fuck, Eddie", you whimpered out his name, completely lost in him, moving your own hands downtown to where his hellfire shirt was tucked into the waistband of his light blue jeans, just when you suddenly remembered you had a pair of your own.
Hearing you say his name made Eddie shamelessly buck his hips into yours, failing pathetically at hiding the fact that what he was doing to you was also more than enjoyable for him, since you could clearly make out the heavy bulge straining against his pants, pressed against your hip.
"Mhm yeah, such a good girl for me", Eddie chuckled watching you for another second before reuniting your lips with his own, this time with a force of need, almost greedily taking your lower lip between his own for a second, swiping his tongue along, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.
From slow and gentle to a feverish fumble of hands everywhere, it didn't take the both of you long to start freeing each other from the confines of your clothes.
Eddie had lifted your shirt off of you, finally freeing what he'd been dying to get his eyes (and hands) on, and you'd done the same to him, only to take a second to admire the few more tattoos that had until now been hiding from your gaze.
You noticed he was holding his breath, wild mane falling into the sides of his face from your ruffling during heated kisses, and the room suddenly felt a lot warmer.
The only thought in your mind was Eddie in front of you, just a small step away, now in nothing but his boxers, looking at you with an intensity you'd never seen before in him, and your fingers twitched with the desire to just touch.
You had run your hand just over the buckle of his handcuff belt, the movement of his pants against his erection already making him hiss a little. You'd run it over the fabric of the black jeans he was wearing, right where he wanted you most.
Because yeah, you could do that, too.
Eddie had found the pace in which you'd opened his belt to be way too slow, but he'd let you go with it anyway, being so lost in you and so lovedrunk (and straight up horny) that he hadn't dared to intervene.
Your slowness-slash-hesitation had a reason. The anxiety and intrusive thoughts of not being good enough, being too inexperienced decided to jump out of its dark corner inside your brain in just the right moment, causing you to back away from him, giving him a second to have his gaze wander over you.
It wasn't that you'd never done this before, there had been a guy you'd more or less been with, but this right here and now was just so different. More serious? Eddie wasn't just a guy. He was your Eddie at this point.
And however this trip would end, things would inevitably be changed between the two of you. And ultimately affect the dynamics of your friend group.
Eddie was a sensitive person. He was able to read the room, sense your hesitation. He closed the gap between you, his hand landing on your hip, bellies touching, hardness pressing against your thigh.
"Everything alright, darling?"
Cupping your cheek with his free hand, he tilted his head to find your eyes, the look in his filled with concern now, wondering if this was still okay for you.
Your arms snaked around his torso, fingertips lingering on his waist. He felt them burn through his skin.
A train of seemingly endless thoughts ran through your head, not knowing how to proceed from your lack of having done this enough times to just know, paired with the expectations you believed Eddie to have of this situation, and therefore, of you.
"Yeah, yeah", you assured him. The last thing you wanted was for him to believe he'd done anything wrong.
"It's just that", you paused, struggling to find the words to explain yourself and the rise of your performance anxiety while trying your best to avoid his puppy doe eye gaze, "I haven't really–"
A warm thumb on your lips cut you off, its hand directing your face towards his, the hand on your hip now lightly digging into the flesh there.
"I know baby, I know", Eddie said, referring to his wisdom with unknown origin to you, exhaling deeply before pressing an open mouthed kiss to your plush cheek, the gesture intending to let you know that you could be utterly honest and vulnerable with him. "Would you like me to show you", another pause, his gaze back on your face, thumb now lightly pulling down your lower lip, "what I like?"
Opening your mouth as a response, the tip of your tongue was briefly met with the tip of Eddie's thumb, causing him to twitch lightly and let out a groan through closed lips.
Everything you did and everything you were in your essence was driving him to the edge of insanity, not surprising after the months and months of thirsting after you in his desperate silence.
And his gentleness with you was making the dark imposter syndrome clouds in your head melt away like Lindor chocolate in mild temperatures.
His eyes bored into yours intently as you stuck your tongue out to meet the base of his thumb, just to drag it all the way up to the tip, before closing your lips around it and suck lightly.
"Mhhm, fuck", you heard him mutter, the effect your actions seemed to have on him giving you enough confidence to let his thumb go with a small pop, your hands still lingering on his waist pushing him a step away from you so you'd have enough space to drop to your knees, hooking your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, slowly pulling them towards gravity to finally free him.
With precum leaking from the tip, you took a second to admire Eddie's girth and length with wide eyes, and it made your mouth water and your panties even more soaked than they already were.
Taking him in your hand, you smeared the precum down to the base where a light thatch of dark curls sat, leading up to his happy trail which you'd already gotten to lay sight on on the bus, and that time frankly hadn't been the first of you imagining what the place to where that trail was leading looked like.
Leaning upwards, you kept ahold of him, kissing the soft skin of his lower belly right above his curls as his hand buried itself in your hair at the back of your head, letting out a guttural moan when you let your tongue run through the tiny hairs leading up to his navel, just to kiss your way back down again, slowly, gently, all the way over the soft expanse, taking another second to bury your nose in his skin, inhaling everything he was willing to offer you.
He was about to ask you if you could pinch him just to make sure this was reality happening right in front of him, you kneeling all pretty with your hand wrapped around his cock, now slowly lifting it and flattening your tongue at the base to lick a broad stripe up along the underside, making you feel each little vein on the way to his pink tip.
"Jesus, fuuuck, that's it baby", you just heard him encourage you, indeed letting you know what he liked, his grip on your hair tightening lightly.
The fact that you could feel him throb and twitch and hear him whimper slurred renditions of your name alongside small curses gave you a significant ego boost, causing you to find enough confidence to lock eyes with him from underneath your lashes.
"Fuck, and you were worried that you wouldn't be good at this?", Eddie chuckled as he looked down at you in disbelief, his free hand not tangled up in the strands of hair cupping your cheek to affectionately brush his thumb over it, unable to ever get the image in front of him out of his brain.
"Fucking hell, you're being soooo good for me baby, oh my god, yeah, just like that", he mumbled when you started swirling your tongue around the head, softly rubbing the tip of it over the underside every now and then, until you decided to close your lips around him, letting him feel your wet warmth.
It gave Eddie a great idea of a similar place he was dying to discover. Itching.
And it took every little ounce of willpower in him to keep his hips away from giving into the urge to thrust his entire length into the confines of your mouth, so out of respect for you, he channelled his impulses into a symphony of soft moans, quiet mutters of oh, fuck and oh my god, and whimpers of your name as you took him deeper with every bob of your head.
Every little sound escaping him only turned you on even more. You couldn't possibly get enough of seeing him all blissed out and soft for you like this, causing the vibrations of your own moans to make Eddie shudder.
However, he didn't give himself too much time to enjoy the feeling of your mouth taking him, since he was already bending down a little to lift you back up to your feet, before capturing your lips in a hot and heavy kiss while pulling you tightly into his embrace, both of his hands sliding down from your lower back and underneath the fabric of your panties, just to end their journey on your ass and roughly pull you against him.
"I'm gonna cum on the spot if you keep doing that", he'd declared, sinking his teeth into the flesh of your neck, nibbling softly at the skin, making your cheeks flush with heat.
No one had ever said that to you.
You winced at the roller coaster he put you on, his back and forth between rough and demanding and gentle and soft, but you were eating it up.
He was hypnotizing you with every touch and every grunt and every move you felt against your lips.
Not even when the backs of your knees hit the bed frame did he let go of you, resulting in him burying you into his mattress under his weight, commented with a giggle from the both of you.
Moving to your side, he reconnected his lips to your neck and you craned your head up, giving him better access while one of his hands slowly moved around to your front, cupping you through your panties, his middle finger lightly pressing into that very damp spot in the fabric, eliciting a moan out of you.
It was his turn now.
"Wanna make you feel good too, sweetness. Gonna let me, yeah?", his sultry voice didn't even wait for a response, impatient fingers moving the lace to the side before running the middle through your folds, tip of it catching your clit briefly.
"Oh fuck yes!" There it was. You breathed the words out in a whiny tone, your hand reaching down to give his still rock hard cock a few sloppy strokes in return, earning another soft moan against the junction of your jaw meeting your throat.
If the situation wasn't this hot, if Eddie's finger didn't make the room spin, you think you'd be embarrassed to no end with how pathetic your moans were sounding, but the pleasure you were experiencing and the metalhead's tender endearments you were receiving just didn't leave any space for any other feeling.
You just couldn't bring yourself to care.
Eddie didn't care either. In fact, he was bathing in your responsiveness, feeling every single one of your touches in the endings of his tiniest nerve branches. Being the touch starved, crucified town freak and all.
Your neediness for him made his insides turn and his head spin, he was still having a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that you'd let him come this close and do this to you, and your cute little whimpers made him want to give you everything you'd ever silently (or not so silently) request from him.
He felt this entire moment after moment to be a haze, a fever dream he'd wake up from at some point, and for this reason, he didn't waste a single thought on anything else but you.
How infatuated with you he was.
"Mhhm fuck, so needy for me baby, aren't you?", he remarked the way you were bucking your hips against his hand, "drives me fucking nuts."
He lifted his head just so he could watch the way your face crinkled with every slow up-and-down stroke of his finger, gathering your evident arousal on the way before gently pushing it in, indulging the way your eyes rolled into the back of your head for just a second before they opened and found the warm deep dark brown of his own.
"Mhh yes Eddie, need you so bad", you managed to get out as he added his ring finger, stretching you open a bit more under slick sounds of his hand against your cunt.
His face was so close. So close that if you turned your head just a little, your kiss swollen lips could be back on his, giving him one more confirmation that the way his fingers were curling inside of you were doing just the right job. In fact, he was finding spots you could only dream to reach on your own.
You felt more precum leak from the tip of his cock which was resting against your thigh, the slow rut of his hips against yours smearing it between your bodies, causing your brain to short-circuit at the realisation that it was you being the reason for him to act this way.
Only making you spread your legs wider.
"God baby, you're so fucking wet", he trailed off, continuing to slowly fuck his two fingers into your tight entrance, completely enticed with the way you were giving yourself to him, "is that all because of me?"
He just needed to hear you say it.
"Mhh fuck yes Eddie, all for you. For you only."
No idea how you got that out, with the way his fingers felt and the way he was looking at you, all lovedrunk and ready to give you the world.
"You gonna let me have a taste?"
Pulling his hand away and leaving you empty under a protesting whimper, he sucked the two fingers into his mouth, moaning against them without breaking eye contact and it was driving you mad. You nodded with a dazed smile.
He got up just to drop his weight between your legs, spreading them by planting his palms on the backs of your thighs firmly and pushing them up, panties still to the side.
You held your legs there when he moved his hands down, taking both thumbs to open you up for him, taking just a second to get his first actual look at your pussy and watch it glisten in the dim light of the sun casting its last rays of the day through the denseness of trees and into the room.
Eddie had fantasized plenty for literal months about the way you'd possibly look, but nothing prepared him for the actual sight in front of him.
It made you feel the most vulnerable you'd ever felt, letting him see and touch you this way, yet there was a naturalness to it that made it just so easy to give yourself to him.
Building trust with him seemed to be the easiest thing for you. Surprising yourself there, aren't ya?
And when his tongue shyly took its first swirl around your clit? Nothing was ever easier than Eddie.
Waves of pleasure took over your brain with every lap of his mouth, taking you between his lips, licking, sucking, swirling, slurping, making your thighs twitch with every single one of his moves, and he was (quite literally) eating your responsiveness up, each of his moans against the most sensitive part of your body becoming deeper in sound.
He noticed he could cum just from tasting you as he found his hips inconsistently humping the mattress, hearing your sweet chants as one of your hands found its way back into his unruly mane, encouraging him further in his actions.
"Fuuuck baby, I need you. Need all of you, please?", you whimpered just when the heat in your lower stomach was about to reach its peak, raising your head as your eyes encountered the way he was watching you from underneath his bangs sticking to his forehead, the hand not entangled in his hair busy fisting his bedsheets.
That was the only thing he needed to hear.
You could feel him smile, continuing to do so as he pushed himself up on his knees and crawling a few inches forward to be eye to eye hovering over you, chin, lips and tip of his nose glistening with your juices, the ends of his dark curls tickling your cheeks. He helped you wriggle out of your panties swiftly, discarding them on the cabin floor to join the rest of your clothes, hands resting on the softness of your thighs as he knelt back to sit on his heels.
He felt his dick twitch between his legs, seeing you lying and spread out underneath in front of him, in all your glory, ready to let him take you where you wanted to be most.
The vision tugging at his heartstrings, knowing how much trust you were instilling in him in order for you to let him go this far with you.
"Eddie, please."
You pushed yourself up to meet his lips, planting one hand on the back of his neck, the other hooked a finger into the chain dangling down like a collar, and without breaking away you pulled him back down with you.
"Yeah? Wanna feel me fill your pretty little pussy?", he breathed out, hands back on your thighs, digging into their plushness.
You believed to hear Eddie's voice to drop an octave, now leaning back again to let the underside of his cock slowly glide through your soaked folds, the head catching on your clit deliciously, making your head spin from having him do this to you.
"God, yes", you moaned out, watching him through heavy eyelids.
Eddie smiled his dimpled smile down at your face, reveling in the sight as he let the tip breach your sopping entrance, giving him an idea of how tightly his cock would be sitting inside of you.
His eyes were fixated on the spot where your bodies were now joined, slowly pushing another inch in as you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting him closer.
"Eyes on me, baby", Eddie mouthed at your jawline as he leaned back down to place a quick kiss there, right when he noticed you zoning out, focusing on taking him as best as you possibly could.
Once again your eyes found the warm gaze he was observing your every move with, and soon you felt his lips back on your own, kissing you softly as he slowly pushed all the way in, forcing a gasp out of your lungs at the feeling of utter fullness.
For a moment, the world stopped.
Eddie blinked at you through half-lidded eyes now, nudging his nose against your own before capturing your lips in another heated kiss, sending both of your tongues dancing and a moan from the pit of his lungs vibrated through your system.
Your hands moved up to cup his face, holding him close to you as his trailed up the underside of your thighs, before pushing your knees towards your chest, practically bending you in half and slowly starting to move his hips against your own when he felt you adjust to him.
"Oh fuck, fuuuck you're so tight", Eddie sighed, eyes falling shut at the feeling of your cunt sucking him in like that, and his words ringing through your ears, and hearing him admit to you what you were making him feel? It made you clench around him briefly, goosebumps spread over every inch of your body at the words forming on his tongue.
You were just so warm and wet and soft and so so tight, completely fucked out for him and him only.
"Eyes on me, baby", you repeated his own words back to him with a smile and glassy eyes, completely stunned to feel him like this, slowly filling and leaving you again.
Opening his eyes again to meet your gaze, his lips curled into a wide smile at your sentiment, "gonna be soft with you, unless you want me not to be, yeah?", he leaned down to plant a kiss on the corner of your mouth, forearms now resting on each side of your head, before his last words were nuzzled against your ear, "just tell me, sweetnose."
With his announcement he gave you a few more slow and gentle thrusts, getting both of you used to the feeling, before he moved back up again, holding your thighs spread out against your chest, his eyes glued to where his heavy cock slid in and out of your sopping slick hole.
Heat was spreading through his body, an excessive amount of endorphines circulating through his veins, transporting the desire and hunger for you into the tiniest endings of his nerves, causing his entire system to be in the moment with you.
Same thing applied to you.
It didn't take long for him to pick up the pace, right after he moved a pillow under your hips, with the aim to hit your sweet spot at just the right angle, slide his entire length in even deeper, making the tip kiss your cervix repeatedly.
Moans and whimpers and grunts and groans from both your mouths where conjuring a whole opera of beautiful sounds you both were reveling in equally as you moved your hips to meet his repeated thrusting, tip of his cock brushing over that spot inside of you each time he moved in to fill the space between your drenched walls.
His entire weight was on you, since he wanted to sink his teeth back into the soft flesh of your neck, nibbling and sucking at the skin there. Your hands found a home in his hair, gently scratching his scalp, sending his eyes rolling into the back of his head, and you felt a puddle slowly take its form on the cover of the pillow tucked underneath your ass.
He was so deep, so so deep inside of you, his eyes bored themselves through yours straight into your soul, foreheads touching.
"Fuck, fuck, Eddie, feels so good", you babbled and moaned against his stubbly cheek, your heavy breath tickling down his own neck, "need more."
The knot in your lower abdomen was already tightening, getting ready to snap from just his feral thrusts and the beguiling way he was eyeing you.
"Yeah baby? Wanna cum for me?"
Your neediness made him chuckle, raising himself up and back on his heels, a strong arm wrapping around your torso and pulling you up with him, into his lap, letting one of his hands rest on and dig into your plush thigh.
He let himself drop on his butt, the hand on your thigh slowly trailing up up up, fingertips and palm climbing softly all the way over your back to come and stay on the back of your neck, encasing you fully and pressing you against his chest, letting you know he needed you just as close as you needed him.
Without even thinking about it your hips started moving against his as you straddled him, your kiss swollen lips finding his own again, panting into each others mouths, and soon enough the knot between your legs came close to snapping, from the change of position, the length of his cock now gliding smoothly against your clit with each rock of your hips, creating the delicious friction you so desperately craved.
"Yes baby, that's it, lose it for me, oh god fuck!", Eddie panted as he felt your hips starting to stutter, his words sending you over the edge, cunt spasming and clenching around him, your frantic breaths hitting his face as your head was thrown back.
He was soaking you up with all the sweet sounds you were making for him, helping you ride out your high, hands moving down to your ass to lift you, just after announcing his own release through a sickeningly deep moan and mumbles of "oh fuck baby, so close, gonna make me– oh shit", hot and sticky saltiness joining your sweet juices, landing in the tight space between your bellies, painting undefinable patterns onto the heated skin.
For another eternity you held each other close, felt his breathing against your shoulder and collarbone as he dipped his head to place a kiss to your throat, moving his hands away from your back to cup your face, pressing his lips to yours, not wanting to let the moment go just yet.
And then, he dropped the bomb.
"Say that you're mine", he still panted, forehead leaning against yours, noses touching as your hands cupped his on top of your cheeks.
It made you chuckle, the fact he was asking this now after fucking you into another dimension, and it made your thumbs brush over the backs of his palms.
You sensed the tension still present in every fiber of his being with the way he was holding onto your face, still needing you close, and since you knew about his abandonment issues to some extent, seeing him all vulnerable like this was tugging at your heartstrings to no end.
None of his usual slightly cocky tone, just pure softness and an open heart was what presented itself to you.
Say that you're mine.
Of course you were his.
Your facial expression softened endlessly, you felt all your insides melt into one big puddle, mouth forming into a small pout, one hand coming down to rest on his own cheek, closing the gap and slotting your lower lip in between his.
You wanted him to feel the amount of affection you had for him, in your eyes, in your kiss, in your touch.
He was supposed to feel loved. Like he should always have felt that he was loved.
"I'm all yours, Eddie. But only if you're all mine."
The look in your eyes said it all. The one in his, too.
Yeah. He was your Eddie. Your seat partner. Your magnet.
Eddie pulled you into him, as if hearing the words come out of your mouth and the way you were looking at him all soft and gooey made all his angst about being dropped and left again slowly vanish.
"I'll need some time to get used to this", he paused, not daring to meet your eye, "I mean, to someone that doesn't just leave after a while."
Since being this close to someone emotionally was about equally far away from any routine for you as well, you met him with utmost understanding.
"That's okay. We're in no rush, right?", you kissed the corner of his mouth, small pecks over the stubbly cheek opposite of where your hand was placed.
You were able to watch him get too much into his head as you spoke.
"You sure about that? I don't think the law of seat partners extends to–"
Your lips pressed to his own cut him off, "you don't need a silly law to make me wanna spend time with you, Munson."
A quick journey of your eyes over his beautiful face, his eyes widened, eyebrows raised, lips curled into a pretty smile, cheeks all rosy and forehead bangs sticking to his forehead from your most recent activities.
"Actually, I've been dreaming of you – and this – since I met you at Steve's for the first time and Dustin introduced you to me as his ultra handsome dungeon master, you remember?", you continued, hoping it would give him an idea how how much you'd been wistfully pining after him, an idea about how wanted he was.
Of course Eddie remembered.
It was the night he had left way earlier than usual because he just couldn't stand being around you without making a colossal fool out of himself for already wanting to be close to you after just thirty minutes of being in the same room, afraid to be coming on way too strong for his reputation and, speaking from experience, ultimately scare you away.
His hands dropped from your face, two strong arms wrapping themselves back around your figure as he breathed in your sweat-sticky scent, desperately trying one more time to glue this memory into the long-term department of his brain.
"Wait, does that mean I could have .. could've had you .. all this time?"
A chuckle escaped your lips, before leaning into him once more, planting another sweet kiss to his mouth.
"Yeah silly, ... all this time."
-----
Home was calling you back into the bleak reality of trying to graduate high school, and you were far from missing it.
Nancy using her famous organizational talents had made sure that Robin wouldn't leave her special pillow behind, and instructed you to look extra carefully for any items that might have flown behind the bedframe.
And she was correct. You'd blindly reached for a little white framed polaroid, only to discover that it was the one of Eddie with his flower crown, eyes squeezed shut, grinning like an absolute idiot.
He still, maybe even more so now, looked angelic.
You'd never forgive yourself if you'd leave that one here.
The ride home was spent with your head on Prince Metal's shoulder for the most part, your back practically lying on his chest, huddled up against him.
And it did take all the strength in the both of you to not constantly be all over each other, especially under the scrutinizing eyes of your teachers.
A few pecks were stolen here and there, the feeling of being entirely lovedrunk making it hard to separate. Thankfully, for the foreseeable future, you didn't have to.
The group had just shot you knowing looks at breakfast, Max, Robin and the older guys who had seen you wrapped (and very covered up, Eddie had made sure of that) in Eddie's sheets in the morning responsible for not being able to keep their beaks shut.
For the long hours you'd be spending on the road, Eddie had organized a restock of snacks at the only supermarket in the first town you'd stopped at on the way.
"As your designated seat partner, it is so hard to keep my hands to myself", you mumbled into the fabric of the dark and washed out Metallica shirt covering his shoulder with a sheepish grin, as your hand slowly disappeared into the bag on his lap, pulling out whatever box of cookies he'd chosen.
Eddie couldn't help but snort at your innuendo and the way you were using his own joke on him in return.
Lowering his head, planting his cheek against your temple, whispers.
"Oh baby, just wait until we're home."
-----
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emeraldspiral · 4 months
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Sometimes I wonder about the amount of Zimfluence there was in Avatar.
Like, I've already talked about how Aang defeating Ozai through sheer willpower is reminiscent of Zim overpowering the Control Brains with raw insanity in The Trial, how LoK's ending resembles the post-cancellation ending comic where Zim and Dib leave earth to go frolicking in space together, and how Mai's sour, apathetic attitude being the result of feeling pressured to behave herself all the time to please her parents is similar to Gaz trying to win her father's approval by being the Good Child to Dib's Problem Child.
But like, more than a few people at Nick, including co-creator Bryan Konietzko, worked on Zim before Avatar, and members of the Zim crew have expressed regrets about the show being cancelled and not getting to explore things that they had wanted to. So it'd honestly be more weird of Zim didn't have an influence on Avatar.
So let's consider some of the similarities between the shows and elements that may have been inspired by things people wanted to explore with Zim but never got the chance to.
Like, to begin with, the premise of both shows is that there's a war instigated by an Imperial colonizing force that wants to wipe out and/or enslave all other races and take everything over. It's not a super original concept but there are more specific similarities.
Both shows, rather than just having one protagonist that the story centers around, have a protagonist and a deuteragonist, who both have their own stories which are separate yet interconnected to form one large picture integral to the overall narrative. Both sets of characters are both boys who due to circumstances are pitted against each other on opposite sides of the war but have the potential to be great friends if they didn't have that conflict in the way.
Both Zim and Zuko are banished for stepping out of line and sent on a fool's errand at the beginning of the story to keep them from interfering in the war and embarrassing their leaders. Both are determined to succeed and willfully deceive themselves into believing that the ones who sent them on their missions really do expect them to because they're so desperate for their love and approval. Zim and Zuko both have a second rival (Tak & Zhao) looking to make a name for themselves by stepping on their toes, and Zim & Zuko both end up committing treason by teaming up with their main rivals to stop their secondary rivals from succeeding and robbing them of the victories their self-worth hinges on.
Dib and Zuko are both obsessed with capturing a singularly unique individual in their world in order to win their father's love, but even if/when they succeed it doesn't get them what they want. With Zuko, he realizes that his father only loves him conditionally, and that's not real love at all. With Dib, he realizes that his father does love him unconditionally, but in ETF, the comic Dib's Dilemma, and the Zimvoid storyline it's made clear that Membrane will never believe Dib or respect his chosen field of science, regardless of whether he defeats Zim or not. So defeating Zim isn't the key to his happiness either, although Dib has yet to come to that realization.
The Membrane family and the Fire Nation Royal family both have a single dad with two kids, a boy and a girl, with the boy being the eldest. The boy is supposed to be his father's successor but he and his father disagree and his father refuses to accept his son's dissenting opinions and makes the son feel that he has to earn his father's love and approval by accomplishing something great. The daughter resents her brother and tries to prove that she's more worthy of their father's love by being a Daddy's Girl who acts more like the child he wants. The son is known for being a loser while the daughter is known for being incredibly scary. Both are strong and talented, but the daughter seems to better at everything with less effort while the son is unfairly maligned. The daughter gets treated better by their father, but he's still not really being a good father to her. Although the son is motivated by a selfish desire to prove himself to his father and fueled by a lot of anger, he has a good heart deep down and cares about doing the right thing while the daughter doesn't really care about anything except pleasing her dad and her own gratification.
Dib and Gaz are also somewhat like Sokka and Katara in that they have to more or less raise themselves because their mom is gone and their dad's preoccupied with important world-saving work that keeps him away from them. Katara feels that she has to step up into the role of a mother, despite being the younger sibling, while Gaz is often tasked with wrangling her brother. Sokka and Dib both fantasize about being heroes and making their fathers proud, but are a bit too cocky and get in over their heads their first time facing a real enemy combatant and have to learn to think more strategically and sort out their priorities.
Many fans see Zim as a victim of the society that created him, who's just doing what he does because it's the only way he can feel valued or loved, and wish that if the series had continued he would realize he was being played for a fool and turn his back on the people he'd been trying so hard to please, realize what he'd been doing was wrong, befriend his rival, and become a hero fighting back against the Imperialist regime. And that's exactly what Zuko ends up doing. Also, something at least one of the writers has said they would've done with Azula had the series continued.
Azula is mostly shown as cold and ruthless throughout the series, but near the end she starts to show more vulnerability, starting with the Beach episode. In that episode, her obsession with competition and asserting dominance to affirm her superiority is played for comedy, which makes the similarities between her and Zim stand out much more than it normally does when the series frames her as dead serious. The scene where she awkwardly flirts by telling a guy they could dominate the earth together in particular always gave me Zim vibes from the first time I saw it. There's also one scene where she makes one of her only friends cry and actually feels bad about it and apologizes, similar to the scene in Walk of Doom where Zim thinks he's made GIR cry and tries to make him feel better. Both scenes stand out as rather uncharacteristic for two characters who are usually cruel and callous and don't care about anyone else's feelings.
Zim and Azula also both have huge, but fragile egos, believing themselves to be better than everyone and unable to accept being less than perfect. They both derive their sense of self worth from having power over others and believing that they were just born better, regard themselves as above the need for genuine friendship, view love as a weakness, and consider everyone in their orbit as either an asset to be used and discarded or an obstacle toward getting what they want.
One of the most popular concepts to explore in Zim fanfic is the idea of Zim's ego being broken by the realization that his mission is a lie and breaking down over it, and that's exactly what we get from Azula when she realizes the control she thought she had over her friends and the prize her father was dangling in front of her the whole time were just as fake as Zim's mission.
Bonus: The most popular ship in the fandom is a Red/Blue ETL ship which the creators hate but board artists draw fanart of in their free time and the voice actors are willing to indulge for the fans. Also, it used to have a large hatedom that was just upfront about not liking it because it got in the way of other ships, but then a new generation discovered it on Netflix and now people dress up their petty reasons for disliking it with purity culture BS about it being "problematic".
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tippenfunkaport · 1 year
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Bow's Character Arc
There was a discussion on Twitter from people who were confused about Bow’s character arc and whether he had one (he very much does, and it’s actually one of the clearest / most spelled out in the entire show!). To help anyone experiencing that confusion and because it’s never a bad idea to understand how character arcs work if you want to be a writer/storyteller, I might as well break Bow’s character arc down for anyone who might find it helpful.
Buckle in, it's nerd time!
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At the most basic, a character arc is a change (usually growth) a character goes through over the course of a story. Usually good (positive change arc) but sometimes bad (negative change arc). It’s very often a reversal aka the character is often in the exact opposite state by the end of the story than how they start it out. It can be trickier to follow in an ensemble story like SPOP because there are a lot of characters with parallel story lines going on and multiple arcs colliding in different ways, but She-Ra does a really good job of giving each of the four leads arcs (with Catradora as the main leads, Glimbow as the secondary) near equal time.
Yes, including Bow.
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What I think throws people about Bow’s arc is it’s based on hypocrisy.
Meaning…
He encourages his friends to talk it out and share their feelings… while hiding his own feelings from his dads and repressing his frustrations with having to be the middle man between Adora and Glimmer (Season 4)
He declares that average people (such as the kitchen staff at Dryl) don’t need the princesses and are just as capable of fighting the Horde themselves… while he believes himself and his abilities inferior to Princess Entrapta’s
He reminds the others (esp Adora) about the need to accept help… while refusing any help for himself (think about “Don't worry about me. I'm the one who worries about you. Can we go back to that? Please?” in Pulse through to that moment when he agrees to let Glimmer take him to check on his dads in Return to the Fright Zone and literally leans on her)
I think a funny way to sum up his character issue is: Not me, though.
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This arc progresses across all five season as he gradually changes. He starts the series out repressing his feelings from both his family and friends while doubting his abilities and refusing to ask for help (he IS Adora’s mirror, after all!). Over the course of the series he learns to express his feelings instead of bottling them up (The Beacon > Reunion > really all of Season 4 but it comes to head starting with Boys Night Out through Beast Island > Stranded), gains more confidence in his tech skills (The Frozen Forest > Signals > Flutterina > Mer-Mysteries > Corridors), and starts to learn to ask for help (The Beacon > Pulse > Return to the Fright Zone).
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Which of course all culminates in The Heart Parts 1 and 2 where he finally wraps up all threads at once by
a) asking Scorpia to trust him (putting faith in someone else to help)
b) completing Entrapta’s program to unchip everyone (proving he IS as good a scientist as she is)
c) giving the speech to everyone on Etheria rousing the common people to fight Prime (average people can make a difference… which he now fully believes that includes him).
And while you can make the argument that confessing to Glimmer is part of his arc to share his feelings, the fact is that he completes a full character arc without ever behind reduced to just someone’s love interest because none of his character growth is tied to his romantic relationship at all (which was what the original tweet claimed). It's all his inner journey to have faith in himself and his abilities and how they relate to his friends and loved ones.
And thus the guy who starts the series as “only one around here who’s not a princess” with doubt in his tech abilities ends the series as confident Tech Master and future King of the regular people he sought to inspire, which is about as textbook a reversal as you can get.
Does it come out of nowhere?
His character arc progresses and takes significant focus in the following episodes….
S1:E6 System Failure
S1:E10 The Beacon
S2:E1 The Frozen Forest
S2:E3 Signals
S2:E7 Reunion
S4:E3 Flutterina
S4:E4 Pulse
S4:E7 Mer-Mysteries
S4:E8 Boys Night Out
S4:E10 Fractures
S4:E11 Beast Island
S5:E3 Corridors
S5:E4 Stranded
S5:E9 An Ill Wind
S5:E10 Return to the Fright Zone
S5:E12 Heart Part 1
S5:E13 Heart Part 2
That’s 17 episodes out of 52 which means his character development gets approximately 32% of the focus of the entire show… which for an ensemble cast like this where he’s one of four leads is just about dead on as it's over a quarter of the episodes.
That's a significant chunk of screentime with multiple episodes devoted specifically to his character journey.
Is his journey as flashy and action sequence-y as what Adora, Catra and Glimmer get? No, but it's a) a show marketed to girls so it makes sense they get the more cinematic scenes and b) his arc is more emotional and thus didn't need to hinge on big action like theirs did. Though considering the culmination of his arc is him as a 100 foot tall hologram speaking to the entire planet, I personally feel like that was pretty hard to miss.
If you look at all of this and still want to say that Bow did nothing or had no character arc, I think the thing to ask yourself is: why is it so important to you to discount the accomplishments and character growth of this character specifically?
In conclusion, this is the face Bow makes when he spent five season growing, changing and kicking butt as Tech Master and Voice of Reason and you say he did "literally nothing"...
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