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riaki · 6 months

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i literally cant stop thinkin’ about highschoolbully!gojo who used to be your ride or die ‘til he started getting attention from those popular jock type guys who are always assholes to everyone. and him being.. well, him means he preens under attention no matter who it’s from, so naturally he started to gravitate towards that group and their little troop of cheerleading fangirls. and then he started distancing from you and without either of you really realizing it, you’ve slipped between the other’s fingers. but the way he acts towards you makes you think he let you fall without moving a muscle to slow you down.

soon enough, a year swings by and by the end of it he’s gone from your life, save as just another face in the gaggle of boys who make crude jokes and laugh at smart kids and pop milk cartoons during lunch just for the hell of it. but you’re minding your own business, ‘cause you’re mature enough to realize that people come and go, no matter how close you might’ve been and you think it’s unfortunate that so many memories could be thrown aside in a blink of an eye, but it makes a lot of sense when you walk past satoru and his friends bullying some random kid. you don’t know him, but you’ve heard enough to realize it’s his girlfriend satoru’s flirting with while his ‘gang’ kick at the kid. and it’s sickening, but you don’t say anything when you walk by.

and when you don’t ever see the kid afterward and catch the dark eyebags under his girlfriend’s eyes, you come to the cruel realization that satoru isn’t the boy who’d bandage the scrape on your knee you got from tripping in the playground or buy you a soda because he’s noticed your sweat when you were walking home and you don’t have any money left on you.

it’s a glass half empty, half full type of situation. on the one hand, you don’t have him anymore. on the other hand, you don’t have him anymore. that is, you lost your best friend, but you’ve also lost someone who has the potential to absolutely ruin your life. and you don’t know whether to be glad or not, so you just mind your own business even if it hurts a little when he ignores you, stops tossing paper at your head in class (unless it’s to embarrass you) and stops walking you to and from school.

but the cherry on top of the shit cake is that he doesn't get it. so when he approaches you in the library one day after satiating the need to tear pages from books and make them into paper airplanes to throw at people, he doesn't seem to understand why you try to ignore him, or put off his attempts to hold a convo. but the worst part is that he's just sleazy and clueless about it. it's like he took an eraser and wiped every single year of your friendship off the chalkboard with one fell swipe, and you wish he'd done that too to the less-than-appropriate messages he and his friends had written towards one of your classmates.

he doesn't understand why you're hesitant to talk, and that's what makes it the worst. he always thinks he's in the right, and he keeps setting you off and it sucks that he knows exactly what sets you off. "i'm an asshole? what're you talking about? really, you're in over your head. you never change." he laughs, and you ignore him, and he gets bored, and he's about to leave when he spots your wallet open next to your book, on the table. there's a polaroid peeking out, and he recognizes the tufts of white hair to be him. but there's a weird feeling in his chest, and he thinks he gets it from you, so he leaves because he thinks you're weird.

and it goes on; you practically become a nobody in satoru's eyes, because of that weird, weird feeling you give him. it's unfamiliar and he's never gotten it before and he doesn't like it. but it's unavoidable when your professor pairs you two for the end-of-term project. and of course, you're ready to do all the work, because that's how it always was between you when you were kids. but sometimes he'd surprise you by helping, and he'd show you that he was actually intelligent just to earn your praise because he liked it. but he ignored you, and you did everything, and it would've been okay if not for his friends egging him on to present your entire project when the day came and leave you with no content for a grade.

that's the first time it hits him: does he really want to do that? but it's not like it'll be the first time; you've always taken the hits for him, because you're naturally smart and you'll pick yourself back up in no time, and you get why he does it, so it'll be okay. so he agrees, and he enjoys the time he gets to spend with you through it, but the nagging weird feeling that blooms in his chest like a pesky weed only grows stronger. that's all his feelings ever seem to do around you.

but before you know it, presentation day swings around. you had coffee this morning (on his card), and you're ready enough to shoot him a small smile that sends his heart a-flutter. so you go up, feeling up to the task and ready until— he starts talking, and talking, and talking, and people don't think that he's taking your words out of your mouth because he's intelligent when he wants to make you praise him and you don't get the chance to get a word in and you notice the guys are laughing and hitting each other's shoulders to themselves in the upper rows and before you know it it's over. people are clapping but moreso they're looking at you and they're whispering— but it's terribly loud and they don't bother to hide it. they call you things that shouldn't bother you but they do anyway, because it's satoru's fault, and you're such a fool for thinking you could have it your way again.

so you leave class early, excusing yourself and ignoring the way your professor gives you a distasteful look and scribbles something next to your name. you're out the door in a second, neglecting your bags and satoru's a little lost because— didn't he just do good? people were clapping, and laughing with him and not at him, but it's attention either way so he doesn't mind. so why do you? why did you look at him like he stabbed you in the back? and his friends are calling his name, and he wishes he could chase after you and do something but he doesn't.

and it's a little sickening what they do next; one of their girls grabbed your bags and tossed it to them, and they've started rifling through it as if they own it, tearing up your shit and dumping everything onto the ground and he's kind of just... glued to the chair by his feelings. his heart feels like it's been patched together and the weird fuzzy feeling he had in his chest that's been cultivating has extinguished to be replaced with something he realizes he's only ever felt when it comes to you— guilt.

he's so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't realize his friend is silently offering him something— nudging his side to get his attention. he takes it without really realizing he moved his hand, and his silent friend with the gauges in his ears and the dark hair gets up and leaves without another word. when satoru looks down, he realizes he's been given your wallet. "the reward for betraying your baby," they call it. like all you're worth is the money in your account.

he's a little curious. that's how he's always been; asking you questions, rummaging through your stuff, laughing sheepishly and shaking it off when you caught him red-handed. so he opens it up, ignoring your sad little cards and the funny look on your license. he's looking for something, subconsciously; but he doesn't find it. there's no white tuft of hair to suggest his presence in your life; just empty black leather. nothing else.

and he doesn't see you after. or the following day. or the following weeks; weeks that turn into months that turn into the end of school and he's graduating but you're not by his side. and neither are his so called 'friends'; the only thing he has to their name is your own ruined friendship. it's a shame; he feels alone. very alone. no fuzzy weird feeling, not even that thing people call guilt. no attention to chase, and connections are ever harder to make. it shouldn'tve mattered that much, right? it was just a presentation. why wouldn't you just come back to him like you always did? were you not still friends...?

but the blood is still on his hands, and he doesn't manage to ever wash it off. guilt has a way of festering; of weighing on the heart 'till there's nothing left to feel or think but unfortunate circumstance and what could've been done differently. it just sucks that he never tried hard enough to keep you from slipping between his grasp. and now, he doesn't even have a polaroid to your friendship's name.

pt.2

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assumptionprime · 9 months

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"I Just Don't Think That's Going To Happen"

Good news: I finally made a new comic!

Bad news: It's about something that sucks! If the good news here outweighs the bad, maybe support me on Patreon.

In the midst of talking about how much this sucks, I am extremely fortunate to even be able to move to somewhere safer. Please support those who can't, or who need a helping hand to go somewhere they can be themselves. (Give trans people money)

[Image description: Comic, sixteen panels. Panel 1: Robin speaking on her phone, clearly distressed, tears in her eyes: "I'm telling you that I'm scared. These people-- the kind of people you vote for-- want to take my health care, my rights away from me. I'm afraid I'm going to have to leave my home." The voice from the phone answers: "Well," Large dialogue text in a large white space between panels: "I just don't think that's going to happen." Panel 2: Robin, wide eyes still tearing up, stares in disbelief at her phone. Panel 3: A website heading "Home > News" above a headline that reads "Utah just banned gender-affirming healthcare for transgender kids. These 21 other states are considering similar bills in 2023." Panel 4: Another headline reads "Health care for transgender adults becomes new target in 2023 legislative session." sub heading continues: "Lawmakers prefiled many anti-trans bills ahead of state--" Panel 5: Robin looking at a tablet screen, concerned. Panel 6: Robin siting on a couch, watching TV. A speaker on the TV says: "After the anti-LGBTQ+ campaign prompted several protests and bomb threats made against the Boston facility, the group has now turned its gaze toward the Gender Health Program at Vanderbilt Medical Center in Nashville." Panel 7: Several headlines: "New Tennessee bill banning 'male or female impersonators' in public could criminalize drag performers and trans people" "Missouri lawmakers ban transgender care for minors, restrict coverage for adults" "Tennessee has passed a ban on gender affirming health care for trans kids. The bill's exceptions may only exist on paper" They headlines are accompanied by a map showing the severity of anti-transgender legislation in different US states. Panel 8: Robin's spouse Jordan sitting on the couch, looking up from her laptop toward Robin. Robin is gripping her arm tightly, a look of distress and sadness on her face, tears welling in her eyes. Jordan says "That's it. We're leaving." Panel 9: Robin taping the top of a cardboard moving box, looking over her shoulder toward Jordan, who is saying something as she walks away holding another box. More boxes are stacked behind them. Panel 10: Robin sitting at a table with a large stack of paperwork and holding a pen. She is leaning back and groaning: "Eughhhhhh" Panel 11: Robin standing with three friends, embracing as one of them speaks "I'm glad we got to see you before you left. We'll miss you." Panel 12: Jordan and Robin standing by the open trunk of their car. Several bags and suitcases are loading into the back. Jordan is shoving things in tighter and grumbling "It WILL fit!" Robin, holding a vacuum compression bag of full of clothing that has yet to go in the trunk, looks unsure. Panel 13: Robin and Jordan standing in the empty house, lights off, with sunlight coming in from the windows in the back doors and lighting them from behind. Robin looks upset, Jordan has a comforting hand on her shoulder. Panel 14: Jordan and robin sitting in the very full car, their dog in the back seat. Jordan is driving, Robin in the passenger seat looking out the window. Panel 15: Robin, still in the passenger seat of the car, now propping her head up with her hand on her cheek. She is looking down, seeming morose. Large dialogue text in a large white space between panels: "I just don't think that's going to happen." Panel 16: closer shot on Robin. Her gaze has shifted outside the window, her expression is now bitter, with tears gathering in her eyes.]

#comic #art #trans #trans stuff #transgender

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ddejavvu · 8 months

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wait your new hotch blurb got me thinking what about they got secretly married and everyone knows that hotch is married they just don’t know it’s to bau!reader because he seemed very genuine in the wanting privacy so (after complaining) they respected that, and maybe one of the team members sees hotch and bau!reader kissing in the hallway of a hotel or something and confront him about cheating on his wife

"How could you cheat on your wife?"

Penelope's harsh, degrading accusation hits Aaron directly in the chest, through the layers of stoicism that he's come to forge over the years of working in criminal investigation and straight to his heart.

All Hotch can manage is a, "What?", and Penelope's eyes dim further.

"Don't do that, Hotch. I saw you. I saw you and Y/N kissing in your office. How could you do that to your wife?"

She looks so crestfallen that Aaron's chest actually aches, so unprepared to see the famously bubbly Penelope Garcia close to tears. Close to tears because of him, no less.

Aaron might have chosen his words more carefully if he hadn't been so startled by Penelope's unusual devastation, but his jumbled brain forgoes its job and his mouth takes over, uttering the thoughtless statement, "That's- that's what she's there for."

And in his mind, it's true, if not the complete truth. You are there for him to kiss, you're there to be kissed and loved and appreciated and cherished, but he's momentarily forgotten that Penelope doesn't know that you and his mystery wife are the same person, and his words so easily warp into possessiveness and disregard.

Her face contorts into a mixture of disgust and rage that could take out a serial killer, and he seriously considers recruiting her as Chief Lecturer of the BAU, "Hotch? How- how could you say that? That your wife is just- just some thing to wait on you while you run off with someone else? You- Aaron, I can't believe you, I thought you were better than that!"

She tries storming away, tears budding in her eyes but Aaron catches her elbow, ignoring the way she flails and squirms at his touch.

"Let go of me!" She tearily demands, but he grabs her by the other arm now, holding both of her shoulders.

"No, Penelope, listen-" He tries, reminding himself to send her to Derek later for a self-defense lesson, because the weak shoves that she's pushing at his chest with do very little.

"No! No, I'm tired of listening to men," She shrieks, "You were supposed to be better than that, Aaron! I trusted you, you were supposed to be the kind of man that I could admire, and- but you're not! You're just like the rest of them, you're some egotistical, possessive, heavy-handed, domineering son of a-!"

"Y/N is my wife." Aaron cuts her off, his voice slightly raised, but not harsh. Never harsh, not to the sniffling mess of ruffles and glitter in his arms that handed him her resume on pink stationary all those years ago.

She falls silent, finally, but her lips still tremble. Aaron squeezes her arms tighter, not rough but comforting, "Y/N is my wife. We married privately late last year. We kept it secret for safety reasons, but I'll admit we didn't need to hide it from all of you. I was not cheating on my wife, I would never-" He thinks momentarily of Haley, of the gut-wrenching sound of her cell phone ringing with a call she wasn't brave enough to answer in front of him, "I would never do that to Y/N."

It's a lot of new information to process, and Aaron grants Penelope all the time she needs to work through it. When her red-stained lips part again she breathes, "You married Y/N?"

"I did." Aaron nods, and though it's not the time to smile, he can't help that a ghostly one flits over his features at the mere thought of the day he'd married you, "I'll show you pictures when we're done here. Penelope, you can trust me. I don't blame you for accusing me- in fact, I'm glad that you did. I'm glad that your loyalty isn't blind. But Y/N is my wife, and that's why I kissed her."

A very wobbly, "Oh." Is all that Penelope can manage, and she sniffles again, staring at his tie rather than his face as he holds her steady in the hallway. He's glad that they've both shown up early for the day, but you're due to return with coffee for the three of you any minute now, and he offers her his pocket square to wipe beneath her eyes.

"You said-" She chokes out sheepishly, voice unsteady as she smears the tears off of her cheeks, "You said you have pictures?"

That's how you find them when you return, seated on the couch in his office peering down at his phone. You have to set the tray you'd been carrying down on Aaron's desktop before you can properly greet either of them, but you're immediately alarmed by the tears streaked over Garcia's cheeks when she stands to face you.

"You-" She starts, not giving you a second to speak, "-are a rat! You got married," She gushes, and Aaron chuckles deeply from beside her, standing and pocketing his phone.

"You got married to our boss, and you told me nothing," She hisses, but slumps so easily into your chest for a hug that you're more than willing to give her.

"I'm sorry, Penny," You gush, squeezing her tight, "We just- we were worried about safety. The more people we told, the more dangerous it would become, so we didn't share it with anyone. But- but we should have told the team, I know."

She sniffles and you draw back to pick up her drink from behind you, sugary and pink and topped with a thick layer of whipped cream, "I got you a drink. Forgive me?"

"Reluctantly," She tries scowling, but she's never been very good at it. She takes the drink from you huffily, jamming the straw inside and taking a drag at the thick liquid. It's barely nine in the morning, far too early for the concoction she's sipping, but she nods after she draws back from the straw.

"This is delicious," She decides, "And you two are traitors, and I'm telling everyone about this."

"You should," Aaron laughs, stepping up behind you to press his shoulder to your own. It's comforting just having him there, and you relax against him as Penelope takes her leave.

"I mean it," She warns, wiping another stray tear from her cheek and sipping at her strawberry drink, "I'm telling everyone. I'm- I'm gonna hire some guy to fly a plane over the city, and the banner is gonna say, 'Y//N Y/L/N and Aaron Hotchner got married without me'."

"That's fair," You nod, not bothering to bite back a grin as she lingers in the doorway of Aaron's office.

"And so help me god," She narrows her eyes at you, once more falling just short of intimidating, "If you try to take some extended-sick-leave time, and I find out you're hiding a pregnancy from me? No amount of frappuccinos in the world will make up for it!"

"Noted," You call out as she leaves, and Aaron's hand comes up to press against the near-indiscernible bulge of your belly before the door even clicks shut.

"She's good." Aaron observes, and you reach for your own non-caffeinated drink with a grin that's hard to drink through.

"Let's tell her about the baby at lunch," You propose, "I think she's more than earned a secret to keep."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

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hairmetal666 · 11 months

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The note shows up in Eddie's mailbox cubby on Valentine's Day.

It's nothing fancy, loopy cursive handwriting on lined paper:

"I know this is probably silly but I can't go another day without saying it, and today seems appropriate for this kind of confession. Seeing you in the morning is the best part of my day. You're so gorgeous it leaves me breathless. I hope you don't mind if I don't leave my name. Just wanted you to know that you're beautiful."

His eyes fill with tears that he blinks back, a goofy smile stretching his mouth wide.

"You good there, Munson?" Robin Buckley asks.

"Oh, yup, yeah, all good." He laughs. "Just got one of those 'you're my favorite teacher Mr. Munson!' notes."

He squeezes the letter to his chest before slipping it in his pocket.

---

The worst thing about Eddie's new job is that someway, somehow, Steve-fucking-Harrington works here too. PE teacher, JV basketball coach, of-fucking-course. Once a douchebag jock, always a douchebag jock. What makes it all worse is that he's still the prettiest guy Eddie's ever seen.

---

The first week of March, there's a commotion in the hallway that has him rushing out of his room, ready to breakup a fight. He finds Harrington already there, holding Dustin Henderson and Will Byers by their shoulders. Troy Walsh and James Dante stand across from them, wearing matching snarls.

Of course Harrington is picking on little nerd kids; he knew it. But before he steps forwards to break it up, Steve speaks, voice low and angry. "You want to tell me what happened here, Troy?"

"Byers tripped. He really should watch where he's going," Troy says. James laughs.

Steve's glare goes even more icy, more disdainful (it's so fucking hot, Eddie hates it). "You want to take that again? And try being honest this time, or you're suspend from the team."

Troy splutters for long enough that Eddie finally notices Will's stricken face, the sketchpad and snapped colored pencils littering the linoleum.

"I saw you take those things from Will, and unfortunately, I'll have to call your parents and you will be responsible for purchasing a new sketchbook and pencils. You're also benched for the next four games."

The boys shout, but when Steve raises a hand they quiet immediately. "You want to complain more, or do you want it to be five games?"

"No, sir," they answer before scampering off.

Harrington faces Dustin and Will. "You boys okay?" he asks them.

"We're good, Mr. H," Dustin answers.

"Glad to hear it." Steve begins collecting Will's ruined belongings, stops to study one of the drawings.

"This is really good, Will."

Will flushes. "Thanks. It's my character for dnd,"

"Dnd? That's that game that El and Max are always talking about? With the character sheets and the dice?"

"Yeah!" says Dustin. "You know it?"

Steve's smile is a little bashful, and it tugs at Eddie's heart in a way he has to ignore. "Not much. Just from what the girls have said. You want to tell me about it?"

"Really?" Their eyes light up.

"Really. You can stop by the gym during lunch. Only if you want to, though."

"Cool," says Dustin.

He pats them both on the shoulder, and they hurry away, leaving Steve and Eddie suddenly alone.

Eddie should head back to his class, hasn't been needed in this situation at all, really, but before he can disappear, Steve spots him and his eyes widen.

"You need something, Munson?" Steve's cheeks go a faint pink.

He shakes his head, feels wrong-footed. "Uh, that was really cool what you did just there."

"They're really good kids," Steve says. "I know them a little. Used to babysit El Hopper." He slides his hands into the pockets of his khakis and, seriously, fuck Harrington for looking like that in a pair of Dockers.

"Babysitter, Harrington? Never thought I'd see the day. Or that you'd be the one defending a bunch of nerds," Eddie says. He means it teasing, but Steve's face warps into a frown.

"Y--yeah, I guess. I mean. I'm trying not to be that guy anymore, and Robin's really helped--"

"Shit, man, I'm sorry. That's not what I meant, at all--"

"--I feel terrible about all that shit I pulled back in school. That King Steve stuff? I was awful and you didn't deserve--"

"Steve!" Eddie cuts him off. "I forgive you. For everything." He looks down at his shoes. "For all I didn't want to believe it, you really have changed."

They're both pink faced now, avoiding each other's eyes. "Thanks," Steve says. "I should get going, but--for the future-- I really wouldn't mind--um--trying to be friends."

The grin that passes across Eddie's face is huge. "Yeah, Harrington, I'd like that."

Eddie has to run to make it to his classroom on time. He passes Dustin and Will and the rest of their gaggle of friends, rushing them along, but forgets all about it as he steps in front of his third period juniors.

---

He and Steve are...friendly now. They chat, they joke, they share smiles that have Eddie's heart beating too fast even though it's not like that. Turns out Steve is kind and funny (a little bit of a bitch too, but in a way that ties Eddie's stomach in knots), and a hell of a teacher.

---

His freshman are in small groups, peer-reviewing an essays, when Max Mayfield catches his eye. She's one of his favorite students and absolute trouble.

"What's up, Mayfield." He asks.

"Are you friends with Mr. Harrington?" She asks.

He chuckles. "Sure, Max, we're friendly enough. Why?"

She narrows her eyes, like she knows he's not being totally honest. "Oh, nothing. He just talks about you all the time."

He's blushing horribly and Max, and all of her friends, smirk up at him. "He does?" He chokes out.

"Mmhmm," Lucas Sinclair says. "Says he thinks you're really cool."

"Definitely one of the best teachers here," Mike Wheeler adds.

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Okay, very funny, guys. How're your essays going?"

They answer, but before Eddie goes to help another group, Will says, "he really does like you, Mr. Munson. A lot."

El nods earnestly up at him. "It is true," she says. "I know him."

"Thanks, kids. I'll keep that in mind." He gives them a smile, tries not to let their words get to him. When he reaches the next group, though, he notices his hands are shaking.

---

Gifts start turning up in Eddie's cubby. It starts with a bag of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies from his favorite bakery. There's a small note that says "from your secret admirer," on the packaging. Every two weeks or so, something new shows up in his little mailbox; a woven friendship bracelet, a yellow rose, Hershey kisses, a delicately painted dnd figure that gives Eddie a small crisis because it's his own bard character, an Iron Maiden cassette, a bag of dice that almost brings him to genuine tears.

Eventually, he gets another note. This one is typed and reads: "I would love to have coffee with you 11am this Saturday at the Cafe on Main Street."

---

He walks into the cafe at 10:50am, wearing his favorite pair of ripped black jeans and a burgundy button-down, his hair pulled into a loose bun. He doesn't recognize anyone there.

Eddie gets in line, studies the menu, and the little bell above the door rings. He whips towards the sound to find none other than Steve Harrington in little wire rim glasses, a butter colored sweater, and jeans the man must have painted on, Jesus Christ. Honestly, the whole thing is enough to give Eddie a coronary (and to, embarrassingly, chub up in his own tight jeans).

"Steve?" He asks. He's overwhelmed with the (stupid, stupid) hope that it's been Harrington all along. "What are you doing here?"

"Henderson asked me to meet him. He around?"

"Uh, no?" Eddie feels heat creeping up his throat.

Steve shakes his head, as though he expected as much. "You alone? We could grab drink."

"I can't believe this." Eddie hides his face in his hands, knows it's gone horrifyingly crimson.

"What's wrong?"

"My secret admirer told me to be here now, so we could meet," Eddie's misery slices through his words. "I'm such an idiot."

"I--your--what?" Steve stammers.

He gathers himself enough to look Steve in his hazel eyes and ask, "I'm assuming it wasn't you leaving notes and gifts for me at work?"

And he expects Steve to say no. To laugh and ask why he'd ever do something like that, but instead, instead he flushes a deep red. "O-only one note."

"What?"

"I, uh," Steve clears his throat. "I left you a note. On Valentine's Day. I--we weren't friends yet, and I wanted you to know how much I liked you. It's --uh--it's pretty silly, huh? Robin's--"

"Steve," Eddie interrupts. He's going to tell Steve that he reads the note often enough that he has parts memorized; that it's the kindest thing anyone has done for him, but what he says instead is, "Dustin Henderson told you to meet him here at 11?"

"Yeah. Said he had something to show me."

Eddie remembers running into Will and Dustin and their friends that day in the hall, the weird conversation in class, the dice and the miniature. Something must click for Steve at the same time because his mouth drops, blush getting somehow deeper.

"Oh my god. Henderson! I'm gonna kill him. They figured out I had a crush on you."

"They WHAT?" Eddie says, loud enough that several looks are aimed their way.

"I'm so, so sorry, Eddie. Holy shit, this is so humiliating. You have to believe me, I had no idea they were doing this. God, I'm really starting to think it is possible to die from embarrassment."

"You have a crush on me," Eddie says instead of any of the dozens of helpful things he could say.

"Um. Yes?"

Eddie takes a deep breath, straightens his spine, and asks, "You wanna have coffee with me?"

"I'd really like that." Steve's return smile is so beautiful, it makes Eddie weak.

---

Eddie Munson is making out with Steve Harrington in the backseat of Steve's BMW. He and Steve spent the day together. They've kissed for so long that the sun has set, both of their lips are swollen, their skin red from stubble, and Eddie is nowhere near ready for the night to end.

Steve breaks away, gently pulling their mouths apart, but arms still tight around Eddie. "Hey, what kind of gifts were they giving you anyway? The kids?"

"Oh," Eddie blushes. "Uh, cookies, a dnd mini, lots of candy, a set of dice."

"Oh my god," Steve says, he pulls a little more away. "Oh my god, I'm going to kill her, Jesus Christ."

"Who are are you killing, sweetheart?"

Steve groans. "Robin. She was helping them. We found a set of dice at this little bookstore and she told me to get them for you, and--" he breaks off with a helpless, frustrated noise.

Eddie doesn't mean to, but he starts to giggle.

"It's not funny!" Steve says.

That only makes Eddie laugh harder. "Your best friend," he squeaks. "And a group of literal children set us up. That's hilarious, Harrington."

Steve's mouth drops and for a second Eddie thinks he'll be upset, but then he's giggling too, his whole face crumpling into it.

Steve pulls Eddie close once the laughter subsides, his eyes trained on Eddie's lips.

"We could pretend we didn't get together," Eddie manages to say.

"What, like, make them think they failed?"

"Yeah. We could tell them I got stood up, but you and I hung out. Had a bro day."

Steve giggles again, and it's the best sound Eddie's ever heard. "I'm absolutely on board with this plan, but you should definitely kiss me some more."

"Oh, yeah?" Eddie asks, his voice low. "And what'll I get out of it?"

"Why don't you get over here and see."

As if Eddie could turn down an invite that enticing. He slides a hand behind Steve's head, drawing him in, and they're kissing like they never stopped. It only been a few hours, but Eddie knows--without a doubt--he's already head over heels.

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exhaslo · 26 days

Text

Over-Time Ch3

(CEO!Miguel x Shy/Clumsy!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2

Warning: MINORS DNI, eventual smut, slow-burn, mentions of sex, bullying, cussing, fluff

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"On behalf of those of us at Alchemax, we would like to welcome you to our company. Please arrive at the Human Resources floor tomorrow with the information sent via email. We are happy to have you join us."

The shudder in your voice as you resisted the urge to squeal was sharp. You were at your current job, trying to hide from the crowd outside. This phone call was important, you told everyone that, and you were glad you took it.

"(Y/N)! GET OUT HERE WE NEED YOUR CLUMSY ASS!"

You yelped towards your coworker. Tears threatening to spill towards their harsh tone. Luckily you had just finished the phone call. How cruel could they be?

Hurrying back onto the floor, you yelped as another coworker tossed you a bunch of orders. Hurrying towards you station, you tried your best to make the orders but the pressure was getting to you. Everyone's yelling and the pace was too much.

"Strawberries, (Y/N)! Not Blackberries! Damn!"

"S-Sorry," You whimpered.

You hated working here. You hated this job, but this was the only place that could hire you fresh out of college. Everywhere you really wanted to work claimed that you didn't have enough work experience. Well how the hell were you supposed to get that if they didn't give you a shot?

"Hey, goofball, you're taking my shift tomorrow."

"H-Huh?!" You questioned, spilling the drink you were making, "Ah! No, no-"

"It's from 7am to 2pm."

"I-I can't!" You stuttered, trying to clean the mess you made, "I-I have s-something....something important to do!"

"Well change your plans, I already told the manager that you're taking my shift, goofball." Your coworker snapped before bumping into you, "Stop fucking up the drinks!"

You were biting the inside of your cheek as you tried your best to hold back your tears. You weren't going to let your cruel coworkers ruin your chance at a better life. You weren't going to deal with them anymore after today.

You just had to finish your shift.

And never look back.

----------

You woke up early for Alchemax. Triple checked all of your paperwork and identification. This was the most prepared you were ever going to be. You had blocked your current job from calling you so they wouldn't stress you out.

You even had some time to bake a small 'thank you' cake for Miguel, if you got the chance to see him. You were truly grateful for his help in getting you here. Hopefully it won't look weird on your end. This was just your way of thanking someone.

Once you arrived, you went up to the Human Resources floor to submit your information. As you waited, you focused on the elevator and saw Lyla step out.

"Ah, there you are." Lyla chirped, approaching you.

It was night and day from when you saw her during the interview. She was much more peppy than before.

"G-Good...morning," You whispered, feeling slightly nervous as to why she was looking for you.

"Is all her paperwork done?" Lyla asked the front desk lady, "Perfect, (Y/N), grab your stuff and follow me. I'm going to show you around~"

"Oh....Thank you,"

This felt strange. As you collected all of your things, you hurried behind Lyla. She was so nice and friendly. You weren't used to this, so it was a nice change of pace.

"Now that you're officially hired with us, you'll be getting paid for your time here today. I'm going to show you around the building first, then your station. I'm sure you'll love working here~!"

----------

Miguel grunted lowly as Lyla abandoned him during an important meeting. She wanted to meet you personally, leaving Miguel to suffer with the wolves. Miguel had very little patience with these men and now it was going to get worse.

Once the meeting was over, Miguel hurried back to his office. He needed a drink. There was only so much stupid and ignorance that he could deal with. Being a CEO was difficult. The patience that Miguel had to show was honestly a talent.

"This is the cafeteria! We have a large selection of goods here,"

Miguel could hear Lyla's voice from one of this monitors. Honestly, that woman was good at testing Miguel.

"Whoa, h-how much do we have....to pay for this?"

Groaning softly as Miguel sat at his desk, he took a sip of his vodka. Your soft voice now echoed from the monitor. Miguel resisted a chuckle as he watched the two of you walk around. Lyla must have set this up, normally Miguel only watched certain interviews.

"I've been meaning to ask, what's in the little box you've been carrying?" Lyla asked you.

"A-Ah....Um...I-I wanted to say thank you to...Miguel for helping me out. Is...Is it too much? I thought....I usually bake as a thank you," Your voice was getting lower as you started to cover your face.

"Hehe," Lyla looked directly at the camera, "I'm sure he will love it."

Miguel grunted in response as he drank the rest of his liquor. Lyla was abusing the fact that you didn't know that he was the CEO. Miguel couldn't wait until you did find out. How shocked would you get? How red would those cheeks turn?

Clicking his tongue at his thoughts, Miguel decided to meet with you. After all, it would be rude for you to be waiting much longer. You had a cake to give him.

How cute.

--------

Lyla was currently showing you some of the labs. There were a lot of floors that you weren't going to be anywhere near, but Lyla said it was good to know where everything was. Honestly, Alchemax was even more impressive than you thought.

Arriving at the next floor, you gasped softly as you made eye contact with Miguel once the doors open.

"Oh, Miguel, funny to find you on the relaxing floor," Lyla said with a grin.

"I don't find it strange at all," Miguel huffed and smiled towards you, "Ah, (Y/n), right?"

"Y-Yes!" You squeaked and lowered your head, "Um...I..."

Your heart was racing. This was weird. So very, very weird. Maybe you shouldn't have baked him a cake. Maybe just a thank you card was enough? You couldn't find the courage to give him the baked good. It was too embarrassing.

"Awe!" Lyla cooed and pulled Miguel inside the elevator, "Why don't I show (Y/n) where she will be working! Miguel, come with us."

"Sure," Miguel grunted lowly.

"Ah, here!" You nervously handed Miguel the cake, avoiding his gaze, "I....I wanted to say...thank you for...for helping me with the interview! S-So, thank you!"

"You didn't have too," Miguel smiled as he took the small box, "But thank you."

Finally raising your head, you felt your cheeks burn as Miguel smiled towards you. There were butterflies in your stomach as you watched him. Miguel was so kind and handsome. You hoped that you could see him often here.

"Huh? You can smile?" Lyla mocked Miguel, causing him to grunt.

"When is your vacation again?"

It was fascinating watching the two bicker. That sweet and kind Miguel was grumbling towards Lyla. As if they had been friends for quite some time. It made you feel even better about working here.

"Here is our floor! C'mon (Y/n), let's leave the brute to himself," Lyla chuckled, grabbing your hand.

"W-Wait...Isn't this the top floor-"

"Hm? Oh, yes, you were hired to be my replacement while I'm away on vacation. You're going to be the CEO's secretary." Lyla said casually.

Your eyes widen in shock. You wanted to question Lyla, but honestly, thinking about your interview, it made sense. Lyla just smiled as she showed you her office, wanting to get you comfortable.

"S-So...I'll be working...with the CEO?" You asked softly, taking a seat on her couch, "Um...How are they?"

"Ugh, so annoying. Always uptight, always cranky, never laughs or smiles. Honestly, this change will be good for all of us. I'm sure you can get that grunting brute to loosen up. The job is pretty easy itself as you've seen during your interview."

"Mhm, will there be...anything else I have to do?"

"Not much, but I'll go over all that with more details tomorrow. Why don't we work on your schedule as of right now?"

"Okay,"

--------

Miguel waited for you to enter Lyla's office before he could enter his. He took a seat at his desk and pulled out a fork as he undid the box you gave him. Miguel raised a brow at the cake before him, it was small and a little sloppy, but the effort was there.

Taking a bite of the cake, Miguel winced at the salty taste. You did admit that you were clumsy. Swallowing, Miguel went to grab a water before seeing a small note in the box.

"If it is too salty, I'm so sorry. There is a small packet of tea that goes well with salty items...just in case." Miguel read aloud.

Finding the tea packet, Miguel scoffed softly as he got himself a glass of hot water. You were well prepared. Miguel seemed to recall you saying that you only got clumsy when nervous. Were your nerves getting to you about the job?

"Well, can't have that now," Miguel hummed, drinking the tea, "I quite like (Y/n). She'd make a fine edition to the team."

"This is the big bad CEO's office," Lyla said from outside Miguel's doors.

Miguel just smiled as he imagined you on the other side. Lyla was making him to be oh so scary. Appraoching the door, Miguel kept a calm composure as he decided to open the doors.

"Stop scaring the new girl," Miguel hummed. He watched as your eyes widen,

"Huh? Miguel? Y-You're...You're the C-CEO?"

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Next Chapter

@timidquindim @decentsoupperson @ivkygirly @reader-1290 @daddyfroglegs @eepybunny0805 @ddreabea @iamperson12280 @migueloharasoulmate @tojishugetiddies @koko-1025 @hyeinwluv85s @daisy-artfield @migueloharastruelove @a-lil-whore @hcqwxrtss123 @the-pan-liquid @tojisfav @pochapo @bubblegumfanfictions @brighterthanlonelythoughts @ghstypaint @mangoslushcrush @synamonthy @scaleniusrm @moonspectorx @dorck26 @a060403 @lunablackcosplay @soraya-daydreams @lovefanfic1 @mymrsweirdnessshipperstuff-blog @pretty-pink-princesss @corpsebridenightamare @razertail18 @gachagator @droolingmuttt @miguelsfavwife @ryzguy06 @raideaters-blog @manishkaworld @keidilla @byjessicalotufo @pigeonmama @k3ythesapphic @acesangels @stealingyourturts @angel-xx-1 @amberbalcom14 @flaps200 @ofmenanduhhhwellmen

#miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel x you #miguel x reader #miguel x y/n

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999h34rt · 24 days

Text

FLATLINE | PAIGE BUECKERS

➣ paige x fem!gf!reader

➣ summary: y/n and paige experience what it means to be in a long distance relationship, but with the distance between them, can they overcome it?

➣ warning : secret relationship, angst (kinda) ,long distance.

➣ duayaps: first post🥳🥳🥳, thoughts?

➣ inspired by flatline by justin bieber.

"I'LL MISS YOU" paige muttered against her neck.

"it'll go by before you know it" y/n said pulling away from the hug. When college applications started being filled, she took a big risk and applied for Politecnico di Milano, a fashion uni in Milan, Italy. She had already said goodbye to her parents, thinking that was the hardest goodbye she could imagine, but the tears in her eyes from saying goodbye to her girlfriend right now, told her she lied to herself a while ago.

Paige and y/n had always had a rocky side of their relationship, for one, it was a secret waiting to bomb the world, two, they always knew that long distance was going to be a thing for them. With Paige going to Uconn and Yn going to PDM, 'it was already doomed' said by most people. But overcoming the rocky side of their relationship, there was the fairytale side. The one where they in love, where they supported each other in everything, where they took each others first kisses, first everything. They were each other's lifelines in a way, they didn't go a day without speaking to each other.

They both hoped that these future 4 years, weren’t going to change their feelings of each other.

✩

Lately you've been busy, wondering if you miss me

Why did you go against me? I just wanna know

How come you act so different? Talk to me, I'll listen

All the love I'm giving, don't act like you don't know

“…leave a message after the tone” y/n sighed as she hung up the phone. It was 7am and her alarm had just gone off, Paige was most likely asleep. It’s 1am at Storrs.

If you put the time difference aside, they were doing well. Both of them spent at least 2 hours everyday on the phone and haven’t had an any problems yet.

But it’s only been 5 months. 7 months and 3 years to go.

Y/n was glad Paige settled in great, she got along with her teammates and had a great support system there. Paige became a media star, with that came many fans. While y/n wasn’t the jealous type, these fans were wild.

She opened her instagram app, and slowly started to scroll through stories. When she stopped, went stiff. “Oh” she muttered, her girlfriend’s teammate, Aaliyah, had posted a story with the Uconn women’s basketball team having fun ,at what she would guess, a bar. Paige is in the background , a girl sitting next to her, whiles shes on the phone. Y/n quickly checked when the story was posted,10minutes ago.

‘Okay so she could’ve just posted this when she came home’ y/n quickly assured herself. Paige wouldn’t just ignore her calls, especially on a night out, right?

As those thoughts filled her head, a notification sound came from her phone.

pb 👩🏼‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏽

gm baby. can’t talk, tired, going to bed.

y/n didn’t think anything, she couldn’t. She just typed ‘sweet dreams💗’ and hit send.

no i love you, no ily, not even an emoji.

‘Stop, don’t overthink this ,shes just tired’ she told herself. She shut her phone off and got out of bed, leaving her thoughts about P in her comfy bed.

It had been a month since the bar incident, and everything seemed normal, until a week ago.

Y/n just got out of work, a small intern job to help her graduate early. It was 6pm in Milan, and 12 in Storrs.On her way home, y/n called P.

The phone rang, 1,2,3 times before she hung up. Tried a gain, 1,2,3. User is busy.Paige had hung up on her, she didn’t think much of it. ‘She’s probs busy’.

That was 6 days ago.

While they exchange texts, no calls were made this week. Paige was busy, like really busy, But not busy ‘not go out with her friends for the 3rd time this week’ busy. Y/n got it, freshman year, new teammates, she had to have fun. She also knew that their relationship was on the down low. Even though she assured Paige that it was okay to tell her teammates, P reluctantly agreed. ‘I don’t know, i’ll see’ She muttered to y/n, 2 weeks ago on their normal facetime call.

Y/n didn’t want to think much of it, she didn’t want her overthinking to brew a fight. The last 2 years she was back home, her and paige had never gone a day without speaking to each other, but so what it stopped now?, it was common sometimes to not call. So she let it be, but Paiges text became more and more rare,more dry and definitely more weird.

But y/n knew, paige was just busy.

✩

Girl you always catch me at the bad time (Bad time) When I know you probably think it's a lie (A lie) I know I told you last time was the last time (Last time) How could you pull the plug and leave me flatline?

On the other end of the phone. Y/n hit the red button, and ended the call. She hit her head on the wall behind her in frustration, thankful that the call wasn’t on facetime and Paige could see her sad face.

Y/n had called in sick at work so she could watch Paiges game in peace, her boss gave her an earful, because it was one of the more busier seasons in the fashion world, but she let her be ‘sick in bed’. She was proud of Paige, and was the happiest for her.

But the mood drifted when she heard the voice tell her they need her. ‘I need her too’ Y/n thought. This was the first time in a month that Y/n heard Paiges voice. Her heart clenched when she heard her sound weird, it sounded like she was frustrated. Frustrated with who though, with y/n?.

As time went quick, it felt like Paiges texts were more rare, and even more dry. And Y/n didn’t know if Paige was aware of the way she was acting, she also didn’t know if she should say anything, Paige was a freshman in college having fun, alone,without Y/n next to her.

If Y/n were to say anything, she didn’t want to seem like the bitchy jealous girlfriend that only wanted Paige to spend time with her, she just wanted Paige to spend some time with her.

It felt like their relationship was a bomb, and their time was running out quickly.

How could you pull the plug and leave me flatline? (Flatline) Cause when I hit you, you don't even reply (Reply) How could you pull the plug and leave me flatline?

✩

Not breathing, what is it I'm not seeing Said she's leaving, damn I can't believe it It's like my heart's bleeding knowing that you don't need me Shut my heart down, now I don't know what Imma do now

“… i just need some space y/n” Paige said with frustration, a sigh coming after. Y/n’s heart dropped.

It all started an hour and a half ago.

Paige went out with her teammates after a late night practice, forgetting that y/n was waiting on her phone call that she promised she would do after practice.

After she came home, she was bombarded with messages from Y/n. 8 to be exact.

y/n💍

hey did you finish practice?

- 8:15PM

you ready?

- 8:18PM

paige?

- 8:20PM

paigeeeeeeee???

- 8:30PM

pbabyyyy

- 8:35PM

pls tell me u didn’t forget

- 8:45PM

paige are you fucking kidding me

- 9:45PM

it’s our anniversary

- 9:45PM

call me when you get home and make sure you’re not busy

- 9:50PM

And when she called, the yelling happened. It was the first fight they’ve had in a while. While Y/n finally exploded demanding to know what’s happening with her, Paige only had one thing to say.

“I think we should take a break”

“What?” Y/n whispered after a long pause.

“i’m not ready to be in a relationship Y/n/n, i’m still questioning what i want, and i don’t know if its you yet.” Paige said. “I’m sorry, i just need some space Y/n”

Y/n heart dropped, she didn’t know what to say or think. While Y/n knew that not everything lasted, Paige was a sure thing. Paige was her lifeline. What was she going to do?.

Y/n gulped and said the only thing she knew she could say “It’s okay”.

‘It’s okay?’ Paige was taken back. Had Y/n want to breakup before?, and then Paige shockingly felt hurt in her chest, her stomach slightly dropped. Why was she feeling like this? why isn’t she feeling relief?. This has been on Paiges mind for the past 3 months, wasn’t this the solution?

“Go be a superstar but don’t expect me to wait for you while you figure out what you want to do” Y/n said, her voice sweet. Not even a slight tone of bitterness.

Y/n still wasn’t able to move from her spot on the kitchen counter. Tears were streaming down her face, and before a sob sound could come, she hung up the phone. All Y/n knew was Paige, but know she didn’t even know that.

She had literally left her clueless, without her lifeline. now flatline.

✩

- 5 MONTHS LATER -

Paige stood there, watching from her afar.

“That’s her?” a croatian accent asked. She felt Nika sit beside her. “Yeah” Paige answered still in awe of her.

“She’s really pretty” Nika said. Paige nodded agreeing with her. She was wearing a flowy white short summer dress with cowboy boots.

It was Drews birthday today, and as the team had some off time, Drew invited them to his barbecue party. And the weekend before his birthday, he ran into Y/n. Of course the boy was oblivious to the breakup and while he asked still asked Paige for Y/n, she didn’t have the heart to tell him that they broke up.

So when Drew begged Y/n to come to his birthday party, Y/n didn’t know what else to say but yes. He could literally get whatever he wanted out of everyone.

At first, Y/n debated if she should just call Paiges stepmom and cancel, or she should just go and pray that Paige couldn’t make it.

Well, Paige had come. And so did the rest of the huskies. When Y/n saw them, she sighed. Although she was friends with Azzi, she didn’t know the rest of them, but by the look on their faces when she came in, she knew that Paige had told them her history.

Azzi, being the sweetheart she is, excitedly came running to Y/n and hugging her tight. The whole party they caught up with each other, with Azzi telling her about Uconn and Y/n telling her about studying abroad. For the past 30 minutes they’ve been talking, not once have either of them mentioned Paige.

Y/n turned, meeting Paiges eyes. The two of them made eye contact with each other again. Y/n then heard Azzi laughed, when she snapped her head to look at her friend. She saw a small teasing smile on her face. “Don’t even start” Y/n said, glaring at her. She got up and made her way to the other side of the backyard, where there was no Paige in sight.

“Y/n/n” she heard a child scream. Drew was suddenly hugging her legs. “Hi Drewsky” she laughed, beginning to tickle him. She felt the boy starting to laugh, and start to kick her hands away, while Paige and her were together, Drew became a big part in their relationship. Paiges parents often made Paige babysit Drew, and Y/n just tagged along. Through that time, Drew and Y/n became close, Y/n considered him as a baby brother. She would miss him.

“Paigeyy help me” Drew screamed laughing. Y/n became stiff, the hair behind her neck stood. She could feel her ex behind her as she let the little boy go and stand up.

Paige and Y/n stared at one another. Paige was thankful her teammates weren’t around right now, they would be on her ass all day after this.

“Hi” Y/n whispered, looking away from her and to the ground.

“Hey” Paige said back. “How’ve you been-“

“Paige please no small talk, what do you want?” Y/n cut her off. This was already awkward enough, no need to make it even more.

“Uh” Paige stuttered, a sigh coming after. “I missed you” Paige admitted. Y/n’s blood boiled, now she missed me?

Paige could sense Y/n anger, she placed a hand on Y/n elbow, tugging her from leaving. “Please just wait” Paige pleaded “I’m sorry, i just didn’t know what to do i kept having all of this kind of feelings and i know i was busy but i swear just one more chance-“

“Paige” y/n cut her off

“- and i’ll promise i’ll try harder-“ paige continued

“-stop-“ she tried to stop her

“please just give me one more chance”

“-okay” she agreed. Paiges eyes went wide, she didn’t think she would get her to agree that easy.

“I only needed you to apologize P, i only want you to make some time for me thats all. And if were really trying this again you have to be sure you want this because i don’t know if i can handle loosing you again” She said still looking at the ground.

Paiges heart dropped hearing her voice break. Although she knew how Y/n felt, Paige had been nothing but moody,grumpy and miserable these past few months. Seeing Y/n today, brought her hope that she had a second shot with her.

Y/n slowly picked up her head, and looked up at Paige. Paige was jaw dropping hot, and she knew that, her head couldn’t get any bigger by her ego.

Paige reached a hand towards her waist, pulling Y/n towards her. When she did, she slowly dropped a sweet kiss on her girlfriends lips, when she pulled away, her forehead dropped to Y/n’s.

She felt like she could finally breathe, her chest no longer hurt. She had her lifeline back.

✩

#Spotify #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers imagine #huskies #uconn #nika muhl #azzi fudd #aaliyah edwards #paige bueckers headcannons #wnba #lesbian

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lilasamaaa · 19 days

Text

Who says "I love you" first? Part One | F1 grid x Reader

Genre | Angst, Fluff.

Featuring | Alex Albon, Pierre Gasly, Lewis Hamilton, Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris, Esteban Ocon.

Word count | 1.9K

Warnings | Alcohol consumption, mentions of jealousy, car crash, "cheating" (if you squint).

Author's note | Part two will be coming soon and will feature Oscar Piastri, Daniel Ricciardo, George Russell, Carlos Sainz, Yuki Tsunoda and Max Verstappen :)

Alex Albon

He says it first.

For months, you had been preparing a huge project with your team at work. Months of hard work, sleepless nights, doubts, and anxieties. Even though you and Alex didn't live together and your job, along with his repeated travels had put your relationship to the test, he had been nothing but the perfect boyfriend during this time.

You were particularly moved one evening when, leaving your office past midnight, you'd stumbled upon a taxi patiently waiting outside the building, ready to take you home safely. And when you finally got back home, only to find a box from your favorite pizza place in front of your door. Alex was like that : deeply attentive. Caring. Devoted.

You had called your boyfriend on FaceTime, praying that he would already be awake on the other side of the world.

"Hey," had come his voice, still laced with sleep.

"Thank you so much for everything," you'd said, feeling tears welling up in your eyes from fatigue and emotion. "I had the worst day and this... this is so thoughtful. It makes everything better."

"Anything for you," Alex had replied. "I love you."

The words had come out so naturally that you'd almost dropped your phone as Alex yawned, still half asleep, not fully realizing what he'd said until your sudden silence alerted him.

"Oh, my god," he'd said, now fully awake. "That's not how I wanted to tell you."

"Well, I'm glad you did," you'd replied, tearing up again. "I love you too, you know."

Pierre Gasly

You say it first.

You'd joined Pierre in Milan for the weekend after several weeks without seeing each other. After spending nearly twenty-four hours holed up at his place under the covers, showing each other just how much you'd missed one another, the second day had been an opportunity to enjoy the Italian sun.

You had started the day with a fresh orange juice on a terrace facing the Duomo, before exploring the city, its museums, and its shops from top to bottom. The repeated absences of the driver were becoming harder to handle, and you had come to the conclusion, a few days before your departure to Milan, that you had fallen hopelessly in love with the Frenchman. At the end of your day as tourists, Pierre had invited you to dinner in a candlelit restaurant, and you'd almost blurted it all out between the main course and dessert.

Those little words that had been swirling in your head for a week.

In your previous relationships, you had never been the one to take that first step. You'd been too afraid of scaring away your partners. Of being laughed at. But you loved Pierre, you were so sure of it. And you were almost sure that he did, too. So, you had decided that for once, you'd take the lead. Just once.

After your romantic dinner, you were strolling through the city, slowly making your way back to his apartment, when you'd spotted a photo booth by the roadside. Pulling Pierre by the sleeve, you'd both settled inside, laughing, him sitting on the small worn-out stool, you on his lap. The first photo had caught both of you by surprise. But for the second one, you were ready. Just milliseconds before the flash illuminated your faces, you had said it.

"I love you."

Years later, the series of four photos was still on your fridge, and you loved looking at the last one. The one where he'd grabbed your face, pressing a kiss against your lips, whispering, "I love you, too."

Lewis Hamilton

You say it first.

Lewis had invited you to a photoshoot for the first time. What he hadn't specified, though (he would later swear he didn't know) was that the shoot was with his ex. And not just any ex, but the one he had been with just before you, that he hadn't seen since their breakup. The model with endless legs and hair like silk. The same girl you sometimes saw in the streets, printed on five-meter-high billboards, hanging from skyscrapers as if to taunt you.

Sitting on a chair, a coffee kindly offered by the photographer's assistant in hand, you were watching as the girl positioned her legs between your boyfriend's, tilting her head back, placing her hands on his chest. You'd never considered yourself a jealous girl. But there, you were absolutely boiling.

Each pose was worse than the last.

And each direction from the photographer was worse than the last. You weren't sure how many more "Closer, Lewis," or "Look more in love, Gigi" you could endure before you snapped and someone got hurt. Preferably her.

After a particularly close shot, their lips almost touching, you had suddenly risen, returning to the dressing rooms, mouth clenched and eyes shining. Lewis had followed you immediately, closing the dressing room door behind you, holding you close against his chest.

"That was too soon, I'm sorry," he had said, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"It'll always be too soon," you had replied, eyes glistening. "No one's strong enough to watch the person they love play happy couple with their ex". You hadn't realized your words then, but he had. Stroking your hair, he'd said "Good thing I'm in love with you and not her, then," making you fall even harder for him.

Charles Leclerc

He says it first.

If Charles had listened to himself, he would have told you he loved you within a week. He was that sure. Nothing he experienced with you felt familiar : not the way his heart raced when you looked at him through your lashes, nor the way you made him feel hot just by taking off your coat. His previous relationships had made him cautious, so the words slept quietly in his mind and on his tongue.

Even though he still blamed himself for making you worry so much, fate had it that the very first Grand Prix you attended was Monza, in 2020. The crash had been particularly violent, unexpected. The cameras hadn't missed a second of the spectacle unfolding in the paddock, zooming in on your horrified face, so scared of losing the one who had stolen your heart in just a few months. Years later, Charles still couldn't bear to see those images.

The following days had been quiet, Charles being ordered to rest and stay lying down as much as possible. One night, when you'd woken up alone in bed, you'd panicked before finding him in the living room, staring at his phone.

"What are you looking at?" you'd asked, sitting down next to him.

He had turned his phone towards you, showing a series of tweets featuring the sequence of you terrified after the accident.

"I hate knowing that I did that to you," he'd confessed, head low.

"Charles," you'd started, not sure how to put it. "As much as I hated witnessing this, you drive for a living. This probably won't be the only time I'm scared for you. I'm not planning on going anywhere, so... I'll have to get used to it."

The driver had looked at you, eyes filled with love, and the words had come naturally.

"I love you so much."

Lando Norris

He says it first.

Lando and you had... history.

You two had been friends since high school. He was the first boy you ever had a crush on. Not the little crush that makes you blush and stutter, no, the real deal. The kind that makes you fall asleep crying, wondering if that boy will ever look at you as anything other than a good friend. High school had ended without any progression in your relationship, and your paths had diverged. You'd gone to college on the other side of the country, seeing him only occasionally, as he was heavily involved in racing and you almost never went home. Your paths had crossed again at a New Year's Eve party hosted in your hometown by one of your mutual friends.

You were so happy to see him again after more than six months apart that you wouldn't let go of him, following him everywhere, mimicking his every move. You knew you shouldn't have followed Lando into that territory. That you shouldn't have drunk so much. But you had done it. And soon enough, you'd been pressed against a wall, the driver kissing you as if his life depended on it.

You were on cloud nine. Convinced that after years of hiding your feelings for him, Lando had understood, Lando felt the same way, Lando, Lando... But Lando had kissed another girl. Then another. You'd left the house in a hurry as everyone counted down to midnight, trying to put together the pieces of your broken heart on the way home.

You hadn't expected someone to knock on your parents' door at 6 a.m. the next day. Even less to find Lando behind it, hair tousled, dressed like the night before, with dark circles under his eyes. He'd been holding a sorry excuse of a bouquet in his hand. Flowers... From your own garden, you'd noticed, raising an eyebrow. Your mother would be so mad at him. You'd opened your mouth, ready to send him back home, but he'd been faster than you.

"I know you hate me, believe me, I hate myself too. But I have to say it or I'll regret it forever. I love you. And I'm so sorry that it took me kissing other girls to finally notice it. I don't want no one else... I only want you, if you'll have me."

Your friends had told you that you were stupid for forgiving him so easily, but you'd kissed him again. Six years later, lying against him on a tropical beach on your honeymoon, you knew you'd made the right choice that day.

Esteban Ocon

He says it first.

You hadn't been dating for long, a few months at best. One evening, though, he'd surprised you by pulling out the invitation to his cousin's wedding, asking if you'd like to accompany him.

Weddings are kind of sacred in your family. You don't just invite anyone, and you don't introduce just anyone to your entire family unless you're really serious about that person. Deep down, you were thrilled, trying not to freak out, reminding yourself that not everyone sees things the same way, and that for Esteban, this wedding might be an outing just like any other.

He'd come with you to choose a dress, finding the first one "so beautiful on you," the second one "absolutely stunning," the third one "breath-taking." You'd eventually realized that the driver wouldn't be of much help to you, fascinated by everything you'd worn. This alone should have told you everything you needed to know about the man's feelings, but you'd continued to doubt. Was this wedding as important to him as it was to you? Were you ready to meet his family?

The big day had finally come, and you were sure you'd have died of stress if Esteban hadn't held you by the waist the whole time, introducing you to everyone who'd passed by you two. His parents had seemed thrilled by your presence, showering you with compliments, emphasizing that it was the first time Esteban had invited a girl to a family event. It's important for him too, then, you'd thought.

The ceremony had passed, beautiful, and you'd found yourselves on the dance floor, swaying under blue and golden lights, lost in each other's eyes.

"I'm so glad everyone got to see how wonderful you are," he'd said, making your heart race. You thought he was done until he'd added, softly,

"I'm so glad I got to show everyone the woman I love."

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meownotgood · 8 months

Text

inevitable. / gojo satoru x gn!reader, angst & fluff, love confessions; satoru writing practice.

When Satoru comes home, it's another broken promise.

He shows up well past midnight, with his knuckles bruised purple and his palms rubbed raw. His uniform is a filthy tattered mess. His blindfold hangs loosely around his neck. His head hurts more than usual, his jaw aches from the way he's been clenching it.

Every window is dark, all the lights are off. The key to your apartment is under the mat, same as always. He steps in and closes the door behind him as silently as possible, he half-hopes you aren't awake even though that'd ruin the entire purpose to him coming. Sighing, he tries to will himself to relax, but his hands remain shaky as he clicks the lock shut.

"You're home."

The familiar sound of your voice doesn't surprise him — Instead, like an instinct, it makes his shoulders slump, his muscles loosen. A tingle runs across his spine and his heart sparks alight, he's home. He's missed this. Problem is, he doesn't deserve to miss this.

"I'm home." Satoru parrots; hand frozen on the doorknob, he doesn't turn around to look at you because he isn't sure if he should.

"I missed you." You say, ever-so softly. It finds a way to be both the worst and the best thing he's ever heard. Don't say that.

Satoru swallows. "I missed you too."

A few seconds of silence. Your tone's gone level. "Thought you said you weren't coming back."

His hands sting when he closes and opens them. Close, open, they're getting sweaty. He can feel his heart thudding and his breath quickening, his blood boiling. His pulse thrums in his own neck, his throat closes up and he can't even speak. He assumed he wouldn't be coming back too. Yet here he is.

Turning to face you, Satoru balls those same hands up into fists. This is his fault, and he doesn't think he can fix it, there's just no way. But he can't just leave things as they are, what is he supposed to do? For the first time in a long time, he's utterly lost.

"I-"

You interrupt him before he can get a word in.

"I'm glad you're here, Satoru."

He blinks. He's got no idea what to say to that. Not a damn clue.

"You've been crying." You're continuing, your arms fall limp from where they were crossed, "Are you alright? What's going on?"

Yeah, he's sure he looks the part, he was just hoping you wouldn't notice. He bets his eyes are as swollen and red as they feel, with deep dark bags set in underneath.

It's foreign. He's never cried like this. He never cried when he was a kid, he hasn't cried even when he felt at his lowest — but there's something about you that's always brought out the weakness in him. Something about you he couldn't explain, something that has him breaking down the whole way here because the thought of losing you tears his ignorant heart right out of his chest.

Satoru sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth. His bottom lip is quivering. Your quiet apartment is getting smaller and smaller around him.

"I'm fine," He hears his own voice and it doesn't sound like himself, "I'm good."

"Stop it. Tell me the truth, Satoru."

Satoru. The way you utter his name hurts him more than anything.

His eyes narrow, he stares at his feet, "Don't worry about me. Please."

"I can't, I can't when you clearly aren't okay."

"Come on," He grumbles at that, the bridge of his nose crinkles, a defeated expression takes over his features, "I'm fine, I already told you."

"Tsk," You take a step forward, "You're such an idiot sometimes, I think you're just-"

"Why aren't you mad? Tell me."

You stop, falling silent. Satoru realizes he'd spoken a little louder than he wanted to. His head dips down. His brows furrow like he's the angry one, "You tell me, because I don't get it. I don't understand what the hell you're thinking, I never have. God, you- you should be pissed!"

"Satoru-"

He presses his fingers to his temple, he's gritting his teeth, "But you aren't, not even close, you don't even care. I don't- you're so kind and I- Why? Why won't you tell me to leave?"

He's being childish, immature. He knows, but he can't help it. He can't wrap his head around why you're still here. Why you've stayed, why you've greeted him at the door like everything is normal after he told you he was never coming back — This'll be the last time I see you. It's for your own good. — He's tried everything to push you away, and yet none of it has worked. Nothing.

Satoru could never be close to you. He wants to be, God does he want to be. But he can't, you can't. You'll be targeted. You'll wind up assassinated. The strongest sorcerer has always been the strongest when he's all alone. Satoru fears the day will come where he won't be strong enough to protect you. You make him far too soft, and this world is too cruel and too dark to allow any glimmers of light.

And you understand that, don't you?

His eyes flicker up, he scans your face, your expression unreadable. You offer him the faintest smile, and you answer.

"For the same reason you haven't left yet."

You've always understood. From the moment you met him, you've known.

You're aware of the consequences. You know what could happen to you. And you know damn well Satoru could disappear at any time; it's part of who he is, what he has to become. You've stuck by his side at every opportunity regardless. He's important to you. He's good at his core. To you, Gojo Satoru is the most pleasant dream you've ever had, an unreachable star — The universe he lives in is so far from your own and yet no-one has ever understood you more than him.

You're the one who knows all of his secrets, and him with yours. Sometimes he thinks you know him better than he knows himself. Even when he leaves, even when he's gone off on another mission all alone with no sign of when he'll return, you'll be here, waiting for him. You'll hug him close and tell him you missed him, every single time.

This is his doing. All of this is. He's an idiot.

Satoru keeps his gaze focused on you: wavering skies of blue, cloudy with hesitance. You step in closer, your voice is much quieter.

"I'm not mad at you." You reach forward, taking his hands, squeezing them. His breath can't help but hitch. He's been waiting for your touch for a long time now. You don't comment on the bruises, you're used to them. "I care about you too much for that, you know?"

"I know," Satoru rubs your knuckles with his thumbs, he lets go of a long, trembling breath, "I know."

"Stay for the night." You ask, and between his gnawing ache to have you close and the way you lace your fingers with his own, grasping tenderly — his battered hands in your delicate hold — he doesn't think there's ever a world where he could say no. "Just for tonight, okay? We can figure things out."

"I'll stay. I'm sorry," He blinks away the water welling up beneath his lashes, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you, I- I'm just so sorry."

"It's okay. I've already forgiven you."

"I won't leave like that again. I promise. I promise you."

Your palm finds his cheek. He leans into your touch, he wants to collapse.

You were the one who showed him peace could be more than only fleeting, but he's the one who was foolish enough to get so attached to you. And right now, he's the one who just can't manage to let you go.

This same vicious cycle is what he's fallen into, he comes back to your arms only to leave again and again. It'll keep going like this until you get sick of it all, or until something takes you away from him. He hates it. He's always hated it more than anything, hasn't he? He wants to savor your presence for as long as it'll last, he doesn't want to keep leaving like this, he doesn't want to lose you.

The reason why you're still here is the same as his own. It's why he can't leave you, why he could never leave you, no matter how hard he tries. It's because —

"I love you."

The huge weight he'd been carrying for God knows how long finally shifts off of his shoulders — like releasing a held breath, like pieces lining into place. His vision blurs at the edges, he doesn't understand the gravity of what he's just said until seconds later, when it's too late to go back and when you're staring at him wide-eyed, caught in surprise.

There's a look behind his eyes that's hopeful, soft, scared. He's shaking again, from his shoulders to his hands. "Shit, I really shouldn't say that, huh?"

Satoru hides those hints of nervousness behind his usual smile, he huffs a half-hearted sort of laugh, he brings a palm to his face and covers it, "Ahhhh, you're right, I'm an idiot. You're… important to me, that's all I'm trying to say. I still don't know what I'm going to do, I can't risk putting you in danger. But I'll figure something out. I owe it to you."

For a couple of moments, you don't speak. Satoru listens to the pound of his heart in his ears. He'd break the silence if he knew of anything better to say. Then, you close the distance between him and yourself, and he notices, but he isn't about to stop you.

You're reaching for him and he's letting it happen; you embrace him, wrap your arms around him tight, and he's sinking, falling. Finally. He's needed this so much.

Hesitantly at first, he allows himself to hold you back, and then hard, he embraces you almost desperately. Curled over your form, he rests his forehead on your shoulder, he squeezes you firm, he melts into your arms. He's all around you, he relaxes fully for the first time in ages and allows his muscles to grow weary, heavy.

You're warm. Your palm rubs his back in gentle circles, Satoru draws in a slow and shuddering breath between pouty lips like a child.

Your words are everything he's always wanted to hear.

"I love you too."

He can't help but smile, can't help but feel the apples of his cheeks growing warm, "Yeah? I love you more."

You smirk even though he can't see it, your palm reaches the back of his head and you press him closer, so close he thinks he might implode.

A pause. "I'm scared, to tell you the truth." He confesses, "I don't want to hurt you."

His chest is aching, just at the thought. Your fingers meet his soft hair and he sighs deeply, he holds you like he'd fall to pieces if he let go.

You mutter quietly, earnestly, "You could never hurt me. Not ever."

Satoru grips the back of your shirt hard. "Could curse you pretty bad, though."

Your voice curls right into his ear. "Think so?"

Slowly, deliberately, you start to pull away from him, just enough to lock his gaze with yours and hold his chin between two of your fingers. He's in a trance as you drag him closer, your head tilting, free hand teasing when it ghosts the back of his neck.

Perhaps he knew he'd give in to you from the very beginning. Maybe he's stupid for this. He's always been such a fool for you. But he'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe and by his side, he's already decided. He'll love you as much as someone who never could possibly can. Whatever it takes.

"If you're gonna curse me-" You're leaning in, he follows your pull; his eyelids flutter closed, his head is so dizzy he feels light, his nerves throb with anticipation. His plush lips brush yours and you speak right up against them.

"... At least make it count."

And when you kiss, Satoru's finally reached right into heaven.

his character is hard to write. but I'm learning... I think

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x you #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff

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woso-dreamzzz · 28 days

Text

Flag

Frida Maanum x Emma Lennartsson x Child!Reader

Summary: Frida gets a surprise

There's something about the atmosphere at Borehamwood that Frida likes. Maybe it's the pitch or the changing room or something else. But, secretly, Frida thinks it's the fans.

They turn out in droves, filling the stands and lining up for hours to get in.

The fans are perfect and the signs are funny too.

Frida likes the flags the best though. It's not often that she sees a Norwegian flag in the stands. Plenty of English flags and Ireland flags too (Katie seems to have a never ending amount of fans from Ireland flying over just to see her play).

It's always a nice day to see a Norwegian flag in the crowd. They don't even have to be the big ones hanging over the railings or the ones that fans would give her to wear around her shoulders.

Any flag, big or small, was always welcome to see in the stands.

Frida thinks they make her play better. She sees it and she almost always scores a goal or assists someone else's.

Just like today.

She'd spotted it in the second half, a little handheld flag being waved over by the seated area. She thinks a kid is holding it but it's too far away to properly see.

But the ball was at her feet and then suddenly it was in the back of the net and, as Frida celebrated, she knew it was seeing her flag that got her through it all.

She sees the flag again when the match is over, waving back and forth.

She follows the flag to a little hand. The hand to an arm. The arm to an Arsenal shirt. The Arsenal shirt up to two chubby little cheeks and those chubby cheeks to a very familiar face.

Frida's moving again before anyone can stop her. Stina tries to talk to her but Frida doesn't wait. She's not meant to hop the barrier but she does.

She takes the steps two at a time before reaching the little girl with the flag, crushing her into a hug.

"Hi, Mama," You whisper against her.

"Hi, squishy," Frida says to you. She lifts her head up to rest her chin on your head, looking at Emma. "Hi."

"Hello," Emma chuckles," Good surprise?"

"The best surprise."

Frida releases you but you don't move, happy to curl into her body.

"Did you see my flag, Mama?" You ask," I bought it just for you!"

"I did see it, squish," Frida says. One arm wraps around you again while the other reaches out for Emma. "I scored that goal for you, you know."

You giggle. "Silly, Mama. You don't know we were here!"

"But I saw your flag," Frida insists," And that made me score my goal. Thank you, squish."

You smile at her, a big smile that has Frida raining kisses down on your face. "It was a good goal, Mama. Mummy was very happy."

Emma's face goes a little red at that but Frida doesn't care about teasing her right now, more than happy with you in one arm and Emma's hand in her own.

"I'm glad," Frida says, looking down at you again," I'm glad my girls are happy."

"I'm always happy to see you, Mama!"

She isn't quite sure why but Frida chokes a little, trying to force down her tears so you don't notice but you do.

"Mama," You say," You're crying."

"Happy tears, squish," She assures you," I am very happy that you and Mummy decided to surprise me."

"We woke up very early," You say to her," And then we got on a plane."

"It's been a long day," Emma agrees. She draws you away from Frida and you go willingly. "Go and get changed and we'll head home."

"Come with me," Frida blurts out.

"Home?" Emma asks in amusement," I assumed we were already doing that."

"No, I mean to the locker room. I don't think I can cope being separated now."

Emma bounces you on her knee. "Would you like that, squish? Going into the locker room with Mama?"

You nod, head bobbing up and down. "Yes, please."

Emma gets up and settles you on her hip so you're comfortable. She keeps her fingers threaded with Frida's as she's guided through the halls and into the locker room.

Most of the girls have already come in so Frida's one of the last and everyone stares when she leads you and Emma in.

You've met the Arsenal girls before but you're not too familiar with them because you live in Sweden with Mummy most of the time, going with her to practice at Linköping.

So, you get put in Mama's cubby as she changes. She makes silly faces at you while Mummy talks to a few people she knows.

Mama was wearing a red Arsenal shirt like yours. She always gets you a new one whenever the new kit launches so you can match.

You don't see Mama in person a lot because her life is in England but she always calls every night to read you your bedtime story. She does all the voice correctly and she always makes you laugh.

You like that you get to have your favourite stories read to you in person tonight.

"Ready to go, squish?" Mama asks.

"Yes, Mama. We going home now?"

Frida beams at you. "Yes, we're going home."

#woso x reader #frida maanum x reader #frida maanum #emma lennartsson x reader #emma lennartsson #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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steddieas-shegoes · 3 months

Text

it's not ever what it looks like

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is saying you're sorry'

rated m | 3,299 words | cw: language, implied sexual content | tags: angst with a happy ending, arguing, established relationship, hurt/comfort, rock star eddie munson, teacher steve harrington, modern au, steve thinks eddie is cheating on him but HE ISN'T I PROMISE, marriage proposal

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

It wasn't the first time Steve woke up to pictures and articles about Eddie being seen with some model or actor, but it was the first time he'd actually been worried.

Eddie had been distant lately. Usually, when he was on tour, he'd call Steve on his lunch break and text him when he got off of work, and he'd try to Facetime him after his show if it wasn't in a different time zone.

But for the past week or so, he had excuses. They sounded legitimate until one of the afternoons he said the band was caught up in an interview so he couldn't call and Jeff called him ten minutes later to ask where Eddie was. Even with that, Steve hadn't assumed he was cheating.

Steve figured maybe Eddie was just tired or his social battery had run out. Those kinds of things happened before occasionally.

But not daily for over a week.

He was barely even responding to texts, and the ones he did respond to were hours later and hardly adding to any conversation.

And now this article.

There was a picture of Eddie standing with his arm around some guy who was taller than him, both of them laughing, looking at each other like...well. Steve knew that look because it'd only ever been pointed at him, but now he was seeing it pointed at just some guy.

The headline read EDDIE MUNSON GIVING UP HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEART FOR SUPERMODEL SUPERSTAR?

Steve decided the only way through this was to read the entire article. At least then he could probably convince himself they were wrong.

Except the article went on to explain how Eddie hadn't brough Steve to any shows yet this tour, and how he'd been flirting more with the crowd after the show instead of just during it, how he was seen at two bars over the last week when he usually doesn't go out after shows.

It went on to say that these pictures were taken shortly after they'd been seen sneaking away from a group of people they'd been hanging out with and that they seemed very close for the entire night. The article said the guy was a male lingerie model who made it big posing for Gucci last year. He'd just landed his first film role as a supporting actor and was looking to land a lead role soon.

Steve hated him. And he was getting a terrible feeling in his gut about what was going on.

He had 26 unread texts, most of them from Robin, Dustin, and Gareth.

All of them had said mostly the same things:

I can't get ahold of Eddie.

He wouldn't do this.

Something else is going on.

Call me when you can.

The last one was Gareth, and it's not that he and Gareth weren't close, but they never talked on the phone.

He tried not to think about he didn't have a single message or missed call from Eddie.

Steve called Gareth.

"Steve. Shit, I'm glad you called."

"What's going on?"

Gareth sighed. "Ed's kinda losing it. But before you call him-"

"Why would I call him? Shouldn't he be the one to call me? If he wants to be with some supermodel, he should probably be the one to break up with me, right?" Steve could feel tears gathering in his eyes, stinging the back of his throat. "I'm not sure why I have to be the one to hurt and do the breaking up."

"Steve-"

"Is there something you needed Gareth? Or were you just trying to defend your friend?"

"There's nothing to defend! I swear-"

"Yeah. Well. Tell him to call me if he wants to explain anything, I guess."

Steve hung up just before a sob ripped from his throat.

He never had to worry about Eddie being a famous rock star, spending 6-7 months of the year gone, meeting all kinds of flashy celebrities. Eddie loved him so much, he never had any doubt that he'd always be his first choice.

Until now.

It was a shitty feeling and he had to be at work in less than an hour.

No time to wallow.

He sent a quick text to Robin to let her know he was okay, but needed to focus on getting through work, then shut off his phone.

"Is everything okay?" the art teacher, Mrs. Phineas, asked him on their lunch break. "You seem out of it today."

"Just a migraine," Steve gave a half-smile, hoped it was enough to convince her to leave him alone. He still hadn't turned on his phone, and at this point, he didn't really want to.

She tilted her head to the side. "When are you off to see your man?"

"Don't know," he shrugged, ignoring the tug in his stomach, the sudden weight in his chest.

"Ah," she said, turning back to her soup. "Something happened."

"Nothing happened!"

"You look two seconds away from crying," she gave him a deadpan look. "Did he hurt you?"

Mrs. Phineas was a little older than Wayne, close to retirement, and had been his closest friend from the moment he started teaching at this school nearly six years ago. He'd told her everything about Eddie, their relationship, his hopes of Eddie taking a longer break after this tour so they could have some time just the two of them, maybe make a real plan for their future.

Steve nodded once.

Her hand covered his and she squeezed his fingers in her own. "I may not know him half as well as I know you, but I know that boy loves you. You two will get through this, whatever it is."

"I dunno if we will," Steve whispered, scared to speak louder and risk the tears falling. He'd been doing so well today.

She patted his hand and went back to eating, saying nothing else about it.

His students had caught on early that he wasn't quite his usual self, and the group of second graders had been on their best behavior because of it. As the dismissal bell rang and he started calling for bus riders to line up, someone walked through his door.

Eddie walked through his door.

He bit back the anger, knowing his students loved Eddie and wouldn't know he was here for any reason other than to say hello.

"Mr. Munson!" A few of them yelled as most of them ran up to him instead of getting in the line Steve asked them to.

"Hi kiddos!" Eddie was faking it, but luckily the students couldn't tell. "Sorry, but you guys have to listen to Mr. H right now. I promise I will come say hi again tomorrow."

The students grumbled about it and Steve took in his appearance.

He had dark circles under his eyes like he hadn't slept the night before, his hair was in a messy bun instead of perfectly arranged to fall on his shoulders, and he was wearing Steve's hoodie that had suspiciously gone missing the last time he'd been home.

The fact that Steve's first thought was how badly he wanted to pull him into a hug was not a good sign.

He checked names off the list as they filtered out the door and then called the car riders to line up. He went through the list and made sure everyone made it into the hall where they'd be called when their parent pulled up before turning back to Eddie.

He closed his door and made his way to his desk, ignoring the way Eddie awkwardly stood by one of the student desks in the front.

"What are you doing here?" Steve asked, signing off of his work email and organizing tomorrow's lesson plan.

"I needed to explain-"

"Right."

"That article wasn't supposed to come out yet."

Steve's jaw dropped. So he wasn't going to deny it, he was just gonna act like it was the media's fault for releasing it before he could talk to Steve.

"Yeah. So you decided to come break up with me in person because you got caught cheating instead of doing it over the phone right before the article hit online. Got it."

Steve was not going to cry about this. Not in front of Eddie.

He was going to go home, shower, try to eat something, and then he was going to cry for the next 10 hours.

"No, Steve, you don't understand."

"You're right, I don't. I don't understand how you could throw away a 10 year relationship for a model who doesn't even know your middle name. I don't understand how you can fly all the way here and interrupt my day at my job to try to explain to me why you were so cozy with a guy who doesn't even know that you like your hot chocolate with Bailey's instead of regular milk. I really don't understand how you couldn't even bother to text or call me one single time since the article to even try to explain anything." Steve wiped his eyes furiously, angry that his tears were betraying him. "I don't understand why you would expect me to care for reasons."

Eddie wordlessly picked Steve's phone up off the desk and powered it on. He set it down in front of Steve and waited.

Texts and calls and emails came through all at once, hundreds of notifications lighting up his screen.

Many of them from Eddie himself.

"Go ahead. Open them," Eddie didn't sound mad, he just sounded resigned.

So Steve read through the texts, many of them different renditions of 'please Steve, call me' and 'I love you sweetheart I'm sorry.' Not promising.

But then he started playing the voicemails.

"Stevie, it's really not what it looks like. It's never what it looks like. You know that. Please call me as soon as you can. I love you."

"I can explain everything if you call me back. I promise you it isn't anything more than a business thing. Everyone in the band can tell you. I swear. Just. Please."

"I'm getting on a flight to you now. I'm gonna keep trying to call you even when I land. I need you to know what's going on."

"Just landed. I'm on my way to you. The guys are a little pissed, but you're more important than the show tonight. I'm not doing my own thing until I know you understand."

Steve looked up at him, tears still falling down his face.

"Well?" He asked, broken.

"His name is Wyatt. He's trying to make it in the acting world and he was pretty much told he was the top choice for playing lead in a movie that's in early stages of development," Eddie spoke quickly.

"Great for him."

"It's actually great for all of us. The movie is a biopic of Corroded Coffin. He's expected to play me."

At any other time, Steve would be proud, he'd be jumping up and down at this chance for them, and he'd be kissing Eddie without a care in the world.

But he still saw that picture and that article, and no matter how much "business" was going on, it was pretty clear that wasn't all that was going on.

"So you thought sleeping with him would help him get into the role? Or did you just wanna get into him?" Steve bit back.

"The article was wrong! The picture was just really conveniently timed! You know the media are vultures, Stevie. How many times have they written about us breaking up? How many times have they said Gareth and I have secretly been married for the last two years? How many times have they tried to post shitty things about your relationship before me to prove that you can't possibly be queer?" Eddie pulled Steve to his feet and cupped his face in his hands. "I've been spending the last two weeks talking with him and the producer and the guys to see what might work best for production. They want us involved in as much of the writing and filming part as possible. And he had time in his schedule to come to a show last night, so we all took him out after so he could get a taste of what it's like for us. He's really excited for the role and all of us are really excited for the movie."

Steve felt stupid. Well, maybe not stupid. His feelings were valid and he wasn't dramatic about what he'd seen.

But he did feel a little shitty about doubting Eddie.

Eddie, who had literally flown across the country to explain in person so that there was no way Steve could misunderstand him. Eddie, who once Doordashed him soup from his favorite restaurant when he was sick even though he was in Europe. Eddie, who sent letters to the kids in his class once a month to talk about how important music is and following your dreams. Eddie, who loved him for ten years and wouldn't have let anyone get in the way of what they'd built.

Steve fell against Eddie, buried his face in his neck and his hands in his shirt. Eddie's arms wrapped around him, his voice saying something against his shoulder. Steve couldn’t hear him, but he didn’t think he needed to.

He just needed to feel him.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said against his neck. Tears soaked the hoodie under him, and Steve could feel tears against his own button down. “I shouldn’t have- I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Eddie shook his head. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone until the article hit, but I was still gonna call you and warn you but I didn’t and I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. This is part of the whole lifestyle. I should be used to it,” Steve shuddered as Eddie’s hand scratched at his scalp. “I should’ve reacted better.”

“We both didn’t treat this the way we should’ve.”

Steve snorted, nodded as he found the spot Eddie had tattooed on his neck a couple years earlier. He pressed his lips over the tattoo of his lip print.

“You flew across the country over this,” Steve pulled away and looked at Eddie, vision blurred from crying. “Just to make things okay.”

“I needed you to know. I needed to hold you. I needed to have you in front of me. And I wanted to celebrate the fact that we’re getting a movie about our lives,” Eddie smirked. “I wonder who will play you. Someone with a nice ass is a must. Their hair will have to defy gravity. Don’t know if they’ll find anyone with that smile, though.”

“Me? Why would they need anyone to play me?” Steve played with the string of the hoodie. “That might be kinda boring.”

“How would they make a movie about me and not include you? You’re the reason I ever made it past Hawkins, sweet thing,” Eddie leaned in to kiss his bottom lip. “Maybe they’ll just cast you. No one else could pull it off.”

“Eds-“ Steve blushed. “Wait. Okay, I trust you, but what were you doing in the picture?”

Eddie laughed. “He had just finished telling me about his boyfriend who lives in Italy. He’s apparently just a regular guy in finance who has no interest in the whole fame thing. Sound familiar?”

“Sounds like you two have a lot in common.”

“The picture was me asking if we could crash at their home in Italy next summer on our honeymoon,” Eddie said casually.

Steve froze. “Honeymoon?”

“I’m open to other places, but you still haven’t been to Italy and I know how much you wanted to see Rome and Florence,” Eddie was smirking.

That bastard.

“You are ridiculous, you know that? I’m over here planning how I’ll survive a breakup with you and you fly across the country to propose with a honeymoon planned before I’ve even said yes! You know how crazy that sounds, right?” Steve shook his head. “You’re lucky I love you. You’re lucky I’m not interested in big romantic gestures.”

“Damn. Hold on, let me make a call,” Eddie reached into his pocket for his phone.

“What?”

“I gotta cancel the big romantic gesture,” Eddie explained as he typed furiously on his phone.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“It was a whole thing. Robin was involved. There may have been 500 flowers ordered. I think it’s too late to cancel the singing telegram though.”

“I genuinely can’t tell if you’re being serious,” Steve wouldn’t be surprised if at least some of that was true.

“Oh, I’m serious. The ring was being set on the bed in the middle of a heart made of rose petals. I didn’t half-ass a fucking thing, angel.”

Steve pulled his phone out of his hands and set it on his desk. “Don’t cancel anything. I changed my mind. I am very much into big romantic gestures when it’s you doing them.”

“It was a team effort. I mean, I had to move it all up unexpectedly, but this was all gonna happen next month when I came home." Eddie pulled Steve into a long kiss, tongue tracing his lips. He pulled away to rest their foreheads together. "I'm not doing this just because of what happened, but I need you to know you're it for me. You've stuck by me through failing senior year, through being broke trying to book gigs all over the midwest, through the stress of our first album being released and the unexpected overnight fame, every album and tour since then, every time I've had to miss things that matter to you because of the band, all of it. You love me anyway. I don't always deserve it, but I'm grateful."

Steve's lips pressed against Eddie's again. "I love the life we have. I love you."

"I'm not asking you without the ring. I made so many plans. Robin will murder me in my sleep if I don't go through with them," Eddie laughed. "So can we get out of your classroom before I do something inappropriate and get you fired?"

"I mean," Steve glanced at the clock. "Technically all the students should be gone. We could lock the door..."

"Steven Harrington! How dare you suggest I fuck you over your desk in a school! I can't believe you would tell me to unbutton your jeans," he said as he unbuttoned his jeans. "And get on my knees." He got on his knees. "And suck you until you can't stand anymore."

"Eddie!" Steve chuckled, shoving his hand in Eddie's hair. "We should at least lock the door."

"So you're not saying no?"

"Why would I say no?"

"That's what I'm saying!" Eddie got back up and ran to the door, flipping the lock and turning back to Steve with flushed cheeks. "This is like, maybe three of my biggest fantasies in one, so I may actually come in my pants."

"You're ridiculous."

"Baby boy, my hand is my only friend on tour, you know that. How can I possibly hold myself back when I've got your dick in my mouth?" Eddie dropped to his knees again, looking up at Steve with something close to reverence.

"It's not in your mouth yet," Steve smirked as he tugged his waistband down enough to free his cock.

"Oh, I missed you," Eddie said directly to Steve's hard cock. "Steve, I want you to fuck my mouth until I pass out."

"I'm not doing that."

"Okay, well I'll settle for until I have to tap out."

"Fine. But it's not gonna be long for me," Steve shook his head. "Missed you, too."

"The sooner the better, sweetheart."

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddielovemonth #love is saying you're sorry #angst with a happy ending #established relationship #hurt/comfort #rock star eddie munson #teacher steve harrington #arguing #modern au #marriage proposals

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forever-rogue · 2 months

Note

I’m really missing nurse!Steeb x pregnant reader lately, what have they been up to??🥺

AN | I love Nurse!Steeb and his clumsy girl! Besides being pregnant, again, things are as chaotic as always in the Harrington household! 💕

Warnings | Mild Language, Pregnant!Reader

Pairing | Nurse!Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2k

Masterlist | Steve, Main, Nurse Steve

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Guess what,” you walked into your bedroom, inadvertently scaring Steve who had been reading intently. He yelped slightly as you offered him an apologetic grin and got into bed next to him, “sorry babe. But guess what!”

“What's up?” He set his book on his night stand before reaching for your hand and lacing your fingers together.

“I'm twelve weeks today,” it took him a moment to put together what you were saying but as soon as he did, his entire face lit up, “I think its time we told people, what do you think?”

“Yes. Yes,” he agreed eagerly. He'd been wanting to tell people since the day you told him you were pregnant but also understood why you had wanted to wait, “I can't wait to tell everyone. They're going to be so excited.”

“And what about you, Steve Harrington?” You clutched his hand tightly before bringing it to your lips and pressing a kiss to his knuckles, “are you excited? Truly?”

“Of course I am,” he scoffed sweetly as you relaxed, giving him an innocent shoulder shrug, “you know you don’t ever have to question that, sweetheart. I’ve been dying to tell everyone, but I know you wanted to wait. Which totally makes sense.”

“I was just worried,” you whispered softly, “I didn’t want anything to go wrong. I’m really glad it didn’t. I’m excited too.”

“I can’t believe I’ve got you, Cami, and now another baby,” his smile stretched from ear to ear as your face lit up, “I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

“What if I get weird cravings in the middle of the night?” When you were pregnant with Cami, there hadn’t been anything too crazy, but you wanted to be prepared. And you didn’t want to annoy Steve - not that you would ever be able to do such a thing, especially when you were pregnant, “what if I complain all the time? What if I can’t sleep? What if you get annoyed with me? What if Camila doesn’t want-”

“Hey,” he put a finger gently to your lips in order to tenderly cut off any more of your doubt, “I will never get tired of you. You know that. And even if all those things happen, we’ll get through them and I’ll try my best to help you. And I have a feeling that Camila will be very excited for a brother and sister.”

“How can you be sure?”

“She’s been talking about how some of her friends have little brothers and sisters that she thinks it’s really cool,” that made you feel immediately better, “trust me, she’ll be excited.”

“So we’re all excited?” you hadn’t realized a few tears had rolled down your cheeks until Steve gently wiped them away. You reached up and held his hand to your face, offering your husband a misty-eyed smile.

“We’re all excited,” he confirmed as he brushed his thumb along your cheek, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Stevie.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Mama?” Camila's small voice cut through your internal monologue as you shifted your gaze to find her watching you with a worried expression on her little face, “what's wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, my love,” you wiped the tears from your face with the sleeve of your sweater, motioning for her to come over. She padded over and crawled onto the couch next to you, “I'm just feeling a little sad.”

“Why are you feeling sad?”

“There was a commercial with a really cute dog,” you sniffled as she looked at you in confusion, “I know it doesn't make any sense. When you're pregnant your hormones go all crazy and sometimes even happy things can make you cry.”

“Oh,” she considered what you were saying before shaking her head, “I don't think I could ever do that. What's the point?”

“Well, baby, that's how Daddy and I ended up with you. And I'm pretty glad we did,” you pulled her into your lap and pressed a kiss to the top of her dark curls, “and that's how we're going to end up with your brother or sister.”

“Daddy thinks I'll get a sister,” she grinned at you, a gap toothed little smile that you adored more than anything, “what do you think?”

“I think you're getting a little brother,” you whispered softly, “but we're just going to have to wait and see.”

“How much longer?!”

“Four months…ish,” you gently touched your ever-growing belly and sighed, “sometimes babies come a little early but it should be about four months.”

“I'm excited,” she said with wide eyes filled with wonder. She hesitantly reached over and touched your belly as well, “that's cool that they're in there. Does it hurt?”

“It doesn't hurt but sometimes it doesn't feel good,” and that was putting it lightly, “but it's worth It in the end.”

“I hope so,” she nodded solemnly before sliding off the couch and walking towards the kitchen, “can I have some ice cream?”

“Camila Mae,” you slowly stood up and walked after her, “only if you promise to share!”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Steven Harrington,” you pushed your sunglasses to the top of your head, raising an eyebrow at him, “my eyes are up here.”

“Baby,” he huffed, his eyes turning a pretty shade of pink. He had not so discreetly looking at your chest and your belly, “its not fair. You're so hot. Gorgeous. Sexy. Beautiful. All of it.”

“Please,” you rolled your eyes at him before gently pushing his chest, “I'm five months pregnant. I'm hardly anything but a beach ball.”

“You're gorgeous,” he insisted, settling his large hands on your waist as he pulled into him and pressed a kiss to your lips, “plus the bathing suit you're wearing? Fuckin’ killing me.”

“Steve,” you squeaked softly as your entire face warmed up, “you just like it when I'm pregnant.”

“I like you always,” he insisted sweetly, “but there is something about you being pregnant that drives me crazy. And that way everyone knows you're mine.”

“I'm all yours,” you agreed, biting the inside of your cheek, “I love you, Stevie.”

“I love you, baby,” he grinned, “so much-”

“Daddy! Mama!” Cami sounded so adorably annoyed as the two of you looked over at her. She was motioning towards the pool, clearly ready to get into the water, “stop being so gross!”

“Yeah Daddy,” you nudged him towards your daughter, “stop being so gross and hitting on Mama.”

“Stop,” he groaned softly, pressing one last kiss to your lips, “you're doing to be the death of me, I hope you know.”

“So dramatic,” you snorted in amusement, “go have fun and keep our kid from drowning!”

“And you put on plenty of sunscreen,” he insisted pointing at the bag you had packed, “join us when you're ready.”

“I will,” you smiled softly, already feeling some tears welling up. It seemed like everything made you cry these days. It was just one of the many perks of being pregnant, “go have fun. I'll keep an eye on this kid.”

You could hear Steve laughing as he went over to Camila. Her entire little face lit up as her father picked up her and threw her over his shoulder to climb into the pool. It was still crazy sometimes to think that these two people were your favorite people in the entire world.

“And you're pretty special too,” you sat down, slowly of course, on your beach chair and rubbed a hand over your belly, “I can't wait to meet you. You've got a while lot of love waiting for you, just so you know.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You groaned as you walked through the front door and closed it slowly behind you. It had been a long day, and one of the few that you had to work later into the evening. By the time you got home, the Harrington household was already quiet for the evening.

“Hi honey,” Steve was at the door and already reaching for your bag before you could even wonder where he was. You relaxed as you melted into him, gladly taking the kiss he offered you, “let me help.”

You weren’t even going to bother arguing with your husband. He set your bag down in its usual spot before taking your coat and helping you slip off your shoes. When he was done, you instantly felt better. He reached for your hand and slowly led you to the kitchen, “thanks Stevie.”

“You’ve had a long day, it’s the least I can do,” you sat down at the kitchen table and let out a large sigh, running a tired hand over your belly, “how are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling like I’m very pregnant,” you huffed with a small laugh as you watched him put together a plate of food from dinner. He caught your eye and gave you a soft smile, “I can’t believe there’s still like months of this left.”

“If it’s any consolation, I think you’re doing a fantastic job,” he set the plate down in front of you and pressed a kiss to your head before grabbing a drink from the refrigerator. He set it down next to your plate before sitting down next to you, “I don’t think I could ever do it. I mean…growing a whole human is crazy.”

“I agree,” you took a big bite of the warm, delicious food, savoring the flavor before swallowing, “and I’m the one doing it. But I know it’ll be worth it. Blob number two will be worth it, just like Cami was.”

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?” he asked with a hearty laugh, as you offered him a big smile.

“Never,” you promised, “not even if we have another kid in the future. I’m telling you, they look like blobs on the ultrasound and you can’t even say I’m wrong. I mean, you’re a nurse! You gotta admit they just look like blobs more than anything else.”

“I’m going to agree with you because you’re my wife and pregnant,” he folded his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair, playfully narrowing his eyes at you. You stuck your tongue out at him, “I know better than to argue with my pregnant wife. Whom I love very much.”

The sweet tone in his voice caused you to soften as you set down your fork, “I love you too, Steve. So much.”

“I know,” he gently nudged his foot with yours, “is there anything else I can do for you? Whatever you need. Bubble bath?”

“Oh, that sounds lovely,” you agreed, “I feel like even my bones are tired. They could use a good soak.”

“And then you can tell me all about your day,” he insisted as you nodded at him.

“But only if you tell me all about yours,” you replied, “and Camila’s. I’m sure the two of you got up to no good.”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” and that told you enough to know that the two of them definitely got into something, “we’re practically angels.”

“Shut up,” you laughed at him, shaking your head in amusement, “that’ll be the day. But luckily, I love and want to keep you both around.”

“I want you around too,” he stood up and slowly stretched before reaching for your hands, “do you want seconds first or bath now?”

“Bath now,” you let him take your hands and help to hoist you to your feet, “dessert later?”

“Dessert - “ he paused for a moment as you raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to put together what you were actually insinuating, “oh. Oh. Y-yeah, we can do that. Definitely.”

“Come on then,” you tilted your head towards the upstairs, “how often do we get this much peace, quiet and alone time?”

“Almost never,” he agreed, “you’re right. Let’s go.”

Needless to say, things were as hectic and chaotic as ever in the Harrington household.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #nurse!steve #st #joe keery

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myuminji · 1 year

Text

Just a comic about two people catching up again [Angel AU]

[ID: A Trigun comic of Wolfwood after his death in Trigun Maximum.

Abbreviated ID: Wolfwood is now an angel with wings and a halo tied to his grave. He cannot be seen or heard by others, but Livio visited his grave and mostly filled him in on the finale, and Wolfwood waits for Vash to show up. When he does, Wolfwood is stunned and worried by his black hair, though he deems Vash fine when he pulls out drinks for them both.

Vash pours the drinks and talks. He confesses that he killed someone and calls himself a coward and the worst, apologizing for being selfish and not saving Wolfwood. Wolfwood angrily shouts that everything was his decision, and Vash is an idiot for blaming himself.

He says that Vash has done so much for Wolfwood and for others, and he calls Vash brave. Vash falls asleep with tears in his eyes, but he seems lighter when he wakes up. Vash leaves, promising to return, and Wolfwood says that he'll "watch him from afar... again." The title is "#1 'What happened to your hair?'". Full ID below readmore in 21 paragraphs.

The comic starts with a dark, noise-filter panel of the Punisher being used as Wolfwood's gravestone, with the quote "Nicholas D. Wolfwood has died" written over it.

Below that is Wolfwood, who has wings and a halo. He sits pensively and narrates, "At least, that's what everyone has come to believe, including me. Yet here I am, still roaming on this damn barren planet... But I wouldn't say I'm quite alive anymore. Since I couldn't feel hunger or thirst like I used to." He thinks, "'Ghost,' like those horror stories was it?"

He narrates over sketchy panels of himself frowning while floating next to his grave and yelling at Livio. "There, are other things I found that fits the term, like how I can't bring myself to far too far from my grave, or how others can't see me at all." We see Livio tearing up and saying "Nico-nii..." while Wolfwood furiously waves his arms and shouts, "I am!! Here!!!!"

Livio is shown speaking with a teary smile while Wolfwood leans against Punisher and listens. Wolfwood says, "Livio is the first and only person I've met so far. And luckily, he was quite a storyteller. I was able to get a grasp of the situation, and its aftermath. And what happened to him in the end."

Livio smiles and says, "It's been three months ever since... But even if we couldn't get ahold of him now, I'm sure he'll come back to you someday." Wolfwood narrates, "—And knowing that idiot, he probably would."

A close-up of Vash's coat in the wind as Wolfwood narrates, "So it didn't come as a surprise to me when he visited my grave. I'd even thought up of things to say when we meet again. Everything was thrown out of the window when he appears, of course. I could vividly remember the one question that burns in my head..."

Wolfwood looks shocked as Vash, hair fully black, waves cheerfully, "Yo! It's been a while, hasn't it? Wolfwood." Below the two floats the question: "#1 'What happened to your hair?'"

Wolfwood sweats, "Spikey, your hair. Doesn't it mean... Are you okay???" Vash smiles sheepishly, "Ah, I hope you're not mad I didn't come sooner, don't haunt me please..." Wolfwood shouts, "That's not the problem right now!!" Vash pulls something out and exclaims, "But look what I got for you!! Alcohol!!!" Wolfwood shouts, "What sort of person do you see me as!?"

Vash excitedly pulls out a bottle and two shot glasses. "It's not the only reason why I'm late, but it did took me a month to hunt this down... I recall you said you wanted to try them, right?" Wolfwood buries his face in his hands and says, "Where the hell are your priorities... You know what, yeah. I'm not gonna ask anymore since you look fine."

Vash smiles a bit tiredly and says, "Hmm,, I'm glad this place hasn't turn to ruins yet~ I've still got lots I need to tell you that's happened out there! And I thought it's better to talk about it with drinks on the side…" He clinks two glasses together. "So, cheers! ..."

He and Wolfwood are both awkwardly silent, and Vash sweats and frowns nervously. Then he pours a glass onto the ground, and Wolfwood furiously shouts, "D'ya really expect me to drink off the ground!? Stupid needle noggin!!!!!"

Vash laughs sheepishly, and he speaks via empty speech bubbles while Wolfwood listens, drinking with a small smile. Vash says, "... And when that happened I..." He drops his gaze and says between long pauses, "I..... When that happened......" Wolfwood watches him seriously as he says, "... Say. Wolfwood, is this how you've felt all the time?"

Vash looks down sadly. "You I see, I... killed someone in the end." He laughs, eyebrows drawn in. "I guess you're right. I am bound to choose someday." He takes another sip, then downs it and falls backwards. "Isn't it funny? That I've called you a coward once for killing... But guess who's the coward now~? It's always been me, isn't it?"

Vash lies on his back and laughs. "... Haha. I wonder if you're laughing too. I really am the worst, aren't I?" Wolfwood looks down as Vash continues, "You've done so much for me, but all I've caused you are troubles. I was selfish, always chasing after my own goals... That you couldn't ask for my help. That I couldn't save you. Just what kind of friend am I?"

Vash scrubs his eyes with an arm and says shakily, "Sorry... Wolfwood... I'm so sorry..." A close-up panel of his mouth shows Wolfwood saying, "... Just so you know--" Expression unimpressed, he exclaims, "There's no way in hell I'm accepting that lousy apology! You drunkard!"

He stands up and seems to kick Vash, who's still on the ground and mostly out of sight. Wolfwood demands, "Why are you even sorry for something like that, huh?? I chose my own path. It was all my decision! How many times do I say it to get it stick in that thick head of yours? Stop. Blaming. Yourself. For the things. You've not done. Idiot! Stupid spikey hair!!"

Vash's face is cut off, but a tear in his eye can be seen as he weakly says, "... oof.. wood..." Wolfwood looks tired and sighs, "... Ha... Don't feel bad about me. Until when will you realise just how much you've done for us? You've done more than enough for me, Needle Noggin."

The perspective zooms out to focus on the sky and two moons, including the fifth moon. Wolfwood's wings and the Punisher can just be seen at the bottom. Wolfwood says, "And you're brave, to go against what you've been taught your whole life. You're not a coward. You faced them until the end. So don't sell yourself short like that next time, okay?" We see Vash's face, smiling with tears in his closed eyes. Wolfwood concludes: "I'll get mad."

Wolfwood narrates, "—He passed out right after for the whole night on the cold ground. I realised how little I could help in the situation." He tries to drape his coat over Vash, sweating, and wonders, "Wouldn't it just pass through ...?"

Time passes, and Vash gets up with a sneeze and rubs his eyes. Wolfwood watches him with his eyebrows raised, and Vash laughs quietly and a bit nervously. Wolfwood narrates, "As if he'd heard my voice, a burden seems to be lifted off his shoulder when he woke up. That, or maybe he'd forgotten what happened last night. He was quick to take his leave right after.

"And so, Vash the Stampede went on a journey with a promise." Vash waves goodbye, turning to leave with his bag in hand. "I'll be sure to bring back more stuff next time!! See you later!" Wolfwood concludes, "While I watch him from afar... again." Wolfwood sits below the Punisher and waves back, saying with bemusement, "Has he never heard the phrase 'do not disturb the death?' He really throws me off..." The title is named, and it says "/ END." End ID]

[link to Image ID reblog post!]

#''if you can't go to see the world I'll bring the world to you instead'' post trimax vash who often comes back to ww bringing things he foun #and it piles up. alot.#i have up to 8 chp of these tho idt i can draw them all haha #vash the stampede #nicholas d wolfwood #trigun #trigun maximum #trimax spoilers #trigun maximum spoilers #vashwood #centric #/p

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