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#it's just a small thing but for years if my hair needed to be washed I would just take a full shower
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Could you please write more about pregnant Tiriel? Your writing about her finding out she's expecting and about Astarion hearing the baby's heartbeat were one of my favorites?
Synopsis: Astarion takes care of pregnant Tiriel.
Tags: dadstarion, pregnancy, fluff
Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!
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“I think I am going to die in childbirth,” Tiriel says, pressing her face to her knees.
Astarion would sigh if he could. Tiriel sits shoulder-deep in a bath of warm water, as the vampire washes her hair and rubs her back.
“You aren’t going to die. You are a half-elf and I am sure the child is rather small. Look at your belly, you are in your last month and it’s not really showing.”
Tiriel turns away. Well, to call her belly small would be an underestimation – her slim body is currently betraying pregnancy. It’s covered in stretch marks that won’t disappear, ever. But again, Astarion has seen many pregnant human women in Daggerlake within the last five years and Tiriel has definitely been spared, carrying someone who takes after their elven ancestors.
But once Astarion thinks he’s managed to cheer her up, Tiriel sniffs.
“What if something is wrong with the baby? You are a vampire! I love you and all that, but you are still undead! What am I even carrying inside? And what if the child is sick? Or deformed? Or…What if it is going to kill me?”
“I can promise you, if something goes wrong, we are saving you,” Astarion splashes water on her hair.
“Thank you.”
He kisses her shoulder. “Don’t worry that much, the last thing you need is to cause a complication.”
Tiriel touches his fingers. 
Astarion adds more soap to the tub. The scent of vomit and sweat still lingers on Tiriel’s skin and Astarion takes a clean piece of rug.
Tiriel has been feeling so bad in the last few days she barely left her bed. Her legs hurt, she couldn’t eat without vomiting, and she hardly slept because of back pains. She finally made herself go out that evening to eat properly, but, the moment Tiriel finished her dinner, she felt nauseous and everything Astarion had cooked for her ended up on her home shirt.
That moment, Astarion had enough of that and carried Tiriel to the bath. 
“I'm sorry,” she says.
“What for?”
“I look disgusting.”
“Nothing is disgusting about a pregnant woman,” Astarion says, rubbing her left ear. “Besides, I’ve seen and done much worse things than giving a bath to someone I’ve knocked up. Your condition is my fault and I am taking full responsibility! Now, let me wash your front.”
Tiriel presses her back against the tub allowing Astarion to get to her belly and legs. Astarion smiles seeing the visible bump and carefully rubs the skin.
He is so close he can hear the second heartbeat. 
It is not clear to him when the child is going to be born. Elves are pregnant for two years, but Tiriel’s body is hardly capable of doing so. Humans need nine months for the same process, but Astarion has learned from the healers in Secomber, the closest big town to Daggerlake, that it’s never clear with half-elves. And it also depends on the child – Astarion tries to think about the baby as an elf with just a bit of human ancestry (still enough to fuck up the gentle elven biology).
But in reality…
The child is half-him, half a vampire anyway. And that should bother him.
He is afraid of that moment. He waits for that moment to come. And he also misses Tiriel in sensual terms. He wants her blood (which is out of reach for him till she stops breastfeeding), he wants her body (they haven’t had sex ever since she got pregnant). 
And he wants her to stop being in such pain daily.
“I look ugly,” Tiriel chuckles. “Don’t try to say it’s not true.”
“It's not. You are beautiful!”
Suddenly Tiriel flicks his nose. “My eyes are here.”
Astarion realizes he’s been staring at her swollen breasts and small droplets of white liquid on Tiriel’s nipples.
“Stop all this nonsense, Tiriel!'' Astarion takes her leg and stretches it to wash it better. “I like caring about you. I like how you look. And I absolutely love that it's me who did this to you. It all feeds my vampiric possessiveness, after all!”
“And I love that it was you who did this to me,” Astarion feels Tiriel’s fingers on his cheek.
“Now, get out of the water before it gets too cold!” Astarion brings towels. “Is food still out of the question?”
“I want something hot to drink.”
“I will make you herbal tea, then.”
Astarion, after making sure she is dry, carries Tiriel to bed.
He looks outside. What he loves about his house in the underground part of Daggerlake is the big windows. There is no point in hiding from the sun, and Astarion can enjoy going outside whenever he wants. Besides, the biggest part of the town is underground too, and Astarion also doesn’t feel like an outcast.
And his neighbors have seen much worse things than vampires who know the law.
Suddenly Tiriel yelps. He turns to her and notices the night shirt she’s put on is wet. 
But wasn’t Tiriel's skin dry when he took her from the bath?
Tiriel hugs her belly and lets out a cry of pain. 
“Tiriel…” Astarion rushes to her. No, not today. He still needs time to get ready.
Tiriel grabs his shoulder. “Go to the healer… I am.. Gods…”
The child has decided to be born today. ------ You can read what happens next in Little Bundle of Darkness --
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deathbecomesthem · 1 day
Text
Eddie Munson x GN!Reader blurb (wc 790)
Summary: You have a depression induced crying jag. Eddie comforts you. Based on my own experience.
Warnings: This is how my depression feels for me sometimes. It's not a universal thing. I just wanted Eddie to comfort the reader, and meet them where they are.
*Not proofread.
** This is something that was published on a different blog sometime last year. It's going here tonight because I need it.
--
The wrongness was weighing on you, it had been for the last few days. It’s second nature, hiding behind the jokes. You learned a long time ago how to move through your days while your mind is in its darkest corners. You have the script memorized, your hands do the work that’s required without you making the decision to do it.
So you did. You did and did and did. You accomplished. You ate food. You drank water. You relieved yourself. You even managed the expected small talk with your coworkers. No one noticed that the corner of your smile never quite sat right on your face. And now, as you and Eddie sit on the couch, his head resting on your shoulder, you can’t do it anymore.
“Hey, Ed, I’m really tired,” you give his knee a little shake to draw his attention away from whatever show he was watching on the television. A cartoon, you don’t know, you’re not actually here with him at the moment. You make sure to keep your voice light and steady, “I’m gonna go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”
You give him your smile, and you know it must look wrong, but you hope it’s enough to satisfy him. You kiss his cheek, his lips are downturned missing the warmth of your body next to him. He says something to you, and you just nod and say goodnight, hoping you remembered the correct words, mentally checking your script.
You don’t stop in the kitchen and get a glass of water. You don’t go to the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face. You don’t even stop to take an allergy pill. You float along the carpet with one thought in your mind. So close. You can close the door and finally be alone and let the dark move to the front of your mind in privacy.
You do not put your clothes in the hamper. You let them fall to the ground. You do not put your soft night clothes on. You pad to the bed, climb under the covers, and the dam breaks. Sobs wrack your body, wailing like a child into your pillow to muffle the sound. The soft darkness wraps around you and pulls you deep into a feeling of loss and pain. The release of everything you’ve held onto for the last few days – weeks – years all comes crashing through you in a violent way. It feels like grief, like mourning. A loss of something you can’t quite remember.
It goes on like this. On and on. Snot and tears covering your pillow while you howl. You care less and less about the noise the further you sink into the darkness. The last time you cried like this (wept, really) was years ago. Tears do not come easily for you, and at this moment, you know they won’t stop until you fall asleep – resting in the dark, face puffy and stained.
You don’t hear Eddie come into the room. You don’t feel him get into the bed next to you. You’re gone, lost to anything but feeling the pain and letting it surge through you physically. You do feel the warmth of his arm around your center. Firm and pulling you into him. He doesn’t quiet your wails, he just wraps his arms and legs around your body. His weight grounding you and keeping you from getting lost more than you already are.
Minutes, hours, days, months, years pass in that bed. You weave in and out of consciousness, every time you find yourself in bed with Eddie’s body enveloping you. His mouth pressed against your neck, his warm and steady breath releasing from his nose and into your hair. Sleep finally takes you under when your own breathing matches the rhythm of his lungs. You rest in those strong arms, comforting. They are your home.
In the morning when your alarm rings, Eddie’s arms and legs are still holding you, relaxed with sleep but you still feel held. Your eyes are swollen and it’s difficult to open them. Despite sleeping, your body is more exhausted then before you came into the bedroom last night.
His arms pull you into him as he’s roused, nose back in your neck. “Baby. I’m here.” The choked sob that comes from you is not as hopeless as the grief you felt in the night. Not with his voice, breath, heartbeat, and arms so close to you.
You both stay in bed while you make the phone calls. You’re both sick today and can’t go to work, you tell your bosses. You ate something bad yesterday, maybe you’ll feel better tomorrow. Today, though, you need to rest and Eddie needs to be with you.
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whatacaitastrophe · 3 days
Text
Everything Has Changed - Chapter 13
Previous Chapter
Chapter Song Inspiration: "Morally Grey" - April Jai ft. Nation Haven
Chapter Warnings: PiV sex, Oral sex, Hand jobs, blood drinking, threesome F/M/M, masturbation, voyeurism, edgeplay, teasing, female ejaculation
Spotify Playlist: Here
Author Notes: thank you all so much for reading, reblogging, liking, and commenting on this fic (and the first one)! if you are interested in supporting me in other ways, I have a Ko-Fi link <3
i also have a discord server! it was created to coincide with my twitch channel but you do NOT need to follow/subscribe/watch my twitch streams to come hang out with us <3 we talk a lot about bg3 and share memes and fics.
Chapter 13: Your Body I'll Worship
The door to the bedroom swung open magically with a small wave of Gale’s hand, and a wave of pride washed through Fallon. Gale had been working so hard to completely re-learn magic in this new way, and it didn’t surprise her that the simple spells were coming back to him as easily as breathing. Though Fallon only got the briefest moment to think about Gale’s progress before she became distracted by the sight laid out before her. 
There were even more black dahlia petals scattered throughout the room, candles on every surface that could safely hold a candle, and there was soft music coming from a phonograph in the far corner. Then there was the bed. The big, beautiful, four-poster bed that would most certainly hold all three of them comfortably, even to sleep. “Did you buy the bed just for this?” Fallon teased Gale. 
“Would you believe me if I said no?” Gale chuckled. “Despite her size, Tara somehow manages to take up a very large spot on the bed when we sleep, so I purchased this particular piece of furniture well before I ever suspected I’d be sharing it with two other people.”
Fallon turned her attention to Astarion. “So what does this next phase of atonement entail, exactly?” She asked, a coy smile blooming on her face. 
Astarion and Gale stopped moving once they reached the foot of the bed, and Astarion let go of her hand in favor of resting his hands on her hips and pulling Fallon closer to him, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around Astarion’s neck. “The first thing it involves, darling, is the removal of this absolutely delicious dress. Since I ruined the last one in my desperation to have you, I thought I’d let someone with slightly more patience do the honors.”
Astarion brushed Falllon’s hair from her shoulder and he leaned down to kiss the exposed skin, slowly working his way to her neck carefully so as not to bite her. Another pair of hands found her back and began to undo the fastenings, and it almost startled her, until she remembered it was Gale. “Though it really is a shame that Astarion ruined your Winter Solstice dress, I have to say, I’m quite fond of this one,” Gale made quick work of the fastenings on the back of her dress. Cool air hit Fallon’s back as it became more exposed as Gale unfastened each clasp; until finally, the only thing keeping the dress on Fallon’s body were the off the shoulder sleeves, and even they were losing a battle with gravity under the weight of the fabric. 
Astarion removed his mouth from her neck and took a step back so he could look at her, reaching behind his neck to grab her hands and place them at her sides. “Turn around, darling. I think the sorcerer deserves a front row seat to what he’s been missing, don’t you?” Astarion kissed her slowly before taking hold of her hips once more and helping Fallon turn around to face Gale. Fallon did not break eye contact with Gale as she felt Astarion’s deft fingers sliding up from her hips to the bodice of her dress. With a firm tug, the black fabric floated to the floor, and for the first time in over two years, Fallon was naked in front of Gale. 
“You cheeky thing, no undergarments at all?” Astarion teased as he wrapped his arms around Fallon from behind, his fingers tracing idle circles on her sides and he kissed her neck again. “Seems we’re not the only ones who planned ahead just in case .” 
“The dress didn’t exactly allow for them.” Fallon defended herself, though a mischievous look shone in her eyes. It’s not like she couldn’t have picked another dress, after all. For once, Gale seemed to be too stunned to speak. Gale flexed his hands at his sides, like he wanted to reach out and touch Fallon, but he kept stopping himself. Fallon extended a hand to Gale, inviting him to come closer. To touch her. “I promise to let you know if you do something I’m not comfortable with.” 
Gale forced himself to look away from Fallon’s body to study her face. He hesitated for less than two seconds before taking Fallon’s hand in his and closing the space between them. Gale’s hands settled on Fallon’s hips and he looked past Fallon and over her shoulder, presumably to look at Astarion. Whatever look or silent communication the vampire offered the sorcerer, it was enough to embolden Gale to take another step towards Fallon. 
“May I kiss you, Fallon?” Gale asked softly, and her stomach did a backflip at the anticipation as she nodded. Gale reached up and tucked his index finger under her chin, using it to tilt her head upwards as he leaned in. When their mouths connected, a jolt of electricity shot through Fallon’s body as emotions she’d buried deep within her catapulted themselves to the surface once again as Gale flooded her senses. If kissing Astarion made her feel like she could conquer the world, kissing Gale was the reminder to survive and come home afterwards. Both feelings were equally important, and equally capable of reminding Fallon how loved she was, and to be loved by both Astarion and Gale? It might just be all Fallon has ever needed. 
At the exact moment that Fallon deepened the kiss, parting her lips for Gale to explore her mouth with his tongue and carding her fingers through his chestnut hair, Fallon felt Astarion’s mouth back on her neck again as his cool hands slid over her skin. Where one hand moved up her body to cup her breast, kneading it with fingers and rolling his thumb over her pebbled nipple, the other moved down, the pads of his fingers dancing over her torso and her hip bone before sliding into place between her legs. Fallon moaned softly into Gale’s mouth as she felt Astarion’s fingers dip between her folds just enough to tease, and she felt her vampire smirking in amusement against her neck. Fallon knew she was already drenched with arousal– she had been since the moment she walked into the dining room and saw them standing there, dressed in their finest. “My, my, you have been thinking about this,” Astarion hummed, nipping gently at her shoulder with his teeth. 
The hand that occupied her breast moved away, and Fallon almost made a noise in protest until she realized what Astarion was doing: He’d taken Gale’s hand from under her chin and guided it south to join Astarion’s other hand at the apex of her thighs. “Feel how ready she is for us and we’ve hardly done anything.” Astarion praised, replacing his hand with Gale’s. Gale pulled away from their kiss just far enough to look at Fallon, brushing their noses together as he silently asked for her permission before going further, and Fallon gave him the slightest nod of her head in return before kissing him again.  
Fallon shuddered, moaning at the contact as Gale teased her further than Astarion had, pressing two fingers inside of her experimentally and brushed his thumb over her swollen clit. Gale smiled against Fallon’s lips. “I’ve missed that sound,” He admitted, shallowly thrusting his fingers inside of Fallon before pulling them out and stepping back from her entirely. Gale raised his fingers to his mouth, covered in the evidence of her arousal, and licked them obscenely. “I missed that, too.”  Gale added, and Fallon realized Gale was not making eye contact with her as he did this, but with Astarion. Oh how she wished Astarion was not standing behind her, because she would have loved to see his reaction.
While she might not have seen the look on Astarion’s face as Gale taunted them both, Fallon felt Astarion’s cock begin hardening against her back and when Astarion turned Fallon back to face him, she saw the way his red eyes flared with need before he pressed his lips to hers in a heated kiss. The vampire’s hands roamed over her back and over her ass, giving it a firm squeeze before ending their descent at the back of her thighs so he could hoist Fallon into the air. Fallon instinctively did a little jump and wrapped her legs around Astarion’s middle, though she did not stay there for long. Astarion only carried her far enough to climb onto the bed and drop her in the middle of it. Fallon reached forward and started unbuttoning the buttons on Astarion’s shirt, desperate for skin on skin contact that he currently could not provide. “You have too many clothes on. The both of you.” Fallon complained, and Astarion tutted as he sat back on his knees between her legs. 
“Patience, darling. I love your enthusiasm, tonight is about you. We’re going to take care of you, and if you want to take care of us , then you’ll need to be a good girl and wait.” Astarion instructed firmly, and Fallon whined.
“At least take your damn shirts off, I’m completely naked!” Fallon pouted.
“Your sandals are still on.” Gale pointed out with a smirk, nodding to the gold shoes and the laces that ran up her calves, and Fallon glared at him playfully. “Though I supposed we could oblige– both in removing your sandals and some of our own clothing, if that is what the lady wishes.”
Fallon nodded her head furiously and Gale chuckled as he began unbuttoning his shirt. The offending clothing hung loosely on his body as he joined Astarion and Fallon on bed, taking a seat about halfway up Fallon’s body. The scar from The Netherese orb remained on his chest, and Fallon reached forward to trace it with her fingers. Gale took her hand in his and kissed her fingertips tenderly and held her hand over his heart for a moment, the soft look in his eyes conveying everything he felt. Astarion had removed his shirt as well and instead of tossing it to the side, he passed it to Gale with a devious look on his face. She looked back and forth between Astarion and Gale, trying to figure out what sinful trap she’d just fallen into. 
The soft look on Gale’s face had been replaced with one of desire as he reached for Fallon’s other hand. “Scoot back, and put your arms above your head, sweetheart, since we all know you can’t be trusted to keep your hands to yourself and just enjoy this.” Gale teased, and Fallon’s mouth dropped open as she realized what was happening. Fallon did as she was told, and watched with wide eyes as Gale tied one of the sleeves of Astarion’s shirt to her left wrist, and tied the other sleeve to the nearest post on the bed. Now Fallon understood why he told her to scoot back– it was to close some of the space between where she lay and the edges of the bed. Still, on such a large bed, the fabric of Astarion’s shirt was pulled fairly tight without much give. 
“Is that uncomfortable, darling?” Astarion asked lovingly, and Fallon gave an experimental tug. The fabric was soft and Gale had done a good job of not tying the knot around her wrist too tightly, so she shook her head. Once Gale and Astarion were satisfied that Fallon was not uncomfortable, Gale walked around to the other side of the bed, removing his own shirt, and using it to restrain Fallon’s right side, repeating the motions of tying one sleeve around Fallon’s wrist and tying the other to the bedpost, while Astarion unlaced her sandals and removed them from her feet. Once Fallon was secure, Gale returned to his spot on the bed at Fallon’s torso and he propped himself up on his elbow to lay on his side beside her. 
“No mage hand?” Fallon teased, sticking her tongue out at Gale, and the sorcerer chuckled. It was one of his favorite spells to use in the bedroom, if her memory served her correctly. 
“Not tonight, sweetheart. I would much prefer to use all my concentration on making you forget everything but our names.” Gale had the audacity to wink at her as he teased, and Fallon's eyes blew wide with lust. 
Gale reached forward to brush a stray hair from Fallon’s face, dragging his fingers down to her neck and lightly wrapping his hand around it. The pressure was so light that it was barely there, but just the feeling of Gale’s hand there was enough to make Fallon whimper with pleasure and Gale grinned. “You look so beautiful laid out like this, Fallon,” Astarion praised her as he ran his hands over her thighs, spreading her legs apart further as he leaned shifted his position to settle between them on his stomach, and he kissed her inner thighs slowly, avoiding where Fallon desired him to be most. “I’ve been imagining this moment for days.” His nose ghosted over her clit and Fallon let out a noise of protest as he moved away from the sensitive spot. 
“Use your words, sweetheart, tell us what you want.” Gale instructed, his thumb stroking the column of her neck gently, applying light pressure to his grasp as he did so. 
“For the love of Ao, if one of you doesn’t touch me soon I’m going to go insane.” Fallon demanded, invoking the name of the holy creator in vain desperation.
“That’s more like it.” Astarion cooed. Pleasure shot through Fallon’s body as Astarion’s tongue found her center, lavishing her with languid strokes of his tongue. Fallon arched her back at his touch, tugging on her restraints. She opened her mouth to let out a cry of pleasure, but the sound was muffled by Gale’s mouth on hers again, kissing her fiercely as his hand played with her breasts. Every touch, every kiss, it was all heightened by the fact that there were two people showering her body with attention. Every time her body was finished reacting to something Astarion did between her legs, Gale would roll his thumb over one of her nipples and leave love-bites on her neck and she’d be moaning all over again. Though Fallon had no concept of time in that moment, she was certain that this would be the fastest orgasm she’s ever achieved in her life. “That’s it, darling, let go.” Astarion lifted his head to look at her as he slid two fingers inside of her and kissed her inner thigh, nipping at it softly. When Fallon moaned at the sensation of Astarions teeth scraping her inner thigh, his fingers suddenly slowed significantly inside of her.
“ Astarion ,” Fallon whined impatiently, and Gale looked up from her neck to see what was going on. “ Please .” 
“Sorry, love, I was just thinking.” Astarion apologized with a smirk. 
“Can you think later? ” Fallon huffed. 
Astarion laughed and leaned down to press another kiss to her inner thigh. “Darling, can I bite you?” He kissed her thigh again. “Right here?”
Fallon’s heart rate doubled. “You can do whatever you want as long as you don’t stop .” She demanded, lifting her hips towards Astarion’s face in encouragement. 
To her dismay, Astarion laughed again, but at least he kept his fingers moving inside of her as he looked at Gale. “Gale, darling, I’ve got an idea, but I’ll need your assistance.” Fallon looked up at Gale and saw the look of realization dawning on the sorcerer’s face as whatever idea Astarion had clicked in Gale’s mind, and the sorcerer offered the vampire a wicked grin in response. 
“You’re a bloody menace, Astarion. A beautiful, bloody menace.” Gale praised with a laugh. So far, the only drawback of this arrangement was that it gave Gale and Astarion this opportunity to work together to torture her in this way. Soon, Gale was moving away from Fallon and she made another noise of protest, tugging at her restraints to try and get him to come back. 
Then she realized where Gale was going. He joined Astarion at the foot of the bed. “May I?” He asked Fallon, and she nodded, grateful for Gale’s continued initiative in obtaining her consent after their earlier conversation. She was also grateful for Astarion, who she knew would immediately pivot if Fallon told Gale “no” at any point. Fallon nodded her head, and for a moment, she had two of Astarion’s and two of Gale’s fingers inside of her and Fallon moaned appreciatively at the way they filled her. “Well that’s something we’ll have to explore later.” Astarion mused as he removed his fingers from her sex. Fallon watched with curiosity as Astarion got out of Gale’s way, allowing the sorcerer to take his place between Fallon’s legs. There wasn’t quite enough room for them both to fit comfortably, so how– oh. 
Oh . 
Fallon watched in stunned silence as Astarion repositioned himself so he was straddling Gale’s back, hovering over the sorcerer with his cock visibly stiff in his pants, and Fallon’s imagination immediately drifted to what this scene would look like if Gale and Astarion were also naked. The idea of Astarion leaning over Gale’s body to kiss her while he fucked Gale, while Gale feasted on her cunt, the three of them all moaning together…Fallon only snapped out of her thoughts when Astarion leaned forward and brushed some of Gale’s hair from his face, tying it back into a half up-half down bun with a rubber band Gale handed him. Astarion then leaned forward and kissed Gale’s cheek. “Go on, love,” Astarion encouraged in a low voice against the sorcerer's ear before gently biting Gale’s earlobe. “You were just saying how you’ve missed the way she tastes. Now’s your chance.” Gale looked at Fallon once more, giving her a beat to change her mind. Little did he know that with how close cumming she currently was, there was absolutely no way she was changing her mind. Not as her mind took the opportunity to remind her that one of Gale’s favorite camp pastimes used to be burying his face between her legs while she tried not to moan so loud she woke up the rest of their companions (her attempts were not successful very often). 
When Fallon didn’t protest, Gale moaned slightly as he lowered his mouth to her swollen clit, rolling his tongue over the bud thoroughly for the first time in over two years. Carnal lust took over, and Gale immediately became a feral animal who’d just been offered a proper supper for the first time after only having had scraps from the trash bin: he couldn’t bring himself to savor it after starving for so long. Gale moaned and it vibrated against Fallon’s body, and she wished that she could reach out and grip his head to bring his face as close to her as possible, if only for something to hold on to. Gale certainly didn’t need any encouragement to keep going– for this was not the slow, methodical, draw-out-her-orgasm-so-slow-she-might-burst-into-tears version of Gale that she’d often laid with on a bedroll that was absolutely not big enough for two. This Gale lapped at her clit with his tongue and fucked her with his fingers so thoroughly, curving them inside of her with each thrust inward. 
Fallon’s head fell back on the bed as she cried out in pleasure at the attention being returned to her body. When she opened her eyes, she saw Astarion watching the scene before him carefully, his eyes darkened with carnal lust as he watched the way Gale devoured Fallon’s cunt, and the way she reacted to it. Fallon saw Astarion’s hand twitch at his side, like he was considering stuffing it in his pants to touch himself, but he held back. Likely because he knew there would be something better if he could wait a little longer. Astarion reached for Fallon’s leg, and brought it over Gale’s shoulder, the new angle allowing Gale’s fingers to go deliciously deeper inside of her. Fallon moaned again and her legs quaked as the orgasm Astarion previously robbed her of came careening back down the tracks at breakneck speed.
“Astarion, if you’re waiting for–” Fallon started to tease Astarion for taking his time, but the fact that she could still speak only spurned Gale forward and he doubled down on his efforts, eager to leave her breathless. Despite her warning, Astarion still took his time. He held Fallon’s leg up and brought his lips to the inside of her ankle, leaving a tender kiss. He moved next to her calf, then the inside of her knee, slowly working his way to her thigh. He knew Fallon too well– the second he bit her, she was probably going to cum, and Fallon scowled at him when he looked up at her while his lips grazed her skin.
Astarion found the spot on her inner thigh he was looking for, and he bit down. Within seconds of the sharp pain of Astarion’s fangs breaking her skin, Fallon moaned so loudly it echoed off the walls of the tower. Fallon felt her orgasm coat Gale’s fingers, mouth, beard, and the sheets beneath them as she climaxed, strength of it causing her to writhe with pleasure so strongly that Astarion and Gale had to actively use their free arms to hold her in place. Neither of them pulled away until they were certain her high had come to an end, and as Fallon struggled against her restraints try and prop herself up on her elbows (and failing) she looked at Astarion and Gale with a wild look in her eyes, and she was certain she’d never seen either of them look as pleased with themselves as they did in that moment. 
Astarion swiped the blood slowly trickling down her leg with his finger, licking it clean as he climbed off of Gale so the other man could sit up. “Did you know you could do that?” Astarion asked curiously with a grin, observing the absolute mess Fallon made on the sheets. It was certainly messier than any orgasm Fallon had had before, with either of the men sitting between her spread legs, and she shook her head. “It’s amazing what happens when the two of you work together. Who knew?” She teased, winking at them.
“I don’t think we’ve properly satisfied her, Astarion. She can still form coherent sentences.” Gale looked at Astarion with a devious grin, his face still coated with her slick, as he reached between Fallon’s legs and brushed his thumb across her over-stimulated clit. Fallon whimpered, her body shaking slightly in response and she tugged fruitlessly at her restraints again. 
“So it seems. We should do something about that.” Astarion agreed. 
“I want you to fuck me,” Fallon blurted out and their heads snapped back to her, nudging Astarion with her foot so they who she was referring to. Then she looked at Gale. “I want him to fuck me, and I want you to watch.”
“Would you like that, darling?” Astarion asked as he stared at Fallon, his voice almost giddy with anticipation at the idea.
Fallon nodded her head. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since Gale told me he overheard us at the inn in Daggerford.” 
Astarion looked at Gale in surprise. “Did you, now?”
Gale swallowed, nodding his head as he reached down to adjust his cock inside of his pants, clearly straining uncomfortably against the fabric. “Truth be told, I’ve also been thinking about it since I overheard you.” He admitted with a breathy laugh.
“Take off your pants, and come sit by me, Gale. Untie me while you’re at it,” Fallon requested, her tone was a little more desperate than she would have liked, but part of her was still remembering how to breathe after the explosive orgasm she’d just had, so all decorum had gone out the window.
Gale did as he was told, untying her first before fidgeting with the laces on his pants and pushing them down to his ankles, kicking them off as he went. His thick cock sprung free and Fallon’s mouth watered . She’d forgotten how nice Gale’s dick was, and she immediately wanted to throw her own plan away and put his dick in her mouth. That was for another day, though. Astarion removed his own pants and climbed up the bed towards Fallon. As soon as Astarion’s dick was within reach, Fallon wrapped her hand around his shaft and began pumping her hand along it dutifully with a satisfied grin on her face at being able to use her hands again. Astarion’s head dropped down onto her shoulder as he shuddered and moaned, at her touch. His mouth temporarily found her neck before reaching her mouth and kissing her passionately.
“On your knees, darling.” Astarion muttered assertively against Fallon’s lips and she moaned softly, fully understanding what her vampire intended to do. Fallon kissed Astarion once more before releasing his cock from her grasp and rolling over onto her stomach. Fallon made direct eye contact with Gale as she positioned herself on her hands and knees, spreading her legs so Astarion could insert himself between them. Gale’s hand was already loosely wrapped around his stiff cock, stroking it idly as he watched the scene before him unfold with wide eyes. Fallon could feel the mattress shifting beneath her as Astarion settled behind her, and soon she felt two fingers slide inside of her, eliciting a moan from both Fallon and Gale. 
“Astarion, I need you.” Fallon whined, and she heard the vampire laugh lightly from behind her as he fingered her slowly. Deeply. It felt good, but it wasn’t enough. She needed Astarion to fill her more than she needed air in her lungs.  
“I was just making sure you’re prepared, my love.” He teased, and Fallon shook her head. 
“I’m always prepared, now please , just fuck me .” Fallon pressed her hips back towards Astarion encouragingly.
Astarion laughed again, but did as he was told and removed his fingers from within her. “She’s a needy little thing, isn’t she? So eager to have a cock deep inside of her.” He mused, addressing Gale, and the sorcerer nodded.
“Yes, I do recall that about her,” Gale agreed, a smug smirk on his face and Fallon pouted. “Give her what she wants, Astarion. She did ask rather nicely.”
Fallon huffed in response and she felt Astarion positioning his cock at her entrance, his head just barely brushing it teasingly. “Show us exactly how you touched yourself when you were eavesdropping, and I’ll show you exactly how I fucked her.”
Gale’s grip on his cock tightened as he began to stroke himself, and all three of them moaned as Astarion finally slid home, pushing himself deep inside of Fallon until he was buried to the hilt. Thankfully, Astarion’s patience had run out, and he didn’t make Fallon wait before beginning to thrust into her with a steady rhythm. Though his broad hands rested on her hips as an anchor, his grip was not so tight that Fallon could not move, and soon she was rocking her hips back and forth, meeting Astarion thrust for thrust so he fucked her even deeper than before. The moans leaving her mouth were endless as Astarion moved inside of her, and though Fallon wanted to close her eyes and just enjoy the pleasure, she forced herself to keep them open so she could watch Gale. 
The sorcerer’s eyelids were heavy as he watched the two of them, and Fallon noticed that he was stroking his thick cock in time with Astarions thrusts as the vampire fucked her. Gale’s body  had relaxed a bit more as well, his free arm resting lightly on his stomach as he leaned back against the many pillows, his legs spread a little further apart. Just far enough apart that if Astarion and Fallon were a foot closer to Gale, she could easily lean forward and wrap her mouth around Gale’s cock and suck him off while Astarion fucked her. It was certainly an idea, one she had every intention of exploring at a later time, but right now? This was exactly what she wanted. 
“Like what you see, sorcerer?” Astarion goaded as he reached forward to wrap his fingers through Fallon’s unbound dark hair and pull her upwards by it to kiss her neck. The delicious new angle had Fallon moaning loudly, and she reached between her legs to caress her aching clit now that her hands were free. Fallon turned her head as far as she could and nudged the side of Astarion’s face with her nose encouraging him to kiss her. Astarion obliged, kissing her fiercely as he began to fuck her harder.
“Gods, you’re beautiful .” Gale moaned as he began pumping his cock faster, and Fallon honestly was not sure if he was referring to her, Astarion, or the both of them together. Either way, Gale’s voice was absolutely wrecked, and when Fallon pulled out of her kiss with Astarion to look at Gale, she could see the pre-cum dribbling down the head of his cock. It was obvious Gale was close, Fallon knew she was close, and if the frantic way his hips were moving was any indication, Astarion was close, too. 
Astarion’s hand covered Fallon’s at the apex of her thighs and he pushed her hand away, his deft fingers taking over atop Fallon’s clit where she’d left off, and her body shook as she reached back behind her to card her fingers through Astarion’s curls. He planted a kiss on her shoulder. “That’s it, darling, show Gale how pretty you are when you cum for me.”
Fallon locked eyes with Gale. The sorcerer was biting down on his lip, hard, and the way he whimpered when Fallon looked at him with desperation could only mean one thing: Gale was trying to wait for Fallon to orgasm first, before allowing himself to climax, and his restraint was greatly waning. “ Please .” He managed to choke out, and that was all it took to send Fallon careening over the edge as she came with both Astarion and Gale’s names on her tongue as her body shuddered. Within seconds of the start of Fallon’s peak, Fallon and Astarion were treated to the sight of Gale cumming in his hand so violently that the long ribbons of semen burst from his cock with enough force to land on Gale’s chest, and a few drops even made their way to Gale’s beard. That was enough for Astarion, and the vampire found his own completion with the shout of an expletive, almost as though the intensity of his orgasm took him by surprise. 
When they were all spent and panting, it was only then that Fallon eased herself off of Astarion’s cock and crawled up the bed towards Gale. Though she had every intention of licking the spunk right off of his body to clean Gale off, the sorcerer was one step ahead of her and with a wave of his hand, the mess disappeared. Fallon smirked as she settled onto the bed beside Gale, resting her head on the pillow next to him. “Neat trick.” She teased. Gale only chuckled in response before leaning forward to press a kiss to the crown of Fallon’s head and turn on his side to wrap an arm around her. 
Astarion followed behind Fallon and took the spot on the other side of her, and a giddy smile spread on her face as the vampire wrapped his arm around her as he kissed her shoulder. “I think it’s safe to say you’ve properly atoned.” Fallon teased them both as she grabbed both of their arms and pulled them closer to her. Gale and Astarion happily obliged, moving inward until there was very little space separating the three of them at all.
“Thank you both for this whole day,” She turned her head towards Astarion and kissed him deeply. “I’m a very lucky woman to be so loved by two wonderful people.” She turned her head to Gale next and kissed him with an equal amount of emotion. 
“Please, we’re the lucky ones.” Astarion scoffed. 
“I have to agree–not many people would offer us the level of grace and forgiveness you’ve provided us with, despite everything. Though I don’t think I can call you a saint, unless you feel like devoting yourself to Sune, because she might be the only deity that would call what just occurred in this bedroom holy –”
“Hey, I’m not the only person in this bed to blame for that!” Fallon laughed, pouting playfully. 
“But if I were ever asked to nominate someone for a holy title, you would be the first person to come to mind. May we never give you a reason to need to extend such grace and forgiveness a second time.” Gale smiled at her sincerely, and Fallon felt a wave of emotion rush through her. 
For the first time in two years, laying between her vampire and her sorcerer, she felt completely whole.
Chapter List
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weird-and-unwell · 3 months
Text
“Autism isn’t a disability”, “it’s just a difference”.
I am of lower support needs. I hold down a (part time) job. I have travelled around my home country. I live alone.
At work they complain about my speech. I’m too quiet, they say, “barely audible” is the words used at my autism assessment. My voice is all monotone, and it needs to be more expressive. I get this complaint every week for a year straight, until my manager gives up. I don’t attend trainings because I forget and find it overwhelming anyways. My coworkers form friendships, and I watch them talk, wondering how they make it look so easy. I get a new manager, I tell her I find the work socials too overwhelming to attend. She tells me I can just say I don’t want to come. I don’t know how to tell her that I desperately want to, to be like the rest of my coworkers, instead of constantly being the one sat on the sidelines.
I come home, and I can hear my neighbours again. The niggling background noise messes with my head, and I meltdown; I throw myself on the floor, I hit my head on the ground repeatedly as I scream and cry, tear out my hair and scratch my arms and face. When I complain, people tell me that I just have to accept that neighbours make noise, that I should just ignore it, or block it out. I am the problem, the one overreacting. I put in earplugs and it hurts and I'm crying again. I wear headphones but I can't handle the noise for that long.
I have reminders set for everything. Every chore, no matter how big or small. My phone beeps at me, reminding me that I need to wash the dishes. If I don't go now, then tick the little box on my phone to say I did it, it won't get done. My home is almost always a mess despite this. It's not just chores either. I won't think to wash, dress myself, brush my teeth or hair, without those reminders. And unless someone actively prompts me to do so, I will do those tasks "wrong". I haven't changed my underwear in a month, and I'm currently aware that's a problem, but within the hour I'm going to forget all over again until I'm next prompted.
I can't sleep without medication - it's not unusual for autistic people to have messed up circadian rhythms. Without my medication it's hard to even tell when I'm awake and when I'm asleep. When I was younger and at school I slept through so many lessons, and when I have my mandatory breaks from my sleep meds I sleep through every alarm I set. I want to work full time some day, and I'm terrified of what my sleep issue will mean for me then.
I don't travel independently. I don't travel anywhere alone, always with someone or to someone. If to someone, I have assistance the whole way. I find it embarrassing sometimes. Yes, I have a job that requires a certain level of intelligence. No, I cannot get on a train by myself. If I am not shown To The Train, To My Seat, I will be unable to travel.
Last time I travelled, I was left alone at the station for ten minutes. I stayed rigid and sobbed the whole time. I was overwhelmed. It was too loud, I didn't know where I was or where I was meant to be going, and until the assistance person came back I couldn't do anything because for some reason I cannot understand it.
I spend a lot of time trying to explain to people that despite my relative competence, I am unable to do many things. Why can I understand high level maths but not how to get on a damn train? No fucking idea.
"Autism isn't a disability" most severely affects those with higher support needs, and this is absolutely not to take away from them. But for fucks sake, autism is disabling.
Maybe you personally are extremely lucky and just find you're a little "socially awkward", or just find some textures painful or nauseating. Maybe you would be fine with just a couple of adjustments.
But for a lot of us, even lower support needs autistics, it doesn't work like that. I will never sleep properly without medication. I still have the self-harming type of meltdowns as an adult, over things that are deemed as being "just part of life". I live alone but have daily visits from family - if I'm left fully alone I forget all the little daily things one is "meant" to do. I had speech therapy as a child to get me to the "barely audible" "mostly correct" speech. I don't mask, I'm not really sure how I would to begin with.
I'm not unhappy with being autistic. It's just who I am. Life would be easier if I were neurotypical, but I also wouldn't be me. I just wish those luckier than me could...stop saying it's all chill and not at all a disability.
Because yes, socially, I am "awkward". I obviously don't make eye contact - I stare down and to the side of whoever I speak to. People think it's weird or creepy or a sign of disinterest. My autism assessor wrote down about how I often use words and phrases that don't make sense to others, even though they make perfect sense to me. In my daily life this means I'm frequently misunderstood, and have to try explain what I mean, when what I mean is exactly what I said, and the true issue is that what I mean just doesn't make sense to others. I gesture, at times, but again, my gestures apparently don't make sense in relation to what I'm saying. I take things literally, I have almost no filter, and I can't explain how I go from topic to topic.
And yes, I do have sensory problems. Sometimes people, including others with sensory problems, tell me that "sometimes sensory issues have to be tolerated", and I wonder what they think of as being sensory issues. I'm sure they do struggle, but if I say I can't handle a touch, I mean you will need to forcefully hold it against me for me to touch it more than a second and it will make me meltdown. If I say "I can't eat that", I mean that I am unable to swallow it, that I will gag and choke and inevitably spit it back out, as much as I try. If I say I can't handle a noise, I mean I'm so close to a meltdown and my meltdowns are a problem for everyone around me.
But yes. Autism. Not a disability. Just a fun quirky difference.
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mariclerc · 2 months
Text
Little miracle ♡ | cl16
Summary: You and Charles have been together for years and have always talked about starting a family.
Warning: none, just fluff.
a/n: It's a little long, but I hope you like it as much as I did !!
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The afternoon sun streams through the living room window, casting warm light across the plush couch where you lie curled up. A magazine lays forgotten on your chest, your brow furrowed in concentration. You take a deep breath, wincing slightly. The dull ache in your lower abdomen has been there for a few days now, and you can't help but wonder...
With a sigh, you push yourself up and head to the bathroom. You open the cabinet and reach for the lone pregnancy test tucked discreetly in the back corner. It's been there for months but only in case of emergencies, a silent reminder of what could be, a possibility you both discussed but never truly dared to hope for.
Your hands tremble slightly as you follow the instructions, the silence of the apartment amplifying your racing thoughts. What if it's positive? How will Charles react? Excitement? Fear? Uncertainty? The image of his bright smile flashes in your mind, but it's quickly overshadowed by a wave of apprehension. After a couple of minutes the alarm sounds and with great care and trembling hands, you review the test...
Two pink lines: positive. A wave of different emotions takes over you, you are very afraid and at the same time hope that perhaps this has not gone as planned, but it's something incredible, a small miracle growing inside you.
After a couple of hours, the scent of Charles' cologne fills the air as he bursts through the door, his usual infectious energy bouncing off the walls. He throws his bag on a hanger, his eyes scanning the room until they land on you.
“Hey bellissima! How was your day?” He says while having a grin on his face.
You manage a small smile, forcing yourself to appear relaxed. “Good, just relaxing. You seem in a good mood today!”
“Just had a great afternoon with the team, preparing some things in the simulator... So, what's for dinner? You know I'm starving!” He said while chuckling.
You lead him to the kitchen, the aroma of your carefully prepared pasta filling the air. As you set the table, you steal glances at him, his animated chatter a stark contrast to your swirling emotions.
“Hey, is everything okay baby? You seem a bit...different.” He asks as he notices your quietness.
You hesitate, then decide to plant the first seed.
“Actually, there is something I need to tell you. But I think it's better if we wait until after dinner.”
His smile falters slightly, replaced by a furrowed brow.
“Is everything alright? Is it something serious?”
“Don't worry, it's nothing bad. Just...something we need to talk about.” You said while taking his hand.
He squeezes your hand reassuringly, the worry lingering in his eyes. Dinner passes in a blur of polite conversation and stolen glances. With dessert cleared away, you both settle onto the couch, the weight of your unspoken secret hanging heavy in the air.
”Charles, remember that talk we had a few months ago? About...you know...” You take a deep breath.
He nods slowly, his gaze intense and understanding. “Of course darling.”
“Well, there's a chance...a big possibility...that things might have changed.”
His eyes widen, a flicker of hope battling with trepidation.
“You mean...?”
“I took a test. And...it's positive.” You whisper while you show the test to him.
The silence that follows is deafening. You watch Charles' face, searching for any hint of his reaction. His initial surprise gives way to a slow smile, spreading across his features like sunrise.
“Oh my god, baby! Oh my baby...” He said with his voice thick with emotion.
He pulls you into a tight embrace, burying his face in your hair. You can feel his body trembling, his laughter mixed with choked sobs.
“This is incredible! We're going to have a baby!”
Relief washes over you, warm and sweet. The fear that had been gnawing at you melts away, replaced by a surge of joy and anticipation. You cling to him, both of you lost in the wonder of this new chapter.
As you pull back, Charles cups your face, his eyes shining with love and excitement.
“This is the best news ever! I can't wait to be a dad! We're going to be amazing parents!”
You nod, a smile blooming on your face. The future, once uncertain, now stretches before you, filled with promise and the beautiful mess of creating a family together.
As you pull away from the embrace, the weight of reality settles in. While you're both ecstatic about the news, a wave of anxieties washes over you. You take a deep breath and voice your concerns.
“Charles, I'm happy, truly. But...there's a lot to think about. Parenthood is a big change, and I can't help but worry about how it will affect everything.” You say a little shy.
He takes your hand, his gaze warm and understanding. “I know, amore. It's natural to feel nervous. But tell me, what's on your mind?”
“Well, there's my career. Taking time off for the baby, especially with your career in the spotlight, feels daunting.”
“We'll figure it out together, like we always do. You're incredibly talented, and I know you'll find a way to balance motherhood with your dreams.” He squeezes your hand.
He pulls you closer, resting his forehead against yours.
“It's not just that, you know? It's the fear of the unknown. Being a parent is a huge responsibility, and I'm scared I won't be good enough.” You sigh.
He leans back, holding you at arm's length, his eyes searching yours.
“Hey, you'll be the most amazing mother. You're kind, compassionate, and have so much love to give. You'll be incredible, just like you are with everything else you do.”
A tear escapes your eye, and he brushes it away with a gentle thumb.
“We'll learn together, step by step. And we'll have each other, always. This is a journey we're going on together, as a team.”
His words soothe your anxieties, but a flicker of worry lingers.
“What about your racing? The media, the pressure, the fans...will this change things?”
He contemplates for a moment, then smiles reassuringly. “It will change things, of course, but not in a bad way. It'll give me something even more to fight for, even more to achieve. I'll be racing for our family, for our future together.”
His confidence reignites your own. You both share a laugh, the nervous tension easing.
“Now darling imagine our little Leclerc cheering me on from the stands!” He said with a smile on his face.
The image brings a joyful warmth to your chest. You lean in, sharing a kiss filled with hope and excitement for the unknown adventure ahead.
****
ynusername
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liked by carmenmmundt, f1, kellypiquet and others.
ynusername something's in the way 🫣
tagged charles_leclerc
lilymhe omg!!! Congrats babes 🥹🥹
ynusername 🥹🥹🥹🩷 thank u sm bby
user1 mY PARENTS ARE GOING TO BE PARENTS?!?!#?! OH GOD 🥺😭😭
landonorris so... That explains why you threw up the cookies I sent to you both last week...
ynusername can you get over the cookies did I threw up last week? Thanks ☺️
charles_leclerc lando those cookies were horrible, I even threw up them too. 🤷🏻‍♂️🤷🏻‍♂️
landonorris I didn't need to know that, but thanks for clarifying that my cooking skills suck.
charles_leclerc you are welcome bro 🫂
scuderiaferrari do we already have the future champion on the way? 👀❤️❤️
ynusername yup team!!
user2 oh my goodness, congrats to the best paddock couple 🤍🤍
charles_leclerc I love you my future baby mama 💗
ynusername I love you too papa to be!! 🥺🩷
user3 okay but they are using pink emojis, they defo know something WE DON'T OH GOD
Days turn into weeks, and your apartment becomes a haven of anticipation. You pick out tiny baby clothes, decorate the nursery with love, and lose yourselves in the joy of choosing names. Charles, usually focused on his racing career, surprises you with his attentiveness, researching baby gear, learning about childbirth, and excitedly planning for paternity leave.
For your part, breaking the news to your parents was not exactly what you expected or had in mind. They took the news in a very bad and ugly way, which made you feel hurt, since you thought they weren't going to take it that way. The disapproval still lingers, but it no longer holds power over you. You share your happiness with friends and Charles' family who offer genuine support and celebrate with you.
You and Charles create a photo album documenting your pregnancy journey, filled with silly selfies, ultrasound pictures, and heartfelt notes to your future child.
One evening, as you relax on the couch, Charles pulls out the photo album.
“Look at how far we've come amour!” He says, his voice filled with pride. “We may not have everyone's blessing, but we have each other, and that's all that matters.”
You nod, tears welling up in your eyes. You turn to him, your heart overflowing with love and gratitude.
“We do, amore. And we'll be amazing parents, together!”
He kisses you softly, the promise of a future filled with love and laughter hanging in the air. The disapproval from your parents may remain, but it fades into insignificance compared to the radiant joy you and Charles share.
****
charles_leclerc
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liked by domi.nahmias, ynbff, georgerussell63 and others.
charles_leclerc baby mama is looking fine as always 😍😍 I love you so so much and our little one 💗💗
tagged ynusername
ynusername oh my babyyyyyy 🥺😭😭 I told you I looked so awful in that pic :(
charles_leclerc nonsense! You're looking gorgeous each day chérie ;)
ynusername okay!!! If u say so 🥹🥹
landonorris you're simping over a baby? Iugh 🤢
pierregasly lando stfu please 🙄🙄
ynusername thank you uncle Pierre 🙏🏻
arthur_leclerc UNCLE PIERRE? WTF ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT‼️‼️‼️
lorenzotl I hope this is a joke
charles_leclerc oh god, guys get out of my comment section please
leclerc_pascale Je vous aime tellement, je suis si heureuse pour vous mes enfants 💗💗 (I love you so much, I am so happy for you my children)
ynusername Aww, merci maman 😭🥹🩷🩷 (aww, thank you mom)
charles_leclerc Merci maman!! nous t'aimons aussi 🩷🩷 (thank you mom!! we love you too)
user4 NOT THE PINK HEARTS AGAIN, THEY KNOW SOMETHING‼️‼️‼️‼️
ynbff I want to be the cool aunt okay sir?! 🫵🏻🫵🏻
charles_leclerc noted 📝
ynusername
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liked by lilymhe, ruthbuscombe, lewishamilton and others.
ynusername we can't wait to meet you little Mills 💗💗💗 your papa and I are so excited to hold in our arms and love you unconditionally 🥹🥹 📸 by the one and only charles_leclerc
tagged charles_leclerc
kellypiquet oh my god 🥺🥺🥺
georgerussell63 now we know who to spoil in the paddock
logansargeant the official F1 baby
danielricciardo the official F1 mascot
charles_leclerc I don't want my baby to wear merch from all the teams above and below.
ynusername you know that she would be sticking to Ferrari, right guys??? 👀👀
charles_leclerc our little miracle is so loved 🩷🩷🥹 I love you so much chérie, thank you for giving me the best gift of all 🩷🩷🩷
ynusername ohhh baby, you're making me cry 😭😭, I love too babe!! I promise to be the best mama and girlfriend I can be🥹 I promise!!
charles_leclerc babe, you already are the best mama and wife our little girl and I could ask for!!🩷🩷
user5 excuse me??? WIFE???!? SIR COULD YOU EXPLAIN????
user4 omg a little girlyclerc, congrats!!! 🥺🥺💗
lewishamilton congrats lovebirds!!!
ynusername thank u lew <3
charles_leclerc thank you mate ❤️
scuderiaferrari we can't wait to see her in a race car. congratulations guys ❤️❤️
oscarpiastri a new little one to spoil with papaya merch
charles_leclerc ABSOLUTELY NOT
Weeks melt into months, your belly growing bigger with each passing day. You and Charles revel in the little miracles of pregnancy: the first flutter of movement, the tiny heartbeat on the ultrasound, the shared excitement of picking out names. Your apartment transforms, adorned with tiny clothes, a miniature crib, and countless teddy bears.
One sunny afternoon, you and Charles are sprawled on the couch, giggling over a particularly stubborn hiccup emanating from your belly.
“Do you think she'll be a fast car fan?” Charles asks, tracing your swollen belly with a finger.
You laugh, “Only if she inherits your love for race cars, but if she wants to be a driver like her papa, we will always support her!”
He smiles innocently, a playful glint in his eyes. “But of course love! We will be her number one fans, her big fans.”
Suddenly, a sharp pain jolts you upright. You gasp, eyes widening. Charles is by your side instantly, his face etched with concern.
”What is it, babe? Are you okay?”
“I think... I think it's time Charles.” You manage, voice shaky with a mix of fear and excitement.
Charles throws on his coat, his movements efficient yet tinged with nervous energy, He quickly looked for a briefcase that they had prepared in recent weeks in case this moment came, which was near the door. “Let's go, amore! It's time to meet our little miracle.”
The hospital is a whirlwind of activity. Nurses bustle around you, checking vitals and offering reassurances. Charles holds your hand, his grip tight yet comforting. He whispers jokes, sings silly songs, and recounts stories about his childhood, distracting you from the growing intensity of the contractions.
Hours later, after pushing with every ounce of your strength, a tiny cry fills the room. A wave of relief washes over you, followed by an overwhelming surge of love. Charles beams, tears glistening in his eyes as he cuts the umbilical cord, welcoming their daughter into the world.
Holding your newborn child in your arms, the world melts away. You and Charles, a team united by love and parenthood, gaze in awe at the perfect little face nestled against your chest. The initial disapproval from your parents feels miles away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of joy and accomplishment.
The nurse bustles around, cleaning your newborn daughter and wrapping her in a warm blanket. You watch, exhausted yet exhilarated, as the tiny form stirs and lets out a sleepy gurgle. Your gaze flickers to Charles, his face alight with a mixture of awe and nervousness.
“Mr. Leclerc.” the nurse says, her voice gentle. “Would you like to hold your daughter first, skin-to-skin?”
Charles' eyes widen. “Me?”
“Absolutely!” the nurse smiles. “It's called kangaroo care. It helps regulate her temperature, breathing, and heart rate, and it promotes bonding between you and her.”
He hesitates briefly, then nods eagerly. ”Of course!”
The nurse carefully places your daughter on his bare chest, her tiny body nestled against his warmth. Charles' eyes well up as he looks down at her, his fingers gently brushing her soft cheek. You watch their silent communion, a wave of love and tenderness washing over you.
“There you go, little one.” Charles whispers, his voice husky with emotion. “Meet your daddy.”
Your daughter seems to respond. She quiets, her eyes fluttering open and meeting his with a gaze that seems impossibly ancient and wise. A faint coo escapes her.
Charles laughs, a joyous sound that fills the room. “You see chérie? Millie loves me already!”
You chuckle, your heart brimming with joy. The initial fear and doubt Charles harbored about fatherhood seem to melt away, replaced by a raw, instinctive protectiveness. He holds his daughter close, rocking her gently, his eyes filled with an unspoken promise to love and cherish her always.
Millie, still slightly pink and whimpering, nuzzles closer to the warmth of his skin. He cradles her awkwardly at first, then instinct seems to take over. He holds her with a tenderness that belies his usual energetic persona, stroking her tiny hand with his thumb, whispering soft reassurances in Italian.
You watch the scene unfold, your heart swelling with pride and love. This man, your partner, the one who speeds around racetracks with fearless abandon, now holds your daughter with such delicate care, such profound reverence. It's a side of him you haven't witnessed before, and it's breathtaking.
He looks up at you, his eyes shining with emotion. “Oh my, she's perfect.” he murmurs, his voice thick. “Just like her mama.”
A laugh escapes you, shaky but genuine. Tears well up again, this time tears of pure joy. You reach out, and he carefully transfers your daughter to you, placing her skin-to-skin on your chest. The warmth of her tiny body against yours is instant comfort, a connection unlike any other.
In that moment, everything else fades away. The pain, the exhaustion, the initial anxiety about how Charles would react – all vanish. All that remains is the three of you, an incredible bond forming in the quiet hospital room. This is the start of your journey, a journey filled with challenges and triumphs, but you face it together, a family united by love.
****
The weeks that follow are a whirlwind of sleepless nights, endless diaper changes, and the constant wonder of watching Millie grow and change with each passing day. Charles, true to his word, throws himself into fatherhood with the same passion he brings to racing. He learns to swaddle like a pro, sings lullabies in his surprisingly off-key voice, and develops a sixth sense for anticipating her needs.
The initial challenges you anticipated regarding his racing career never materialize. In fact, having his daughter seems to fuel him further. He dedicates his wins to her, to both of you actually, her tiny name adorning his helmet, and the fans seem to love the image of the champion racer who's also a devoted dad.
Of course, there are bumps along the road. Juggling parenthood with demanding careers takes its toll. Sleep deprivation becomes a constant companion, and arguments erupt over who gets to hold the baby during the rare moments of peace. Yet, through it all, your love for each other and Millie remains the anchor. You learn to compromise, to communicate openly, and to find humor even in the midst of exhaustion.
One evening, as you sit huddled on the couch, nursing Millie to sleep, Charles turns to you, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the lamp.
“Remember when we were worried about how things would change?” he asks, a chuckle in his voice.
You smile, memories of those early anxieties flooding back. “Yeah, we were pretty naive, weren't we?”
He nods, pulling you closer. “Absolutely babe, but now looking at her, I wouldn't trade this chaos for anything in the world.”
You gaze at your daughter, her peaceful breaths filling the silence. “Me neither.” you whisper, leaning your head against his shoulder. “She's our little miracle, our perfect storm.”
He kisses your forehead, his lips warm and tender. “And we're her team, amore. We'll face whatever comes our way, together.”
The weight of his words rests upon you as you watch Millie sleep. A comfortable silence descends, punctuated only by her rhythmic breaths and the soft hum of the nightlight. You feel a surge of pride, not just in Millie, but in the family you've built together.
“Remember when her first smile was just a tiny twitch of her lip?” Charles asks, his voice hushed and reminiscent.
You laugh softly, recalling the hours spent trying to elicit a response, the sheer joy when that tiny smile finally appeared. “And how she cried for an hour straight when we tried to give her a bath for the first time?”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Chaos incarnate, love.” he says, his eyes twinkling with affection. "But wouldn't have it any other way.”
You nod, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Me neither. These sleepless nights, the endless diaper changes, it all feels so insignificant when she looks at us with those big, curious eyes.”
Suddenly, Millie lets out a soft coo, her eyes fluttering open. She fixes them on you, a gummy smile spreading across her face.
“See?” Charles whispers, reaching out to touch her cheek. “Millie knows how much we love her.”
He lifts her gently, cradling her close, and you watch as their daughter nuzzles into his chest. A lump forms in your throat, a mixture of love and gratitude washing over you. You've faced challenges, navigated uncertainties, but the core of your bond has remained strong.
“We're doing alright, aren't we?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper.
He looks at you, his gaze tender. “More than alright, amore. We're building a life, a family. And it's beautiful.”
He leans in, his lips brushing yours in a gentle kiss. In that quiet moment, surrounded by the warmth of your love and the soft breaths of baby Millie sleeping, you know that the journey ahead, though filled with its own challenges, will be an adventure worth taking, hand in hand.
charles_leclerc
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liked by ferraristyle, maxverstappen1, sebastianvettel and others.
charles_leclerc mama and little millie 🩷🩷🩷 oh ma petite fleur, you don't know how happy you have made us with your arrival, you are the prettiest and smallest thing we have ever seen!! I promise to take care and protect you both, because you deserve it 💗💗 ynusername you have made me the happiest man in the world, thank you so much my baby love 💗💗
tagged ynusername
ynusername you will definitely make me cry 😭😭🥺 Oh love, it's nothing, she has a little piece of both and that makes her perfect 💗💗💗
charles_leclerc okay now I'm the one who's going to cry 😭😭 I just love you my sweet baby
scuderiaferrari welcome to the team Millie 🩷🩷🩷 we're going to spoil you a lot!!
landonorris so... They can spoil her and not the F1 grid?
ynusername yup, it's like this 🤷🏻‍♀️
user3 not her using Charles' quote, she knows
pierregasly aww, she's so pretty 🥺🥺 congrats bro 💗💗
leclerc_pascale aww, ma petite étoile 🩷🩷 (aww, my little star)
ynusername maman!! nous t'aimons tellement, Millie veut te rencontrer 🩷🩷 (mom!! we love you a lot, Millie wants to meet you)
leclerc_pascale Je parie que tu le fais, chérie 🩷🩷 (I bet she does, honey)
user5 oh god, all of them using pink hearts, they are so so cute 🥺🥺💗💗💗
1K notes · View notes
underoossss · 10 months
Text
Head over Heels - S.H
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masterlist
pairing: steve harrington x grumpy!f!reader
summary: Steve falls for Robin’s grumpy friend, and he falls hard.
warnings: family problems mention, trust issues, angst, hurt/comfort, no spoilers, (there’s fluff I promise!!!)
grumpy x sunshine trope
an: I know this is the first Steve fic I’ve posted IN FOREVER and I’m sorry! my writer’s block, personal problems, work and health, have all contributed to how long it took me to finish this. But I promise to make it worth your while, this is the same length as babe baby beautiful and I hope it makes you happy. I dedicate this to all my grumpy beloveds out there, who, like me. don’t relate 100% to the sunshine tropes bc sometimes life just freaking sucks. I poured my heart out with this one so, I hope this comforts you and that you like it! Please let me know. 💘
——-
The September breeze pushes Steve’s hair back as he makes his way to the Hawkin’s start-of-autumn fair, a new thing the town is trying out to make the citizens feel more upbeat after all the incidents they’ve experienced. His friends trail after him, Mike and Lucas arguing over something he doesn’t understand, Max listening to Dusting complain about some prank the soccer team played on the Hellfire Club and Robin walking by his side. Everyone shouts food orders over their shoulder, running towards the picnic tables in search for an empty one, and leaving Steve and Robin alone.
His friend is rambling by his side, and Steve nods along to what she’s telling him. She has a new friend this year, met her at homeroom when she was introduced as a new student. A senior like Robin, she got along with her just fine. I talk a lot and she doesn’t, it’s a good fit, I think she really needed a friend that day, Robin says, and now she’s friends with all of us. Steve hums in understanding, switching schools in senior year sounds awful, and he wonders why you chose to do that. He wouldn’t, unless it was for something serious.
“Anyway here she comes!” Robin says excitedly, waving you over. “I can’t believe she actually came, she’s not comfortable with strangers and she doesn’t know you. I thought she’d sit this one out.”
Steve follows Robin’s line of sight and spots you walking towards them in the distance. Baby blue sweater, light washed jeans and black high-top converse, make you stand out from the orange foliage around you. Your face is serious as you get closer, only breaking into a small smile when you wave at Robin and accept her hug. When you step back your face morphs back to neutrality, a slight furrow to your brow as you hide your hands in your back pockets.
Robin says your name and motions towards Steve. “This is Steve, the friend I told you about.” She explains, “He’s our chauffeur, monster-fighter and designated babysitter.”
Steve furrows his brows and looks sideways at Robin before he looks at you and grins. “Hi, nice to meet you.” He offers his hand and you give it one quick shake before pulling back and looking away. Steve wasn’t expecting that reaction, but he guesses what Robin said is true, you don’t like strangers.
“We’re going to get Apple fritters! They have massive ones here and they serve them with big scoops of ice cream.” Robin tells you, glancing down the line as it moves. There are only three people left to order, so the three of you step into line. “Let me check if they’re still doing the ice cream on top.”
With that, Steve is left to wait next to you until Robin is back. You shift from one leg to another, almost nervously and Steve glances at you. Your eyes meet his and then look away, not scared or nervous, just looking away like you can’t be bothered to make conversation with him. Is he intimidating? Steve asks himself or are you just a massive buzzkill that can’t even comment on the weather.
Steve tries again, scratching his cheek. “So, uh, you’re in senior year like Robin?”
You nod, looking down at your feet before looking at him. “Yeah, we have a lot of classes together. I know the guys over there as well.” Your hand lifts to point at Eddie, who’s just arrived at the table, and the kids talking around him.
Huh, so you do speak, Steve notes, but only when prompted. “Cool.” He nods, looking at your face and noticing the way you look away immediately. “So why did you move to Hawkins all of a sudden? I mean senior year, that’s gotta be rough.”
You press your lips together, looking uncomfortable by the question. Steve has the faint idea that he asked the wrong thing. “I should go say hi to everyone.” You say after an awkward cough. “If there’s ice cream can you tell Robin I’m good with cookie dough?”
Steve wordlessly takes the 5 bucks you hand him and sees you rush away from him. In the distance he can see everyone’s faces light up when they spot you, beckoning you over with excited waves, and your reluctant barely there smile as you greet them and sit down. Steve doesn’t get it; he is half mortified and half confused when Robin comes back. How is it that everyone is your friend when you’re so closed off and Steve doesn’t want to say it but… grumpy.
“Are you sure your friend wants to be here?” Steve asks Robin, looking over at you again. You’re sitting with your elbows leaning on the table, listening to everyone talk around you, neutral expression on your face. Bored, even.
“Of course, she does.” Robin is quick to say. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, she doesn’t look too thrilled to be talking to you.” Steve shrugs.
“You clearly don’t know her.” Robin shakes her head. “What did you do?”
“I only asked her about her move to Hawkins.” Steve holds his hands up defensively, then adds. “She said she likes cookie dough ice cream.”  
They pause their conversation to order the fritters and pay, then continue talking while they wait.
“Okay, you shouldn’t have asked that. First of all.” Robin rolls her eyes, “Second of all, she’s friends with all of us.”
Steve huffs in disbelief. “Oh so she likes you? That’s her I like you face.”
“She adores us, you… not really but that’s cause she doesn’t know you.” Robin nods with certainty, then worries her bottom lip. “The move question is just tricky for her.”
Steve moves to say something when their order is called, and she go back to the booth to take the trays laid out in front of them. There are eight apple fritters with ice cream they have to juggle back to the table but manage to fit in their hands and arms.
“Look Steve.” Robin says seriously, lowering her voice after a sigh.” She slows her pace, so they take longer to get back to the table. “She has been through a rough time; I won’t tell you what because it took her a long time to trust me enough to open up.”
“Okay…” Steve nods, going over her words and feeling a soft pang of guilt. He wouldn’t have judged you so harshly if he knew you were struggling with something. He wouldn’t have asked you about you changing towns. “You could’ve told me that before I messed up earlier. Before I was bitchy too.”
“You’re always bitchy.” Robin huffs, then hums when she looks at you sitting in the distance. “She’s wonderful Steve, in her own way, so don’t judge her by the way she presents herself. When she trusts you, you’ll see what I‘m talking about.” She gives him a pointed look.  
Robin’s words echo in his head as they reach the picnic table and hand over the food to their friends. Steve places yours in front of you with a nod to which you say thank you. Now that he knows a little more about you, Steve guesses you were both left with a bad first impression. They aren’t his forte, and it’s not his fault you weren’t the same person with him as you are with Robin. You don’t know each other, of course it was going to be awkward. Steve sees what Robin means as everyone chats and eats; he sees it in the way your eyes soften, and lips smile slightly when Max begins to tell you something. He sees it in the way you lean closer to the redhead and whisper something that has her laughing soon after; you smile as well before turning your attention back to the group. Dustin and Eddie are planning some sort of revenge on the jocks from the soccer team who messed up something in their Hellfire Room.
Steve tries to focus on what they’re saying but he’s too busy looking at you, trying to figure you out. What happened? What’s the thing that you told Robin that made you keep the gentleness you showed to Max tucked away? You feel him looking at you and meet his eyes, it’s a distrustful glance from the way you narrow your eyes at him. Okay, Steve probably stared at you too long. He looks away and hears you sigh before you do too, tuning back into the conversation between the Hellfire club sitting at the other end of the picnic table.
“That’s a horrible plan.” You say plainly, making Max snort and Eddie pause the conversation. The metalhead rolls his eyes –no annoyance, no malice in sight. Steve supposes Eddie knows you like Robin does.
“Why is that, buttercup?” Eddie asks.
“They’ll know it was you, and they’ll beat you up, Munson.” You tell him seriously with an eye roll of your own –Steve doesn’t need to know you to catch the concern in your tone. “Put some laxatives in their protein powders instead.”
Steve lets out a bark of laughter that startles the table; that would be a good prank if he’s being honest. Everyone turns to look at him, including you and Steve clears his throat. “It’s a good idea.” He mumbles rubbing his chin, then meets your eyes briefly to find something like amusement in them.
“No, no, no.” Dustin shakes his head. “It is an objectively good plan, there’s no way they’ll know it’s us.”
“Yeah, we’ll wait for them to leave and then sneak into the locker room.” Eddie adds. “We’ll seal their lockers shut, they can’t change into their gear the next day and their coach yells their ears off.”
“The perfect plan.” Dustin says proudly and looks around the take to see who agrees.
“You sure they won’t be able to trace the prank back to you? See it as immediate revenge for what they did?” Max asks nodding towards you, “She’s right.”
“We’re absolutely sure.” Eddie confirms with a nod, clapping his hands in front of him.
“Can I read the eulogy at your funeral then?” You ask Eddie and Dustin with fake enthusiasm. “I call dibs.”
Steve chuckles and next to him, Robin fakes discontent as she rolls her eyes. “Damn, I wanted to do it.”
You send a smile her way before you clear your throat. “Eddie and Dustin died as they lived.” Your words are solemn as you speak. “With bad plans and too much confidence that they’ll work.”
“They always work.” Eddie says, chuckling at your words with everyone else. You simply raise one eyebrow at him, which Steve must admit is hot, and Eddie shakes his head. “I guess they sort of work.”
“So, laxatives?” Dustin asks Eddie after a minute, a defeated hunch to his shoulders.
“Laxatives.” Eddie and the rest of Hellfire repeats before the table bursts into laughter– including Steve.
His eyes don’t leave you though. You’re not laughing like everyone else but there’s a small smile on your face. It is reserved but softens your face in the loveliest way. It shows him you are enjoying their company despite the otherwise inexpressive look on your face. Steve begins to wonder then… if he wins your trust, the one you have with Robin and Max, will you smile at him the same way you do with them? Bright and beautiful enough to blind him? He guesses it would be worth a shot, getting to know you more, because if he’s being honest, he’s intrigued.
--------
The next time Steve sees you it’s at a party. It’s mid-October and the cold weather turns it up a notch with the cold bite to the air. He wouldn’t have gone to the party in the first place, if he’s being honest, but Robin forced him to go. Everyone will be there she’d said but Steve didn’t know who everyone would be. Only when he arrived at Kevin Rotner’s house did he begin to recognize some familiar faces. Nancy, Johnathan, and Eddie arrive at the same time he does and the five of them walk up the driveway and the small path leading to the front porch. There’s loud chatter inside and a boombox playing to the loudest volume in the dinning room. There are people sitting in the staircase laughing at a joke and more loud conversation coming from the backyard. He navigates the house with his friends until Robin spots you in the kitchen, and Steve doesn’t know why he’s so nervous when he sees you. You greet Robin with a hug and shrug when she tells you something, he can hear. Your face is pretty and serious as you look over Robin’s shoulder, spotting everyone else coming to say hi. Steve sees you take a deep breath before you greet everyone — almost as if you’re preparing yourself for small talk and hugs. He greets you last, more open and approachable than last time, and he’s surprised when you wave. “Hi, Steve.”
Something inside Steve jumps, but he thinks it’s only his own surprise. He’s about to say something, when Robin and Nancy take your hand and drag you away with the promise of some new gossip, they have to tell you.
Steve talks to a few people here and there; mostly the ones he’s kept in touch with after high school. Other than that, he doesn’t know anyone else; he doesn’t know if it’s cause he’s grown up but he’s not really having fun. There are people jumping into the pool despite the weather while those who mind the cold have gathered inside the house. Steve’s mostly avoiding the crowds, where the air is too hot despite winter being near, while keeping an eye out for his friends. Nancy and Jonathan are talking to some people he doesn’t know in the kitchen, Robin is trying not to combust while she talks to her crush —her lab partner in biology— and Eddie is walking around the entire party with his lunchbox.
When Steve sees you again, you are people watching in the living room, eyes trained on a few people in the middle of the room. He moves to stand next to you, and you shift your gaze towards him but say nothing; Steve thinks it means it’s okay if you stand here. Your foot taps to the music –Tears for Fears’ Head Over Heels –and your head moves almost imperceptibly to the music. The two of you are quiet for a while, and it’s not awkward like Steve expected it to be, not after the way he messed up at the fair. He’s pleasantly surprised, and relaxes a bit more next to you, slouching slightly against the wall. One of your arms is crossed over your chest while your other elbow rests on it, a red cup in your hand. The music continues to play and your eyes are still trained on the people talking in the living room, they’re some old Hawkins High students Steve kind of recognizes. There’s Angela and Karen, Bradley and Peter and some other people he doesn’t know the names of. Steve leans his weigh on his right leg, which brings him closer to you.
You don’t move away, simply pass him your red cup. Steve moves to shake his head no and say he’s driving, but you speak up before he does. “It’s only soda.” You say and nod at the cup that Steve takes the cup from you shortly after.
“What’re you watching?” Steve asks.
“The only interesting thing that’s going to happen in this party I think.” You look at him finally and lean closer, Steve isn’t sure you’re aware of it. “I think there’s going to be a fight.”
Your eyes hold amusement in them, like you’re excited for what’s about to happen. The tiniest movement of your mouth has Steve glancing down, you’re grinning, barely; he thinks it’s cute.
Steve’s eyebrows raise, interest spiked, and is about to say something when you turn your head again. Bradley is saying something to Angela, his voice loud and slurred but incomprehensible over the music, and not a second later an equally intoxicated Peter swings a punch at him. Another girl, who Steve doesn’t know, confronts Angela they start arguing with Karen joining the fight. Bradley and Peter fall to the ground, wrestling each other while others try to break the fight.
“Wait isn’t she?” Steve’s mind catches up the everything that happened puts two and two together. He’s pretty Angela is dating Bradley, not Peter.
“Yup.” You say with a shrug, tilting your head. “It was all a matter of time before it happened.” It’s all you say, then chuckle. Steve does too, he can’t help himself at the sound of your own laughter, until the two of you are giggling at the fight in front of you.
The music changes then, to something more upbeat, and Steve’s mind can only think about asking you to dance. Would you say yes? Probably not. Before he can ask you though, you step away from the wall. More people have gathered in the living room to watch the fight, and you decide to make your way to the front door. Do crowds bother you? Steve wonders.
“Wait.” Steve goes after you and closes the door behind him. “Where are you going?”
“Home.” Your back is turned to him. The cream-coloured sweater you wear over your lilac skirt and your black boots look lovely on you, and so does your hair. Steve doesn’t know why but he thinks it frames your face perfectly. There’s also a hint of remaining lip-gloss on your lips that shines with the streetlamp’s light… and Steve, well Steve thinks You’re so pretty.
“It’s cold, don’t tell me you’re going to walk.” Steve speaks again, shaking away his previous thoughts.
You shrug, “I usually do, it’s not too far.”
Steve doesn’t know where you live but he knows Rotner lives far away from almost everyone in Hawkins. Your house is probably far away. “I’ll drive you.”  Steve offers, but you sigh and look away.
“Go back to the party Steve, you can drive Robin home.” You say simply. “I’ll see you around.”
“No, she can go with Nancy.” He follows you until he’s walking next to you. “It’s not safe for you to walk home, come on.”
You sigh again and look up at the sky, annoyed. If you’re annoyed, then he’s too, because you’re making a dumb decision for the sake of being stubborn. And you probably don’t know that he’s stubborn too, so you might have to argue all night about whether this decision is right or not. Why is it so hard for you to accept a ride home? You offered him soda and were talking to him just now; it was nice. More than nice.
“I won't stop asking.” Steve says, crossing his arms and stepping in front of you.
Your eyes meet his in an intense half-glare, and Steve can’t help but think how nice your eyeliner looks on you. It does something to him he hasn’t felt in a while. He feels like he can’t breathe while heat creeps up the back of his neck —it’s October, he shouldn’t feel hot at all. A moment later you roll your eyes, though backing down first, and giving Steve some time to breathe as you turn around.
“Alright.”
Steve can’t help smiling in triumph, knowing he just won, and follows you as you walk towards his car further down the road. Amusement paints his eyes as he looks at you; your lips are pursed, and a huff escapes you.
 “You’re pouting” Steve says, looking at your lips and the annoyed look on your face. It makes him smile. You’re pouting.
“I’m not” You look sideways at him.  
“Oh, you are.”
“Shut up, Harrington.” You say and he laughs, opening the passenger’s door for you.
-------
From then on Steve does his best to increase his charm and be a gentleman. He offers you his help as well as rides home whenever he can, especially when you’re alone. The last thing he wants is for you to think that he’s only being nice when your common friends are around. Steve sees you more often now, not as much as he’d like, he must admit, but enough to know more about you. What you’re okay with sharing, more like.  
As he suspected from the party, you don’t like crowds (they make you nervous), and when Steve asked why you’d changed the topic. You work at the Deli on Main Street, have a younger brother named Chris, and you love coffee. He always sees you drinking one in the morning when he gives both you and Robin a ride to school, and whenever he stops by at the deli for lunch during your shift. Most important of all, Steve is starting to see what Robin meant when she said not to judge a book based on its cover. Because, despite your grumpy exterior, there’s a whole personality hidden underneath.
Steve can tell. There are hints and pieces; from the way you dress, to the music you like, and comic books you read and often exchange with Max. When he takes the time to look, he sees the gentleness with which you do things, and the care with which you treat your friends. He also sees your distrust for what it is: fear. You’re afraid, to let new people in, to get hurt, and Steve doesn’t know why.  
He wishes there was something he could do to fix it, to make you see the glass half full instead of half empty, or to change your sporadic pessimism.  But then he figures, he would be changing you, and that’s not something he wants. If he’s being honest, your friend group (Steve isn’t sure if he’s your friend, officially at least) needed someone with an objective outlook on life to set their heads straight. And if he’s honest with himself, he likes all the things that make you you. He likes your confidence when you don’t care what people think about you. He likes it when you fight with Robin over who chooses the music, despite it being his car. And he's pretty much obsessed with your face; the hard set of your jaw when you get impatient, the brow you silently arch that makes him feel things he shouldn’t, and the silent way you listen to conversation, only speaking up when you think it’s necessary. Steve is more than a bit obsessed.
He had been wrong that first day. He didn’t know you and wrongly assumed you weren’t happy to be there with them, when you actually were. He reflects upon it now that he knows your facial expressions; your eyebrows had been relaxed, and your eyes didn’t have a hard edge to them. You had been at ease, only closing yourself off when Steve tried to dig into your move to Hawkins. He really started off with the wrong foot, but it all takes a turn on a Friday night.
You visit FV for a tape mid-afternoon, surprising Steve at work. The weather is more than chilly outside, and Steve notices right away how you have no jacket on, only a dark red sweater. He’d been doing some paperwork behind the counter when the bell over the door for his attention. It rewarded him with the sight of you walking in, looking around before your eyes settle on him.
“Hey, Steve.” You say voice light as you approach him and lean your elbows on the counter. “Do you have karate kid available? My brother is begging us to watch it again tomorrow.”
Steve doesn’t know why but he struggles to speak for a moment —it probably has to do with the fact that you look very pretty, and two, this interaction is so different from your first one he shortcircuits. After a long pause you raise a questioning eyebrow, “You okay?”
Steve clears his throat. “Yeah. Um, we have it, let me go get it.”
“Thank you.” You nod as he dashes away from the counter.
“Did you walk here?” Steve asks once he’s cleared his head and reaches the action movie aisle. He sees you shrug over the stands.
“I usually do, I don’t mind it.” You explain simply.
“You’re not wearing a jacket though.” Steve grabs Karate Kid and goes back to the counter. Why are you always out in the cold without a jacket? It’s a miracle you haven’t fallen sick, he thinks.
“I left school in a rush, I was gonna be late for work.” You shrug again, eyes visibly lighting up when you spot the movie. “Thank God. Chris would have been insufferable if someone beat me to it.”
Steve crouches down behind the counter and retrieves his own jacket —a grey bomber— before placing it on the counter in front of you. “Here.”
“Steve,” You tell him seriously, rolling your eyes. “I’m not taking your jacket.”
“Why not? You’re the one walking out in the cold, I only have to walk towards my car.” He dismisses your refusal with a wave of his hand.
“Hey!” Robin says, calling your name as she emerges from the back room. “Perfect timing, I was going to call you.”
“Here to rent karate kid.” You tell her, a small smile on your face.
“And choosing hypothermia over my jacket.”  Steve chimes in, sliding his jacket pointedly towards you.
“It’s not that cold Steve.” You roll your eyes at him again, “But I know you’ll annoy me until I say yes.”
Steve gives you a triumphant smile and you shake your head, Steve would even say it’s shyly, before you take the jacket and shrug it on. “The movie? Please.”
Robin speaks up while Steve rings you up. “We’re gonna hang out at Nancy’s tonight. The kids will be there too, you should come.”
Steve risks a glance at you, in his jacket; a huge mistake. He seriously underestimated his reaction to seeing you in his clothes, because it is downright adorable and something he was unprepared for. The sleeves go past your hands and the whole thing is oversized on you, his shoulders being broader than yours and his torso longer. Steve bites back a smile —he hopes you never give it back to him; this is a sight he’d love to see more often.  He turns back to the computer to hide his grin from you and silently hopes you’ll say yes.
“Will there be other people?” You ask Robin, and Steve is quick to shake his head no and reassure you. Too quick.
“Just the usual gang.” Steve tells you, clearing his throat to hide his eagerness. “No one else.”
“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Robin insists with a smile, then moves her gaze towards Steve, who tries to ignore the way she raises a knowing eyebrow at him. He’s gonna have an earful once you leave, he can bet on it.  
“Okay, I’ll be there.” You nod, then exchange some cash for the movie Steve hands to you. “Thank you, Steve.”
Steve leans his forearms on the counter, trying to give you his most charming smile to see if he’ll get one of those you give Robin in return. “We’ll pick you up after work.” Steve says and you look into his eyes for a long second before nodding.
“Sure.” You shrug, eyes shifting away from his. “I’ll see you guys later.”
------
At Nancy’s, chaos ensues. The kids argue over what board-game to play while Eddie and Robin argue over what record to play next. Steve is listening to Nancy and Jonathan talk about a volunteering drive she’s organizing and from where he stands, he can see you leaning against the wall next to Robin. Your face is neutral as you listen to the record that’s currently playing, tuning out Eddie’s argument for the most part until you speak up.
“Or you can let me choose?” You ask calmly, glancing at them briefly before going back to looking down at your feet.
“No!” Both Eddie and Robin say at the same time, and Steve notices the corner of your mouth twitch upwards.
“You chose this one, buttercup.” Eddie says with a sigh. “You’re only gonna choose one to annoy us.”
This earns Eddie an eye roll. “How exactly do you know that?” You ask. “It could’ve been a great pick, now you’ll never know Munson.”
Steve tries to tune back into Nancy’s explanation when Max pushes the board game she wanted to play away with a huff. It clatters to the ground as she stands from her place in front of the coffee table. You spot her and call her name only a moment later.  
“Hey Max, I got the new Wonder Woman!” You say after a moment when the read-head stops glaring daggers at the boys. 
Her eyes light up, a dramatic change from the look in her eyes moments ago. “Really? Can I see it?”
“‘Course, I brought it for you.” You roll your eyes, this time full of fondness, and nod towards the kitchen. “It’s in my bag.”
 Steve can’t follow your conversation because the doorbell rings, signalling the pizza Nancy ordered arrived. The weather feels much colder than earlier as he opens the door and steps outside, he pays for the pizza, tips the delivery guy and goes back inside. Arms full of pizza boxes, he walks back to the dining table, shooting a pointed look at Dustin and Mike. “Zip it or you don’t get a single slice.”
The high schoolers move more discarded boardgames away from the table in a heartbeat, scrambling to undo their mess and opening the pizza boxes in a hurry. Steve spots you still standing in the kitchen talking to Max as everyone helps themselves to pizza and decides to let you both know the food is ready.
“So, you skate too?” Max is asking you excitedly, leaning her hip against the kitchen counter.
You chuckle — it hits Steve in the chest and Steve doesn’t know what to do with that. “I do,” You grin, “I mean I used to when I lived in Indianapolis, but I haven’t since I moved here.”
“We can go to the skate-park tomorrow.” Max proposes raising her eyebrows, “If you want.”
You nod, “Sure. I’ll look for my skateboard tonight, let’s hope I still remember how to use it.”
“Pizza’s here.” Steve says, interrupting and smiling at you both. When your eyes meet his, your lips move to smile but in a matter of seconds you stop yourself.
It makes Steve furrow his brows and walk over to you as Max leaves to grab a slice. “You okay?” Steve asks, and your eyes meet his again briefly before they dart away as you sidestep him.
You make your way to the front door in a rush, this time though you do grab your jacket—his jacket— on the way. Just like he did the night of the party, Steve follows you, worried and confused at your reaction. Robin glances at him from the dining table, an unspoken question in her eyes but Steve can only shrug. He is certain he didn’t do anything wrong just now, but somehow, he messed up because you just fled from him.
“Stop.” Steve says after calling your name. “What happened?”
“Nothing, I just need some air. You should go back inside Steve.” Your back is to him, shoulders tense and close to your ears defensively.
“No,” He shakes his head. His lips go down into a frown briefly as he looks at your back. He voices the question he always asks himself when you shut him down. “Did I do something?”
“No.” You say when you turn, eyebrows meeting in the middle as you glare at him but Steve sees the way you struggle to hold it in place. After a second it falls, and your face just crumples to exhausted look. “I want to be alone.” You whisper.
 “You think a glare and a pout are intimidating enough to drive me away?” Steve shakes his head.
“I don’t pout.” You say, lips pursed and jaw tense. Pouting.
“You do and it’s not working.”  
You change tactics then, raising an eyebrow and staring him down like the night at the party but Steve shakes his head. “That’s not working either.”
“Why are you insisting so much on this!” You finally ask, raising your voice and crossing your arms in front of you. Your jaw clenches as you look away and Steve sees your eyes squeeze shut.
He runs a hand down his face and breathes out. “Whether you like it or not there are people who want to get to know you.”
“What, like you?” Your eyes cut a suspicious look Steve’s way and he can see your walls come back up right in front of him. A tear falls down your cheek and you’re quick to wipe it away, harshly. “Why?”
Steve throws his hands up in the air, exasperated but not raising his voice, “To be your friend! Just like Robin and Eddie are your friends.” His shoulders move up and down, trying to cover up how much he likes you and looks forward to your company. “Why are you so distrustful, is it something I did?”
“It’s not about you, Steve.” Your eyebrows meet in the middle again, and you look away from him, directing your gaze to the snow-covered lawn. “If… If it bothers you so much, why do you even want to be my friend? Because you’re wrong Steve. No one else does, and I’m more than fine with that.”
Steve shakes his head, knowing you’re lying to him and trying to convince yourself. His voice softens. “Because despite it, I like you, I think you’re… cool.”
“Cool?” The way you raise your eyebrows makes Steve chuckle.
Funny, caring, fucking beautiful, Steve wants to say but he just nods his head at your question.
“Yeah, and you’re interesting, and I… want to be your friend.” Steve’s hands settle on his hips as he shifts his weigh to one leg, looking down to the ground. Glancing at you briefly, he drops his voice to whisper your name. “Don’t leave. I’m not lying… that’s what worries you right?”
Steve assumes that’s where your distrust comes from; you told him it wasn’t something he did, then it must be that you’re scared to trust him. He’s known there are many feelings behind your hard exterior, one of them being fear. Steve doesn’t want you to fear him, and he wonders who broke your trust in the past. Silence settles between the two of you; you seem to be going over his words and Steve is giving you the time to do so. He’d wait an hour if necessary and reassure you a thousand times if it would mean you believe him. Steve panics when he sees you swallow hard and shift your eyes at the sky, the last thing he wanted to do was make you cry.
But you don’t cry. Instead, you take a deep breath and look into his eyes. There’s a vulnerability there that awakens an urge in Steve to hug you. “You promise?” Your voice is a whisper, but he hears you clear as day. You’ve never spoken so softly before, and Steve wishes it could have happened under other circumstances.
Steve looks into your eyes and nods with sincerity, hoping you can see he’s being completely honest with you. “Yes.”
“I do like you, Steve. You just scare me.” You look down at the ground for a moment and nod to yourself as Steve’s eyebrows shoot hop in surprise. A moment later, your eyes drift back to Steve and there are emotions dancing around in them he’s never seen before. “I’m sorry.”
Steve nods and something inside him tightens when you offer a small smile. It’s like something shifts between the two of you despite neither of you moving. In a matter of seconds, everything feels easy, natural, like the brief moment your shared at the party in October. Steve realizes it’s because you’ve let your guard down; you stand differently in front of him, more comfortable, less apprehensive. You scare me. “You wanna tell me why?”
You press your lips together and shake your head. “Another time, maybe?”
Steve tries to hold back a smile, but he can’t, it takes over his entire face. When he sees you shiver, he offers his hand. “Let’s go back inside, or I can drive you home if you want to leave.”
“I can stay a bit longer.” You say when you grab his hand –an electric shock goes up his arm. “I really want some pizza. But if they play Monopoly I’m definitely leaving.”
Steve’s laughter follows you as he leads the two of you back to the house.
--
The coffee cup Steve places in front of you at work the next Monday lands with a soft thud on the counter. It’s black coffee with some milk and sugar; the way Steve’s learned you take it every day. The sound and his presence make you look up at him over the top of your book, a doubtful eyebrow raised and a serious look on your face. Fuck your pretty, Steve thinks. Your eyes shift from the coffee to his face a couple of times before you close your book.
“What’s this?” You ask, leaning back on your seat and tilting your head.
Steve leans his elbows on the counter in front of you and tilts his head right back. “Considering you drink around 5 of these a day, one would think you’ll know what it is.”
“Ah, that’s where you’re mistaken. I actually drink 10.” You deadpan, looking at him with fake disappointment. “I thought you knew me, now that we’re friends and all.”
Steve laughs, looks down and shakes his head. When he looks at you again, there’s a half smile on your face. “Come on.” He says. “Let’s go grab some food.”
“I literally work at a deli, Steve.” You tell Steve seriously, motioning to your surroundings. “We’re surrounded by food.”
Steve copies what you just said with a roll of his eyes and smiles again. “I mean something else, babe. Come on.”
With a sigh you stand up from your seat and round the counter, leaving your apron behind. “You’re lucky I get a break in a couple of minutes.” You tell Steve before yelling over your shoulder. “Hank I’ll be back!”
Steve’s eyes light up and he considers his visit a triumph. He’s becoming surer and surer his feelings for you go beyond friendship and fondness and lean more towards: I want to hold your hand all the time, and cuddle you while we watch movies then forget about the movie and get lost on you. He wants to put his arm around your shoulder freely, have you lean your weigh against him and steal a kiss, probably more than one. No. It won’t ever happen so Steve shouldn’t even be thinking about it. He opens the passenger’s door to his car for you and smiles when you get in, your coffee in your hand.
It becomes a routine of sorts, either you visit him at Family Video bringing sandwiches for him and Robin or he picks you up, a coffee waiting for you in his car and drives you wherever feels right that day to eat your lunch. You talk about your day, or whatever gossip you heard that day. One day you even confessed to be scared about graduation.
“Everyone is so excited to finish school, and here I am so terrified about the future I haven’t opened any of my college application letters.” You muttered, picking at a loose thread on your sweater.
“Why are you scared?” Steve asked you and you swallow hard.
You turned your body on your seat, facing him as you shrugged. “I feel lost, I don’t know what I should major in. I also don’t know where I’d like to go, and I can't even research these colleges without panic settling on my chest.” Your eyebrows furrowed and your jaw got tense and Steve knew that meant you felt angry and this time it was at yourself.
Steve took your hand without a second thought, but you let him. “You know, you don’t have to figure it all out right now.”
“It feels like it.” You whispered looking at him, frustration and embarrassment shining in your eyes.  “Everyone else has it figured out.”
Steve shook his head; you shouldn’t feel embarrassed with him. “If there’s something I’ve learned about you, is that you don’t care about what other people are doing. What do you want?”
“I ask myself that question every day.” You mirrored his head shake and looked away. “Let’s talk about something else. Please?”
Steve was happy to change the subject, anything to cheer you up. By the time you go back to the Deli to continue your shift, he realized it was the first personal thing you’ve told him. Ever. It made him happier than he cared to admit.
-----
Two months after your talk in Nancy’s driveway, you invite Robin, Nancy, Eddie, Jonathan and Steve to your house. It’s the first time you’ve let anyone other than Robin into your home, this time for movie night. Your father and brother went back to Indianapolis to pick up other stuff from your old house, you said, it’s perfect timing. Steve and Robin arrive together, and shortly afterwards Eddie’s knocking on the door.
 Your house is cozy and simply decorated with a forest green comfy looking couch, a dark brown coffee table and a TV in the living room and all the basic stuff in both the dining room and kitchen.  There’s a record playing somewhere, and Steve can’t help the smile that comes to his face when he sees the way you’re mouthing the words as you move back and for the between the kitchen and living room bringing snacks, drinks and pizza for everyone. You’re wearing a cream-coloured sweater he recognizes from the party back in October and something funny happens in his stomach when he realizes just how far your friendship’s evolved since then.
“Babe come on take a break, we can help.” Steve stops you from going back to the kitchen with a hand on your shoulder and a fond look on his face.
You open your mouth to say something when Eddie and Robin appear on either side of you, presenting the movies they –surprisingly– were in charge to pick. “The best horror movies.” They say in unison.
Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise as you take the three VHS tapes from them. “Oh. Um, great! Thank you.” Your reaction hides behind the grin you shoot both, who nod and disappear to the kitchen.
“You’re pouting.” Steve says stepping closer to you again in the living room; your eyes that were fixed on the VHS tapes drift upwards to meet his own. Steve smiles.
“I’m not pouting.” You tell him with a roll of your eyes, lips settling back into a pout as you scan the titles of the movies once more. “These are just scary.”
“You’re still pouting.” Steve whispers, like it’s a secret. His eyes drift down to your lips, a mistake that has him swallowing hard, before the doorbell rings, signalling Johnathan and Nancy arrived. He’s quick to turn and go let them in. It’s a perfectly timed distraction. He shouldn’t think about kissing you, because despite no matter how badly he wants to, you’d never let it happen, or feel the same way he does to let it happen.  “Just saying!”
Once the first movie plays, Eddie and Robin settle on one end of the couch, while Nancy and Johnathan sit on the floor in front of them. Steve shoots Robin a I know what you’re doing look before sitting next to her and feeling the couch dip under your weigh when you settle on the empty seat next to him. A sweet floral scent he now recognizes as your shampoo or your perfume reaches him and Steve actively decides to focus on the movie, not the way he wants to pull you over his lap and breathe you in. Eddie and Robin laugh every now and then and the four of you turn to look at them, there’s nothing funny about the movie. You begin covering your face with the bucket of popcorn as the movie progresses, your face grimacing as the suspenseful music picks up.
Steve leans closer to you, his voice a whisper as he speaks. “It’s just special effects don’t worry about it.” You turn to look at him, worried puppy dog eyes gazing into him and dammit you make it so hard to keep his distance. “Trust me.” Steve winks, lightening the mood only to jump and scream when he turns to the movie once more and a jump scare comes on.
It seems like the perfect medicine for your fear. For you forget about it and lean your head back laughing, a full-on belly laugh, that’s so contagious and beautiful Steve laughs with you. Nancy and Robin share a knowing look he doesn’t notice before they shush the two of you, shoving at his elbow and your knee. You cover your mouth with your hand and your shoulders shake as you lean your head on Steve’s shoulder, turning your body towards his; Steve’s never been so happy to be scared in his life.
Everyone leaves after 3 movies. Robin gets a ride with Eddie, and Nancy leaves with Jonathan as well. Steve though, stays behind insisting on helping you clean up, but it’s a weak excuse to check on you before he leaves. He noticed you getting nervous, fidgeting with your hands anxiously when everyone started to leave. The films were long done, so Steve knows something else is worrying you and it doesn’t sit well in his heart to leave you like this. Which is why he is currently picking up trash in the living room while you do the same in the kitchen.
You’re finishing placing the dirty dishes in the sink when Steve enters the room. He noticed right away the way your shoulders hunch and you take a deep breath. “Steve…”
“You okay?” Steve closes the trash bag and moves to the sink. His eyes roam your face as he looks sideways at you and washes his hands.
“I um… I wanted to apologize to you.” You tell him quietly, passing him a kitchen towel before moving away from the sink. “For how closed-off I was when you met me.”
After drying his hands quickly, Steve turns and leans on the edge of the sink. “It’s okay, it’s not easy to trust new people right away.” He reassures you –it’s something he understands now; he understands you.
You sit on the counter opposite to him and stare at the floor for a bit, polka dot sock clad feet dangling in the air. “It’s more than that. I’m just scared of getting close to people since…”
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Steve shakes his head, keeping his eyes on your face.
“I trust you, Steve.”
Those four words make Steve’s chest flutter –relief, happiness, nerves– but he pushes the feeling to the back of his mind and patiently waits for you to continue. Your lips are pursed as you stare at the floor, gathering your thoughts.
“My mom…” You swallow, getting chocked up with those to words but soldiering on. With a shake of your head, you look up to the ceiling and will your tears away. “My mom left my dad, brother and I last April. She’d been cheating on dad for years… and that’s not even the worst part.”
You wipe your eyes quickly, lips pulled downwards into a deep frown when you pause again –an upside-down U Steve wishes he could smooth out with his thumb. But he stays where he stands and lets you continue.
“The other man was married too” Your eyes find Steve’s and where there’s usually a spark –like that night at the party– there’s only sadness directed at the memory. “He’s the father of a popular kid at my old high school, so you can guess what happened when everyone found out.”
Steve’s mouths opens again and this time a soft no escapes him.
You press your lips together and nod, “So not only did the news wreck our home… they made life at school unbearable for my brother and I. People who I thought were my friends just threw me away as if I was trash for something I didn’t do. Something I had no fault in.”
“Is that why you moved here?” Steve asks softly, walking closer to you. The answer to the question he asked many months ago, right in front of him and it doesn’t make him feel any satisfaction. No, it hurts him to know this. Moving away from everything you’ve known and starting over again during senior year sounds brutal.
“Yes.” You whisper and close your eyes briefly; more tears fall down your cheeks and Steve’s heart aches. Teary eyes move away from his and fix themselves on the kitchen window instead, your lips are pressed so hard against each other they’re losing colour. “She packed her bags right after school the day we found out. We saw her leave with that man, no other explanation, not even a goodbye or a note. Everyone except my dad and my brother decided to leave me that day.”
A sob escapes you then, finally breaking free and shaking your whole body; another one replaces it once it stops. Your hands move from the counter to your face, covering it as cries continue to escape you in succession. Steve wastes no time and walks to stand in front of you; he hates seeing you in so much pain. God, it must have hurt so much, just being left behind like that. His hands move to your hips and gently urge you to hop off the counter before he wraps you up in his arms. His shoulders shake with the force of your sobs as you cling to him.
“Stevie.” Your hands are bunched up in the back of his polo, holding onto him like a lifeline.
Steve can’t even relish the sound of your calling him Stevie so softly. He swallows hard as he witnesses the pain, you have felt inside of you for so long. “I’m so sorry.” He whispers.
“She left us, Steve. She just disappeared and left us grieving her despite her being alive.” You say between your tears, they soak the right side of his shirt, but Steve couldn’t care less, his arms just tighten around your waist. “She’d been pushing us away for years, treating us like garbage and now I can see it’s because we weren’t good enough for her anymore. She didn’t love any of us anymore. We… we didn’t make her happy.”
Your voice sounds hoarse from crying, and your hands tighten behind Steve’s back. When you bury your face in his chest, Steve hunches his shoulders and forms a cocoon to protect you from the past. His protective nature takes over as he holds you flush against him; his hand moves up and down your back firmly –you need to know he’s there, that he’s got you. Steve puts his cheek over your head and whispers his next words. “I’ve got you; you can cry as much as you need to, I’m not going anywhere.”
It takes a few minutes, but your sobs soon transform into soft sniffles even as you press yourself closer to him. Steve doesn’t want to upset you anymore, but he’s itching to comfort you and let you know what he wishes someone had told him years ago. “I know my own shit experience with my parents isn’t the same as what you went through.” He starts, taking a small step back so he can look at you.
His fingers take a gentle hold of your face until puffy and teary eyes meet his; Steve wipes away some stray tears. “But what your mom did to you doesn’t say anything about you alright? You’re more than good enough for anyone. If she didn’t see that, then she made the worst mistake of her life.”
You close your eyes at his words and look away, but Steve shakes his head and urges you to face him again with a whisper of your name. “You don’t have to prove your worth to anyone because your mother left. All of us see it, and we’re so lucky to have you here.”
Steve’s thumb catches more tears as your lips begins to tremble again. “I’m so fucking lucky that you trust me, and I understand why you didn’t at first, okay? I understand you.”
Your hands on his waist tighten again as your forehead drops to his right shoulder. “I didn’t used to be like this… I’m sorry that this is the me that you met.”
Steve shakes his head, sure that you feel it when he does, and pulls you flush to his chest again. Is this how you’ve felt since last summer? He wonders. Like this version of yourself is wrong or unlikable.
Sure, you’re not a smiley person, but that makes your rare smiles even more special –and they drive Steve crazy. You see the glass half-empty most times to protect yourself if things do indeed go to shit, but you also recognize genuine goodness. You don’t hesitate to encourage or celebrate everyone else’s happiness; he’s seen it firsthand, with the kids, with Robin and even himself. Steve doesn’t think he could ever get tired of your dark humour or that pretty pout that settles on your lips when you get annoyed, not to mention that making you laugh is his favorite thing in the world. Steve understands your anxiety and panic at your college decision, you don’t want another change; you don’t want to choose something you don’t like and face another disappointment again. Most of all, Steve finally understands your hesitance and the root of your gruff exterior, and he wouldn’t change a thing about it. He’s stupid in love with you; your grumpy and soft looks; your frowns and your smiles; your heart; and that tender way you’re holding onto him right now.
Steve places a kiss to the side of your head to keep himself from saying all of this out loud –it’s not the right time, not yet. Instead, he whispers above your ear, “I wouldn’t change a single thing about you.”
For a moment, stillness surrounds the two of you in the kitchen and there’s no other sound but your quiet sniffles against Steve’s shirt again. Steve doesn’t mind, he’s happy to hold you for as long as you need, which ends up being five more minutes. You take a step back and look at him with those pretty eyes of yours; they’re teary and red-rimmed but lovely all the same.
“Thank you, Steve.” You whisper, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips until your gaze drops to his shirt and embarrassment shines in your eyes. “Sorry I cried all over you.”
“I don’t mind.” Steve shrugs and looks at you softly, hands still on your waist. “I think I know what we should do.”
You look at him curiously. “About what?”
“To cheer you up.”
The head shake you give him is immediate, just as he imagined. “I don’t–”
“You deserve a happy life.” Steve states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and sends a wink your way hoping to amuse you. “And I think, ice cream is a good way to start. I should know, I worked at an ice cream shop remember.”
He leaves your side and walks over to the freezer to grab the ice cream he saw earlier that night when he got up mid-movie to get more ice. It’s cookie dough ice cream, which he knows to be your favourite –he’s known since that first night he met you. Knowing he’s completely serious now, your eyes stare into his eyes for a moment before you turn and grab two spoons from a kitchen drawer.
“I guess we’re having ice cream then. Considering you’re an expert.” You say with an eye roll Steve can only describe as fond when you approach him again. A moment later, you sit on the counter and Steve follows suit, sitting next to you. “Spoon?”
“Thank you.” Steve says and takes it from you after opening the ice cream tub. He offers the tub to you first, letting you scoop some ice cream with your spoon which you pop in your mouth. Your arms brush from how close you’re sitting, and Steve has to lean forward to look at you, but he doesn’t mind. He’s happy with the proximity.
A sigh escapes you and you close your eyes as you savour the ice cream. Steve feels heat creep up the back of his neck at the sound, but he shakes the feeling off; you’re only eating ice cream, to make you feel better. “You were right Harrington, this is like medicine.”
“Told you, I’m an expert.” Steve chuckles and eats his own spoonful, the creamy ice cream melting in his tongue before he laughs as you search for the cookie dough in the tub. “This is going to be just plain vanilla ice cream if you keep doing that.”
“Finders keepers.” You tell him with a shrug as you bring the cookie dough to your mouth. “It’s arguably the best part of this ice cream.”
“You’re supposed to eat the ice cream with it!” Steve argues, holding the tub away from your reach. “I want cookie dough too you know.”
You roll your eyes at him, but there’s a soft look on your face as you look at him and nod. The two of you go back to eating ice cream in silence until Steve speaks up again. There are so many things he wants to know about you still –he thinks he’ll always want to know more. “What’s something you miss from living in Indianapolis?”
You pause mid-scoop and concentrate for a few moments going over his question. A moment later a tiny smile makes its way to your lips. “There used to be a wonderful campsite my dad used to take my brother and I; we’d camp for three days and do all sort of activities.”
Steve smiles. “Like what?”
“Dad and Chris love fishing, so we’d do that. There was also hiking, swimming, s’mores. Oh! We’d all tell each other stories sitting next to the fire. They were all completely made up of course, and I think the more ridiculous they were, the more fun we had.”
Your eyes wander around the kitchen, like you’re back in the forest with your family and not next to Steve anymore. Light dances in your eyes and Steve can almost picture the three of you laughing around the fire as the catch of the day roasts on a grill nearby. He knows better than to ask about your mother, he’s got a pretty good idea what the answer would be. Besides, you’ve cried enough already, so much that Steve’s own heart feels bruised from seeing you in pain.
“You haven’t camped here in Hawkins?” Steve asks after a minute, voice quiet to avoid disturbing your memory.
You shake your head and sigh, the mirage in front of you disappearing as your eyes drift back to Steve’s. “Dad’s not the same person he was during those camping trips… he hasn’t scouted a good place for us to go. I don’t think he even wants to go camping anymore.”
Steve puts the ice cream tub on the counter and takes your hand instead. “Maybe we could go camping someday, invite everyone, have fun…”
Your head moves to rest on his shoulder, the dizzying smell of your shampoo and perfume reaching Steve’s nose at the proximity. He leans his cheek on top of your head and feels the faint nod you give him. “Maybe.”
A comfortable silence settles between the two of you, your hand still in Steve’s grasp. Until he gives it a squeeze that makes you jump, as if you forgot you were holding hands in the first place. Steve chuckles. “What?”
Your head leaves his shoulder in an instant and for a second Steve is sure you’re going to hide behind your walls again, like you did so many months ago. His fear though, is replaced with concern when you hop off the counter and check the time with a frown.
“Babe come on, what’s going on?” He hops off the counter and stands in front of you. His eyes search yours until finally your gaze meets his, your embarrassment clear in them.
“I just hate being home alone at night. It makes me anxious.” Your hands fidget in front of you, as if you’re waiting for Steve to laugh at you. Oh, so that’s why you were nervous earlier. “I can’t sleep. At all.”
He looks down at his watch and sees that it’s midnight already. “I don’t mind staying over.” Bringing his eyes back to yours, he speaks up again. “Would that make you feel better?”
You close your eyes and let out a shaky exhale before you nod. “A lot better.” When your eyes open again, they’re full of gratefulness and surprise, as if Steve wouldn’t do anything for you.
 A smile grows on Steve’s face, and he takes your hand before you can thank him, threading your fingers together as he speaks. “Come on, you’re probably tired.”
Steve, however, is everything but tired. His heart is racing at the thought of spending the night here with you. You’ve never spent so much time together in a day, he’s never seen your bedroom, and there’s something about this impromptu sleepover that makes heat creep up the back of his neck. No. He’s here to give you emotional support; you were so anxious earlier and there’s nothing he wants more than to see you happy and comfortable. If staying here, despite it sending his feelings into a frenzy, is the key for you to rest then so be it. He can stay for one night.
You don’t let go of his hand as you lead him upstairs, passing various pictures of you and your family that hang from the wall opposite the handrail. There are three bedrooms upstairs and yours is the last one down the hall, its view towards the backyard. You open the door a moment later and let go of his hand as you step inside. Now that he’s here, Steve remembers neither of you made sure the doors were locked downstairs. He should do that.
“I’m going to take a shower.” You tell him as you walk towards your dresser.
Steve nods and swallows hard, using the excuse of your safety to be downstairs while that happens. “We forgot to lock everything downstairs. I’ll go do that.”
“Oh, right.” You press your palm to your forehead; Steve can see you reprimand yourself. “Thank you, Steve.”
“No problem.” Steve is quick to shake his head as he takes a step back from the room. “I’ll be right back.”
Once Steve is back downstairs, he makes sure to check the windows and lock the front door. He fiddles with the light switches for a while before he finds the right ones and turns the lights off. The whole process takes him less than five minutes, and the shower is still running when he’s back in your room. With a deep breath he finally looks around, gazing through a metaphorical window into your world, which he surprisingly already knew a lot of. The pastel walls make him smile, and he walks along the furthermost wall where various posters have been hung –all bands and singers Robin and you have played in his car. There’s a small vanity by the closet next to the bathroom, full of tiny bottles and a couple of lip-gloss tubes. Steve also spots a purple bottle of perfume on top, and a grin makes its way to his face –that’s the one that drives him crazy, he’s sure of it. He’s about to move closer and look at the pictures you’ve pasted in the vanity’s mirror, but he’s startled to a stop when you speak.
“I left a shirt for you to sleep in, if you want it.” You say and Steve turns around.
His heart summersaults when he sees you, fresh dewy face, hair out of your face, an oversized grey t-shirt with a pink Queen logo on the front and pink cotton sleeping pants. The overhead light of the bathroom makes a small rectangle in the carpeted floor, and some steam from your shower still circles around behind you. It takes all Steve’s self-control to stay where he is and not walk up to you and pull you into his arms; no tears between you this time, just Steve holding you the way he wishes he could all the time. He looks at the t-shirt you left on your bed to distract himself and laughs when he notices the colour.
“How’d you guess I love pink?” Steve asks you, glancing your way as he walks towards the bed and holds up the t-shirt. It’s very oversized like yours, and it has a black and fuchsia print of Blondie’s lead singer on it.
“Dunno, just thought it would suit you.” you chuckle, and Steve sees you hold back a smile as you point towards the bathroom. “There’s a spare toothbrush on the sink.”
Steve nods and hurries to the bathroom, lest you notice him blushing. He finds the toothbrush instantly and proceeds to brush his teeth, and though he doesn’t know why, Steve feels extremely happy to know both of you use the same toothpaste. He glances around and looks at all the details that are entirely yours around the room. There are some facial creams on a shelf next to the mirror, a vanilla scented hand soap on the sink, and a look towards the shower shows him two purple and pink shampoo and conditioner bottles –the ones that make your hair smell like flowers. Steve rinses his mouth, then takes off his sweater and jeans before he puts on the pink t-shirt you gave him and, like a freak, smells it to find that somehow your scent still lingers in the soft cotton.
If he was panicking before, he’s panicking even more now. He’s obsessed with you, he realizes, stupidly head over the heels and all of this is making it worse; lying on a bed next to you will make it so much worse. He’s got to pull himself together. He’s doing this because of fear of being home alone, that’s all. He can sleep alongside you for a night without making a fool of himself –or worse, accidentally confess his feelings. So, pushing all bed related thoughts to the back of his mind, he walks out of the bathroom to find you already under your duvet in bed.
 Not letting himself think too much about it, Steve turns off the lamp on your nightstand and slips under the duvet too. He keeps his body still, tense more accurately, as he lies next to you. That is until you turn to face him, and he immediately does too, like a magnet naturally attracted to you.
“Do you ever fear that you’ll wake up one day and everyone you know will be gone?” you whisper in the dark; your voice is almost silent, but Steve hears you loud and clear with how close he is to you. The minty smell of your toothpaste mingles with his own breath. Is this how things are going to be between you now, deep conversations and secrets you only trust to each other? He really hopes so.
Steve shakes his head, trying to make out your face in the dark as his heart constricts in his chest. “No,” he says just as quietly, “But sometimes I’m afraid that something terrible will happen and I won’t be able to help.”
Steve closes his eyes and exhales through his nose as he voices one of his fears for the first time. He’s sure that everything that happened in the Upside Down that they managed to fix was thanks to the brains in his friend group. Steve is all physical strength, which has proved useful in the past, but against monsters or whatever the hell could come next, he’s not sure it will be enough. The thought of being useless like that and everyone suffering because of it terrifies him. Even more now that you’re a part of said friend group. He’s sure of one thing though, he’d protect you and all his friends no matter what.
Your hand slowly moves to his shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “Knowing you, Steve, I’m a thousand percent sure you’d find a way to help. Your stubbornness can be a good thing.”
A breathy chuckle leaves him as your words punch the air out of him. He’s silent for a moment, scrambling for something reassuring to say back. Words aren’t his forte, not unless he’s flirting. He’d rather pull you close to him and comfort you that way, the way he did in the kitchen. “You know… if we were to disappear for whatever reason, you can bet I’d fight my way to you. You won’t be alone.”
Steve sees you nod your head in the dark, his only sign that you haven’t fallen asleep yet. Your hand goes back to your side, in front of his before you stifle a yawn. Assuming your eyes are tired from all their crying, Steve moves his hand to cup your cheek gently.
“Go to sleep, you need to rest.” He whispers; he wants to give you more comfort, pull you close and rub your back until you fall asleep. He doesn’t because he can’t, that would make things weird.
“Thank you for staying with me.” You whisper back.
Remaining silent to avoid saying something that’d give away just how deep his feelings for you run, or the fact that the opportunity to be lying here next to you is something he should be thankful for, he only rubs his thumb softly on your cheek once more before letting go. With another yawn you turn around, your back facing Steve as you whisper goodnight.
Steve doesn’t know when he falls asleep, but he knows he sleeps more peacefully than he has in a while. Not that he doesn’t sleep well often, but most days his dreamless sleep is a result of the exhaustion of the day and not peacefulness. Last night though, there were no nightmares, no tossing and turning, just a distant dream of a campfire in the woods, fireflies, and a silhouette standing peacefully by the water. At some point, early in the morning, he finds himself waking to the light sneaking into the room from a small gap in the tulle curtains. His eyes that were too sleepy to open, blink awake at the awareness that you’re in his arms. Lovely floral scent and cozy softness pressed to him.
It seems that during the night, you’d shifted to your side and burrowed yourself on his chest, an arm around his waist and leg thrown over his hip. His left arm is around you, settled between your shoulder blades, holding you to him. He lifts it and checks his watch, barely 6am but Steve knows he should go. The last thing he wants is your father getting back home and finding him in your bed. Steve doesn’t know him and that’s not the first impression he’s looking for. Besides, there’s a pressing problem in his briefs, that has appeared from being tangled up with you, that he needs to hide in his jeans before you notice. Shifting his hips way from you he looks down at your sleeping face, brushing hair away from your face before he whispers your name.
“Hmm,” You frown, eyes still closed. “What?”
“You’re a cuddler,” Steve says as he smiles; it’s something that should surprise him, but it doesn’t. Not at all.
“I’m not.” You mumble and, contradicting yourself, press closer to him.   
“Yes, you are.” He chuckles, shifting his hips backwards again. “I have to go.”
You frown but move away from him, turning and facing away. “Why?”
Steve slips from bed and puts his jeans back on, adjust himself, before pulling his sweater over his head and on top of the pink t-shirt. Call him a lovestruck fool, but he’s not giving it back. “I don’t know when your dad’s gonna be back, I don’t want him to find a boy he doesn’t know in your bed.”
You chuckle, then yawn as you shift and sit up in bed. Steve stares at you longer than he should. His eyes take in your messy hair and your still puffy eyes from all your crying the night before. He smiles widely.
“I have drool on my face, don’t I?” You sigh, moving the back of your hand to the corner of your mouth.
Steve laughs and shakes his head. “No, you don’t; you look pretty that’s all.”
His words reward him with an eyeroll and a headshake before you stand up. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”
You remain silent as the two of you walk side by side all the way down to the front door. Steve takes his car keys, and you move to open the door, but pause after a moment. Steve’s eyes look into yours as he wonders if there’s something wrong but when your eyes shift up to him, a small smile settles on your lips. Next thing Steve knows, your arms go around him in a hug.
He can’t help but sigh at the feeling and leaning his cheek on top of your head. “You okay?”
You nod and look up at him. “Thank you, Steve.” You say, stepping on the tip of your toes and pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“Don’t thank me.” Steve smiles, letting his arms fall to his sides as his heart skips several beats. “Wanna get a coffee later?”
Is he bribing you with caffeine just to see you again? Of course, he is. Steve is charming, and he has a lot of work to do if he wants to make a move soon.
“Only if I get to pay.” You raise an eyebrow but smile nonetheless, that rare big smile he loves.
Steve huffs and opens the door. “Sure, babe.” He says though he knows you don’t believe him.
He walks to his car when you nod –heart pounding– and smiles as he drives away. Your figure on the rear-view mirror watches him leave until he turns at the end of the driveway. Steve leans his elbow on the door, his hand settling over his mouth as he thinks about the events of last night and this morning. Hope fills his chest, and Steve feels like this is the beginning of something really good for both of you.
 ---
There’s a small shift in your dynamic after that late night conversation in your kitchen. It’s like almost as if it brought you both closer: like a barrier breaking between you and Steve. Steve knows he should take it slow, that he should better conceal his feelings to avoid scaring you off. But another part of Steve wants to throw caution to the wind because there’s been a change in you too. I trust you, Steve, you’d said, and it shows. In the way you sit closer to him, how you give away more pieces of your past and yourself when you talk. There’s less apprehension and more curiosity from both of you and Steve can’t help but fall and fall and fall. He only hopes it doesn’t end up with him crashing down painfully.
The two of you make a new habit of visiting a small the café on the weekends; you sitting sideways on the couch and Steve talking nonsense to make you laugh. It starts the day after the sleepover, and the two of you use it as time to catch up on the events of the week. It delights him; every Saturday, he wants nothing more than to lean close and kiss your smile, the one he never thought he’d be at the receiving end of. You have bad days too, days in which Steve knows you’ve been crying, days where all you want to do is sit in silence with him. Steve doesn’t mind, at all, in fact he loves all your mood equally and now that he knows the backstory of what you went through, he offers you the quiet reassurance of his presence next to you, so you know you’re not alone.
Weeks pass like this, until winter leaves and spring comes. Overnight, the breeze has no bite to it anymore, the flowers bloom again and you begin to wear the prettiest floral dresses that give Steve a whole new reason to be obsessed with you.
“You two are adorable; when are you going to tell her, dingus?”
Steve and Robin had stopped by the Deli to get something to eat during their lunch break while you were on your lunch break too. The three of you had spent the 30 minutes talking between bites of your own sandwiches until the moment Steve had to drive away and you had to go back to your shift. He hears Robins words but his eyes follow your retreating figure until you’re out of sight –his mind is begging him to find you and steal a kiss just so he doesn’t go crazy. Robin snaps her fingers in front of his face and laughs when Steve startles. He rolls his eyes and gets in the car while Robin asks him the same question again.
Steve rolls his eyes again, “Tell her what?”
“That you’re obsessed with her dummy!” Robin hits his arm, Steve sends her an annoyed look, “You love her come on, you have to tell her.”
“No, I can’t.” He’s been thinking about it more often now. Keeping it to himself has been almost impossible lately and he knows he should do it before he breaks.
“Yes, you can, and you have to.” Robin asserts, setting her converse on the dashboard. “She clearly feels the same way.”
“She doesn’t.” Steve’s answer is instant as he focuses on the road and getting back to FV, his fingers gripping the steering wheel so hard they turn white. It’s a half-lie, and they both know it.
“She does and you know it.” Out of the corner of his eye he sees Robin shake her head.  “The way she looks at you Steve… it’s unbearable to watch, coming from her.”
Steve knows it, he’s seen that change. He’s felt the pitter patter of his heart, the way his hands shake when you look at him like that, like he’s all you want. But Steve is a coward in denial, he doesn’t want to assume wrong and send you running away from him. But if Robin’s seen it… “You really think so?” He says as he parks his car and Robin nods enthusiastically.
“Duh!”
He nods to himself, “Okay... I can tell her tonight. We are hanging out at my place anyway.”
“I’ll make myself scarce, just say the word and I’ll disappear.” When Steve nods Robin cheers, opening the passenger door and stepping outside. “Don’t mess it up, Steve.”
“I’ll try.” Steve grips the steering wheel, trying to calm himself down.
Steve doesn’t get a chance to though, for that afternoon with greying clouds in the sky you show up at Family Video as soon as your shift at the Deli ends. Steve is about to go to the back and finish some inventory he has procrastinated all week when he sees you pacing in front of his car, arms crossed over your chest. His heart soars, then fills with dread –somethings wrong. He knows it right away which is why he rounds the counter and rushes outside in a heartbeat.
“Babe, what’re you doing here?” Steve says as soon as he opens the door. “It’s gonna rain come on, let’s go inside.”
But you shake your head and look at him with a look he can’t name. It’s a sad look, and it makes Steve panic; he panics even more when he sees your eyes are teary and red-rimmed. “Did something happen? At work or at home?”
“I love you.” You say, at the same time thunder cracks in the distance. Your trembling lips press together when Steve’s move to smile, and your headshake makes Steve pause. “But I don’t think we should see each other again.”
“What?” Steve’s question is a whisper, almost lost to another booming thunder. “Why would you say that? Did I do something?”
“No, Steve.” You sigh, voice shaky, looking everywhere but his eyes. Steve knows this tell though; you don’t want to be caught in a lie. “We just don’t fit–”
“No.” He says simply, shaking his head as he interrupts you. This is that night in the Wheeler’s driveway all over again, you trying to shut everyone out. His hands still shake slightly though, at your confession, your words afterwards, at the idea of losing you.
“Steve it won’t work.” You tell him, it cracks halfway with feeling, and you swallow hard before repeating yourself. “It would never work.”
“Yes it will, it’s us.” Steve tells you, shaking his head. He remembers how far you’ve come, how close the two of you have gotten. He should’ve have known it would scare you, after what happened with your family. “Of course it will! It has worked for months.”
“It won’t! It won’t work regardless of our feelings. Because I’m me! And you’re you –you’ll get sick of me and then leave. And it’ll hurt more than anything I’ve ever experienced.” You tell him, shaking your head and looking at him with reddening eyes. Both your arms are crossed over your chest, as if you’re physically protecting your heart from feeling what if feels for him. I love you, you said. Around you, the sky begins to open, bathing both of you with big droplets of water. “I told you before, you scare me because I’ve never felt this way before.”
Steve tries to take a step closer, but you take a step back; it makes him groan in frustration. “You can’t make that decision for me! How can you think I’d just leave you?”
“Because the person who I thought never would, LEFT.” You yell, eyes brimming with tears that roll down your cheeks. They mix with the raindrops that fall on both of you and Steve’s heart aches.
“Then she didn’t love you enough, not the way you deserve.” Steve places his hands on his hips, looking at the wet concrete underneath his shoes. His eyebrows meet in the middle as he swallows hard. He can’t put into words how angry it makes him that someone hurt you so much, that you’re scared of being happy again. “I thought you trusted me.”
“I do.” You tell him, hands falling to your sides. Your voice is so quiet that the rain falling around you almost drowns it out. “You know I do.”
“Then let me love you!” You’re stunned into silence by Steve’s words, confessed loudly in an outburst as he brings his hands to his hair. He meets your eyes and feels his own tear up; he really doesn’t want to lose you. “Let me prove to you that I love you like crazy, baby. Because I do, you have no idea how much.”
Your eyes squeeze shut and Steve knows you can see all of his feelings reflected on his face. “I don’t want to be heartbroken again Steve! Can’t you see you’re sunshine, and I–”
“Don’t say that.” He whispers and steps closer to you, holding both of your hands. The way you cling to them sparks a fire in his heart, keeps his hope alive. “I told you I wouldn’t change a thing about you, that I’d fight my way to you.”
You try to let go of him, but Steve only pulls you closer even as you look away from him, lip trembling. “You know my issues, especially after what happened last year.”
“I do know them, and I’m telling you now that I don’t plan on ever letting you go. This isn’t just a fling, and you know it.” His hands go to your face, holding it gently and looking into your eyes. Those beautiful eyes he’s seen tear up, the ones that crinkle in the corners when you laugh and turn steely when you’re mad. He wants to look at them forever.
You close them, bracing yourself, as the sky continues to fall all around you. Big drops of water hitting your skin and soaking your clothes every second that passes. “Even if I have bad days, or get exasperated with you, or I’m a grump?”
Steve smiles and shakes his head. If only you knew. “I love it when you’re a grump, I want to kiss your pout so badly every time.”
“I don’t pout,” You roll your eyes, but Steve can see you’re trying to hide your fear. He’s learned every little detail about you to memory, this is you trying to build a wall. Well then, Steve knows how to break them down.
“I promise,” Steve says, like he did that November night you fought outside in the cold. His nose brushes against yours as tenderly as he can, rainwater sliding down between your faces –his breath catches on his throat. “I love everything about you, everything baby, trust me. It’s you and me, that won’t change.”
You nod, trust shining in your eyes as a teary smile makes its way to your face when you let it free. It knocks the air out of Steve’s lungs. “Stevie, I love you.”
 He leans his forehead against yours, happy beyond words and because he’s not good with them he says, “I really want to kiss you.”
“Then kiss me,” You urge him.
Steve leans down, holding your face in his hands and lingering close as he braces himself for this; this moment he’s wished for so many times. He smiles, and thinks finally, before leaning in and kissing you. A noise dies in the back of his throat, his chest feels full of helium and his mind reels at the everything he’s feeling. It’s even better than he dreamed it would be. Your lips soft against his, your hands in his hair, the sigh that escapes you when one of his arms wraps around your waist and presses you flush against him. His skin is buzzing, his fingertips are tingling. So he kisses you until you’re both dizzy, brushing his tongue against yours, matching your intensity head-on. Everything is intoxicating, the sweet scent of your perfume, the softness under his hands, the way your face feels like it’s on fire as his hand remains cupping your cheek. Steve is so in love he could faint, so he breathes you in as he kisses your cheek, your jaw, your neck and just below your ear until the two of you pull back. Soaked in rain, without a care in the world.
“Does this mean you’re my boyfriend?” You ask him softly, stepping impossibly closer to him.
Steve smiles proudly, heart soaring. “Yes it does, I’m yours.”
“I want to kiss you again.” You confess after a minute, blinking away that raindrops that have gathered in your eyelashes and smiling at him. “But I’m cold.”
 Steve laughs when you frown and pulls you closer to him. “Yeah, we should probably get out of the rain.”
----
thank you for reading! reblogs are really appreciated and so is any feedback 💖
(I also wrote this tiny insight to grumpy reader’s feelings here )
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rafeysbafey · 11 months
Text
✮ WE THOUGHT GHOSTFACE GOT TO YOU —ETHAN LANDRY
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SUMMARY. you don’t realize how loud you were with ethan until you see the group.
WARNINGS. MDNI, smut under cut, fem!reader, dom!ethan, degrading, language, fluff, mentions of gf
WORD COUNT. 0.3k
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ethan was pounding into you at a relentless pace, his hands gripping your hips painfully as his nails dug into the soft skin.
your head was thrown back against the pillow as you cried out in pleasure, his cock hitting a certain spot just right causing strings of moans to escape your lips.
“you like that, slut?” he spat, one hand leaving your waist to grab your chin and force you to look at him.
your pupils were blown and tears stained your cheeks as you stared up at him.
“you like being my little fuck toy?”
you could only nod, your mind foggy and throat scratchy from all the screaming you had done.
he didn’t seem satisfied with your answer, his thrusts stilling for a second so he could loop his hands under your legs and yank you closer to him.
his cock practically penetrated your insides, ethan bringing you impossibly closer as his tip forced its way into your cervix.
“say it,” he growled, not daring to move as you wiggled against him, desperate for some type of friction.
“p-please,” you sobbed, grabbing his hands that held your legs as you scratched at them, needing him to move.
“i’m y-your little f-fuck toy.”
a dark grin took over the boys features as he hummed in approval, eyes falling to your cunt that was practically squeezing the life out of him.
he started to rock his hips into you slowly, a satisfied moan leaving your lips as your walls clung onto him tightly.
before you could process what was happening next, he dragged his cock almost completely out of you before slamming back in, causing you to cry out in pleasure.
“gonna make you cum so hard,” he panted, leaning down to burry his face into your neck and bite gently at the skin, “you wont be able to walk for days.”
your stomach formed into the all-too-familiar knot as your walls tighten around his cock, feeling every vein and detail that decorated it.
“cum.” was the last thing you heard before your vision went dark and your body shook, toes curling against the sheets as ethan released inside of you.
you don’t know how long you were out for, but when you woke up, ethan was dressed and cleaning you up.
your legs were parted as he ran a wet wash cloth over your pussy, causing you to jolt and let out a whimper.
“n-no more,” you whispered, ethan’s dark eyes softening as he was quick to assure you.
“just cleaning you up, darling.”
you let him finish before watching him grab a pair of clean boxers and a t shirt, both belonging to him.
he came over and helped you put the boxers on, your hips raising to help him slide them on easier before he did the same with the shirt.
you let out a sigh of approval at the smell of him that lingered on the shirt, feeling immediate comfort.
“i think the others will be here any second,” he said, running a hand over your face and through your hair as you leaned into his touch.
you allowed him to help you up, your legs immediately shaking and an uncomfortable pain running down them as you whimpered softly.
“did i go too hard?” he asked, no trace of teasing in his voice as he looked at you concerned.
this was the ethan you fell in love with, the nerdy—sweet boy that you sat next to in econ in the beginning of the year.
you quickly shook your head, offering him a small smile as you assured him.
“all good,” you smiled, letting him wrap an arm around your waist and walk you out of his room.
your eyes practically fell out of your head when they landed on the group—chad, sam, tara, and quinn all scattered around the living room.
“don’t tell me-” you mumbled, cut off by tara who couldn’t help but laugh as she spoke.
“yep.”
your face flushed red as you buried it in ethan’s chest, too embarrassed to face the group at knowing they had heard you two.
although you couldn’t see, you knew ethan was wearing a shit eating grin—no embarrassment found on his features.
“trust me, it wasn’t all sunshine and butterflies for us either,” chad mumbled, the group laughing before he joked—
“we thought ghostface had got to you.”
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gremlingottoosilly · 5 months
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The only thing you want to do is... [Price x fem!Reader]
Price broke his hand on the last mission. Fortunately for him, his caretaker is just as adorable as she is eager to help him in every way.
CW and tags: Legal age gap, power imbalance, daddy kink, pervert!Price, obsessive!Price, coercion into sex, handjob (m!receiving)
Word count: 3246
This work on AO3
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You’re such a sunshine, it hurts. 
John Price never considered himself to be a good man. He did what he had to do to protect his country, to ensure that big bad terrorists are kept at bay, and foreign militaries are ending up where they belong – somewhere in the ditch, with reports stating KIA an anonymous bullet drugged out of their skulls. 
His job was just that – a job, something that had to be done because he knew that someone else, someone worse, would gladly take his place in case of retirement. The captain can be considered a fucking angel compared to some people he is working with – no one would ever dare call him evil when people like Graves still exist out there, hunting for innocents. 
But you’re so fucking sweet to him, he simply can’t handle it. 
When his arm got injured, and he was forced to get on leave for at least a month – he tried to argue for something less, but Lasswell silently pointed out that he hadn’t had a break in the past five years, and she would kick him out of his own Task Force if he’d continue to refuse – he got assigned a caretaker by Kate recommendation. 
John was fully expecting some old lady, probably a retired officer or field medic. Maybe some burly man with too much time on his hands and the ability to give really nice massages under flights of bullets. Perhaps, worst case scenario, he would be assigned an actual; nurse that wouldn’t buy any of his shit – that amount of whiskey he drinks is prescribed by his therapist, smoking cigars in the apartment is a nice form of relaxation, and he actually doesn’t need help and can go in service back again less than in two weeks. 
But, the Captain got wee ol’ you, all nice and warm, and adorable, and too fucking young to have anything to do with his apartment. 
You’re nice, warm, fresh out of college, where you got some recommendations about rehabilitating veterans back into normal lives. Probably was writing a Thesis about something as dumb as “Healing PTSD through flower crowns and little touches”. You chirp your way into his heart and refuse to go out – just like Kate promised to him, you really didn’t allow him to do anything on his own. 
God, it was infuriating – how much he wanted to simply grab your shoulders and kiss you. Or kick you out and find someone else to take care of him, someone boring, someone of appropriate age. Without dumb, bright eyes and cute smiles, without enthusiasm, that can only be seen in unpaid interns and college graduates who still believe that the world is fair and nice. 
You cook his dinners and clean up his apartment – as small as it is, never having a family or any other reason to make it even slightly bigger – and you do this with such a wide smile on your face it actually makes Price question basically everything he knows about young ladies doing charity work. You must be paid triple because you fold his underwear in neat little cubes and refuse to accept his help. Always chirped something about his hand like he can’t kill a man with his teeth only. 
— I can fold my own pants, love. 
He presses his body against the doorframe of the small bathroom – looks at your ass so shamelessly bent over the washing machine. You’re folding his dried clothes, and he can only pray that you aren’t slowly resenting him for being such a disgusting old man. He knew he looked good for his age, 37 years in this world molded him into something that many young women would consider hot – even though his beard is unkept and his hair grew a bit longer since he couldn’t be arsed to do anything about it, and his dominant hand is broken. 
— We don’t want to sprain your hand even more, right? — Everythin’ is alright with my bloody hand…
— Lady Lasswell said I shouldn’t listen to you like this, sir. Sorry. 
— Little minx. 
— Me or Lady Lasswell? 
John looks at you, so eager and cheerful, and he just wants to…he can’t, of course, he stops himself before he even forms the thought because it’s dirty and you don’t deserve this, and your shy smile as you laugh softly and push the last of the laundry in the neat pile on the washing machine. 
You look too eager to please, and he has an idea – the one he will never act upon. Maybe will entertain himself later, stroking himself in some abandoned base deep in the snowy tundra, trying to remember your warmth as if a sinner like him can even comprehend your light. 
God, you got him so bad, he starts thinking about good ol’ Jesus again. You really are a side to behold, aren’t ya. 
He looks at you again – you’re so easy to please. You cook for him, the smell of home cooking that he almost forgot, all the ingredients you invited yourself to buy when he left his card for you. You didn’t think it was weird, not a single mischievous bone in your body – if anything, he was casually prompting you to go and buy yourself something nice, something as compensation for all the trouble you endured for him. 
Instead, you went out of your way to cook for him, to make him tea like he wanted it – without sugar, but with a small amount of milk poured into a cup that is probably the most expensive thing in this whole place except for his weapons. 
The problem is – John Price doesn’t really like it when people are taking care of him. Not because he is shy or insecure, god forbid, but because he knows that if a pretty young thing like you is going to show him kindness, he will take a fucking mile and make you run from him as fast as you can. He has desires, he has needs, something that pretty good girls like you should know nothing about. 
You’re so eager to please that you’ll probably jerk him off if he were to whine about his arm being broken and his inability to get himself off because of it. Which, in turn, gives him an…idea. 
Price was never a good person – he isn’t the worst guy either. He sees your reactions, that adorable heat of your face when he brushes his knuckles over your cheek in an affectionate manner. How you are biting your lips every time you have to fold his underwear, when you cook for him, and he presses his body against yours, rocking his hips just gently enough to not make his arousal obvious. John knows you like him in more ways than just one – he doubts that such a lovegirl like you would ever agree to take care of a grumpy military man like him. 
He wonders where your father is – probably out of the picture if his precious daughter is almost crying from a desire to please a guy like him. He wonders if you have a boyfriend or if you’re seeing someone else – if you’re a virgin or you already had a series of disappointing sessions with blokes that have no idea how to behave with an angel like you. 
Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be taking care of a SAS captain – did your superiors forget to tell you just how girl-hungry men like him are? That he didn’t even bother to find a wife, and the loneliness of a single life will make him fucking explode if a girl as pretty as you were in the vicinity of that perverted old dog. You must be stupid – or so insanely naive, it’s not even funny. 
He licks his lips, staring at you again. He is certainly isn’t a good guy – not the worst either, but it’s up for debate. He wants to hold you close and say all of those pretty good things he knows you want to hear. He also wants to push you as close to him as possible and just fuck that pretty girl until you’re begging for him to make you his wife. He’d always laugh at the thought of other military commanders and higher rank soldiers having sugar babies – especially the mercs and their fucking inability to keep a girl who isn’t tied to their paychecks. But now…he might just pay for your adorable pout and eagerness. 
Might make a call to that one masked arsehole and ask how the hell he keeps his questionably young wife around without breaking her legs. Visibly, at least. 
— Sir? Planet calls for Captain Price. 
You giggle when you are waving your hand around him. Shit – looks like he zoned out for a hot minute, leaving you free to stare at his face, the fantom red spreading across his skin as if he is actually embarrassed to be caught like this. He isn’t, of course, he is stronger than some girl trying to get a rise out of him. He thinks he is stronger, at least. 
You wave your hand in front of his face again, and the insects are kicking in – captain grabs your hand, not even caring that his supposed helplessness stems from the fact his dominant hand is still broken. He has no problems keeping you in place with just his left hand – and you almost look scared when you understand that you literally can’t move. 
Your innocent smile turns into a pathetic whimper when he squeezes you even more. Bruises, no doubt, are starting to form already – well, it should be your fault. Good girls are usually smarter than teasing an old dog like him, even if you’re trying to play innocence. He knows what you are. 
His future special girl that is. A wife, if he plays his cards right…and the captain was always good at poker. 
— Shite, love. Sorry. 
His smile mirrors yours – an innocent display like he didn’t almost break your wrist in his hold. He is still squeezing your hand, but not he slowly presses his lips against your knuckles – thin, dry lips gently caressing your skin in a gesture that you should never accept from a guy who kills people as a job. Who saves people, too – but a good guy with a gun is barely an upgrade from a bad one. 
He kisses your fingers and finds heaven in the feeling of your soft skin against his lips. You are certainly embarrassed, and this is exactly what he wants – an old pervert trying to get in the pants of a cute girl who just wants to take care of him without any strings attached. He just has to make this whale thing complicated, isn’t he? 
— It’s okay, sir. Just thought I lost you for a second. 
— Not a chance. 
Your smile looks a tad bit mischievous – that is, or he is simply hallucinating from painkillers he is forced to drink every morning because you refuse to let him feel pain even though he is used to it. You are acting like he is a soft doll made out of pink ribbons and soft plushes, not a seasoned soldier with his own thoughts and ideas about what he can do about your desire to please him. He might just use your eagerness – his cock has been pitching for too long without female attention, and he usually doesn’t indulge in shitty one-night stands in some sketchy pubs, but he can make an exception for now. For you. 
You smile awkwardly, still trying to get your hand out of his grasp. Little minx, teasing him like he can’t just push you on this exact washing machine and fuck you like a slut you are. Poor girl, you probably don’t even know what kind of thoughts he has in his head – even though your eyes tell him something your lips cannot articulate. 
John acts on his instincts, and they usually don’t deceive him. 
— If you want to help so badly, I can think of another way. 
— Is that so, sir? You’re going to get him in so much shit with Lasswell, he doesn’t even know how he is going to get out of it after fucking her best little protege. Would have to marry you – like it’s not his end goal, like he doesn’t want to make your care for him a tad bit more permanent. He has done so many good things for humanity, why can’t he be a bit selfish and get himself a little something to make this place feel more like home? 
He thinks of a pretty thing like you, heavy with his kids, cooking something nice and hearty in his house – not this crappy apartment, of course, he’d buy you something in the countryside, away from terrorists and public squares, with good schools and greenery all around. 
You lick your lips and tilt your head to the side. He is daydreaming again. 
— If you want to make me relax so badly, love, there is something I need help with…
Beating around the bush like this isn’t in his character – but he knows that you’re a good girl, maybe way too good and proper. He can’t just shove his dick in your hand, it would be too unpolite. 
He has to prepare you, it’s a slow sniper mission where he needs to approach you as gently and quietly as possible – he still holds your hand in his, a phantom of his lips tucked away on the softness of your skin. 
Then he places his hand on his growing erection – as awkwardly as he can operate with only using his left arm as a helper. 
Price might not be the master of espionage, but he also didn’t get his rank for not being able to do cover missions under pressuring circumstances and lie in the faces of people who trust him. Not be the best person, of course, but he gives you a choice. You have all the power now – even with his weapons safely stashed in his bedroom, he knows he won’t ever try to force you. He won’t have to. 
— Help your captain, eh? 
You’re embarrassed, shy, scared even – your hands are trembling, fingers tracing the outline of his cock with morbid curiosity he never thought he’d find this adorable. You don’t stop and don’t try to fight him – like a little animal, nervous and terrified somewhat, you’re slowly indulging yourself in something that you actually shouldn’t. 
He lets go of your hand and allows you to continue on your own – like a good girl, you only nod and slowly duck your palm in his boxers. He’d say that the way he is rock-solid just from looking at your ass and pouting on your face is weak, but he can afford to be a bit pathetic after so many weeks without the ability to jerk off. With your watchful gaze, he just couldn’t find it in his heart – or the only remaining working hand – to do something to help with his raging crush on this adorable social worker who comes to help him. 
John is many things – a war hero, war criminal, the captain, and the butcher of many who may deem his actions irredeemable. He made peace with not being the poster good guy and often dirtying his hands just to keep the world clean – and he knows that, in the end, he deserves a pretty young thing to jerk him off while he kisses your hairline and whispers sweet nothing with that beautiful accent of his. 
— This is not very… appropriate, sir.
— Bullocks, love. You’re helpin’, that’s why you’re here. 
 You’re nervous when your hand, squeezing his shaft firmly, goes up and down on his cock. You’re trying to find the rhythm in his quiet grunts and little moans, not having too much experience with pleasuring men who you like this much. It’s fear of disappointing him that makes you go wild, that approving gaze of his every time you press your soft fingers against the head of his cock and squeeze a little. 
He is throbbing in your palm, pre-cum leaking on the small of your fingers – naturally, you lick it as slowly as possible, not breaking the eye contact. 
Price moans. 
— Bloody hell, luv…so good for daddy. 
The name makes your ears burn, the desire growing in your stomach – you fight the urge to drop on your knees and take him fully in your mouth. This isn’t what he wants, you think, so you just continue to squeeze him more, making sure he is satisfied with every little movement your hand makes. You lick your lips and continue, feeble attempts at containing the rhythm with shaky fingers. 
— I just wanted to help you with your life, not…this. 
He chuckles, unharmed hand presses on the small of your back to fix you in place. You lick your lips, understanding that he is not going to let you go this easily – you don’t want to behave like this, of course, it’s against the terms of your contract and your agreement to help him without feelings attached, but he moans so deeply for you, hips are buckling to fuck the firmness of your hand like he is ready to use your moist, prepared pussy. 
God, what are you even thinking about? 
You don’t know if you should be doing this, but the captain is not letting you go – and you can’t even do anything against his wishes, can you? 
— We really shouldn’t be doing this. 
— Quiet. I’ll help you out after my hand is healed, eh? — This isn’t what I’m talking about, sir. 
— Now, let’s not use that here. I’m sir in the field, not here. 
He is manipulating you as hard as he can – he can feel the tension in your eyes and the way you’re squeezing his cock, and he wants nothing more but to simply push you harder, make you fall apart in his hold like a precious porcelain vase. You’re sensitive and shy, just perfect for a bastard like him – his only regret is that the dumb cast on his right hand won’t really allow him to relax to have sex with you properly. 
He will pay you back later – on your back, on your knees, on your tummy, moaning his name as he plunges his seed deep into you. It was about time he’d settle down with a pretty wife of his own – he can afford you, certainly. 
— I can’t call you daddy, it’s embarrassing…
Your shy words are what send him over the edge. John Price was never a good guy to begin with, but your little pleas are enough to make him cum – and it’s certainly one of the biggest sins he has ever committed. Cute girl like you shouldn’t be so embarrassed about jerking him off, but here you are. 
Your hands are covered in cum as he continues to release his seed, only sad because he wasn’t able to breed you properly – that’s the agenda for the time when he finally is freed from this dumb cast. Might just ask Lasswell for extended leave. 
— You’ll just have to get used to this, love. Not letting you go after this. 
You can only whimper when he kisses you – possessive and tender at the same time. A silent promise of making you his dumb little wife. 
2K notes · View notes
sovksluv · 3 months
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i promise, angel
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𖤐 . pairing - Luke Castellan x fem!Hera!reader
𖤐 . summary - luke changes your lastname
𖤐 . content includes - luke being cute and lovesick, forbidden child because who doesn’t love attention, can’t really thing of anything else
𖤐 . word count - 1386
𖤐 . taglist - @perseus-jackass @niktwazny303
𖤐 . a/n - ugh this is so cute i was kicking my feet the whole time 🤭🤭
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you had a small feeling bubbling deep inside you all day, one that had only grown as the day went on. from the moment you woke up to right now, where you and your stunning boyfriend Luke were lying on a beautiful field, amazed at the bright shining stars above you. 
it was you guys’ seven year anniversary, which you had spent the whole day celebrating. you and Luke met when you were sixteen, and you had just arrived at Camp Half-Blood for the first time. you were claimed the second you made eye contact with him, by your mother, Hera.
it was an indescribable feeling that washed over you that day. you had already met other people before Luke, but when your eyes met his for the very first time, that’s when you felt it. not only did you feel the presence of your elegant mother, but you swore you met the love of your life right then and there. 
you don’t think Luke realized as quickly as you did, though, considering it took almost two whole years for him to finally ask you out. and that’s what you’re doing here in the field with him, relishing in the seven perfect years you spent with each other. you didn’t think the day could get any more perfect, but that feeling from before still gave you hope.
while you ogled at the stars above, you felt the gaze of your lover on the side of your face. your head slowly turned towards him, finding a soft smile rested on his lips. “what?” you giggled, grinning widely while your boyfriend shamelessly stared at you.
“am i not allowed to stare at my gorgeous girlfriend?” he joked, carelessly exaggerating the label. you felt your heart flutter, gaping at the man you'd loved since you were just a teenager, assuming you wouldn't last more than a year. 
you flashed him a pearly smile while he carefully reached his left hand towards you, tucking your hair behind your ear. it sent goosebumps down the right side of your body, emitting a squeaky giggle from you. “weeeell… i never said ya couldn’t look at me,” you shrugged, still brightly grinning at him. 
Luke sat up, grabbing your hand to pull you too. he wrapped his right arm around your shoulder and tucked your body into his, kissing all over the top of your head. “i wanna show you something,” he mumbled in your ear, standing up on his feet and offering his hand out to you. 
tilting your head, you looked at him suspiciously, “what?” your hand lifted cautiously to his. he rolled his eyes, grasping your hand and pulling you up with him, right into his arms. “just come on, it’s not like i’m gonna kill you,” he chuckled, lacing his arm around your waist as he guided you to your next destination. 
he led you back to the trail you left off from, walking further down it until you stopped at a lit pavilion. the lights that surrounded you made your skin glow with an ethereal beauty. Luke gawked at you, unable to tear your eyes from the mesmerizing girl that was standing in front of him. 
“Luke, this is beautiful,” you gasped at the scene, carefully taking it all in as you felt him take both your hands in his, holding them comfortably. “it is, isn’t it?” you hear him say, your head turns back towards him, finding him already looking at you. a warm blush creeps up onto your face, and you feel that familiar bubbling in your stomach once again.
he whispers your name, not breaking eye contact, not letting go of your hands. “Luke,” you whisper back, reciprocating the squeeze he left on your hands. he smiles at you, not a cheeky one, but a genuine smile. a smile that tells you all you’d ever need to hear, without even uttering a single word.
he lets go of your hands, gently making sure they are by your side before he reaches to his back pocket, pulling something from it but not showing you. your eyebrows furrowed, confusion etched on your face until he moved again. 
slowly, Luke lowered, his right knee resting on the ground. your eyes widened in shock as he looked up at you, revealing what was behind his back to be a white velvet ring box. “Luke.” you warned, as if there was any possible way he could be messing with you. 
but he wasn’t. he bashfully stared at you with a goofy grin on his face, holding up the box in front of you. your heartbeat sped up, hands shooting to cup your gaping mouth. “Luke,” you murmured, muffled by your own hands. 
he just kept staring at you, slowly opening the box to reveal a gorgeous diamond ring, one that reflected on the lights around you. you were so in awe, feeling tears pool in your eyes as your heart exploded. Luke’s voice muttering your name again was barely heard, but you still looked at him.
“i have loved you sniff since the moment i laid eyes on you.” he quickly wiped under his left eye before continuing, “and i knew- i knew right at that moment that i sniff was gonna marry you one day,” you smiled widely and he smiled back, tearfully chuckling. 
his name left your lips once again but he interrupted you, “no, no, wait, let me finish, okay? I’m almost done, angel, i promise,” he sniffed again, still holding the delicate ring box with his shaky hands. you nodded, signaling him to continue.
he called your name once more, taking a deep breath to prepare himself for your upcoming answer. “will you do me the greatest honor in the world sniff of becoming my wife?” he finished, a hopeful, lovestruck look pooling in his eyes. his heart stopped, the wait, which was only a few seconds, felt like hours, years even.
but then you squealed, loudly, freaking out at his question. “yes! yes, yes, yes! a million times yes! oh my Gods, yes!” Luke was still in shock, partially frozen, unsure if the words he heard were real or not. he quickly shot up onto his feet, barely having any time to balance himself before you basically threw your body at him.
your arms locked around his neck, practically choking him with how hard you held him. with your face buried into his neck and the ring box held tightly in his left hand, he wrapped his right arm around you, tugging you even closer to him, if that was possible.
you kept your hold around him but slightly pulled away, cupping his face you shoved your lips on his, kissing him so aggressively that he almost fell backwards. Luke kissed you back with just as much ferocity, pushing your head closer using the back of his wrist.
after a while, you finally pulled away, desperate for air. “yes, Luke Castellan, i will marry you,” you grinned, breathlessly. he smiled widely, pulling from you as you lifted your left hand to him. he carefully pulled your ring from its confinements, then he held your hand in his and placed it on your ring finger.
“it’s perfect,” you whispered, entranced by the gleaming diamond that decorated your finger. you were so quiet Luke almost didn’t hear you, but he did. his hand cupped your cheek, moving your head to look at him.
his eyes were glassy and his smile left wrinkles in the corners of them. he slowly leaned down, capturing your lips once more. one hand slid further down your jaw, keeping your lips close to his, while the other found the small of your back, leaning your lower body closer into his.
the kiss was delicate and un-rushed. you closed your eyes and savored it, wrapping one of your arms around his neck while the other, the one adorned with your new accessory rested on his chest, gripping his shirt and tugging him closer.
you both slowly pulled away at the same time, lovingly staring into each other’s eyes. you brightly smiled at him again, feeling your mother’s presence all around you. Luke repeated your name one last time, like he had all night, but ended with his last name trailing right behind it.
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© sovksluv 2024 , please do not repost or translate my work !
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1K notes · View notes
malusokay · 1 year
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2023 reset guide
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Glow up
2023 vision board. Visualize your dream 2023 and write down your goals!
Daily Hot girl walks. No excuses, babes; let's get moving!
Reflecting on 2022. Look back at what you've accomplished and what you could have done differently.
Make a Bucketlist. Write down places you want to visit and things you want to do.
Extended self-care. Take some time to yourself to recover from the stressful holidays and get back on track. <3
Buy a good SPF. Do some research and find something that works for you!
Start Investing in yourself. Money, time, and energy. Put yourself first!
Annual check-ups. Make a dentist appointment, go to the optometrist etc...
Buy a Silk pillowcase. Protect your skin and hair!
Set clear boundaries. And make sure that people respect them!
Less screen time. Self-explanatory.
Manicure, lash lift, haircut. High maintenance to be low maintenance! ;)
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Wellness
Daily vitamins. Visit a doctor to discuss which ones you should be taking for the best results.
Morning stretches. Wake up your body and drink some water!
Skin/hair care. It's time to find products that actually work for you.
Reading more literature. Set yourself a daily reading goal.
Planned grocery lists. Make a grocery list that aligns with your dietary needs and goals to make shopping less stressful. <3
Less coffee. Especially if you struggle with anxiety!!
More greens and protein. Let's give our body what it needs.
Journaling. Truly helps with overthinking!!
8 hours of sleep. Beauty sleep. <3
Cooking for yourself. Such a cute form of daily self-care.
Yoga. Or just any low-impact exercises in general.
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Deep cleaning
Organizing your closet. Only keep things that make you feel beautiful.
Budgeting. Check your bank account and plan ahead.
Clean your hairbrushes. Trust me...
Donating clothes. Donate the items that you don't wear anymore.
Clean your make-up brushes. The first step to clear skin!!
Fresh sheets. Wash your pillows too.
Charge your electronics. IPad, Mac, Camera etc...
Get rid of expired make-up and skincare. Step 2 to clear skin, lol.
Declutter stationary. No need to keep dried-out pens.
Delete old emails. I currently have 1840...
Delete unnecessary apps. Anything you don't need.
Clean your camera roll. Making some space for new memories! :)
Cut out toxic people. <3
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Mindset
Pretty, smart, kind, and prioritising myself.
Positive affirmations!!
Your daily habits play a huge role in your mood/life. Be mindful, and take care of yourself.
It's okay to outgrow people!!
Decide what kind of life you actually want and start saying no to everything that won't get you there.
"I'm attracting opportunities that align with my dream life."
A girl who will do big things can't let small things bother her.
Honestly, reinvent yourself over and over again until you are satisfied with who you are.
Do you want to be comfortable, or do you want to grow?
"Am I doing this for me, or am I performing for others?"
very high standards. VERY HIGH STANDARDS.
Be obsessed with yourself.
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2022 has been such a life-changing year for me, not only personally but also regarding my social media! As I already said on Twitter, I'm incredibly grateful for this little community that has formed this year, and I'm excited for all the things that lay ahead of us! I wish everyone a successful 2023 with many beautiful moments and lots of growth!!
✩‧₊*:・love ya ・:*₊‧✩
6K notes · View notes
slvttyplum · 4 months
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𐙚⋆.˚ distraction| choso kamo
synopsis: you’re not being so good but choso still gives you what you’re craving.
contents: bimbo!reader, nerd!choso, smut.
choso adjusted himself in his chair, looking at the bright computer screen, numbers shinning off the glass, and squinting at the bright words and numbers.
his hand sliding over to his mouse, the arrow nowhere to be found. he shakes the mouse a couple of times, then lifts it up, turning it around.
the red light not there, looking over at you on his bed with your legs thrown behind you, kicking your feet.
then looking down at the outlet beside the desk and seeing a phone cord snaking to his bed and the mouse cord on the floor.
shaking his head, he lets out an aggravated sigh before getting up, unplugging the lamp cord, and plugging up his mouse.
“heyyy! i needed that.” you whine out, turning around on the bed quickly, looking at him. he looks at you, then back at the computer, shaking the mouse.
“you can’t get both things; it’s either the lamp or the charger.” he mutters out, not wanting to even converse at the moment.
you begged and begged and begged to come over, and he finally lets it happen because... it’s you, but all you do is create chaos and whine.
yeah you were cute, but what else? what the hell was he thinking? you’re his girlfriend of 3 years, for fuck sake; get it together, choso.
you jump out of bed, tossing your phone on the mattress, and walk behind choso, leaning over his shoulder and squinting at the screen.
his hands are working on the keyboard and mouse so fast, which is impressive. your mouth in the shape of an “o” holding your arm out and tapping the screen.
“what does that mean?” you coo still squinting; squinting doesn’t automatically make things make sense.
choso sighs, grabbing your wrist and rolling his chair out, pulling you towards him. his legs spread out.
grabbing your hips and placing you into his lap roughly, a headache entering his head. you were distracting.
“why can’t you just be a good girl and stay out of the way?" his voice was deep but soft, and his dark eyes looked directly into your big ones.
a pout on your mouth when he says those words, what? you were just asking a question: what had him so tight today?
“i am; telling me to stay out of the way isn’t nice.” his eyes sliding off of yours and turning the chair back to the computer screen, sliding into the desk.
“what way do you want me to put it?” his voice low, removing his hands from your hips and putting them back on the keyboard, clicking away.
as he clicks away, your eyes scan the side of his face, and you move back and forth on his lap. so pretty, you thought to yourself.
he washed his hair a couple of hours ago, so his dark locks were a little frizzy, the glow from the computer illuminating his glasses.
a smile appearing on your face as you reach your hand out, cupping his jaw and rubbing his cheek with your thumb.
“my pretty boy.” you whisper, still lightly moving on his leg, a little more intensely now.
choso’s eyes are still fixed on the computer screen, but he can feel you moving, your core digging into his thigh, and his typing getting slower.
little affirmative whispers slipping out of your mouth as you’re dazed out, fixed on the beauty in front.
you’re so into your own thoughts, not noticing the pool of arousal set beneath your panties, choso could feel it all, though.
the little heartbeat your pussy has pulsing on him, and you practically shaking and dazing out, making him hard.
your hand mindlessly traveling to the middle of the thighs, rubbing your aching core, his beauty unmatched.
“baby.” choso whispers out, not sure what to do. on one hand, he wanted to bend you over the desk and fuck you, but on the other, he didn’t want to bother you.
a tiny lump sliding up your throat and coming out a moan, your eyes watering from you not blinking, pleasure building up between your legs.
you didn’t reply, just small whispers to yourself about how good he looked, a little drool peeking out the side of your mouth.
your fingers digging into your clothed pussy, as your eyes go in and out trying to make out his face.
the grip on his jaw loosens as the pleasure between your thighs gets more and more achy.
“do you need help?" choso says, his voice dropping to a whisper as he begins to shake his leg, the vibration and bounce sending you to mars.
your knees hitting together as you get overwhelmed with pleasure, his eyes darting to you and the screen in front of him.
pathetic, on his thigh, whimpering and moaning like a puppy. he couldn’t just let you continue like that.
his hands sliding off the keyboard and onto your hips, one of his hands sliding down to your leg, bringing it to the other side of him.
now you’re on his lap, face him, his bulge pushing into your aching heat, the pulsing only getting faster.
“i’m at your service... use me.” he couldn’t even get the last words out before you fumbled over his sweatpant strings and pulled them down, popping out his length.
pre-cum sliding down his shaft as you prop yourself up, lining up with him as you bring your shorts and panties to the side.
not wasting any precious seconds to slip them off.
his tip grazing your pussy.
choso’s hands are firm on your hips as you wobble, trying to line yourself up, and his eyes are directly on yours.
finally lined up correctly, you waste no time pushing down all the way onto his cock; your slick wall’s instantly clamping onto him.
a sharp moan sliding out past choso’s lip, his eyes squinting rather than opening, your arms wrapping around his neck, and your face in the crook of his neck.
“so… mm good.” you moan out into his neck, choso looking behind you and sliding into his desk more, removing his hands from your hips and putting them on his keyboard.
“yeah? tell me how good you feel.” he grunts out, typing on his keyboard, your body going up and down from his peripheral, trying to focus on the screen.
the keys bouncing up and down with the rhythm you were going, his mind losing thought but trying to concentrate.
he couldn’t win for losing; even when you were in his lap, you needed more and were never satisfied with what he gave you.
the pleasure erupting inside you was too much, yet you needed more. his fingers were still bouncing on the keys like you were bouncing on his dick.
“i feel so good... mm, just deep.” you say, not being able to make out any more words at the moment.
his glasses moving as your body is pushing up against him, the grip around his neck getting tighter, but he’s not budging.
tiny moans releasing out past your lips one after another, the intense pleasure choso was filling was so much he needed to focus.
give you what you wanted and get his work done.
his fingers jolting every time he presses the key, his body getting hotter and his head getting fuzzy, your whimpers sliding through his ears.
“can you be a good girl and quiet down for me? hm?” his words are coming out softer than before, and your ass is coming down on his lap harder.
his dick curving hitting your weak spot, your body clenching up, your walls firm around his cock.
your hand covering up your mouth, trying to quiet down, slowly lowering your hand, and pushing your body down again.
“yes… mm, sorry... feels so good.” you whine out, the pleasure getting so intense you’re sure to explode.
“don’t be sorry, baby; this is all you know.” he mutters the last part, knowing you would get upset; he didn’t mean it in a malicious way.
lump after lump getting caught in your throat the more you try to hold down your moans, your eyes watery from how hard you were covering your mouth.
your pussyclenching into his dick, squeezing his tip so hard, he found himself mindlessly moaning and getting blurry eyes trying to focus.
the more you clamp down on him, the closer you get to a knot with a thousand butterflies swarming around your stomach.
your body was moving on its own; you were only receiving the pleasure from his big dick carving into you.
leaving his shape, imprint, and cum behind inside you, just as you liked it. being used by him and him only.
he “mm m cum.” you whine out, trying to let out the words you were going to cum, but the little words you knew got shadowed out by the pleasure.
his dick twitching and pulsing inside of you, the waves of pleasure flowing through both of your heated bodies.
a quiet, muffled moan sliding past your lips as you thrust down one final time, clamping around his dick.
choso’s eyes squinted shut as his fingers hestitated going to the next key, his dick pulsing and pumping cum into you.
“i want your cum.” you whine out, your head snuggling into his neck with comfort as you feel his seed slowly trickle out of you.
“i know you do pretty girl... i know.”
802 notes · View notes
beababoobies · 3 months
Note
Hey there you said you needed a Hazbin Hotel request? I got just the thing. Is it okay you do a Alastor x witch reader? Like reader was a witch before she died and is basically pretty powerful especially in magic? I like to think she covers up her body because she’s covered in tattoos that look like magic ruins or ritual symbols. Idk i just thought it would be cute of Alastor falling in love with a classy yet a badass witch who can put him in his place.
Heya Anon! Yes, Absolutely! I love my witchy friends (shoutout to Tatianna because she follows my blog.) I wasn’t sure exactly on which type of Witch you were referring to, so I decided on a random mix of diff witch cultures! Please shoot me a request if that’s not what you had in mind and I can re-write this for you. Thanks a ton for the request!
From Experience
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Alastor x Fem!Witch!Reader
words : 1k , no warnings!
You let out a sigh as you started the spell you had been planning for weeks now. You had to go to Lust to get aphrodisiac rose powder, cannibal town to get the dried blood (and have a coffee and chat with Rosie, of course.) you even attended to Blood Moon festival very shortly to get some black tree root straight from the source from your friend Sally Mae. The candles had been lit - your spirit guides told you it was ready. You closed your eyes softly as you started to read out the incantation in your head.
You sighed softly through your nose as you felt yourself slowly start to float, the bone-marrow candles you had bought starting to glow a blood red colour as you felt the power of the spell start to wash over you, the magical ruins carved into your body lighting up, making you glow softly, and it was all coming together nicely, perfectly one might say - 
“Hello, Darling!” 
You let out a small scream and opened your eyes, falling to the floor with a small thud, groaning as you open your eyes to the familiar face smiling back at you, chuckling softly as you rub your head gently, rolling your eyes. Not an evil spirit. Okay, an evil spirit. But a very familiar one. “Alastor, what a surprise.” You said as he walked over to you, offering you his hand and you took it, hoisting yourself up and letting out a soft sigh as you saw the spilt wax across the floor. 
“How rude of me to interrupt you! Allow me.” He hums softly, and you watch as the candles are returned back to their original state, turning back to him with a smile, brushing your now messed hair back into place, tilting your head. “Back again so soon?” You said with a chuckle, walking into your kitchen to get a cup of tea, him following quickly behind.
Now that you thought about it - he was back very, very soon. You had last seen him yesterday for lunch, and just two days before that for an evening stroll. After seven years of absence, you could’ve sworn you hadn’t even seen him this much before he disappeared. This meant he either needed something, or he was playing you in a big plan.
“Oh, well you just make the best steaming cup of chamomile, my dear.” He compliments, sitting at your small window-side table. You chuckled, taking a spoonful of the mix you had taken years to perfect, crushing the leaves, adding in just a bit of cinnamon. You had even figured out the best tea bags. Possibly your best spell ever. You dismissed your worries as your own overthinking, sighing as you poured the boiling water into the mugs.
“No sugar for you again?” You say, eyes not looking back at him as you pull the cane sugar out from your cabinet, spooning a couple helpings into your mug. “You know me too well, darling.” He says and you blush softly, putting the cane sugar back, bringing both the mugs to the table, placing one in front of him, and one in front of yourself.
“So, why are you back so quickly, hmm?” You said teasingly, leaning back in your chair, mixing the tea in your mug lazily, toying with the spoon as you watching him dip the boiling liquid - always uncanny, how he could do that - before looking back up at you. 
“One could say I’ve taken a bit of a liking to you, my love.” He says with a smile, and you feel your face get hot - from more than just the steam from your tea. He chuckles softly at your reaction, taking another sip from his mug, leaning back in his chair and watching you try to find the right words. Platonically? It’s hard to decipher a man who’s walked out of a couple decades before your time. 
“One might even say you… like me?” You say, testing the waters as you discard your cup back onto the table, crossing your arms over your chest, skepticism all over your expression causing Alastor to let out another chuckle. “One could say that. But I hate that way of saying it.” He responds flatly, putting his mug down as well, tilting his head at you. Trying to read a man who’s face was always carved into that sharp-toothed grin was hard.
“While we are speaking of taking a liking to things.” He says, holding out his hand, a small jar of black sand from the burning desert - one of a kind, unbelievably expensive, and your eyes widened. You swallowed thickly as you eyes the small vial, looking up at him with a small grin. 
“I’m not giving you my soul for this. Tempting, though.” You said with a playful smile, watching him place it delicately on the table. “Oh, no, darling, it is yours for the price of this cup of tea. A friend gave it to me in exchange for a… favor.” He says with a small chuckle, watching you pick up the vial cautiously and inspect it, turning it upside down and watching the pitch black sand move around in the glass. 
Oh, the things you could do with this. 
“And why should I take your murder sand?” You say with a smile, looking back up at him as you toyed with vial carefully, raising your eyebrows, watching his eyes trail down to the vial and then back up to you. 
“Well, I’ve heard it’s good for love spells.” He hums softly, taking another nonchalant sip of his tea, watching you nearly cough on your own spit over the statement, collecting yourself before piercing your lips together, eyes going from him to the vial over and over. 
“And how would you know this, hmm? You some sort of ritual expert now?” You said with a playful smile and tone, clutching the vial in your hand and leaning forward, chin resting on your palm. 
“Let’s just say I can speak from experience.” 
716 notes · View notes
yourgothiccqueen · 26 days
Text
LN4 - “Formula One Sucks” Part 2
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Summary: Y/N and Lando go on their first date.
Pairings: Lando Norris x Female Reader
Warnings: Swearing, hints of sexual tension etc
PART 1 PART 2 PART 3
Masterlist
*Ping*
Y/N glanced down at her phone, a small smile forming at her lips. There would only be one person messaging her so late at night.
lightning mcqueen: Soooo, what did you think of the race today? :)
The last thing she expected to happen after her begrudging trip to Silverstone was to end up texting a certain McLaren driver.
Well, it was more than texting really. There were calls too, every other day. Lando was a busy (understatement of the year) guy, but they’d found themselves falling into a comfortable routine of late night conversations.
y/n: didn’t watch it, was too busy washing my dog :,)
A lie, of course. Y/N had recently found herself infatuated with F1. She hadn’t missed a race. But she wasn’t going to let Lando feel smug about that.
lightning mcqueen: u little shit, you don’t have a dog!
y/n: says who?!
lightning mcqueen: you, on the phone last week!
y/n: 🤷‍♀️ maybe I was washing my friends dog?
lightning mcqueen: its okay, no need for lies - i know ur an f1 super fan now thanks to yours truly :D
Y/N felt a smile tug at her lips. Okay, he was smug. But it was kinda cute.
y/n: okayyyy, perhaps I did watch. And perhaps I thought you were rather impressive. happy now?
lightning mcqueen: very :) goodnight grumpy girl x
y/n: goodnight u smug bastard x
————————————————————-
It didn’t take long for him to ask her on a date. It caught her by surprise, despite the ease at which they’d been chatting over the past month.
“What do you even wear on a date with an F1 driver?” Y/N groaned, flopping back on to her bed.
Piles of clothes were scattered around the room, deemed totally unacceptable for a date with Lando Norris.
“Not this.” Her friend Annie, grimaced, picking up a bright pink Oodie off of the floor.
“Yeah no shit!”
“Look, you must have something in here.” Annie rummaged through the wardrobe. “Where’s he taking you anyway?”
“Someplace in central. It’s not too fancy, but it’s definitely fancier than the pink Oodie.” Y/N pointed.
“Oooo. This could work!” Annie pulled out a relatively new, seemingly unworn black dress. “Can’t go wrong with a little black dress.”
Y/N’s eyes widen - “I can’t wear that!”
“Why the hell not?”
“It’s too…showy. I bought it on a whim. For a nice occasion.”
Annie rolled her eyes “if you’re not going to wear it on a date with a super hot formula one driver, then when the hell are you gonna wear it?!”
Fair point.
———————————————————
Stood outside the restaurant, Y/N felt her nerves begin to grow. What the hell was she doing? She didn’t do this sort of thing! If she’d had told herself a month ago that she’d be going on a date with Lando, she’d have laughed in her own face. This was wild. This was ridiculous. This was positively insane in fact!
“Y/N?”
Suddenly whipped out of her own thoughts, Y/N turned around.
Oh god, he looked bloody gorgeous.
He smiled at her, his eyes twinkling as he did. His white shirt was a stark contrast against his tan skin. His curly hair was slightly more tamed than usual - he’d clearly made an effort, which made Y/N’s heart race even faster.
“Hey!” She managed to stutter out, sounding far more confident than she felt inside.
“Hi! God I’m so sorry I’m late, were you waiting long?” Lando queried.
Y/N had failed to notice that he was late in the first place, having been so in her own head.
“No just got here.” She smiled. “You look really nice.” She paused, a fleeting moment of confidence. “For a smug bastard, of course.”
A quick laugh left Lando’s mouth.
“Ha! You look lovely too, despite being the world's grumpiest woman, of course.”
“Oh of course.” Y/N giggled, as they made their way inside.
He’d chosen well - it was beautiful inside the restaurant, but not fancy enough to make Y/N feel uncomfortable.
Y/N placed her phone down on the table as she sat, and Lando couldn’t help but catch a glimpse.
“Wait, why am I called Lightning McQueen in your phone?” He laughed.
“Because you’re fast - duh!”
“Lightning McQueen is red.” Lando retorted, a look of exasperation written across his face, as he made himself comfortable in his chair.
“So?”
Lando rolled his eyes, jokingly.
"There's nothing wrong with red cars!" Y/N exclaimed.
“Well, I prefer orange myself. Gimme your phone, I’ve got a better name.”
“If I must”
Y/N passed her phone across the table and into Lando's hand. His fingers brushed hers as she did so. Despite their playful bickering, she couldn't help but wish she could leave her hand on his a moment longer.
God, she was fully gone and she'd only been sat in his presence for less than five minutes. He was going to be the death of her.
Lando typed into Y/N’s phone momentarily, before passing it back, a small smirk on his face.
“Lando ‘The Hunk’ Norris?” She laughed, eyebrows raising. “Really?”
“Well, it’s much more accurate, don’t you think?”
He folded his arms across his chest. Y/N felt herself begin to blush, so decided the sane response was to hide herself behind the menu.
"Well?" Lando quipped.
"Well what, Lando 'The Hunk' Norris?" Y/N spoke, glancing up at the curly haired man. His eyes bore into hers, a slight mischievous glint to them.
"Aren't you going to agree?"
"You want me to tell you that you are in fact, a 'hunk'?" She retorted.
Lando leaned back in his chair. "I suppose I don't need you to. The fact that you've gone bright red says it all."
Y/N felt her blush deepen.
"You're a cocky bastard. you know that?"
"I haven't had any complaints yet."
---------------------------------------------------
The rest of the date passed in a blur of midly flirtatious comments and an abundance of sexual innuendos. Y/N wasn't sure what she had been expecting when she'd agreed to a date with Lando. She'd presumed he'd be polite, and sincere and kind - which he was. But what she hadn't anticipated was his quick wit and his ability to call her out. She liked it. She liked it very much indeed.
Perhaps she'd finally met her match.
By the time they left the restaurant the sun had long set, and a light drizzle had set in.
Y/N felt the breath leave her lungs as Lando took his hand in hers.
"Thank you." He smiled, softly.
"What for, exactly?" She questioned, half unable to focus on anything except the feeling of his warm hand in hers.
"For...this. It's not often I get to meet someone who... makes me feel so normal. Someone who isn't afraid to say what's on their mind. It's nice."
Once again, a blush crept up Y/N's neck and towards her cheeks.
"Well, I am pretty incredible." She winked.
"Oh, shut up!"
"Make me."
Lando stepped forward, and in one breathe his lips crashed into her own. It was messy at first, filled with passion and unresolved sexual tension, before they found their rhythm. She closed her eyes, feeling his strong hands wrapped around her waist. His mouth molded against hers, warmth spilling throughout her body. He was perfect. His mouth moved in perfect timing against hers, as she entwined her hands at the base of his hair, letting her fingers run through his curls. She could stand her forever, she thought, with her body pressed against his, his mouth against hers.
Eventually, Y/N pulled away first, gazing up into Lando's darkened eyes. His lips were swollen and wet - she already wanted to kiss him again.
"Want to continue this date at mine?" She whispered, unable to leave his gaze.
"Say no more."
692 notes · View notes
writerswall26 · 2 months
Text
My Sweet Cairo (Part 1)
Synopsis: The Ravens' Soccer team Captain fell in love for Cairo Sweet
Warning: Slight cursing, other than that, none that I know of (but feel free to correct me)
Words: 3.1k
Masterlist | Next Part
A/N: This is the first time I'm posting here, I hope you enjoy it. Happy Reading
Final year of high school was somewhat a bliss for a student athlete like Y/N. Everything should be perfect from then on. Grades, soccer games, even soccer practice needs to be perfect. If she wants to go to her dream university in California, she needs to do everything by the book. Be a model student, win games as a Captain of the soccer team, be everything. Being strained in a small town in Tennessee after moving a couple years ago, she did not expect to be where she is in life right now. It's too early to tell but she knows what she wants and she will get there however means necessary.
She was not rich by all means but their family got by. Her mom inherited a huge house in Tennessee from her father, then an incident happened and next thing she knows, she's flying from Australia to a place she's never heard of.
"Great job, guys! That's all for today, now go wash up and go to your class." Coach Boris Fillmore dismissed them.
Y/N was the first to the locker rooms. She has literature with Mr. Miller and she's somewhat excited when it comes to that class so she did not want to be late. Unfortunately for her, she's a few minutes late.
"Good Morning, Mr. Miller. I'm sorry I'm late." She said, panting while she sat beside her classmate Winnie Black, a girl from last semester.
Their teacher, Jonathan Miller turned to her with a smile.
"I was just starting, Ms. Y/L/N." He said, and he started the class.
"You smell nice." Y/N heard Winnie whisper beside her. This girl has always been a flirt, especially with their coach.
She turned to Winnie with a smile before flicking a paper in her face. "Stop hitting on me, you creep." She joked, hearing the girl giggle before their attention went to the front to focus on whatever Mr. Miller was teaching them.
"That's all for today's class, I expect your reviews on my desk first thing in the morning before our next class." Mr. Miller dismissed them, clapping his hands together to remove the remnants of the chalk that were stuck in them.
After Y/N finished putting her things inside her bag, she stood up and went to the front to speak with their teacher.
"Hey, Mr. Miller?" Y/N called out, making their teacher turn to her with a smile, he was always smiling.
"Yeah?"
"Here's an excuse letter for all the soccer team. Game's on the night before passing. I can pass the assignment earlier." Y/N said, handing out a paper to Mr. Miller who scanned it.
The older teacher nodded as he raised his head to look at her. "I'll be here. You can pass it before or after you win us that game. Good luck."
"Thanks, Mr. Miller. Have a great day." Y/N said before she started to walk back when she bumped into someone, making their things fall to the ground.
"Holy shit, I'm so sorry." She apologized but immediately stopped when she saw who she bumped into.
Short girl, tanned skin, freckles on her face, brunette hair, and her captivating brown eyes. Cairo Sweet.
"I'm sorry." Y/N said once again before she stooped down to grab all the books down the floor.
She heard a small giggle before Cairo stooped down to help her pick up the books that fell. "Better watch where you're going next time, superstar." Cairo said, smiling as Y/N handed her the books.
Y/N couldn't help but smile. She's had the biggest crush on Cairo since she's first seen the girl walking to school. Their houses are just a few blocks away. Since then, she would always ride her bike to school, hoping to catch a glimpse of Cairo before she got to practice. And without fail, she would pass by Cairo on the road and that would make her entire day.
"We have a game on saturday night. Do you think you could come and watch?" Y/N asked, getting all shy.
Cairo smiled. "I'll check in on my schedule."
Y/N nodded before she walked back, still smiling as she stared at the brunette girl and ended up bumping into someone again. Y/N immediately apologized before turning to Cairo who was already giggling.
"See you saturday night, Cairo." She reminded before she ran off to save herself from further humiliation.
"You're all smiles and shit." Jasmine, a friend from her soccer team said as she sat down in their physics class, taught by their coach Mr. Fillmore.
"I finally talked to her." She informed her friend, her smile not leaving her face.
"With who?"
"Cairo Sweet."
Jasmine howlered before slapping her hard on the arm which made her groan as she rubbed the soar place. "You finally did it!"
"I finally did, huh?" She said, grinning like a crazy love sick girl.
"Y/L/N, Smith, eyes up front!" Coach Fillmore called which made them straighten themselves up, but their knowing looks were there.
Before saturday, Y/N is back in Mr. Miller's classroom to pass her essay. She wanted to be a good student and not take advantage of being a star athlete. Her father always told her to focus more on being a student than being an athlete and she kept that in mind until now.
"You're early." Mr. Miller greeted her as soon as she stepped inside his classroom.
"Good morning, sir. I'm gonna pass my essay since Coach would excuse us the entire day for training. It's semis and it's a huge deal." She said, handing the teacher her polished essay.
Mr. Miller nodded. "Make sure you win us that championship or I'd fail you and tell Coach Boris to do the same in your physics class."
She chuckled. "No, you won't."
"Yes, I will."
"No, you will not."
"Yes, I will."
"Nah, you don't have the balls to do it, sir." She jokes which got her a howler from the incoming Coach, with coffee and biscuits in hands, and a laugh from their literature teacher.
"Training starts in ten, what are you doing here Y/L/N?" Coach Fillmore asked, handing Mr. Miller his coffee and laying down a biscuit on the front table.
"Mr. Miller here is threatening to fail me if we lose the championship, he's dragging your ass out to do so."
Coach Fillmore gave his friend a look before laughing. "That's not gonna happen."
"That's what I'm saying. Because I'm gonna make sure we win that championship and wave that cup in Mr. Miller's face together with my MVP cup." She said confidently and jokingly, making the two older men laugh.
"You're a cocky one, get your ass out here." Coach Fillmore said to which Y/N nodded. "And get a biscuit on the way out, you're gonna need that."
Y/N did get a biscuit and smiled at her two favourite teachers. "Later, Mr. Miller. Be ready to be humiliated when we get that championship."
"She's still not done?" She heard Coach Fillmore say.
"I'll be waiting here in my classroom." Mr. Miller followed.
By Saturday night, Y/N's nerves are on the roof. Their opponent is one of the strongest in the high school league and they're legacy. They've won 4 back to back championships and they were hard on Y/N since she came.
"I'm gonna go get some air before we start." Y/N told Jasmine who nodded.
While she was out praying and pacing, she felt a small tap on her shoulder. And what greeted her made her forget the nerves, only her smile and the presence of the person mattered from here on.
"You came... and you dragged Winnie with yah." Y/N said, glancing at Winne who had a teasing smile as she waved her fingers.
"Actually, Winne dragged me here with her, I did not intend to come."
"Why are you here?" Y/N asked Winnie who rolled her eyes.
"She wanted to watch Coach Fillmore in action." Cairo was the one who answered.
Y/N turned to Cairo with furrowed brows. "Coach Fillmore's not playing."
"But he will be out there frustrated and hot." Winnie finally spoke, making Y/N roll her eyes.
"Lay off him, will you? He's happy, contented."
"He hasn't had me yet." Winnie said with a flirtatious grin, her brows wriggling.
"That's disgusting. How about I hook you up with some of my jock friends? That's more appropriate."
"Mm-mm." She heard Cairo, making her turn to the brunette. "She doesn't like smelly cocky jocks."
"They're all rough and sweaty. I want something delicate and gentle."
Y/N made a face of disgust. "That's incredibly disturbing. And you're public enemy number 1 for me."
Winnie snorted. "You're just saying that because you don't want Cairo to have the same thinking as me."
Y/N kept quiet about that statement. But Winnie just laughed. "Oh boohoo, everyone in this school knows you're whipped for Cairo. Since sophomore years."
"Hence the reason you're public enemy number 1." Y/N said, not caring if Cairo's staring at her with this new found information. The shyness and shame is far out of her body at this point.
"Whatever you say, superstar. Go back in there, I can see my man looking for you." Winnie said, staring at a distance.
Sure enough, Coach Fillmore is out there seemingly looking for her.
"I gotta go. You two look for seats. Thanks for coming, Cairo." Y/N finally said, starting to jog back to the dugout.
"You're whipped!" She heard Winnie shout.
"And you're on my hit list!" She shouted with a smile.
"Good luck!" She heard Cairo saying which made her giddy inside.
"Where the hell have you been?" Coach Fillmore said as soon as she got to him. "Get your ass inside."
The two of them walked back to the dugout for a motivational speech from the coach. When Coach Fillmore was done, she got her stage.
"One thing, I got a girl I really really want to impress seated in one of those stands. And if we lose, I will make you all regret it." She threatened, which got her a whistling and howling from her teammates.
"That's not our problem, Cap." One of her mates said, chuckling.
"Oh, but it will be. If we lose this game, you're gonna get it from me." Coach Fillmore said, making everyone groan. "Now, get your ass out there and get us that win."
"How come you have coach on your side?!" Jasmine whined as they got out to start their game.
Y/N just shrugged as they focused. The announcer called both teams to the field and even without going out, they could hear the loud cheering and stumping. They all lined up side by side with the opponent team to have the anthem before the game started.
The first 30 minutes was a play of getting the ball and staying on the field for sheer amusement. It was boring for most people but for some, they can feel the heat starting to as the halftime comes.
"Y/N!" Jasmine shouted and passed the ball towards her. It's a free goal, she got the ball, ran her ass out and kicked it for the goal.
"And that's the first goal of the night from the Ravens' team captain Y/N Y/L/N!" The commentator shouted as the stands erupt in cheers.
She slid her way and did her celebratory dance with her teams, the cheering getting louder.
"Come on, come on!" They heard Coach Fillmore shouting as well.
The rest of the first half was them defending their post until halftime.
"That's was a great job, guys!" Coach told everyone as they cheered on the locker room for their ten minute halftime.
"They're seething. I saw them glaring at us before we went back." Y/N told their coach who nodded.
"That is why you're gonna be subbed out." He said.
There was a series of complaints but the Coach blew his whistle and they all shut up.
"Coach, you can't let her sit this second half down, they're gonna chew our asses out! We barely managed to defend them!" Jasmine said, as a matter of fact.
"Do you trust me?" Coach asked them, looking at them one by one.
There was a series of humming and yesses.
"Then you have to let me do what I do best. That is to coach you." He assured them.
"We're gonna get our asses handed to us in the second half." Y/N told their coach who walked to her.
"Do you trust me?" Coach Fillmore asked one more time but Y/N turned her head away from the older man. "Do you trust me, Y/N?"
The Captain looked at this coach, reading him. Then she nodded. "Yes, sir." Her Aussie accent coming out.
Coach Fillmore nodded as he tapped her shoulder. "Now, this is going to be the longest 40 minutes of your lives. They're gonna play whatever play they can to win and get back that point. And I want you all to give it your best shot to defend that goal post and that point you all so painfully got."
They did their team hands before they went back to the fields where Y/N sat her pretty ass down, or not. She was standing beside Coach Fillmore, watching her teammates struggle to defend the ball.
"And that is a goal for the Sharks! Great play from their team captain Trish Hudson!" The announcer exclaimed which Y/N groaned in annoyance. It was an easy goal.
The team was right, they did get their ass handed to them not less than 20 minutes in the game. Y/N was pleading to their coach but it fell on deaf ears.
"And that's another goal for the Sharks!" The commentator said.
Y/N was about to go all Lucifer on it when she noticed something from the other team's captain.
"She's limping." She said, making Coach Fillmore turn to her.
"What?" He asked curiously.
"Their star scorer, she's limping. Look." She said, nodding at the other team's captain and sure enough, she was celebrating but she was limping on her right leg.
"You're right. Why is that?" Coach asked, turning to her with furrowed brows.
"Someone rough housed her."
"One of our own? Why do you think so?" He was sceptical
"I know so. They're kinda holding out on a thread out there. An accident maybe?" She said, shrugging her shoulders.
"What did I tell yah?" He said, smiling widely at her.
"Call for the time out, then." She said with a smile and he did call for a time out.
"Alright! We're subbing Y/N back in." He informed their team with a smile.
"Finally!" Jasmine cheered as she let her head fall back.
"What made you change your mind, coach?" One of the teammates asked.
"She's limping." Y/N answered.
"What? Who?" Someone asked.
"Hudson, she's limping. Who rough housed her?" Y/N asked, looking at them one by one. "Come on, no one's blaming yah, she's a machine."
"How would we know? They're boxing us out, if we happened to kick their sheen, it would be an accident." Jasmine reasoned.
"Point taken. Now, go get us that win!" Coach said after the time out and in goes Y/N again.
She was defending the other team's captain and when the ball got to her foot, she immediately ran to the post, was about to kick the ball when she felt a sting on her left leg, making her fall. It was a bad slam.
She immediately stood up but it was still stinging from the cleats. The player got a yellow and a free ball was given.
"You got this Y/N/N!" She heard her team shouting as she closed her eyes, focused on the post, AND GOAL!
"What a wonderful hat trick from the Raven's captain Y/N Y/L/N! This seemed like an overtime coming up!" The commentator said as they celebrated.
"Let's go!" She shouted despite the aching on her left sheen but she did not mind that one bit.
Then the game continued, with 3 minutes remaining on the clock and everyone was doing their hardest to keep the ball alive, no one scoring and the defence was tight.
It was in the Ravens' possession and they were trying hard to get to the post but they were being boxed out. So when Y/N found a hole, she got the ball from her teammate and ran it like there's no tomorrow. She was being chased by 2 players but she mind nothing. The next thing she knows, her left leg was being slammed on, her face was bleeding and the ball was in Jasmine's possession...
"And goal! Right before the clock! The Ravens' take the win for the semi finals! What a goal from Jasmine Smith!" The stands erupted as everyone cheered.
Cairo has been holding her breath since the last five minutes, she's seen how the other team was playing dirty and they're aiming at Y/N. Her heart almost stopped when Y/N fell to the ground right before Jasmine scored. Even with the loud cheering and all, her eyes never left Y/N who pushed herself up and limped to her teammates, her face bleeding.
"That seemed like a bad cut." Winnie said worriedly, but Cairo still never left her gaze on Y/N who got body slammed by her teammates.
When everything was calmed, Cairo pulled Winnie with her to the lockers to check on Y/N and sure enough, she was just done getting patched up.
"That looked like a bad fall." Cairo said, walking towards Y/N who had an ice bag on her left leg and a few butterfly band aid on her right eyebrow.
Y/N's face immediately lit up as soon as she saw Cairo standing in front of her.
"Hey. Did you like the game?" She asked, fixing herself.
"It was boring." Cairo answered with a shrug.
"She was holding her breath the entire time you were out on the field." Winnie chimed in, making Cairo glare at her.
"You were?" Y/N asked, her smile widened at the thought.
"Don't be all cocky, now." Cairo rolled her eyes.
Winnie let out a playful gagging sound before she walked out. "I'll leave you two lovebirds in here while I go find Coach Boris."
"Lay off him!" Y/N shouted again but it fell on deaf ears.
Y/N shook her head before she turned to Cairo who was watching her with a small smile.
"So this is what you do huh?" Cairo said, walking towards her until she was in front of Y/N who was looking up. Despite her sitting down, she's still almost as tall as Cairo. What an adorable sight.
"Since I could remember, yeah."
With hesitation, Cairo held a hand on Y/N's cut, caressing it gently. The taller girl leaned in to the touch, her body relaxing despite her heart pounding in her chest, she thought it was gonna jump out of her body any time soon.
"Is it bad?" Cairo asked softly, making her open her eyes to look at the lovely brown eyes staring at her.
"Nothing I can take." She whispered.
Cairo smiled sweetly before she let her hand fall on her side as she stepped back. Y/N was disappointed and aching to bring that warmth back but she stayed quiet.
"Congratulations on the win. You did great out there." Cairo said with a smile, her cute dimples showing leaned down to give her a sweet kiss on the cheek.
Y/N watched as the brunette turned around and started walking. "Will you be watching the finals? I could use a little energizer."
Cairo turned her head to her with a smile. "I'll think about it." She said and she was out the door in a blink of an eye.
"You're gonna be the death of me, Cairo Sweet."
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hybbart · 10 months
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Day 1904: The spread of sculk is too much to just clean. After salvaging what they could, the ranch is taken down...
Bonus short story below.
Jimmy watched as the last of the house blazed in the twilight. Around the edges of the flames Pearl and Sausage marched, searching for anything flammable that might catch. It was the beginning of winter, and the constant rains had kept everything soaked, but they couldn’t risk it in the middle of the forest. Lizzie had stayed closer as well, securing the last of their belongings to take away in the morning. It was only a few metres down the driveway, but the ranchers couldn’t even get that far.
Tango let out a low growl. His grip on Jimmy’s sleeve tightened, pulling the thick fabric further over his eyes. Puffing up his feathers, Jimmy pulled his rancher closer into his side. Tango only stayed because of Jimmy, and because he couldn’t bring himself to leave the ranch behind. It was what he’d said yesterday, before the first burning. But he couldn’t watch. He could barely help them clear it out before the sledgehammers came in. Sparks flickered through his hair in lieu of tears in his eyes as he kept his face buried.
Jimmy, though… He was entranced. Every crack in the beams that cause a burst of sparks or shift in the wind that billowed the smoke in a new direction. The smoke made his eyes water, but none fell. Maybe he’d finally grown numb. Maybe it looked too different. There was a pile of flaming rubble where his home once was, his first home, but his chest only felt hollow. All that was left with a twitch in his wing, the desire to run and keep far away.
Pity in her eyes, Lizzie approached them from the trailer. Reins were pushed into Jimmy’s hand against his protest. “Take a horse and head back to my house before it gets dark.” She said.
“But-”
“No arguing.” Despite the firmness of her words her voice was low and sad. “You need to sleep in a real bed, Sausage is going to stay here tonight. The last of your things will be fine overnight with us.”
Even after years, Jimmy was never able to argue with Lizzie when she said something reasonable, and he’d given up trying. Jimmy glanced to Tango, who was still hiding from the world in Jimmy’s sleeve. A small tug on his hem was all he got in response. “We’ll be back in the morning with more water.” He assured. They rounded up Bullseye and began the long, quiet ride to Lizzie’s. 
By the time they arrived it was dark, the home illuminated from within the kitchen. Though half the house was cloaked in tarps to save unfinished work from the rain, they’d moved into the completed half already. A bit of smart planning on Scar and Joel’s part.
One of the kids must have spotted their lantern, as the door opened before the ranchers could get down from their horse. Tom came rushing up with Revy on his tail. He took Bullseye's reins from them and led him to the cow pen. It was more cramped than it should be, since the rain had flooded the rancher’s outer pastures. Revy whined and licked at Tango’s hand until he gave the dog a weak pat.
Joel shouted something after him before guiding the men inside. “We just started eating if you want to sit down.” He explained as he took Jimmy’s coat. One glance at Tango was enough to answer.
“I’ll grab some in a bit.” Jimmy tried to smile gratefully, but it came out as a grimace. Joel let them be with a nod, hand held out to the hall down which Sausage’s room awaited.
It was colourful, though the furniture was rudimentary, with a mattress stolen from Scar’s hospital. The bed so much smaller than they’d gotten used to, but Jimmy doubted it would matter for tonight. Norman and Flick waited on the windowsill, and Joel had already set up Jimmy’s breathing machine. It took some coaxing to get Tango to change out of his coveralls - which went into a plastic bag to be washed separate - and take off his arm. Even more coaxing was needed to get him to let go long enough for Jimmy to also change. When Jimmy turned back around the blazeborn had Revy wrapped up in his lap instead. The dog’s tail beat against the bed, happy to be held, but whining, nonetheless.
“Do you think you can eat?” Jimmy asked quietly. Tango didn’t respond. He grabbed only one bowl from the kitchen, unsure he could eat much either without it coming back up. Smoke still clung to their skin and hair, dragging them back to the ranch every time it filled their nostrils, but it was much too dark to run a hot bath. Still, Jimmy knew he had to eat something, even if it was in silence.
Tango migrated behind Jimmy at the end of the bed, tail wrapping around the avian’s waist. Its tuft flicking with agitation. Jimmy could feel the heat rolling off his rancher. “It’s not fair.” He rasped.
Jimmy’s wings flattened. “It was an old wood house. It would have had a mold problem eventually unless we rebuilt completely.”
“But why did it have to be sculk!” He snapped, tail sparkling in Jimmy’s lap. Jimmy tried to smooth it down, but it had little effect. “Why’d it have to make it here?”
There wasn’t an answer, not one Jimmy could provide. Maybe Doc or Zed could explain. It was probably in the well and washing into the surrounding water supply now. Would it be washed away? They should have listened to Grian’s worries back when Jimmy’s feathers had been infected somewhere. Or, maybe, back when they’d first found that infested corpse, they should have done something more. It didn’t matter now that their home was already gone. When nowhere felt safe.
His wings itched while his rancher bristled. Tango couldn’t cry, but he was made to fume. “Why aren’t you angry?”
“There’s no one to be angry at.” Jimmy shrugged. 
“The stupid sculk! The idiots who let it loose! The world!” The bed creaked as Tango kicked off it to pace the small room. Revy whimpered, shifting his nose into Jimmy’s lap. “It’s been half a decade. It was supposed to get better. We live out in the middle of nowhere. And the end of the world still found us! We build our own home and make our own food and do everything we can, and it still comes and finds us!” The blazeborn was consumed in his spiral. Flames burst like firecrackers along his tail, startling Flick when it whipped past the poor cat. 
“Tango…” Jimmy sighed, giving the man a miserable look. When he continued to pace, threatening to scorch their hosts’ possessions, Jimmy finally put a hand up in front to stop him.
A hiss escaped Tango, narrowed eyes glaring at the hand which proceeded to latch onto his shirt and drag him off course. Tango tried to shake it off, but Jimmy kept his hold. “It’s not fair that there’s nothing to fight back against.” He lamented, voice cracking. “I just have to sit here and hope tomorrow it doesn’t get in your wings, or start growing into Revy’s brain, or infest another basement! That it doesn’t get everywhere and take everything. At least the stupid zombie I can punch in the face!” By the end his voice was so shrill and watery Jimmy could barely understand it.
“Me and Revenge are okay. We’re right here.” Jimmy assured, pulling Tango back down beside him. 
It made something finally break. Tango curled into himself across Jimmy’s lap, heaving dryly. Talons raked gently through the blazeborn’s hair. Between sobs Tango mumbled incomprehensibly while Jimmy cooed to keep himself from crying as well. There were too many things roiling just beneath his impulse control. If he let one out, the rest would follow, he was sure. So, he focused on Tango. His rancher needed him.
“I don’t think we’d win if it was someone you had to fight, to be honest.” He whispered half-jokingly as the sobs died down.
Tango stilled, then slumped further into Jimmy’s chest. “I could at least try, instead of this.”
Jimmy hummed. Even if they could, Jimmy wasn’t so sure he would in the moment, and he knew Tango wasn’t all that dissimilar. Unlike Joel or the downtowners, their talent was for running and hiding. That wasn’t the point though, Jimmy knew, so he didn’t argue. “What do we do in the spring?” He asked instead.
“… I dunno.” Tango mulled, head tilted out to look at his thoughts. “It’s not safe to rebuild there.”
“Scar has most of the grain safe, and Lizzie has our animals. We could find another plot, there’s plenty around.” Though, most of them had been stripped of their valuable supplies and building materials over the years or rotted away from lack of care. But the land was still good, and they and Pearl didn’t need much room. 
Would Pearl stay with them? They’d lived with her much longer than without her – if the time before her arrival weren’t so chaotic, he might not recall so well what it was like without her – but she always seemed to keep her distance. A guest, even after she was given her own room. Having someone there to take care of things even when they couldn’t let them grow the ranch to almost thirty cattle, but without her...
That Lizzie’s family would have their own ranch soon was the only thing that calmed the nervous itch in his wings recently.
“We’d have to move closer.” Tango’s voice cut through his thoughts.
“Huh?”
He was no longer curled up, though he hadn’t bothered to remove himself from Jimmy. There was that look in his eyes, where his brain was moving far too fast for Jimmy to keep up. At least it had occupied him with something other than the sculk and fire. “We can’t rebuild around the ranch, we won’t know how bad the infection around it is until next winter, and the water probably isn’t safe. If we rebuilt we’d have to move further west down the mountains towards the city, OR-” Tango raised his hand before Jimmy could protest. “We move closer to the hospital, somewhere around here, or maybe further into the interior on the other side.” 
Jimmy clamped up. They’d all had more than a few conversations about this, between them and the hospital, other settlements, and over the radio. Don’t put all your eggs in one basket. Keep spread out. Far enough that, if something happens, everyone else is safe, but close enough to reach neighbours relatively quick. Like a long chain snaking across the mountains. By now everyone had horses or bikes and access to the recap radio, and it helped them cover more resources. A farm needed land, anyways, especially to keep up with how many people there now were within the network. 
That thought seemed too much right now, though. He could feel the ash in his wings turning to lead. Losing the ranch didn’t just affect them. The cattle were saved but almost all their stores were gone, including two cows’ worth of beef that was to be sent out. It would take weeks, if not the whole season, to get things back in motion, in the months they were relied on most. Would people starve? Would the sculk spread from the ranch? It was a responsibility that seemed natural and seamless just weeks ago, but now felt suffocating.
“I’m not sure-” Jimmy finally replied. “I’m not sure I can rebuild the ranch right now.” Flashes of the burning rubble filled his mind, along with that numbness he’d felt. There was at least three months before they could begin, plenty of time to get over it. But right now… “I don’t even know if I want to.”
He expected perhaps a gasp or shouting from Tango. ‘We’re the ranchers!’ Maybe. But the blazeborn, to Jimmy’s surprise, nodded. Laughed, even. “We’ve been running one for years, why’s it feel impossible now?”
It was probably just nerves. Anxiety. In a few weeks it would wear away. But for now, Jimmy leaned his head against the top of Tango’s and entertained other things. “We could move back to the hospital.”
“That’d drive you insane, and Revy would kill Grian.” Tango chuckled. 
So would you, Jimmy thought. He was sure if Tango had to see more sculk every day he would lose it. “What about visiting Gem and Impulse then?” He suggested instead. “I heard they’ve been doing a lot of forestry. It might be good to learn from them. Or we could finally go to the coast.”
“We never did make it that far, did we?” Tango recalled. “… Why not both? Go back up the mountain and race back down until we hit the coast. Maybe find some more people outside the recap’s range and bring them in.”
“If they’ve survived this long then I doubt they’d want to move now.” 
“They might. Or maybe we can help extend the radio range for them.”
Jimmy smiled. “Maybe we should go east, instead. Find a ranch in the prairies. Be real cowboys.”
“Never been out there, even before all this.” Tango relaxed back against Jimmy, patting his leg for Revenge to come lay across. “You could stretch your wings.”
“That sounds nice.” He admitted with a sigh.
The pair continued to chatter, naming everything and everywhere. Making plans they’d likely never use. Anything to take their mind off the ranch. Just for one night.
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steddielations · 1 year
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Steve doesn’t know if he should say something.
He knows, he obviously knows that Eddie’s been taking his clothes.
It’s like a routine at this point. They’ll be hanging around Steve’s pool or up on his roof getting high, Eddie will say he’s cold no matter what he’s wearing or how warm it is. And if Steve’s not wearing a jacket to give him, Eddie will go ruffle through Steve’s closet and at the end of the night, he always “forgets” to give it back before he leaves.
Steve’s not sure if Eddie’s just doing it to fuck with him or if it’s an actual reason. Like Eddie doesn’t have clothes, or his washer is broken and he can’t afford to fix it, or he doesn’t have money for the laundromat or something serious that Steve does not want to be insensitive about, but he’s seriously running out of clothes.
For fuck’s sake, he’s wearing his Christmas sweater from two years ago, he literally had nothing else in his closet.
He’s starting to think that’s the endgame here, that Eddie’s just waiting until Steve shows up bare ass naked so he can laugh in his face.
Finally, Steve decides to get some answers while they’re hanging out in Eddie’s room, wearing his too-small Christmas sweater that Eddie’s already teased him about.
“Eddie, is… is everything like… okay?”
Steve asks carefully, picking at threads on Eddie’s comforter.
Eddie’s fingers pause on his guitar strings, joint hanging out of his mouth as he gives Steve a curious look.
“You mean just in general or…? Because I’m far from what someone like yourself would consider “okay” but that’s normal for me.”
Steve looks around the room, noting the usual piles of Eddie’s clothes, recognizing a lot of his own. Doesn’t seem like Eddie’s in any shortage of things to wear, and his laundry always piles up. Nothing looks out of sorts, maybe he just hasn’t felt like doing it lately, and Steve doesn’t want to be insensitive if that’s the case either.
He minds his words, “I mean like, are things okay for you? Like around the house, your refrigerator’s working, your washing machine isn’t broken or anything?”
Eddie smirks, “What if they’re not? Is Handyman Harrington gonna put on his little toolbelt and fix it all up?” He always makes light when he senses something uneasy coming.
“Real funny. I’m serious, Eddie. Is there a reason you haven’t done laundry? If you’re not feeling up to it or something, I don’t mind helping.”
Eddie sobers a little then, putting his guitar down and dabbing out the joint in the ashtray on the bedside table, “Yes my washing machine works. Yes I can do my laundry, I’m just lazy as shit and letting it pile up. What’s this about, Steve?”
“Because you—” Steve runs his fingers through his hair, pulling it, flustered, “I’m literally wearing my Christmas sweater in goddamn October because you have all my clothes, dude.”
Something registers in Eddie’s gaze but he quickly deflects, laughing, “Oh is that why? I thought you just pulled out that little number ‘cause it's skin tight, you minx.”
“Is everything okay?” Steve doesn’t let him change the subject, offering gently, “If you need to borrow some money or use my washer or something then—”
“No, no that’s not it,” Eddie shakes his head, smile gone, seeming kind of nervous now, “I don’t need anything like that, Stevie.”
Steve sighs, at a loss, “So why do you keep taking my clothes, Eddie?”
Eddie lets out a small laugh, almost sad, a little bitter, “You’re really gonna make me say it, Harrington?”
“Say what? You can tell me,” Steve scoots closer to him on the bed. He tries to meet Eddie’s gaze, to make sure he knows he can tell Steve. Fuck, they saved the world together, they almost died together, he knows he can tell Steve anything.
So it sort of hurts when Eddie won’t look at him, or answer him, but Steve tries to be understanding.
“Okay,” he sighs, resigned, “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me, but I’m just gonna need some of them back if that’s alright—”
“God, you really are something,” Eddie gives that same bitter laugh. It hurts, mostly because Steve knows there’s something deeper here, something’s hurting Eddie and he won’t tell Steve. “Of course, it’s alright. They’re your clothes, it’s not even… Fuck, it’s not even about the clothes.”
“So you were just fucking with me then?”
Eddie shakes his head, hands tugging his own hair, the way he does when he’s anxious, “No, it wasn’t a prank Steve.”
“You’re trying out a different style?”
“Definitely not.”
“Dustin dared you, or something?”
“No, it’s not like that—”
“So then why did you do it? I don’t—”
“Shit, Steve, I’m— I took them because they smell like you, alright?”
Steve’s mouth opens and closes several times.
“I… You… What?”
Eddie won’t look him in the eyes, sighing sharply down at the bed, “Don’t make me say it again.”
Steve blinks, asking slowly, “You… like the way that I smell?”
Eddie finally looks up at him, a heavy cloud behind his dark eyes as he admits, “Yes I do and not in a friend sort of way. In a way that I’m literally stealing all your clothes like a fucking weirdo just to feel like I’m hugging you at night, or something— I dunno, Steve. It helps with the nightmares.”
Steve’s heart is sort of doing flips in his chest.
That’s another reason why he waited so long to say anything. He doesn’t mind Eddie taking some of his clothes. He likes the idea of Eddie wearing everything that’s his, and not just as a friend helping out another friend. In a deeper way, in a way that he’s been suppressing because he didn’t want to ruin things with Eddie.
“That could still be a friend thing,” Steve says carefully, hoping that Eddie disagrees.
“It’s not a friend thing,” Eddie shakes his head, starting to move away from the bed and Steve’s stomach drops, “I don’t have ‘friend’ feelings for you, Steve. So I get it if you wanna walk out that door and never talk to me again. I’ll give all your clothes back, I shouldn’t have—”
Steve’s hand shoots out to Eddie’s knee, stopping him, rushing to say, “I don’t like you as a friend either.”
Eddie quickly looks up, expression careful, confused, “You— huh?”
“Fuck, that came out wrong, I just…” Steve sighs, bolsters himself up and rubs Eddie’s knee softly but with intent as he asks, “Eddie, can I hug you in a not-friend way?”
Eddie’s eyes flick up and down between Steve’s hand and his face about ten different times, gaze utterly wild, “Are you saying you have feelings for—”
“Just get over here and find out.”
Eddie’s grin mirrors Steve’s as he crawls across the bed. He’s tentative still, careful, so Steve just goes in, wrapping his arms around Eddie and pulling him against his chest. Eddie goes willingly, sliding his palms across Steve’s stupid Christmas sweater, his nose at Steve’s collar, breathing in deep.
Steve chuckles as Eddie burrows in, mumbling something about how good he smells.
Steve loves the way Eddie smells too, nuzzling into his hair, breathing in a hint of shampoo, smoke and something earthy, something Eddie. Steve loves the way he feels too, wants him impossibly closer.
“So why did you need so many of my clothes?” He asks softly after a while.
Eddie doesn’t lift his head when he replies, “Works best when the Steve smell is still strong. Had to get more when I sniffed it all up.”
Steve rolls his eyes, something like fondness tugging at his lips.
“You said it helps with nightmares?”
Eddie nods against him, admitting quietly, “On nights when my uncle works, it gets kinda creepy being alone here. Just having something that smells like you makes it feel like— I dunno, like you’re here with me. It’s weird.”
“It’s not. I wish I would’ve thought of that when my nightmares were bad,” instead of just not sleeping, or calling Robin all hours of the night. “Your uncle works tonight, right?”
“Yeah, he… yeah.”
Steve feels like he should be more nervous than he is, but Eddie hasn’t let up since the second Steve pulled him in, so he feels like he’s on the right track here.
“What if I stayed over? I have a feeling you’ll like hugging my sweater even more when I’m inside it.”
That makes Eddie burrow further into his neck, pressing a smile there.
“Already trying to get into my bed, Harrington? Should wait until at least the third hug for that,” playfully, Steve gives his side a little pinch, both of them chuckling, “Yeah, I’d like it if you stayed.”
Satisfied with that answer, Steve takes a risk, carefully wraps his hand around the back of Eddie’s legs, tugging a little to pull Eddie into his lap. Thankfully, Eddie wants it too. He sits atop Steve’s thighs and just melts into him, both of them sighing against each other.
Steve rubs broad circles across Eddie’s back, soothing the fabric of his yellow sweater that seems to be Eddie’s favorite to steal. He smiles into Eddie’s hair, feeling so warm and buzzing pleasantly all over.
It could’ve been hours gone by, Steve basking in Eddie’s body heat, in the weight of him, condensation forming against his neck where Eddie’s breathing him in. He pulls back a little, studies the blissed out look on Eddie’s face.
He blinks slowly at Steve, “Hey.”
Steve shakes his head, chuckling softly, “Hey, dummy.”
“Dummy?” Eddie parrots, grinning.
“Yeah. You’d rather steal my entire wardrobe than just give me a hug?” Steve squeezes him a little, “What if you wanted to kiss me, hm? Would you steal my chapstick?”
He lets his eyes linger on Eddie’s lips, hoping he gets the hint, takes the subtle offer.
Eddie’s finger toys with his collar, brushing the bone there as he murmurs back, “If you’d just kiss me I wouldn’t have to steal your chapstick to know how you taste.”
Steve tips his head back with a soft laugh before cupping Eddie’s face, “God, c’mere, you idiot,” then leans in and presses their smiling lips together.
It’s sweet at first, just gently pecking each other. Then the kisses last longer, grow deeper, tasting each other. Steve’s mouth falls open in a sigh, letting Eddie lick inside, sucking lightly on his lip.
Kissing Eddie is everything, a deep warmth simmering in Steve’s bones that he can’t get enough of. He wants it all over him, wants to clothe himself in it, burrow inside Eddie and never come out.
He leans back against the pillows, taking Eddie with him in his lap. The movement makes them rub together in a way that has Steve humming against Eddie’s lips, gripping his hips as a new kind of pleasure lights inside him.
Eddie pulls back then, laughing breathlessly.
“Okay,” he nuzzles their noses together, grinning as he mumbles, “We gotta relax or I’m gonna have to steal another pair of your underwear too.”
Steve playfully rolls his eyes as he moves his hands elsewhere, wrapping them around Eddie’s back.
Then, a beat later, it clicks and his brows furrow.
“Wait, what do you mean another pair, Munson?”
Eddie laughs and quickly dives back in for another kiss, silencing any more questions from Steve.
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