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#this book makes me so mad and so happy at the same time and I think that is honestly a good sign
infizero · 9 months
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ok guys i dont wanna be a hater but im gonna be 100% honest i didnt rlly like the nimona movie 😭 I MEAN IT WAS FUN. it was nice. but i feel like it was missing everything that made me like the original graphic novel and honestly by the last like 30 minutes i was kind of just waiting for it to be over so i could read the book again 😭 NO HATE TO ANYONE WHO RLLY LIKED IT believe me when i say i dont think it is bad or anything. but i feel like just sooooo much was changed that it didnt feel like nimona at all to me. idk how to explain it, im sure once i reread the book i’ll be able to put it into words since the original will be more fresh in my mind. i think it was good but as someone who was literally obsessed w the og graphic novel it was honestly kinda disappointing. but i dont rlly care honestly its still rlly cool it got a movie!! 
but in my mind at least it proves that some things dont need to be made into a movie. ppl act like movies are the best form a piece of media can take and if something gets made into a movie then that’d be the peak form of it. but i honestly think nimona works wayyyyyy better in its original graphic novel form. most of the early stuff is way more slice of life lowkey stuff that lets you get attached to ballister and nimona as characters and get invested in their relationship w each other, BEFORE all the angsty final act stuff happens. also there honestly was just a ton of stuff that felt to me like it worked better in the original, like jousting tournament thing instead of the knighting ceremony, nimona being captured and being forced to turn into her “true” form rather than this new version with it just sort of happening bcuz of Emotions, etc. also the movie suffered from a lot of pacing and tone issues imo but the former i think is just from that lack of the slow buildup of their friendship, and the latter is something that i think just worked better in the book. idk again I’LL BE ABLE TO SAY THIS STUFF MORE CONCRETELY WHEN I ACTUALLY REREAD THE BOOK but i dont remember there being so much jokes and goofy shit DURING serious scenes. like iirc in the original during serious scenes it was SERIOUS. but in the movie theres so many unnecessary unfunny jokes and stuff. idk IDK i probably just had too high expectations idk. anyways
#also im kind of mad they changed the ending i know it works similarly but like THE TONE IS TOTALLY DIFFERENT#in the movie ballister goes back to the lair and you hear her voice and he gets all excited and goes ''HOLY SHI-'' and then it cuts to title#which seemed rlly lighthearted and played for laughs and srry but THE ENDING OF NIMONA ALWAYS MADE ME CRY SO IT LOWKEY PISSED ME OFF ToT#IN THE ORIGINAL. he wakes up in the hospital and the nurse like talks to him or whatever and then she comes in again and hes like ?? u were#just here. and shes like no?? and then he sees on the clipboard the nurse left behind the firsttime theres a shark drawing (or smthn)#clearly drawn by nimona. and you see his eyes widen and he rushes out of the room and he runs through a crowd desperately trying to find her#and then he sees her there. in the crowd. and he just stares looking sort of heartbroken. and she gives him a quiet bittersweet little wave#and then she disappears into the crowd. and thats the last you see of her#I FUCKING LOVEEEEEEEEEEEE THAT ENDINGGGGGG IM ACTUALLY SO MAD THEY CHANGED IT#also sorry i will die mad about the climax THE CLIMAX OF NIMONA IS WHAT GETS ME EVERY FUCKING TIME.#THOSE PAGES WITH THE HUGE MONSTER AND LITTLE GIRL NIMONA JUST RIPPING INTO BALLISTER MAKE ME CRYYYYYYY DAWG THEYRE SO GOOD#idk. idk. i cant put it into words but just the overall vibes of the book are so much better imo. i think nd stevenson's style fits the#story reallyyy well and idk if the movie's style rlly does the same. also i wish the movie wasnt as sanded down like the original wasnt like#INAPPROPRIATE. it wasnt adults only. but it had a lot more like. blood and rude humor and stuff. and i miss that#i think the best way i can put it is. the original is the scratchy ever evolving style of nd stevenson it feels raw and unfiltered#and thats why i love it and why it moves me so much. while the movie is much more polished and round and soft and im gonna be honest:#I DONT LIKE IT! sorry. having my hater moment#<- lightheartedly again I DONT THINK THE MOVIE IS BAD i just think that by comparison the book is way better#still incredibly happy for and proud of the whole team that made the movie i think its awesome!!!!#just my personal opinion#serena.txt#nimona spoilers#<- idk if anyone actually needs this but jic
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andinuffishthought · 3 months
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On Thursday I went to trivia with my parents (but played on a different team; we were on three separate teams) and there was a question about the word for the smell after it rains and they ended up giving us the hint that the first part means stone in Greek and the second part means the blood of immortals in Greek. Obviously, as a former PJO kid, I *immediately* came up with ichor. For stone I came up with lith. I knew for a fact that lith meant stone, just not whether it was Latin or Greek, but we had nothing better so we turned in “lithichor.” Lith *does* mean stone in Greek, but petr *also* does, and the answer was, of course, petrichor 😭 [sobbing emoji]
#i was on a team with my elementary school music teacher and his wife who is a former english teacher. she was desperate fir book questions#she rocketed us up to 4th place after a piss-poor game for the first two round and most of the third.#there was a question about marsupials abd the answer was kangaroo. so i got to share the Good Word about kangaroos wild reproductive-#systems. which they were not to happy to hear about 😂#actually this was the same day i reblogged those geography resources. and i had messed around on one for just a little bit of time trying-#to identify central american countries by shape. and then the picture round was 9 countries we had had to name.#alas we only got 4 right but i got all four of them (and I knew it was the uk and not england)#im decent at general idea of where countries are. i can get that for the majority of countries. i was surprised at how bad one of my-#teammates was at geography. but he may have been joking. hes the kind of person who its hard to tell. but in the way where hes smiling all-#the time so anything could be a joke. instead of everything being flat and serious and dry.#knowing the meanings of parts/etymologies of words is genuinely how i remember what words mean. its very useful because you can know what-#words mean without having to look it up/be told#since you know what the parts mean. its also very useful in science since things generally have latin or greek etymologies. so you only-#have to learn the means from two languages instead of… all of them. for the most part anyway.#my synesthesia also falsely confirmed ‘lith’ for me because green mad sense. well l and t are both green. but so is e. so both lith and-#petr have two green letters. also petr is yellow-orange prominent because of the p. but this is why i am bad at ‘it starts with X letter’-#when i cant recall a word (often) because the shade of a letter changes depending on the other letters in a word and colors that arent the-#first letter can be prominent if there is more than one of a similar color (two greens) or if its a tall letter for example#plus the color people often will make ‘petrichor’ a greyish periwinkle color. is much closer to the color of lith for me than to that of-#petr because i is blue-grey. youd think color-grapheme synesthesia would help you remember things. but then it often just messes you up
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crimsonblackrose · 2 years
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Lately as I write about things I don’t particularly care about but don’t mind learning about I feel like I understand Becky Bloomwood. 🤣 I don’t have the shopping addiction, but sometimes you can end up finding yourself in a weird niche for writing. “bored to tears” is accurate description at the moment as I look up specs and wonder how anyone can look at something and go yeah that’s exactly the same as the 2001 model in style but if you look here at this part, that’s similar to the 2011 one, and this, this is the exciting new feature that’s just...not exciting to me. 😅
#mumbling about work#I've realized I've entered the confessions of a shopaholic part of my life#slaps the roof of the top of a brand new car coming out in the near future 'you would not believe how little I care'#though sometimes there's fun little tidbits#or like I actually cover news#and honestly I'm just happy I'm writing because no other department would let me because they're short staffed for admin#which is their own fault#they refuse to hire anyone full time to manage admin tasks or do admin tasks#the one person working full time for admin is overseas and being paid peanuts with 0 benefits#and it makes me so mad#anyway this was brought on by the fact I saw one of the articles I was using as a source was written by a woman#and realized huh I might have enough clips to do this elsewhere#and then the cringe of omg please not this niche#i need to start job hunting again#was the devil's wears prada the same?#honestly I think so if I remember the book correctly#because she doesn't give two figs about fashion either at the start of the book#and honestly both of 'em economics and fashion would throw me for a loop too#but I think...I could care or spin both a little bit easier then checks notes knowing why people are excited over tires#maybe I should more accurately say I've entered the early-mid 2000's rom com journalist era of my life but without the rom or the com#unless it's irony and stress because there's so much of both#that's where I am in my rom com hero journey#which is hilarious because Korea gave me all the k-drama cliches possible#so I feel like I went back a couple steps
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sinning-23 · 4 months
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Calling Them By Their Full Name
OPLA Headcannons! I thought htis was a funny little thing lol. Anyway enjoy
Warnings: slight mentions of nsfw topics but nothing too serious
Sorry for any spelling errors!
Luffy
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-ohhhhh that did not sound like your usual happy, loving voice.
-he knows he fucked up and now he’s hiding from your wrath.
-“MONKEY D. LUFFY, GET YOUR ASS IN THIS KITCHEN. NOW.”
-you could hear a pen drop from how quiet the ship got
-ok so maybe he ate that super expensive, super special dessert you had been saving for a while now. And like, it was going to go bad! All he wanted was a little taste! Than a taste turned into accidentally eating the whole thing.
-He was gonna tell you, honest! But it had proven obvious you found out before he could. He seen you round the corner with RAGe on your face and tears in your eyes.
-"TRAITOR!" You yell, throwing a tired punch to his chest.
-“I’m sorry mami, I’ll find you another one. Promise.” He hums, peppering your face with kisses, squeezing your face between his palms when he did.
-There’s no way you could stay mad at him for long
Zoro
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-whoa whoa whoa why are you so ANNNGRY
-hated when you call him by his full name like that, makes him feel like a child being reprimanded
-“RORONOA GODDAMN ZORO.” You boom, Nami’s jaw dropping at the sound. Even she could tell you were pissed
-he’s the sassiest mf alive so he’ll probably just be like, “who the hell are talking to woman?!”
-“You’re a real piece of work you know that??” You’re still yelling and he wastes no time rolling his eyes at you and grabbing you by your waist, the action shutting you up.
“Wanna stop yelling and be a big girl and tell me what’s wrong?” He teases, that stupid smirk you love falling over his features at your speechlessness.
-It’s not often you say his full make but when you do he makes sure you’ll never forget it that same night.
-“Say my name baby, real loud.” He groans, a hand around your throat to steady spent body as he slams back into you
Sanji
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-I know thats not a cigarette i smell Vinsmoke Sanji."
-awe hell. Yout tone is deadly. he tried he damndest to stomp it out before you rounded the corner but nope.
-You never use his full name like that. Never.
-did he just get chills?
-"Of course not my love!" He lies throigh his teeth but before he can say anything ese you re lips are on his, you fist gripping the fabric of his shirt.
-He knew he was caught, the taste of tobacco mixing with your usual mint. You pull away, smoothing his shirt out with a warning smile.
-"Don’t lie to me again, I’ll always know when you do, Black Leg." You explain , taking the small cardboard box from his pocket and walking off.
-Even though it was ment as a threat, he couldn't help but feel hotter than ususal. God he loved it when you talked all serious to him.
Bonus: Mihawk
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-You know better than to use his full name. Orr to even call him anything besides the usual endearing pet name.
-So when he hears his name called with nothing short of rage, hes trying to figure out who you think you’re talking to.
-"Dracule. Mihawk." You spit, holding the empty bottle in your hand
-Ok so your rage was warented cause he managed to drink the entire vintage bottle of wine you'd been saving...it wasn’t like it was on purpose!
-He doesn’t even bother to look up from his book, just barely giving you a slight glance when you were right in front of him, pointing to the bottle.
-"Id watch your tone darling." he warns, smirking at the way you purse your lips and turn away with a fierce attitude he'd be sure to deal with later.
-“Oh shove it up your ass Dracule.” You scoff, trying to quicken your pace but failing when he’s already behind you, his much larger hand holding your wrist as you yelp.
-His look says it all. You’re screwed.
-So now you’re sitting pretty, bent over and counting each time his hand meets the sore and slightly reddened flesh of your ass.
-“Now, what’s my name again darling?”
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nyctarian · 1 year
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people who are mad the best of seven is gonna """take opportunities from other trios teams""" are funny bc you try and figure out what trio they think """should""" be getting that attention and its like, they hate the dark order hate the best friends dont know that andrade is suspended and already forgot he and rush turned on dragon lee and will bitch if rush teams with butcher and blade and would also bitch about rush and the lucha bros doing mask spots as if thats tonys booking and not something those men frequently do outside of aew hate ospreay style wrestling and dont care that ue isnt an aew team and are doing stuff in the company they actually work for hate trustbusters hate the embassy are sick of bcc+dont care that mox is on vacation and bryan is involved in another story dont care that HoB is being built for a huge return didnt care about the actual match top flight and ar fox had against dt were mad when they thought elite were gonna win and only pretended to care that dt's reign would be treated as illegitimate when nothing will give their reign more importance or legitimacy than the best of 7. just admit that no matter how that match and subsequent booking of dt v elite went you were gonna find a way to complain (bc the issue isnt a team that didnt lose their title getting a rematch but the mere fact that the elite returning in such a huge and celebrated way meant they werent evil the way you wanted them to be) and get over it lol.
#personal#like sorry the trios division needs to be built up this best of seven gives that division time to get important lol#until then the top teams are elite and dt and they will have banger matches#and they wont be 'the exact same' but it wouldnt matter if they were bc i could rewatch just one match on repeat 7 times and still want to#watch it again#plus in addition to bcc if any of the actually active teams had what they were doing derailed to be involved in elite stuff#people who are bitching would also bitch about that the way people who hate dark order will bitch the minute they get involved in elite#stuff again that they are being derailed as if the day before they werent complaining that they are boring and the day before that that the#didnt have any focus or story#did i even miss any trios teams? eddie and pnp if you dont know santana is injured and that he and ortiz arent on speaking terms i guess#the worst match of all out was a trios match with a team i didnt name bc they have insane fans#but lets say we know if the tag team--that its bad when they arent booked in tag matches!!!--in that trios match had the exact same booking#of the best of 7 with either guy they trio'd with at all out or guy who these people are mad wasnt on full gear#the matches would be worse the bad faith actors would still complain and if i or any elite fan said half of what theyve said in complaints#about elite v dt booking we would be called parasocial losers who cant take a joke#if **** got to still have a post squash rematch that he then won after cutting a poor me/actually im great promo#then elite get to have a little trios title feud run as a treat for the deserving fans who will enjoy#like none of the **** fans are actually enjoying the product and no matter how the elite are booked their mere presence sours it for them#so no reason to book to make the people who will stay unhappy happy#they should book to give the fans what they want#wrestling lb
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maybankswhore · 8 months
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𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐂𝐄.
summary: even though jj refuses to admit his feelings for you— he doesn’t want anyone else to have you.
warnings: cursing
prompt: “why are you mad?” “i’m not mad , i just think you can choose better people to kiss.”
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The dynamic between you and JJ was undoubtedly strange. You’d two hold hands , hug for longer than ‘friendly’ hugs usually went for , have sleepovers where you’d cuddle and kiss his cheek. It was like a relationship without the title and without the kissing and sappy lover girl esqe commitment.
But it started to get hurtful. To be the girl that was always there , the only girl that was ever there , and still be seen as nothing more than just a friend. God , how you absolutely hated using the word ‘friend.’
There was hookup after hookup , one after the other. JJ would tell you all about them , seeing nothing wrong in confiding his deepest thoughts with his ‘best friend.’ It was harmless in his mind. If you were too hook up with anyone , he’d want to hear about it. I mean— it’s not like there were guys lining up for you at the door. You were stagnant and clearly into JJ so most guys didn’t bother trying. So while JJ figured he’d be okay with hearing about it— it turned out to make him feel the complete opposite.
All four Pogue’s were sitting around the fire in John B’s backyard as you sat there bashfully , remembering your work shift earlier that morning.
It had started like any other day— the same old faces that come for the same old cup of coffee. Some were a bit less frequent and the tips were all in the same. Business wasn’t necessarily ‘booming’ but it was a moderately profitable day. Today had seemed like any other day— until it wasn’t.
A boy who was not much older than you were had walked in and you swore your heart stopped. There wasn’t many people you looked twice at , beings that you suffered with the cruelty of unrequited love. But this one had made you look twice. His hair was shaggy brown , stopping right above his eyebrows. His green eyes seemed kind , the minute he had mumbled ‘hello’ to you.
You were surprised he asked for your number. The banter between the two of you , and how charming he was seemed to brighten your morning just a bit— and since JJ hadn’t seemed to be confessing his undying love for you any time soon , it seemed to be the right time to try and put yourself out there.
“No way you actually gave some random guy your number.” JJ scoffed from the side of you. He wasn’t sure why hearing you talk about another guy that way made him feel so. . . mad. Sure he cared about you , but never really paid attention to what kind of care it was. He always chalked it up to knowing you his whole life , declaring you his bestfriend for life. But watching the way your eyes danced amongst the flame with a certain girlish glow , his heart beat faster than he had ever felt before.
You rolled your eyes. “Okay and? It’s not like you don’t give out your number at every boneyard party.” You defended yourself.
“She’s right.” Pope pointed at her.
“Yeah I think it’s sweet.” Kiara gushed , hyping it up more than it really was. She knew JJ had a crush on you— anyone with two eyes could see that. He was just too stupid to bother realizing it. “It’ll be like those movies where the girl falls for the guy from the coffee shop.” She placed a hand on her heart dramatically. “That’s like , super romantic.”
“I know!” You sighed dreamily. You had always been such a romantic. Reading , writing , watching it. Those silly little cliche book plots coming to life.
JJ rolled his eyes. “It’s not that romantic.”
“Why’re you being such a hater right now?” You asked JJ , crossing your arms over your chest annoyed. “You should be happy for me! Stuff like this never happens to me.”
JJ began to think back over the years before realizing that you were right. You were always with him or the other Pogue’s and when there were parties , he’d find some girl to mess around with somewhere before finding you so you two could go home together like you always had. He hadn’t remembered the last time you even talked about liking someone. His chest began to ache at that— feeling bad. Of course he wanted romantic stuff to happen for you so why did he feel so defensive about it? Sighing , he shook his head of the confusing feelings. “You’re right , I’m sorry. What was his name?”
He swallowed down whatever he thought he was feeling , doing what he did best ; ignoring the problem until it eventually went away. Because he couldn’t think of you like that. . . The two of you were just friends. You always had been— right?
John B and Pope shared a knowing look. You smiled obliviously and continued.
“Nate.”
“Nate?” John B asked with his face turning red.
“Yeah?”
“As in Nate Montero?” Pope pressed further.
JJ shifted in his seat uncomfortably , looking at you. “As in the guy who cut my hair in Kindergarten?!”
You covered your mouth as you gasped , remembering how much JJ had cried because some kid on the playground cut a chunk of his hair off. The name did seem familiar to you at the time but you hadn’t even remembered then. JJ’s face was scrunched up with disgust while the Pogue’s doubled over into laughter. How ironic.
“It was a long time ago!” You groaned.
“I don’t give a shit! That little bastard cut my hair. The hair I had been growing for years.” He threw his hands up in the air. “You can’t go out with him.” JJ said immediately with his nose turned in the air.
“Oh yes I can.”
JJ raised his eyebrows at you , taken aback by the seriousness in your voice. Something bubbled inside of him— something he couldn’t quite figure out. Whatever it was , though , he didn’t like it. “That’s like a betrayal!” He said after a few seconds.
“John B literally dates Sarah Cameron!” You pointed out , giving him a soft smile of apology when he shot you a look. “Sorry but it’s true.”
“She isn’t wrong.” Kiara chirped up.
“You’re literally friends now!” Scoffed John B.
“Yeah— now.” You pointed out. “But at first there was hella beef that was deeper than getting your hair snipped in Kindergarten.”
John B groaned. “Can we not bring me up into this? This is between you and JJ.”
“There’s nothing between me and JJ—” you ignored the way your stomach began to hurt at that. The words only fueling your desire to see the guy , Noah , from the coffee shop again. “I’m seeing him.”
“Y/N this conversation isn’t over!” JJ called after you once you picked up your beer can and started walking towards the house. You didn’t bother looking back , throwing him the middle finger as you disappeared behind the doors.
JJ’s eyes turned to slits and looked at the Pogue’s with an annoyed expression. “Can you believe her?”
“Believe what? That she finally finds a guy attractive other than you?” Kiara folded her arms across her chest. “If you aren’t going to be with her then let someone else who wants to be and be happy for her.”
JJ furrowed his eyebrows at Kiara. He glanced at Pope and John B before looking back at her. “Y/N/N does not find me attractive.” He waved her off.
“Oh please.” Pope muttered under his breath.
“I say we just let this play out.” John B stretched out with a yawn.
“This could end badly—” Pope pointed out.
“Or JJ will finally get his head out of his ass.” Kiara snorted.
JJ stood up in front the Pogue’s with an uneasy look. “I don’t know what you’re all talking about but the only way this ends badly is if Y/N decides to go ahead with that guy. He’s bad news.” He huffed , running back into the Chateau.
“He’s so jealous.” John B smirked while shaking his head.
“Very.”
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It had been very tense between the two of you. You were so mad at him for thinking he had any right to tell you who you could or couldn’t date— especially after years of pining after him , and watching him go through girl after girl without so much as glancing your way. You weren’t going to keep hoping for someone to look at you anymore.
Nate had texted you to meet up and you did. It was a nice date , nothing too fancy or mind blowing. Just a simple date. One that ended in a small goodbye kiss on John B’s front porch— the place you normally stayed on on the weekends when your parents were out and about , barely thinking twice about you.
You were glimmering when you walked back in. You figured the Pogue’s would be in the backyard like they always were , so you breezed past the living room and into the kitchen for a glass of water. Your thoughts were everywhere because you did like Nate , and the kiss left you breathless— but it wasn’t like what you thought it would be. Though , none of the past kisses ever were. There was always something missing , making you rethink them.
“Oh so the traitor is back.” JJ strolled into the kitchen without looking at you , his tone hard.
This had been the first time in the past two days he bothered talking to you. You figured he was just pissy you decided to go out with Nate after all , despite the silly Kindergarten incident.
“Why are you mad?” You put down your water bottle and stepped in front of him so he couldn’t look away from you.
“I’m not mad. I just think you could choose better people to kiss.” JJ said. His fingers dancing towards the side of her face.
You felt your breath catch in your throat. Pulling your face away from his hand , you sighed. “If this is about what happened in fricking Kindergarten—”
JJ grabbed your face in his hands , your cheeks hollowing out between your teeth as he did so. You looked at him through fluttering eyelashes , your cheeks burning up. “This isn’t about what happened.” He murmured to you.
This whole conversation had him thinking. That feeling he was feeling— it wouldn’t go away. He had tossed and turned all night that night because his stomach was so sick thinking about you with someone else. He didn’t know why it never occurred to him that you’d eventually find someone else. He didn’t know why he wasted away all this time being with girls who didn’t mean anything. JJ wanted to kiss you. And to hold you like more than a friend. He didn’t want you with Nate— or with anyone. And he felt so bad about never realizing it , and always pushing away those feelings you’d make him feel because he was scared to lose you.
But he couldn’t lose you to someone else.
“I don’t want you to kiss Nate. . .” JJ breathed , inching closer to your face. Your eyes were wide with shock as you watched him , your heart beating crazily in your chest. He still held your face in her hands , watching your reaction to his words. He only hoped that you’d want to kiss him back.
“JJ—” you mumbled. “What’re you—”
“I want to kiss you.” JJ told you , swiping his thumb on your bottom lip. “Only if you’ll kiss me.”
Your heart began to race as you studied JJ’s face. The crush that you had buried inside of you for years was bursting in your chest , making friends with the butterflies in your stomach. Your mouth went dry as you looked at him. JJ left go of the hold he had on you to simply cup your cheek.
“JJ don’t be mean.” You whispered. “If you’re doing this just because I went out with Nate—”
“This isn’t because of Nate.” JJ cut you off. “Not completely , anyway. It was at the beginning but I couldn’t stop thinking about you. His hands on you.” His left hand slithered down to your waist , snaking around it. “Your lips on his.” His other hand pulled at your bottom lip again. “I got jealous.”
You stared at stunned. “Jealous?”
“I think I like you , Y/N.” JJ sighed to himself , looking at you sweetly. “And I think I’ve always known but I just ignored thinking it would go away.”
You swallowed thickly looking up at him. “Did it?”
“No.” He shook his head. “It didn’t.”
“Then. . .” you took a deep breath and stood taller , clearing your throat to sound more confident. “Then I think I want you to kiss me.”
With wild eyes , JJ was treading a line he wasn’t sure it was safe to cross. But the way his heart burned inside of his chest , his ears ringing and pulse getting faster— it would be worth whatever outcome if it meant he got to feel what it was like to kiss you. JJ got closer to you , so close that you felt his breath fan your face. “Do you think or do you know?”
Quietly you weighed your options in your head. There were so many things going through your mind , telling you a million different things. But the way you felt was telling you to kiss him. Finally. After all this time— you wanted to make him wait it out like you had for so long. But you couldn’t control yourself. “I know.” You took the initiative to connect your lips to his , tired of this waiting game. It was either now or never.
He kissed you back immediately. His hands finding home around your waist. His knees felt weak and your heart felt mushy. As your head tilted to the side , a sense of relief fell over you. This was it. This was why no other kiss had ever compared or felt like it mattered. Because it was JJ , it was always JJ.
He was your missing piece to it all.
JJ was the first to pull away , breathless. He felt crazed as he looked at you with eyes wild. Nothing had ever felt like this with him— no other girl could ever compare to you.
“Like I said. . . this ended badly!” Pope bursted out , practically falling out into the kitchen. Kiara and John B rolled their eyes at him.
“Finally!” Kiara groaned. “I was so sick of the sappy back and forth shit.”
“I for one , agree.”
You hid your face in your hands embarrassed while JJ smirked triumphantly. “I have a full head of hair and I got the girl.”
“I hate you.”
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₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞
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pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader
summary: ❝the summer’s hot, and i’ve been waiting for you all this time.❞ — rafe finally comes back home from his two-month long family vacation, surprising you in the middle of the night.
warnings: established relationship, ward overhears you and rafe on the phone, dry humping, heavy petting, oral (f receiving), face sitting, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, unprotected sex
word count: 2.3k
a/n: it literally makes me so happy when i see the feedback you guys give me, especially when you show your support by reblogging or simply liking. i love and appreciate every single one of you <333 series masterlist
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“you’re actually lying.” tears were already forming in your eyes as rafe spoke on the other line. “i wish i was, baby. we were supposed to fly back in this morning but some weather shit got in the way, so we’re kinda stuck here until they let us know when there’s another flight available.” you sighed, trying your best to keep your voice from shaking. “have you asked the airport people already?” there was a slight pause before rafe answered.
“they said it could be weeks since the hurricanes here get pretty crazy.” weeks?! you thought you could die right now. “i’m so mad my parents didn’t let me go.” the tears were falling now. you and rafe had never been apart for this long. with all the built up anticipation, you couldn’t help but get youreself excited and hopeful about seeing him today, just for all of it to come crashing down with a single phone call. “i wish you were here too, babe. i got you a bunch of stuff from the shopping centers here, i think you’ll love it.” you wanted to cry harder because of how sweet he was.
“aww, you didn’t have to do that for me, baby.” you cooed, your heart fluttering in your chest when you heard the smile in his voice. “at least you’re going on winter vacation with me.” you nodded, trying to stay as positive as you can. “that’s true. i can’t help but to think my parents are trying to torture me or something,” you laughed, “they heard the words ‘shared hotel room’ and freaked out.” rafe shook his head even though you couldn’t see him. “they did, right?” he glanced at the tv, the weather report still the same.
“yeah, but rightfully so i guess. could you imagine if we shared a room for two months?” you bit your lip at the idea. “it’s a good thing we didn’t tell them that we’d have a whole cabin to ourselves in december.” you shut your eyes for a moment, wishing so bad that you could speed up the time. “you need to come back to me already. i’m sad and horny.” rafe snorted at your words. “hey, at least we know we could have amazing phone sex.” before you could respond, you heard what sounded like ward in the background.
“come on, rafe. seriously man?” you gasped, shooting up from your bed. “rafe! i thought you were somehwere private!” your cheeks were on fire with how hard you were blushing right now. “tell ward i said hi.” rafe did as you asked, a muffled ‘hey, sweetheart.’ sounding on the other line. “wheezie and sarah there?” as if you could be anymore mortified right now. “nah, they went to a gift shop with rose.” thank, god. “well, i told lia that i’d go with her to the beach for a little, so i better start getting ready.” you put him on speaker, opening your drawer that had all your bikini’s in it.
“all right, i’m gonna let you go babe,” rafe sighed, “i’ll update you as soon as i find something out.” you chose a top, and grabbed a pair of jean shorts as you started changing. “okay. i’ll see you soon, love you.” you smiled when he kissed the mic. “i love you more, i’ll talk to you later.” you hung up, feeling slightly better after hearing his voice. it didn’t take you long to pack your beach tote, lia picking you up soon after.
you spent the rest of the day with your friend, both of you taking pictures and reading your books. “wanna stay the night at mine? i could really go for some pizza right now.” lia pouted as she pulled into your driveway. “i wish. i have to go to breakfast with my family tomorrow.” she put the car in park, looking at you apologetically. “oh, that’s right! it’s okay, hang tomorrow afterwards?” you grabbed your bag from the backseat. “for sure. i’ll call you when i get home.” she nodded, in which you waved. “hey! send me the pictures we took!” you shouted as she rode off.
“hey, guys,” you greeted your parents as you closed the front door behind you. they were curled up on the couch watching a movie. “hey!” your mom whispered, not wanting to wake your father who was resting his head on her lap. they always looked so cute together. “i’m gonna go shower. goodnight.” you walked past them, eagerly waiting to check your phone to see if you had any messages from rafe.
[2:32 PM] loml <3: still the same bs. i’ll try to call you again tonight
you gasped at the timestamp. that was hours ago. it was about ten o’clock now, and you were definitely feeling the effects of your activities today.
[10:02 PM] y/n: superrr sleepy rn, i’ll still answer if you call bb
you waited until the message delivered and quickly got in the shower. after washing your hair and rinsing yourself off, you changed into an oversized t-shirt and called it a night. you don’t know how long you’d been asleep for, but your eyes were fluttering open as you felt your bed dip beside you.
your heart dropped when you saw a dark figure looming over you, a loud gasp escaping your lips. before you could scream, a large hand covered your mouth. your eyes widening as you starting hitting the person against their chest. “baby, it’s me! it’s me!” you stopped as soon as you heard his voice, rafe’s hand slowly moving away from your face. “what the hell!” you whispered, immediately throwing your arms around him. “how are you here right now?” you reached over, turning on the small lamp on your nightstand.
the soft light barely did anything to illuminate the space, but your heart skipped a beat once you could make out his features. you stared at each other for a few moments before he took your lips into a searing kiss. “fuck, i missed you so much.” he leaned all his body weight on top of you, the feeling nearly bringing you to tears. “two months, rafe. never again.” you scolded him, letting him settle between your thighs. “my dad pulled some strings and we were able to come back today. just landed like an hour ago.” he could barely talk as he kissed you inbetween his words.
the reality of the situation made you stop, your body freezing underneath him. “what?” he looked at you confused. “my parents are here! how did you even get in?” you scrambled to get up, locking your door before you could get caught. when you turned around, rafe was laying flat on your mattress, a sliver of skin poking out from under his t-shirt. “my key. they were knocked out cold on the couch, so i just snuck up here.” he propped himself up on his elbows, his eyes falling to your bare thighs. “you wearing anything underneath that?” you smiled before shaking your head and lifting up the hem of your shirt teasingly. “no.” rafe’s gaze darkened as he watched you straddle him.
“why?” his hands ran up your thighs, squeezing the flesh before they settled on your hips. you shrugged. “just wanted to be ready for you.” rafe could already feel his cock hardening with your words alone. “yeah?” he dragged your hips against his, your naked cunt rubbing against his shorts. “fuck,” you whimpered, letting your head fall to the side as you balanced yourself on your palms. “i missed hearing that. missed seeing you like this.” he took the shirt off of you, marveling at the sight of your bare figure on top of him.
“i want you to get yourself off on me,” rafe splayed a hand over your stomach, “wanna watch you move.” you grabbed his hand, placing his middle and ring fingers in your mouth, your hips grinding against him. “you’re so fucking perfect, ‘don’t know how i made it two months without you.” you moaned, sucking his digits while you started a steady rhythm. you knew you were overly sensitive because of how long it’d been without him here, but you couldn’t help the aftershocks that came with your clit rubbing against his hard on.
rafe groaned, knowing he wouldn’t last too long like this. while he spewed out the most filthy things you’ve ever heard, you sped up, desperate to reach the high you were so close to. rafe screwed his eyes shut, stopping you just before he could cum in his shorts. the sound of both of you trying to catch your breaths filtered throughout your room as you blinked down at him. “i was so close,” you pouted, clenching around nothing. “ride my face.” your eyes widened. “what?” rafe grabbed you by your waist, a yelp leaving your lips as he held you above his mouth.
you shuddered when you felt his breath fanning against the inside of your thighs. “are you su- fuck!” you cried when you felt his tongue where you ached for him the most. “oh my god, rafe,” he was quick to interwine his fingers with yours, holding you tightly so you couldn’t move away. this was new for both of you, but rafe was quickly realizing that watching you with your jaw slacked and greedily chasing his tongue with your hips was becoming his new favorite view.
he moaned against your soaked cunt, the slight vibration making your eyes roll back. “r-rafe!” your hips stuttered as you felt the sweet release of pure euphoria wash over you. rafe held you tighter against him, his tongue attacking your clit as you shook uncontrollably. two months of phone sex could never compare to the real thing, your breaths becoming labored as rafe laid you down. “i’m gonna fuck you senseless.” rafe kissed you, your wetness still on his lips as he did so. just as you pulled away, a knock sounded from your bedroom door.
“y/n, is everything okay honey?” your eyes widened as rafe took the opportunity to roll one of your nipples between his fingers, your face burying in his chest to muffle the moan that left your mouth. “i-i’m okay! just.. cramps!” rafe trailed sloppy kisses across your neck, smiling against your skin as you struggled to formulate a single sentence. “aw i hope you feel better, call me if you need anything, love.” you waited until her footsteps receeded down the hallway before you smacked rafe playfully. “you’re terrible!” you laughed.
he took off his shirt, his muscles on full display as he discarded his shorts. fuck, he was glorious. “yeah, but you love me.” you smiled as he slotted himself between your legs, shivering once you felt his cock sit between your folds. “i do love you.” rafe ran his fingers through your hair, caging you between his arms as he slid into you, a moan sounding from both your mouths. you stretched around him so deliciously, rafe’s head resting in the crook of your neck.
“is that my favorite body wash?” he looked up, pecking your jaw when you nodded. “something told me to use it tonight.” your eyes fluttered shut when rafe pulled out, pushing back into you as he hooked your thigh around his waist. “this is all i could think about over there,” he sighed, “i just wanted to feel this perfect pussy squeezing around me.” you mewled at his words, your nails digging into his shoulders. “did you think about me, baby?”
you nodded, your back arching into his chest. “fuck, yes. i missed having you on top of me, ‘missed taking your cock.” he groaned, lightly wrapping a hand around your neck as his pace sped up. rafe adjusted you so your head was resting on top of his arm as he kissed you roughly. his thrusts were unforgiving, soon the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in your room. with the way the head of his cock was stroking that soft spot inside you, you couldn’t bring yourself to care if you were being too loud. you started meeting his thrusts, your clit meeting his pubic bone.
“you’re doing so fucking good for me.” he panted, his breath fanning your cheeks. you wrapped your arms around his neck, crying out into his skin. “don’t stop!” he covered your mouth, shushing you as he fucked into you relentlessly. “i got you, baby. ‘gonna fill up this pretty cunt with my cum.” you whimpered, tears welling in your eyes as you felt your second orgasm nearing. with a couple more thrusts, you found yourself falling over the edge, your climax hitting you in waves of pure ecstasy. “oh, fuck,” rafe’s jaw was clenched as he suppressed the groan that threatened to rip itself from his throat.
you reveled in the feeling of his seed spilling into you, his eyebrows knitting in pleasure as he continued to move sloppily. “fuck, i don’t think i ever came that hard before.” he removed his hand, allowing you to take a full breath. you sighed, curling into your boyfriend as he plopped down beside you. “i missed this the most.” he pressed a kiss to your temple, his fingers tracing shapes into your side. you smiled softly, draping an arm across his torso. “i could fall asleep like this..” rafe’s voice was hoarse, both of you yawning at the same time.
“me too,” you started, “i’m gonna go grab some water real quick, i’ll be right back.” he pulled you down for another kiss before letting you get up. you poked your head outside your door, slipping on a shirt and a pair of underwear before slipping out. you tiptoed down the stairs, walking into the kitchen where your mother sat with her laptop. “oh-” you smiled awkwardly, getting two water bottles out of the fridge. your mom looked up at you from her spot at the kitchen island.
“i take it that rafe is back from vacation? you’re lucky i left the volume up on the tv.”
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55sturn · 1 month
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ FEEL IT ON THE WAY HOME
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↳ masterlist!
↳ summary: in which matt finds himself growing jealous of y/n's friendship with nathan, despite matt not officially being with her, however she sees his deepest worries and assures there's no one else for her.
↳ pairings: matthew sturniolo x fem!reader
↳ warnings: swearing, jealous!matt, snide comments here and there from matt (basically passive aggressive!matt), relationship anxiety, angst if you squint.
↳ author's note: if you tilt your head, step back a couple feet, and squint your eyes you’ll see it’s based if you are in love by taylor swift.
THIRD PERSON POV
if anyone were to ask matt, when he fell in love with you, he'd tell you somewhere between junior and senior year. but deep down he knew that he was lying. he knows he fell in love with you the moment he met you.
the two of you met during the summer between eighth and ninth grade. it was the one and only summer he let his mom send him away to summer camp with his brothers. he decided that he'd go once, just for the memories.
and boy did he make some memories.
FLASHBACK
"matt c'mon! they're letting us have a free hour on the beach!" chris exclaimed loudly as he jumped on his brother's bed, disturbing the middle triplet who tried to peacefully nap during their free hour.
"chris go away!" matt grumbled, pulling the pillow over his head, keeping away from chris until nick came into the room, ordering matt to get up. matt obliged, but not without complaint.
the three boys made their way down to the beach. chris immediately took off toward the makeshift court where a few boys his age were playing basketball. nick took off toward alahna who attended the camp as well.
matt was about to follow nick when he spotted a girl, probably his age sitting alone at table drawing away in a sketchbook.
"hey, why are you by yourself?" matt greeted, sitting across from her, feeling the need to keep this girl company.
"i just moved to boston and my mom sent me to this stupid camp to make friends in time for school but i'm mad at her so i'm not gonna make any friends." the girl replied, not taking her eyes off her book as her pencil scribbled furiously. when she realized he wasn't leaving, she let out a dramatic sigh and looked out at the water.
"well, i'm matt!" he laughed, noticing how stubborn she was about not looking at him.
"i'm y/n." she replied, finally looking at him and felt her face grow warm, but she thought that was gross so she chalked it up to the summer air against her skin.
a week later, the girl left summer camp with four new friends, despite her penchant for being alone.
when the school year began, y/n quickly found that she was attending the same high school as the triplets. she was quick to fall into their routine, developing a close relationship with their closest friends as well. almost immediately fitting into their dynamic and group.
however, y/n got rather close with nathan almost immediately after meeting him. she opened her arms and let nate in without fighting, she felt a strong brotherly tie to him.
however matt didn't know that she only considered him a brother, his jealously stewing over time. he knew he was falling in love when he wanted to punch nate for stealing y/n from him. he knew he was falling in love when he was angry when he should've been happy when y/n found her first boyfriend.
he knew he was falling in love the moment he met her.
FLASHBACK OVER
in the two years since y/n, the triplets, alahna, and nate have graduated, matt hasn't been able to pinpoint the exact moment his relationship with y/n changed.
they went from awkward teenagers trying to navigate uncomfortable and unfamiliar feelings that brew in the pits of their stomachs every time they met their best friend's eyes, to people testing the waters of what is considered a normal friendship while cuddling, spending the night with her chest to his back and his arm wrapped tightly around her waist.
they went from best friends teasing each other relentlessly over not having their first kisses only to become each other's first kisses. they kept the terribly awkward, clashing of teeth, tongue in the wrong spots type of kiss, to themselves.
however, despite their first kiss being terrible, once they graduated and the triplets moved to los angeles, y/n and matt had a tendency to share more kisses every time they convinced her to come out to los angeles or whenever the triplets flew back home to boston.
matt depended on those close, personal moments of intimacy with y/n. they made him feel like he had her in his life in a way that no one did. she was special to him, his first ever love. he didn't want to give that up. and so, he and his brothers were on their way to boston, partly because they missed home and mostly because matt needed to see her.
"so are you gonna tell her?" nick hummed, looking at matt who sat in the middle seat of their section on the plane, his eyes glued to his phone as he watched the minutes tick by, his right knee bouncing rapidly as he waited for the plane to land.
"huh? tell who? what?" matt replied, a delayed reaction to nick's question, the pounding in his chest travelled to his head, causing his reaction time to be slowed.
"he asked if you're gonna tell y/n that you've been in love with her for like ever, bozo." chris snickered, earning a swift smack to the stomach, causing chris to double over groaning slightly. okay so maybe, matt's reaction time wasn't delayed.
"shut up chris. i'm not in love with her."
"that's bullshit, and you know it." nick mumbled, earning a glare from matt who just slumped back in his seat, plugging his airpods into his ears, trying to ignore his brothers and their ridiculous teasing for the rest of the flight. the flight couldn't go by fast enough for matt, who was subconsciously biting his nails as he listened to playlist that y/n had made for him. as the boys struggled to but kept busy, the flight was soon over, all three of them rushing to grab their carry/ons and get off the plane.
as the triplets headed toward their house, they grew nervous. all their friends and family knew they were coming home and were awaiting their arrival. matt felt his nerves calm slightly when he heard y/n's laugh from the open window in the kitchen.
as he pushed through the door, he felt his heart crumble to pieces deep in his chest. seeing y/n, thrown over nate's shoulder laughing loudly as he tickled her, bright matching smiles on their faces, made his words and feelings get stuck in his throat as it ran dry.
matt scoffed slightly and rolled his eyes as y/n looked up from her place over nate's, smiling brightly and squealing slightly as nate placed her on her feet. matt ignored the bitter jealously rising up his throat as she wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek briefly.
"i missed you." y/n whispered as she pulled back slightly, the look on her face sending a stubborn, unwavering warmth through matt's chest that he tried to fight hard to fight.
"yeah, you too." matt hummed, hardly looking at her as he stared nathan down, a half-assed grin on his face while he dapped his childhood friend up. as y/n hugged nick and chris, she felt eyes staring into the back of her head. turning around, she met matt's angry stare along with nathan's blissfully unaware, cheesy and lopsided grin.
"can we go to denny's? i could so fuck up some of their waffles right now." y/n laughed, looking to matt, her eyes softening as she silently pleaded for the boy in front of her to drive the group to denny's.
"yeah lemme put my shit away and we can go." matt sighed, the hardened front he masked himself with easily cracking and crumbling down completely around his feet under the soft stare that had him weak in the knees every time he looked her way.
as he quickly shuffled his suitcase and duffel bag up the stairs to his room, he felt his mind swarm with conflicting emotions and ideas, unsure if he wanted to punch his best friend for carelessly flirting with y/n as if his feelings weren't painfully obvious or if he just wanted to settle in security, knowing that he had y/n in a way no one else did.
sighing, he returned back to the group of people waiting for him, knowing if he stayed in his room, someone would come  looking for him and he didn't have the nerve to talk about the feelings swirling beneath his ribcage.
the group piled into the van, chris, nick, and matt all in their respective spots, with nate and y/n squished beside each other, giggling amongst themselves as they talked about god knows what.
"so y/n, did you finally ask out that guy you said you were into?" nick prodded, tilting his head inquisitively as he eyed the way her and nate interacted.
"wait, did you think that guy was nate?" y/n laughed loudly, not missing the things nick said with a look.
"i mean, y'all act like a couple." nick chuckled as y/n rolled her eyes.
"yeah you do, it's fucking annoying." matt whispered to no one in particular as his eyes flicked to y/n in the backseat, however chris caught his comment and quietly giggled to himself. the rest of the drive to denny's consisted of the three in the back bickering over shit while chris watched matt stew in his jealousy from beside him, smirking to himself.
as the group piled into the restaurant, they all ordered their preferred forms of breakfast despite it being nearly two in the morning. the group giggled amongst themselves, save for matt who couldn't stop glaring at nate. y/n had picked up on and it made her feel unsettled, she couldn't pinpoint why he'd be upset.
as everyone finished paying for their food, y/n pulled matt aside, her hand on his arm as she looked up at him.
"what's goin' on up there?" she asked, her voice soft and calm, hoping it'd ease matt into talking, and help her get a sense of understanding what he was feeling.
"it's nothing, y/n." he muttered, his voice cold and slightly unsteady as he pushed her hand off his arm.
"matt, c'mon i know you better than you think i do, tell me what's bothering you. you've been acting weird since you first walked in the door. nate's noticed it and so have i."
"why don't you just go bother nate about it then? you seem to be much closer with him anyway." he snapped, rolling his eyes are the shock that fell on her face, before feeling his heart sink as her eyes held something that resembled hurt.
"that's what this is about?"
"y/n, drop it please."
"no matt, i thought it was clear that i don't see anyone else the way i see you."
"well with the way you've been acting with nate it makes me wonder what we actually are. i'm normally not the type to get jealous but jesus christ, i can't help it. you're an amazing girl, any guy would be lucky to have you as their girlfriend or whatever we are and i sometimes wonder why you're into me." matt whispered, unable to keep his feelings at bay any longer with the way she was looking at him, her head tilted, nothing but love and concern in her eyes. she made him feel safe, like he could tell her his deepest emotions and she would listen intently, providing safety for him.
"matt,-" she whispered, stepping closer to him and cupping both sides of his face, her thumbs dragging along his cheekbones as he leaned into her touch, his eyes falling shut briefly.
"there is absolutely no need to worry at all, i'm yours, okay? i-" she paused, taking a deep breath before continuing,
"i love you, matt. i've never looked at another guy the way i've looked at you. not once, and frankly i don't want to. there's no one that can understand a simple look from me the way you do. there's no one who knows me better than you, no one else who's ever taken the time to understand me and be patient with me the way you have. i am yours, and i hope that you're mine. okay?"
"okay." he whispered back, nodding softly as she leaned up, pressing her lips to his in a gentle but passionate kiss that meant they had a mutual agreement, that they were each others, and that one kiss, that one simple kiss that meant they understood each other, was more than enough for matt.
the two broke apart at the sound of giggles, turning to find the rest of the group standing behind them.
"what the fuck was that?" chris exclaimed, genuinely shocked that his brother and his best friend were kissing, and seemingly together.
"a kiss, dumbass."
"yeah but is this the first time or?"
"chris you idiot, do you not ever read between the lines? it's obvious they've been together for a while now." nick replied, his tone incredibly dull, like matt and y/n being together was the most obvious thing.
"i love you too, y/n." matt whispered as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side, and pressing a kiss the side of her head as they walked toward the van.
falling in love with your best friend is never easy, it's complicated and messy and leaves behind a lot of doubt but y/n was worth every bit of complicated, every bit of mess left behind, y/n was worth it all to matt.
and that alone, was enough to put his worries and self doubt at ease. because as long as y/n was there to reassure him that she was his, he knew they'd be okay.
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lovedazai · 1 year
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WHEN YOU LEAVE TO GO ON A LONG, DANGEROUS MISSION
ft. dazai, chuuya, ranpo
p.s.! sending hugs + kisses to the lovely anon who requested <3 !! sorry i kinda got carried away :’)
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DAZAI
when he’s strategizing and realizes you’re the best suited member of the agency for the mission, his heart drops. he knew being in a relationship with his coworker would come to this eventually, but he’s always been selfish.
he didn't know how he could make it that long without you. he's used to keeping an eye on you, always listening behind his headset, but this time you'd have to be on your own and he hates it.
he pores over the details of the case, forcing the logic to piece together that you’d be okay. he desperately tries to ignore the voice in his head telling him that you’d be taken away from him just like everyone else
it takes every part of him not to cling onto you when he kisses you goodbye. he sends you off with a smile, and it drops as soon as you’re gone, a stiff frown settling in its place.
there’s a noticeable emptiness without you around. his futon, just barely able to fit the two of you wrapped around each other, suddenly feels too big, and he can’t sleep.
instead, he stares at the moon and wonders if you were as restless as him, looking at it too. it made him feel connected to you, even if you weren’t doing the same.
he talks to you about his day as if you were next to him, just to ignore the crippling loneliness he thought he’d starved off for good.
he acts out more than usual, overcompensating for his lack of attention, even if it came in the form of a hard smack to the head from kunikida.
his stomach gurgles angrily at him, and he realizes there isn’t anyone around to make him a proper dinner anymore. he can’t be bothered to cook and falls back into old habits, opening bottles of sake and cans of crab. he knows you’d be mad if you were there, and the thought of you scolding him to take better care of himself makes him smile.
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dazai hums as he flips through his suicide book, words familiar enough that he didn’t bother turning on a light to read them. he knew you’d be back home any day now. your message to the agency that you were safe had lifted a weight from him, but he wouldn’t be completely satisfied until you were in his arms again.
he pauses when he hears the lock turn in the door, sitting up with big, blinking eyes. its felt like an eternity without you, it almost feels unreal that you could really be back.
when he sees you in the doorway, he can’t even bare to move. his face breaks out in a lovesick grin, and he opens his arms wide. your suitcase is abandoned in the doorway as you run to him, knocking him back against the soft cushion of his futon.
his hands cradle your head, kissing you everywhere he can reach. “i’m so happy you’re home,” he still isn’t used to saying that word. “i missed you so much it nearly killed me.” his lips are curled into a smile when he nuzzles into your chest. he shakily exhales when you gently scratch against his scalp as he intertwines his legs with yours, pulling himself closer to you.
“i missed you too,” he’s so happy to hear it, his cheeks ache from smiling so hard. “were you okay while i was gone?”
“shhh,” he holds a finger up to your lips, suppressing a shiver when you kiss his fingertips. “that doesn’t matter now, my love! can’t we just enjoy being together again?” he hears you sigh, and he knows you see right through his poor attempt at deflecting, but it doesn’t matter, not when he finally has you in his arms again.
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CHUUYA
when he hears the news, he assumes he's going with you. it’s no big deal, he’s actually kind of excited. when mori tells him otherwise, he thinks it’s some kind of joke.
he knows it can’t be helped, but he’s still pissed, thinking of being without you for so long, not knowing if you were safe. he doesn’t even want to think of something bad happening to you, but the thought creeps into his mind, dark and icky.
the last thing he wants is for you to think he doesn’t trust you, so he keeps his anxieties inside, helps you pack, and reluctantly kisses you goodbye. it takes a few muttered “just one more?”s before he finally lets you go.
it takes a while for him to adjust to you being away, and he desperately hopes he never has to get used to it again.
he has to stop himself from grabbing two wine glasses each night when he comes home, putting yours back with a resentful frown.
he hugs your pillow in place of you each night, hoping you come back before your scent leaves.
he lights your favorite candles, plays your favorite songs, finds himself ordering your favorite take-out just to have pieces of you around.
when he finishes a job and comes home with cracked, bleeding knuckles, he bandages them alone, pain so much worse without your kisses to make it better.
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chuuya had long since left his spot on the couch, pacing back and forth in his living room. your flight had landed, and it was only a matter of time before you arrived home.
he runs to the door as soon as he hears the knob turn. he doesn’t even let you put your bags down before he’s wrapping his arms around you, squeezing you against him. “i missed you so fuckin’ much.” he presses his lips to yours, practically melting into you when you bury your fingers in his hair. “how are you?” he pulls away, looking you up and down. “are you hurt anywhere?”
you shake your head, giving him that smile he’s missed so much. he picks you up, holding your thighs as your arms circle around his neck, your bags floating behind him with his ability. “what d’you want? bed? bath? i’ll get you anything.”
“just want you.” you mumble into his neck. the answer knocks the air out of him, and he forces himself to take a deep breath, holding you even tighter. he drops the bags in front of the closet, and scoots back against the bed, sitting against the headboard, still cradling you in your arms. you’re already halfway asleep, exhausted from the plane ride home.
“get comfortable,” he presses a kiss to your temple, floating your favorite blanket closer. “‘cause i’m not letting you go again.”
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RANPO
he didn’t care much for the details of the mission, until it was decided that you were going.
he’d thrown somewhat of a tantrum, demanding for fukuzawa to change his mind, but he knew it was useless; you were the only one in the agency who could pull it off.
he can’t even brag about how badass his s/o is when it comes at the cost of you leaving him.
when it’s time for you to go, he resists the urge to cling to your leg like a child and beg for you to stay. instead, he hugs you tightly, imprinting the feeling of your body in his. “come back safe,” he whispers, nose nuzzling into your neck. “please.”
he’s especially grumpy when you’re gone. he eats his breakfast by himself with a pout, apartment eerily quiet, food not nearly as good as it was when you cooked it.
he hates how much space there is in your tiny bathroom without your body next to his while he gets ready for work, glaring at your untouched shoes in the genkan on his way out.
and how exactly is he supposed to sleep well when he doesn’t even get a goodnight kiss??
cases thrown to the side for being too boring are now accepted; anything to keep his mind off of you not being around, or worse, you getting hurt.
he still buys your favorite snacks, an accumulating pile on your desk waiting for you when you return (he only eats a few of them)
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ranpo knows exactly when you’ll be arriving home. he checks the time persistently, bouncing his feet as it gets closer. he doesn’t even wait for you to get settled; as soon as you’re through the door, he jumps into your arms, wrapping his legs around you like an oversized koala bear. “well?” he looks up at you, not bothering with greetings. “what are you waiting for? you have a lot of kisses to make up for, you know!”
he beams as you scatter kisses across his cheeks, dimpled from his big smile. you place a final one on his lips, putting him down to search through your bag. you say something about foreign snacks, but he can’t pay attention, his childish impatience gnawing at him. he’d been so deprived of your attention, and now that you’re here, you’re already distracted.
he wraps his arms around your back, forehead resting against the middle of your shoulder blades. “don’t leave again,” he says quietly; if it wasn’t for the silence of the room, you might not have heard him. “it’s not fair for me to be alone for so long.”
“i know,” you turn around to face him, and he crawls into your lap as soon as you do, his green eyes wide open. “i missed you.”
he peeks at you through his bangs. “how much?”
“so, so, so much.”
he smiles, grabbing your hand and pressing a kiss to your palm before he intertwines it with his own. his thoughts of i didn’t know what to do without you are left unsaid. now that you’re back, he swears he isn’t leaving your side again, and there’s plenty of time for him to show you just how much he missed you.
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BSD MASTERLIST
5K notes · View notes
pheonixgrave · 8 months
Text
Softer Now (18+)
Ahh! You guys seem to be really enjoying these. I realized I was just writing the same Tav so there's that
Warnings: Soft smut, definite voyeurism, a decent amount of blood drinking, Soft!Astarion, pre-Act III, post-Act II
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“Aren’t you just a little jealous?” Karlach asked, joining Astarion near the stash of wine they found.
“Why would I be jealous of the walking encyclopedia?” He smirked, watching a certain elf interact with a certain wizard.
“Oh c’mon! He’s flirting with her and you two are a thing, right?”
“I find it rather charming, actually,” he took a swig of the awful wine in his hand.
The Tiefling looked from the vampire spawn to the pair looking over some old tome whose name no one else could pronounce. “Charming?”
“Let me tell you what I see,” he set the bottle down to face the barbarian. “To you and I, Gale is obviously flirting. In a very clumsy manner, but flirting all the same. Our fearless leader, however, has no idea. To her, he is as much of a friend as Wyll or Shadowheart. Yet, he keeps trying because he has no clue that she simply isn’t flirting back.”
“That doesn’t make you angry?”
“Of course not!” He laughed, “I can barely believe he managed to bed a goddess with how he flirts.”
“It does seem pretty out there, as far as stories go,” Karlach crossed her arms and continued to watch the pair. 
“Anyways, I know there’s no competition.”
She smirked, “You do sound a teensy bit jealous.”
“My dear, I do not get jealous.” The more he thought about it, the more pause it gave him. Their resident wizard does try to hold her attention more often than he should. But Tav’s time was her own. He knew he had nothing to worry about. After everything they’ve been through, he couldn’t imagine her changing her mind at the last moment. Right?
Tav, on the other hand, was enjoying pouring over the old tome they had found. It gave some interesting insight into Illithids and their reasonings. Unfortunately, she was unable to read the language it was written in. She was thankful for Gale in that sense. Who knew he spoke Deep Speech? Granted it was written in Espruar but the script itself was odd. The wizard had helped her decipher a few pages about psionic energy and how they have mastered it. It truly was fascinating. 
“This is nice,” Gale spoke from next to her. He was holding the dusty tome in his hands with the bard sitting near him, using her mage hand to scribble any notes she’s taken. 
She looked up at him with wide eyes, “I suppose it is! I’m very happy we found this book.”
“It truly is remarkable,” he swallowed, “It’s also a nice excuse to spend more time together in the midst of all this madness.” 
“Oh! I suppose it is nice to sit with everyone.” She didn’t fail to notice him scoot slightly closer. Just a hair between them now.
Gale closed the book and turned to look at the elf next to him. “I’m afraid I must ask you something.”
Something in Tav’s mind warned her to walk away. But she was still getting used to that voice, so she elected not to listen to it. This was Gale. This was her friend. “What’s on your mind?”
He grabbed her hands in his, “I have noticed you and Astarion getting rather close recently.”
Tav wasn’t sure how to react. She was already flustered by the sudden turn of the conversation. She was more than happy to keep speaking of the Illithid empire. “Where are you going with this, Gale?”
Gale’s eyes never left hers. It was like he was trying far too hard to bear into her soul and she simply…didn’t want him to. “I told myself it was casual, not a matter of the heart but…clearly I was wrong and it looks like I am the last to know. I know how close you two have gotten, I just thought you would show me the respect of telling me first.”
The Elf’s jaw dropped, “Tell you? Tell you what?”
“But you can tell me now. Who is it to be? Me or him?” The look in Gale’s eyes was nearly as serious as when he was told he’d have to become a bomb.
“What exactly am I choosing here?” Tav blinked, glancing down at the wizard’s hands that completely enveloped hers. It took her a moment before her brain caught up. “Oh! Oh, Gale! I had no idea you felt this strongly.”
A glimmer of a smile reached his face, “Well, perhaps I should have done more. Been more charming, more flattering, harder to reach…but I was only myself. Sometimes that just isn’t enough.” His face dropped looking at hers, “Whatever your decision is, I will respect it. But you must choose. You cannot have us both.”
Tav made a choked sound in the back of her throat before clearing it. “I don’t think this is a good idea. I think it’s for the best that we aren’t involved like that. I want to be with Astarion.”
“I see. I suppose he does have a certain charm about him, if you’re into that sort of thing.” He sighed, “I’ll just put my feelings to one side. I think that’s best for everyone. It’s certainly the best thing for me. I won’t leave, unless you want me to. Or until fate forces my hand, your friendship is all we have. And I will be happy to have it, eventually.”
Tav’s heart broke for the man. It must be quite painful to not have those feelings returned. For a moment, she thought about what she would do if Astarion ever stops feeling the things he says he feels for her. And the thought almost brought tears to her eyes. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” she couldn’t hide the crack in her voice. But Gale was never going to be the cause of it. 
“Worry not. I carry my regrets wherever I go and I am used to their weight. One more will not break my back.” He gripped her hands one final time before she pulled away. 
She gave him a sad smile before walking over to where Karlach and Astarion stood. Grabbing the bottle from Astarion’s hands, she drank deep for a moment. They both glanced at each other before turning back towards the Elf. She handed the bottle back to him before smiling at Karlach, “Is there anything you have to admit to me? Any deep romantic feelings or attachment?”
Karlach laughed, “What? No, soldier!” She put her still warm hand on the much smaller elf’s shoulder. “You’re a dear friend. More than that, you’re family.”
Tav’s shoulders dropped, “Oh thank the Gods.” She turned to Astarion who was watching her with raised eyebrows, “Bed?” 
The moment they were inside his tent, she buried her face in his chest with her arms wrapped so tightly around his waist. “Darling, what’s wrong? Did the mean mage say something he shouldn’t have?” 
She didn’t want to pull far enough away to answer him. She didn’t want him to see her start to cry. She just shook her head and held him as close as she could. She wasn’t sure how to process these feelings. The vampire spawn just wrapped his arms around her trembling form. 
“You don’t have to say anything, just nod your head. Did Gale hurt you in any way?” She could hear the growl in his voice. It sounded more dangerous than normal. 
She pulled away with a deep inhale. She looked up at him with tears already streaming down her face. With a sniffle she whispered, “Gale admitted he had feelings for me, yes. But then I thought about how miserable life would be without you in it.”
Astarion froze, his body tensed. “So let me get this straight,” he swallowed, more nervous than he’s ever really been before. “You told Gale you’re not interested just to be with me? I do come with my complications, my love.”
She let out a breathy laugh, “I told Gale I’m not interested because I’m simply not interested.” Her hand reached up to stroke his cheek, “I just don’t ever want to imagine a life without you again. A world where you’re not with me. Because you’ve always been near, even if I didn’t know it.”
He remembers the night he told her about Cazador. The night he told her about the Szarr palace was also the same night she had told her about her tower. And how she could see the palace from her desk. It was true, they really have always been close in one way or another. “And you got that worked up because…?”
“I wouldn’t even know what I was missing,” she smiled at him, eyes still full of emotion. “You’ve been all of my firsts. First kiss, first night together. Hells, the first time I’ve held someone's hand was with you. This is all still very new to me. And the moment I thought about you not being with me I-” she let out a choked sob before gripping his shirt in her fists and burying her face in his chest once again. 
For a moment, the vampire spawn didn’t react. It still takes him a moment to return affection but he managed to wrap his arms around the trembling bard. He swallowed before gently rubbing the small of her back. The thought of someone wanting him this badly was…daunting, to say the least. He knew if they had met before the nautiloid, he’d mark her as a victim. She was pretty and just naive enough to fall for him. Hells, he had even known her parents. Cazador loved having the city’s nobility over, but never her. 
She was always the princess in the tower. Always there but never seen. Even Cazador had thought she was a mere rumor and nothing else.
For a while, he just held her while she cried. He wasn’t sure what else he could do besides hold her. Nothing he could say would comfort her. They weren’t even sure if they would survive this mess. So he pulled her closer. The rest of the night passed as they were wrapped in each other’s embrace. Soft, whispered words of a future sprinkled with hope. For the first time in his unlife, he had more than just hope.
The next couple of days passed uneventfully. They were only traveling, plain and simple. Onwards to Baldur’s Gate. Where all of their dooms or salvations lay. In the gloom of it all, Tav wanted some fun. She had gone to Shadowheart and pilfered some of her extra blankets with promises to replace them once they reached the city. As they set up camp yet again, she made her way towards the lake side. She laid out all of the blankets in a large square before finding the extra food she had squirreled away. And pulled out the best wine she could find. It was an obviously aged bottle still covered in a thick layer of dust, but the label looked fancy.  She truly knew nothing about wine so she prayed to whomever was listening that it wasn’t swill. She then adjusted her bustier in an awkward manner before smiling to herself and searching for the vampire spawn.
He wasn’t hard to find. No one heard what she whispered in his ear. But they certainly noticed the fond smile and raised eyebrows as she dragged him away from the camp. Astarion looked at the little picnic she had put together, his hand in hers before kissing the top of her head. “And what’s the special occasion, darling?”
She smiled up at him, unabashed emotion in her eyes with a grin on her face. She was truly divine in the moonlight. She shrugged, “I just wanted to do something nice for you. We reach Baldur’s Gate in a couple days and we have to hit the ground running soon. I just wanted to take a moment, just for us.” She picked up the bottle of wine she had found, “I hope it’s okay. I know it’s old but I don’t know if it’s good.” 
He smiled and pulled her close. “Aren’t you just the sweetest little thing?”
The tips of her ears flushed as he placed a gentle kiss on her lips. And then they sat and talked and ate and drank. They spoke about the Gauntlet of Shar, about the monastery, about the Moonrise Towers. And the conversation drifted to their party as Tav slowly became more and more tipsy. She talked about Wyll and his obvious daddy issues. Shadowheart and her love for more adult literature. And Astarion was all too happy to sit and listen to her. It’s one of the things that drew him to her, after all. She could read people like they were a book she was all too happy to read. 
As the evening turned into night, the pair ended up against a nearby rock. Tav sitting on his lap as he peppered her neck with kisses. And as Tav’s giggles turned into soft moans as his hands started to travel to her waist. “You should keep quiet, my sweet, we wouldn’t want to wake the entire camp up. Would we?” He whispered before nipping at the base of her neck. 
“I-I think you’d like that far too much,” she managed to gasp out as he helped her rock her hips back and forth against him. 
He chuckled against her neck, leaving trails of almost bites with his fangs. “What ever makes you say that?”
“Astarion!” She moaned, grabbing the back of his head as he finally sank his teeth into her neck. She gripped his curls in one hand and dug her nails into his shoulder with the other. Her hips moved on their own as he slowly drank from her. His arms wrapped around her waist as he held her up. Between the wine and him drinking from her, she felt lightheaded. But that made the friction between them feel all the more intense. 
“You always taste just so perfect, my love.” He slowly released her neck before slamming his lips against hers. He knew he was being needy but he craved her. As his lips melded against hers his nimble fingers went to work on the knots of her bustier. It never took him long to get her out of her clothes and tonight was no exception. 
She grabbed his hands before he could fully remove her bustier, cradling his hands in hers. “Are you sure you want to do this? We really don’t have to. I’m happy to just sit here with you.” Her voice was barely a whisper, something meant just for him. 
He smiled at her before kissing her again, “Darling, if I didn’t wish to have you, I wouldn’t have you half dressed sitting on my lap.”
She smiled and let go of his hands and let him return to practically tearing off her clothing. He wasn’t satisfied until she was sat on his lap in nothing but her underwear. His face buried in her breasts, leaving small little nicks with his teeth as he made his way back up to her lips. Her hands gripped his shoulder as he snaked his hand down her body. He made sure to feel all the softness that was still on her body, never failing to trace her curves. 
Tav was small but years in a tower had made her body gentle. Her hands were rough from her instruments, yes, and she did have a lot of skill with a blade. But she was in no way muscular. And Astarion enjoyed that more than he could say. He enjoyed being able to almost see the tremors in her thighs before he felt it. Gods, he needed her. 
It only took him a moment to find her clit and draw slow, gentle circles around it. Never quite touching it directly. “Darling, you’re already shaking. Did you miss me that much?”
“Yes!” She cried into his ear. “Y-you’re teasing me.” Her head fell against his shoulder as her body trembled against him. 
“Oh, I’d never do such a thing,” He smiled and buried his hand in her hair. “I simply want to take my time enjoying you.” The vampire spawn slowly filled her cunt with his fingers, his palm grinding against her clit. 
She tried hard to keep quiet. Really she did. But when his fingers curled inside of her? She couldn’t help but cry out his name. How was he so patient? All she wanted was to have him inside her. He pumped his fingers in and out of her cunt so painfully slowly. 
Now, Tav may have been too focused on the rogue’s hands to notice anything else. But Astarion wasn’t. He knew Halsin and Gale were keeping watch tonight. He also knew it was far too late for anyone else to be awake. Which is why his hands didn’t stop when he noticed the bushes across from them moved. It was so subtle that he almost missed it.
Almost.
Someone was watching them. And he had an inkling he knew exactly who it was. The thought made him grin against Tav’s bloodsoaked neck. He sped up his fingers, holding her as she writhed against him. “That’s it, love, don’t hold a single thing back.” She came with a cry of his name. She was still trembling as he made a show of licking his own fingers clean. “I do so enjoy how you taste, my love.” He didn’t whisper this time. He wanted the wizard in the bushes to hear.
With shaking hands she went to untie the knots on his trousers. He leaned back against the rock, letting her take his length in her hands. “M-may I?” Her neck was stained just as red as the flush on her cheeks. Her big blue eyes wide in anticipation. 
“May you what?” His hand went to her throat and he felt her breath catch.
“M-may I ride you?” It really was endearing how she asked. Her voice was breathless and her chest was heaving. He had never been overly rough with her. But with a voyeur in the bushes? He was more than tempted to lay claim to the nearly virgin in his lap. 
He pouted at her, “I’m not quite sure what you mean, darling.”
Her eyes went wider than before. “W-what?”
She was so innocent. So pure, he had never even heard her swear before. “What is it exactly that you would like to do?” He purred, his forehead meeting hers. “Don’t play coy with me now.”
She swallowed, the tips of her ears matching the rest of her face. “Astarion,” she whined. 
“If you use your words, love, I’ll be happy to give you anything you want.”
She whined again when the grip around her throat tightened ever so slightly. “I-I want-” another swallow, “I want to ride your cock.”
He smiled, “See? Now was that so hard? You did so well,” he whispered against her lips.  She adjusted herself over him, still holding him in one hand while the other braced herself on his shoulder. His hand still held her throat, not quite squeezing just letting her know he was there. The bard lowered herself onto him. He groaned as she sank down. “Perfect.”
Her other hand flew up to his chest while she gripped his blouse so tightly that her knuckles were whiter than before. Her head spun while the wine loosened her tongue. “Gods, Astarion.” 
“Use your words, darling,” he moaned against her neck, his eyes keeping an eye on the bush yet again. He wanted the wizard to see how good he could make her feel. He wanted him to see that he wasn’t even a thought on her mind. He wanted him to see that she wanted him and not Gale.
She sat for a moment, adjusting to his size before rocking her hips back and forth. Astarion’s hands flew to her hips to help guide her movements. “Feels so good,” she whimpered, still clutching at his blouse. 
“That’s it, pet. You can take it, I know you can.” Her movements were entirely her own. She gradually went from rocking to bouncing. His body told him to throw his head back but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. Maybe now Gale would realize she was his. Maybe he had more of a possessive streak than he thought. 
“Your hand, put it back!” She used his chest as leverage for her movements. He could feel her getting close and who was he to deny her? He instinctively put his hand back around her throat and squeezed. He had never felt her tighten around him harder. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. He let her sit like that for a moment as she started to relax once again.
Whoever was in the bushes was gone now. Either too riled up to stay or too heartbroken to watch. Either way, Astarion found it satisfying. Satisfying enough to toss Tav on her back and put her ankles on his shoulder. It was something about knowing Tav not only trusted him but chose him, drove him wild. Far more than any lover he’s had in the past. Even through her half opened eyes and her mind filled with wine and pleasure, her eyes were still filled with that emotion. That feeling that he wouldn’t dare put words to yet. 
She was his. And he was equally hers. 
Her moans and whimpers filled the air but he felt so far away from her. Too far. She grabbed his hands and pulled him closer, lacing her hands with his. “Beautiful,” was all she could whisper before she clenched around him. This time, he wasn’t far behind her. They laid like that for a while. Him on top of her, her tracing small patterns on his back. The scars were a reminder of what awaited them in Baldur’s Gate. But it could wait for now. For now they had each other. 
“Did you see who was in the bushes?” 
He immediately met her eyes, “You knew?”
“I’m naive, not stupid.” She giggled, rolling over to her side.
“I believe we just gave the magic eater quite the eyeful.”
2K notes · View notes
mc-i-r · 8 months
Text
Disposable Heroes
Part one, Part two, Part three, Part four AO3 link
A/N: hi yes so sorry for how late this is, it turned into a huge monster of a fic that I’m still working on but I figured posting the first part wouldn’t hurt. This is based on this post by @liightsnow, @acowardinmordor, and @00biscuit while back and I decided to expand that concept a bit and here we are. I'll be tagging anyone that seemed interested in the concept at the end of the fic! Warnings are below but I just wanna say that Steve is struggling with his sexuality in this one so most of it comes from that. This will absolutely have a happy ending, just not right now. Enjoy the angst!
Tw: internalized homophobia, homophobic language, mentions of canon violence, dissociation, panic attacks
———
It’s a Sunday afternoon when he realizes it. Steve is sitting on his couch, eating a shitty frozen meal and watching a random movie on TV when it hits him. The kids haven’t asked him for a ride in two weeks. Two Saturdays have passed and there was not one call— either on the phone or over the walkie— from any of the kids. Not even Dustin, who has seemed to make it his life’s mission in the past couple years to annoy Steve into an early grave.
It’s not like he hasn’t seen them at all. He still practices basketball with Lucas on Thursdays, even though the season is long over. His weekly dinners with Claudia and Dustin are still going strong every Wednesday. Joyce seems to invite him over for dinners every couple weeks. From the outside, everything seems fine. And maybe it is, but Steve’s noticed things.
See, he’s not as stupid as people think he is. He may not be academically smart but he can read. However, instead of books, it’s people. He can read their micro-expressions, notice little signs in their body language that help him understand the person. He can tell when people are nervous when they avoid eye contact, can tell how anxious they are when they distract themselves by picking at their fingers. It’s how he’s so good with the kids. They’re in the stubborn stage of their teenage years, the time in which the only answer you’ll get is ‘I’m fine. Leave me alone’. But he can tell if there’s something on their minds, if there’s something eating away at them.
He can tell that Mike’s anger and pointed barbs are directed towards himself, how he’s struggling with something he can’t quite admit to himself yet. How Max is frustrated with her body, with accepting help, because she’s always had to rely on herself and putting that much trust in someone else has never been an option for her until now. How Lucas is trying to find joy in doing something he loves again, because his love for basketball has been ruined by Carver and his trusty band of assholes. How Dustin is trying to deal with almost losing Eddie, how he’s processing the feelings of almost losing a brotherly figure along with one of his friends. How Will is hiding part of himself, struggling to accept it in the same way Mike is. How El is trying so hard to find her new normal, to adjust to getting her life— her father— back.
There’s another thing he’s noticed, however. It’s that the kids are obsessed with Eddie. Steve from a couple years ago would feel jealous of Eddie, and would try to hold it against him. Now, though, Steve just feels… sad. The kids constantly talk about how cool and badass Eddie is for still being himself despite all the shit Hawkins has thrown at him. They talk about how Eddie takes them places, gets them little trinkets for their nerd game, and takes them fun places. Eddie does all these little things for the kids, lets them just be kids, and really, Steve can’t be mad at him for it. He tries to let them have fun, but his constant worrying overwhelms them. It brings them down. Eddie doesn’t do that. He joins right in with them, basking in the fun and letting himself go. Steve… can’t. Not with all the shit he’s seen. Letting his guard down is something he can’t afford to do anymore.
He sighs down at his meal, chucking it on the coffee table as he loses his appetite. His glasses land next to the disposable plastic tray, sliding across the finished wood surface from the force of his throw. He rubs harshly over his face, hands digging into his eyes until he sees stars.
Steve knows he’s not perfect. Hell, it took an interdimensional monster trying to kill him in order for him to realize that he could be a better person. That the only person truly able to change his life is himself. He used to think he had no choice in his life— whether it was his parents' high expectations of him or his friends trying to mold him into their perfect little plaything— but he knows better now. He knows that he shouldn’t have become King Steve, that he shouldn’t have hurled all his hate and anger towards other people who didn’t deserve it. He knows he shouldn’t have called people names or slurs, that he shouldn’t have spray painted lockers or ripped up books or shoved people against hard asphalt. He knows that, but knowing it was wrong doesn’t erase the fact that it happened. That Steve did those things and hurt people.
Part of him knows that his past is what made the kids turn towards Eddie. Why wouldn’t they? Steve was a bully, thought he was hot shit in school and made it everyone’s problem. Eddie was simply himself. His unabashed, unashamed self. He stood on cafeteria tables, made dramatic speeches, and shared his opinions to anyone and everyone who would listen. He’s so genuine and so, so much better for the kids. He teaches them how to be themselves, how to shove off the hate and embrace their weird side. He’s perfect for them, and Steve knows deep down that this is good for them. The kids need a good role model, one they can rely on, and Eddie has his herd of little sheep to teach and protect. It’s perfect. They’re perfect.
Steve remembers the time last week at the Byers-Hopper house when their little obsession truly became real. They were waiting for the bread to finish baking in the oven, and Steve saw that Will was seated alone in the living room. Joyce and Hopper were in the kitchen, talking and keeping a lookout so the bread wouldn’t burn. Jonathan and El were listening to music in his room, the synth and guitars echoing down the hallway. So, Steve decided to finally talk to Will. It’s not like they don’t talk ever, just… not much. Will is quiet, blends into the background, and Steve never felt like the kid would be comfortable with him trying to get in his business. However, he needed to ask the question that had been on his mind for a while.
Steve sat down on the couch next to him, keeping a fair amount of distance between them, and rested his elbows on his knees. Will was reading a comic, the cover full of bright colors and words, not paying attention. Steve sighed, pushed his glasses up, and ran a hand through his own hair.
“Hey, um… can we talk for a sec?”
Will startled a little, like he didn’t realize Steve was there, and closed his comic. He nodded, and Steve tried not to feel bad about the hesitation in his eyes.
“Is there something going on that I don’t know about? Like with the others?” Will’s eyebrows furrowed, a confused expression taking over his face.
“Um.. what do you mean?”
“Just… have I done anything to them to make them mad? I just… I don’t know, I feel like I’ve done something but I don’t know what,” Steve confessed. He must have looked as distraught as he felt, because Will seemed to soften at his explanation a bit.
“Why do you think that, Steve?” Will asked softly, and Steve had a moment of realization that Will seemed years older than he looked. Steve sighed, and explained that the kids haven’t really been hanging around him much and instead like to spend time with Eddie. He’s quick to clarify that he doesn’t mean anything bad by it, just wants to know what happened. It was Will’s turn to sigh, and he looked at Steve with something akin to sympathy.
“Steve, I don’t say this to be mean but… Eddie just relates to us more, you know? He shares more interests with us, and he seems to get us better,” Will expressed. His eyes widened and he hastily added, “it doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you! Just… it’s nice to have somewhere else to go, you know?”
The rest of the evening was spent with Steve silently eating his dinner, Will’s words echoing through his head as he munched on half-burnt bread.
Steve decides then, TV dinner half-eaten and work vest still on his shoulders, that he’s going to make this better.
The next day, Eddie comes into Family Video to pick up some movies, definitely for a movie night judging by the titles— he seriously doubts a metalhead would willingly watch The Goonies, The Dark Crystal, and Ghostbusters by himself on a Saturday night. Eddie bounds up to the register, movies in hand, and does a dramatic bow as he presents them to Steve.
“I wish to borrow these, my liege,” Eddie declares, his voice deep and in a horrible mockery of an English accent. Steve scoffs and rolls his eyes, unable to hide the small grin on his face at the other man's theatrics.
Eddie looks so effortlessly pretty, his hair tied back in a ponytail and his tattoos exposed through the large arm holes in his homemade tank top. Steve shakes his head to get rid of those thoughts and takes the movies to check them out, ignoring the late fee balance on Eddie's account. A glance at the man in front of him, who is bouncing on his toes and looking around the store, gives Steve an idea.
“Hey, is Hellfire still going on?”
Eddie snaps his attention back to Steve, looking a little startled to be asked such a thing.
“Uh… yeah, it's still going on. We have to play in Gareth’s hot ass garage since school is out but we’re making it work. Why d’you ask?”
“Oh, uh… the kids complained awhile back that they didn’t have a good spot to play anymore and I was just wondering,” Steve explains. Eddie raises an eyebrow at him, and Steve can feel him staring. Can feel him looking at him closely. Too closely. He clears his throat and looks back down at the counter, pushing his gold, wire-framed glasses further up his nose. “I uh… I actually wanted to offer up my place? My parents aren’t home much”— more like never— “and I’ve got plenty of space for the gremlins and the other guys. Plus, my A/C works and I’ve got a shit ton of snacks. I’ll stay out of your hair and-“
“Actually uh…” Eddie cuts him off with a strained voice. Steve looks up to find his face contorted like he ate something sour, and he knows what his response is going to be before he opens his mouth. Eddie wipes a hand over his mouth before shoving it in his pocket. “Yeah, the other guys just… really wouldn’t want to be there.”
Steve nods— tries not to let the denial sting— and looks down at the movies in his hands. Ignoring how they shake, he sets them on the counter and slides them towards Eddie.
“That’s okay man, I get it. I need a break from the little horrors anyway,” he huffs out, the words digging their way into the pit in his stomach. He puts on his best customer service smile and looks up at Eddie, finding him looking a little wary. Eddie hesitates, as if debating with himself on whether or not to say anything, before rapping his knuckles on the counter in a little rhythm and picking up his movies. An awkward smile finds its way to his face, and Steve thinks it strange and out of place. It’s so.. un-Eddie-like. The pit grows deeper.
Walking backwards towards the entrance, Eddie throws a little salute his way before turning and swinging out the door. A belated “see ya, Harrington” drifts through the closing door in his wake.
Steve slumps over the counter when he’s gone, holding his head in his hands and feeling the childish urge to cry make its way up to his eyes. Even after everything— after walking through hell together, dragging his lifeless body out of the Upside Down as his blood dripped down his back and soaked through his clothes, standing vigil at his side until he woke up two weeks later— Eddie still seems to hate him.
But Steve… he feels the opposite. He has this overwhelming desire to be with Eddie. To hang out with him in the back of his van, drinking sodas and eating snacks as they look out over Lover’s Lake while the sun sets. To talk to him until the early hours of the morning until there’s nothing left to say. To go for drives late at night and listen to his loud music on the radio while holding hands over the center console. He has feelings for Eddie he’s never had before. Not for any past romantic conquests nor any girl. Hell, not even for Nancy. He’s never felt this intense need to be near someone before, and it scares him. It truly terrifies him.
He’s not homophobic— his platonic soulmate is a lesbian, for Christ's sake— but the fact that he feels this way is just… wrong to him. How is Steve Harrington, ladies’ man and charmer extraordinaire, into dudes? What is he, like, half gay? It just doesn’t make sense, doesn’t seem right, for him to feel like this. He sighs into his hands, digging his palms into his eyes until he sees stars. He can’t be thinking about this now, he can’t be thinking about this at all. He needs to shove it in the box in the back of his head where all the hard feelings go, waiting and festering to be dealt with later. He needs to, but he doesn’t know if he can.
Fuck, he needs to talk to Robin. Shit- can he though? What if what he’s feeling is a fluke or something? What if it’s just in his head because he’s desperate? What if Robin thinks he’s making fun of her and won’t take him seriously? It’s not fair of him to throw all his problems on her, even if he thinks she could help. It’s not her job to look after him, to take care of him. He can do that himself. He can figure this out himself.
Distantly, the words of Richard Harrington play in his ears. About how being gay is wrong, how it’s a disease. How it’s a sickness that slowly takes over until there’s nothing left. How it’s a disgrace.
He remembers sitting in the living room with his parents on a rare occasion in which they were home, watching the news channel as it talked about an epidemic spreading through young men. His father scoffed at the screen when they started talking about potential cures.
“Cures? They should just let those fags die. They brought this on themselves, you know. Typical of them to complain about the fucking consequences,” Richard had spat out at the block TV, standing to refill his bourbon. Steve had clenched his fists at his side, his already stiff posture straightening still. He felt angry at his fathers words, something pure and burning in his gut.
He didn’t know what it was at the time, but maybe he should’ve known. Maybe him being queer shouldn’t be as much of a surprise as it feels. Maybe he’s always known and just couldn’t bring himself to admit it. Maybe that anger he felt at his father’s words was partly on behalf of himself, too.
A wince shudders through him as he remembers how that night ended.
Steve had stood up from the couch, watching the dark liquid flow into the crystal glass in his father’s hand.
“What’s so wrong with being gay? I don’t understand how you could just.. hate people like that. Hate them for just existing,” Steve countered. His father had frozen at his words, slowly setting down the decanter with a solid ‘thunk’ against the metal tray where it belonged and turned to face him. His face was slowly gaining a reddish hue, a sign of the anger rising within him.
“What did you just say?” He demanded, voice scarily calm but laced with an icy rage. Steve swallowed.
“What… What's wrong with being gay, sir?” Steve hesitated, voice failing him. Richard had downed the glass of bourbon before throwing it at Steve, the crystal shattering on the mantelpiece behind him and sending shards flying.
“What’s wrong, Steven, is that you think it’s okay. No son of mine will think like that, not on my watch,” his father boomed, taking long strides towards him. Steve didn’t dare move, only watched his fist grow nearer as he punched him high on his cheek. He fell to the floor, arms trying to protect his head but it was no use. Richard had ripped his arms away, gripping the front of his shirt and making Steve hover above the ground.
“I didn’t raise a fucking fairy, Steven,” he spat. “A faggot.” Steve recoiled, physically feeling the vitriol his father aimed at his face. Richard had sneered, pulled him close and whispered, “Never forget that, Steven,” before shoving him harshly onto the ground and walking away. Black had clouded the edges of his vision, and he laid on the plush rug until it cleared up. He looked over, found his mother silently watching the TV and sipping her wine, and begged with his eyes for her to help him. To say something. Anything. She didn’t, and Steve had to haul himself off the floor, grasping the couch when his vision swam, and stumbled his way to his room.
The rest of that weekend was spent in his room, gingerly cleaning his face and the couple places where glass had cut him on his arms with a wet washcloth and soap. It was the first time he had ever gotten a concussion. He was fifteen.
He remembers replaying the fight over and over again, feeling like those barbs were directed towards him, too. In hindsight, maybe they were. Maybe his father just knew. Knew he was queer long before Steve ever did. Maybe that’s why he’s always so angry with him, so… disappointed. A groan escapes him and he runs a hand through his hair. He’s been thinking way too damn much for it to be this early in the day.
God, he really wishes Robin was here. He knows he can’t talk to her, but it would be nice just to have someone here to keep him from spiraling and drowning in his thoughts. He pushes himself off the counter and goes over to the cart where the returns sit, hoping that busying himself will occupy his thoughts. He sets a few on the shelves when what Eddie said earlier barrels into him full-force.
“Yeah, the other guys just… really wouldn’t want to be there.”
Jesus fucking Christ, he’s stupid. Of course the other Hellfire guys wouldn’t want to be at his house, they probably still see him as King Steve. Most people do, nowadays. Only the ones he went through hell with know he’s different now, that he’s changed. So really, he can’t fault them for being against the idea of Hellfire at his house. He wouldn’t believe it either if he was in their shoes.
Then again, wouldn’t Eddie or the kids try to convince them he’s different? That he’s not a dick? Shit, he’s been through four apocalypses, three concussions, and survived Russian torture— surely they would give him the benefit of the doubt, right? He’s dropped the bad influences out of his life, found better friends, better family— or can he even say that anymore?— to be with. Wouldn’t they try to stick up for him? Or... is he just not worth it?
Steve clenches his eyes shut, willing his bubbling emotions back down, and grips the movie in his hands so hard the plastic begins to creak. The little voice in his head, one that sounds suspiciously like Robin, tells him to breathe. He does. Deep inhale, hold, long exhale. Over and over and over again until he’s calm, until his head is clear.
He knows what he needs to do now: apologize. If it's one thing Steve Harrington knows, it’s how to apologize. Hell, he’s done it more times than he can count. He knows how to repair burnt bridges and how to get past the tough exterior of a person to pull at their heartstrings for sympathy. He knows the key; he just has to make himself useful. If he can provide things for the kids, for Eddie and the Hellfire crew, then they’ll want him around. That’s how it’s always been. That’s how it is with his parents, with school, with his past friends, and now his current ones. He vaguely recalls his junior year art teacher saying that, "once is an accident, twice is a coincidence, but thrice is a pattern." Which means this, this is something he has to make right.
With a plan solidified in his mind, he goes back to work refilling the shelves with movies, brainstorming ideas to get his family back.
Over the next week, Steve becomes a one man show. He offers up more rides, more movie nights, more free reign of his house and his pool and his car and his money and himself just to make the kids happy. He picks up extra shifts at work just to get extra spending money for them, knowing that they go through twenty bucks in no time.
But… it doesn’t work. Because bit by bit, ride by ride, movie marathon by family dinner by game night by post-nightmare phone call, it becomes painfully clear. Everyone puts on a mask around him. One that says they’re happy to see him, that they’re glad he’s here, but he knows it’s a lie. This, really, shouldn’t be much of a surprise. People don’t stick around him much, so why did he think this was any different?
Maybe it’s because he was finally himself around them, he finally opened up and showed a bit of his true self, and was still rejected. Still pushed away. He wasn’t cowering behind a mask this time, he was just Steve. But it wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t good enough.
To their credit, it starts off slow. Casual comments that are cut off quickly, kicks under dinner tables and pointed throat clearing. It’s one instance during game night where it all clicks.
The Monopoly board is spread out before them in the Byers-Hopper living room. Steve, of course, is losing. He’s not good with investments and savings and he keeps landing on the goddamn ‘jail’ space but he doesn’t really care, not when he’s finally having fun with the kids. He groans when the dice make him land on one of Mike’s properties, shuffling his fake cash to pull out the tax money.
“C’mon this game is totally rigged. How the hell am I losing to a bunch of teens?” He grumbles as Mike proudly snatches the money from his hand. Max snickers from her place beside him, her pale blue eyes rolling as she looks at him.
“You know, if you actually used your brain then maybe you wouldn’t be losing. Ever think of that?” She quips, and Steve huffs. Leave it to him to be called out by a fifteen year old.
“I’m surprised there’s even a brain in there to begin with,” Dustin states. He’s seated across from Steve. “I mean, why else would he have-“
His comment is cut off by Lucas smacking his arm. Dustin looks at him like he’s about to protest when Lucas raises his eyebrows, looking pointedly from Dustin to Steve and back again. Steve can’t hear from his position so far away, but he swears Dustin mutters “shit” before crossing his arms and looking down at the board. Steve looks around at the rest of the group, noticing how none of them seem to want to look at him, choosing to focus rather intently on the cardboard before them.
The rest of the game is filled with awkward silences. Steve can feel them looking at him when he’s occupied, and it makes him feel like shit inside.
It’s on the drive home when it hits him. He is the one that doesn’t fit into their group, into their family. They’re slowly but surely removing him and replacing him with Eddie. With someone who fits. With someone better. It hits him so hard, so fully, that he has to pull over on a quiet street to sob in his empty car.
The first time it's fully solidified in his mind is at a barbecue at the Byers-Hoppers house. Robin can’t come, her aunt from up north is visiting for the weekend and she has to stay home. Steve walks through the house, planning on saying hello to Joyce before joining the party outside. He finds Joyce talking low to Eddie in the kitchen and he pauses in the doorway, watches how Joyce laughs at something Eddie says. How she places her hand on his arm as her eyes crinkle with the weight of her laugh. Eddie is smiling, open and wide, with a flush high on his cheeks that stains his skin pink. His dimples are on full display and it takes pure willpower for Steve not to go and poke at them, to settle his thumb in the divot of his skin.
Joyce leans close to Eddie and says something under her breath, making him blush purely red now and shush her, causing another wave of laughter to ripple through the both of them. The kitchen is filled with warmth, the afternoon sunlight streaming in through the sheer cream-colored curtains that line the two windows as laughter fills the room. It’s light, it’s happiness, it’s love. It’s something Steve hasn’t felt in years.
Steve knocks on the doorframe, waggling his fingers in greeting. They both turn to look at him, and all that warmth from before flees the room. If he hadn’t just seen the thin rays with his own two eyes, he could have sworn even the sun went down as well. He feels a stab of pain in his heart, so sharp it makes his breath stutter. He fights to put a smile on his face, briefly clearing his throat and praying his voice doesn’t sound as faint as he feels.
“Hey, Ms. Byers. Eddie,” he greets. Steve runs a hand through his hair, just to give himself something to do. “Just wanted to say hi before I go outside.”
Eddie’s face has gone completely slack, the only thing convincing Steve he didn’t hallucinate the entire exchange earlier is the flush that had yet to leave his cheeks. In fact, Eddie looks even more red now that he’s made his presence known. Joyce, to her credit, has a small polite smile on her face.
“Thank you, Steve, that's very kind of you,” she replies. She casts a glance at Eddie out of the corner of her eye, something Steve has noticed a lot of people do to each other when he’s around. “You go on outside now, okay? I’m sure the kids are missing you.”
Steve holds back his remark of “yeah, I actually doubt that” and nods, leaving the two of them in the kitchen as he continues down the hallway. He tries hard not to let the harshness of their quick whispers dig further into his already injured heart.
Once outside, he’s greeted by no one. Dustin and Lucas are discussing something rapidly to one another, Dustin gesturing wildly with his hands as Lucas nods along and adds details. Max and El are sitting on a lawn chair together, Max seemingly teaching El how to braid her hair. Mike and Will are sitting in the grass a bit away from the group, shoulders touching and heads bowed together as they talk quietly to one another. Steve smiles softly at them, knowing.
He makes his way over to Hopper, who is manning the grill with a beer in one hand and a spatula in the other. Steve waves and gives him an awkward little smile, and Hopper nods his head, pointing towards a cooler with his beer. Steve grabs one, popping it open and taking an, admittedly, big first swig. Hopper doesn’t notice, or at least doesn’t comment, and Steve looks out over the people he still considers his family. He catches Dustin’s eyes, hoping to have someone to talk to, but the kid only looks away and continues his conversation.
So now Steve is here by himself, slowly nursing a beer, and trying to keep his emotions in check.
It’s just that… he doesn’t know what he did. Was he too overbearing or did he not care enough? Was he too pushy or too distant? Was he just annoying them? Was he just an inconvenience? Did they ever really like him or did they just put up with them out of necessity? Or because they felt bad?
He takes another sip of beer, hating the way it tastes on his tongue but it’s better than the bile slowly rising in his throat. All he wants is for someone to see him, to see who he truly is and like it. To stick around. To stay.
And it’s true, he does have Robin, but sometimes she can’t give him what he needs. Call him a romantic but Steve wants that love, that connection, that intense feeling you get with a partner. He craves it more than anything. He wants to touch, to taste, to feel someone else.
Eddie. He wants Eddie.
A voice interrupts his thoughts.
“Kid, will you go get me a plate for the burgers?” Hopper asks, his gruff voice shoving all of his mushy thoughts aside. Steve nods, sets his beer on top of the cooler, and makes his way inside. He silently dreads ever walking in that room again, dreads having to feel the chill from before. However, the scene in the kitchen is drastically different this time. Joyce is by herself, Eddie nowhere to be seen, and is mixing together slaw in a big tupperware bowl.
Steve knocks on the frame again and is met with a small smile from the older woman. It’s infinitely more warm than the one he was met with when he got there, and he thinks it’s partly due to the lack of a certain metalhead in the room. Joyce sets down her spoon, wiping her hands on a nearby towel, and holds her arms out.
“C’mere, honey,” she murmurs, and Steve tries not to let her soft tone get to him. The last thing he needs is to cry in front of everyone. He walks forwards into her hug, leaning down a little to wrap his arms around her properly, and sighs when she rubs her hands up and down his back. Steve clenches his eyes shut, taking in stuttering breaths that he knows she can hear but thanks every god out there that she doesn’t comment on it. She taps her hands twice on his back and pulls away, reaching up to push some of his hair off his forehead and Steve wills himself to not lean into the touch too much.
“Sorry for not saying a proper hello earlier, I was a bit preoccupied. Eddie- well, that’s not my thing to tell but he needed some help with something and… well, you get it,” she smiles, laughs a little, and Steve smiles back.
This. This is what he wishes he could have with his parents. This lightness, this love. He never will, he knows that, but the little moments like this with Joyce, the way she hugs him and cares for him, are ones he treasures. Ones he wishes he could have everyday. Joyce is a wonderful mother, and part of him wishes he could have her as his own. Hell, she’s been more of a mother to him in the four years he’s known her than his mother ever has. But he knows that isn’t fair. It isn’t fair of him to put his parental issues on her or anyone else. So he doesn’t, and shoves his hands in his pockets instead.
“It’s okay, Ms. Byers, I get it. Sorry to interrupt you two, though,” he apologizes. She waves her hands in a shooing motion.
“Oh don’t apologize for that, honey, it’s okay,” she smiles, then hesitates. “I do want you to promise me something, okay?” Steve nods, and Joyce places her hands on either side of his face. “Promise me you’ll be careful with people, be gentle. Not everyone can be treated the same, some people… they’re special.
“Sometimes, it’s better to listen. Promise me, Steve, that you’ll always listen, okay?” She asks, and Steve has to swallow before he responds.
“I promise, Ms. Byers,” he replies, and she pats his cheek. Her smile has grown, and her eyes have softened.
“I love you, Steve, you know that, right?” Joyce asks, and it’s like the world has stopped moving. He didn’t know that, not really. Sure, he knew she liked him but he didn’t know she…
He doesn’t realize he’s tearing up until Joyce coos at him, wiping away a few stray tears that have escaped with her thumbs.
“I-I didn’t know you- I’m sorry, I don’t-“ Steve stutters out, but Joyce shushes him.
“You don’t have to apologize, Steve, it’s alright,” she insists. Her thin arms pull him into another hug and he buries his face in her shoulder. The angle is a little awkward, but it’s a comfort Steve hasn’t had in ages so he stays. “It’s gonna be alright.”
Her small hands rub up and down his back as he holds back tears. He regulates his breathing, taking in deep breaths and letting them out slowly, until he’s sure he won’t cry. He pulls back from the hug and wipes at his eyes, sure that they're red-rimmed and a little puffy, but Joyce only smiles that warm smile and pats his cheek again. Steve smiles at her, the first genuine smile he thinks he’s had in awhile, and it feels good. To smile and know it's real.
Joyce turns to the counter behind her and picks up a plate, handing it to Steve. His brows furrow, and he hesitantly takes the offered crockery.
“How did you-“
“I had a feeling,” she interrupts him with a wink. “Now go on before Hop burns the yard down.”
Steve smiles and goes back outside, handing the plate to Hop and ignoring his grumble of “took ya long enough”, before picking his beer back up and taking a much needed swig. A few minutes later, they’re all eating. Eddie has joined Dustin and Lucas in their rambling, all three of them loudly talking over one another. Steve watches them; wishing, wanting, yearning. Joyce bumps her shoulder into his, making him swivel his head to look down at her. She smiles, almost knowingly, and Steve blushes. He clears his throat and looks away, focusing on fixing his burger rather than whatever the fuck that was.
He sits alone away from the group, catching occasional glances from Joyce, Dustin, and Hopper. Joyce is concerned, he can tell that much, and part of her almost looks sad. Dustin looks conflicted, like he can’t decide if he wants to be mad from a distance or just come right up to Steve and say it to his face. Steve wouldn’t be surprised if he did the latter. Hopper, to Steve’s complete unsurprise, looks uninterested and, frankly, fed up with this whole situation. Steve doesn’t blame him, he is too.
After the food is gone, and dessert is served, Steve heads inside to help clean up. He washes dishes quietly with Joyce, while she dries them and puts them away. As he finishes up the last plate, Will comes into the kitchen.
“Hey, Mom? The party wanted to play some board games, is that okay?” He requests, and Steve can feel Joyce soften beside him. She smiles.
“Of course, honey. Make sure you ask the girls what they want to play, too, okay?” Will rolls his eyes and smiles, a mannerism Steve notes he definitely got from Mike.
“Got it, Mom,” he replies, and runs off. Steve turns back to the sink, realizing he’s been scrubbing the plate well past the point of clean, and rinses it off.
“I um.. I think I’m going to head out, Ms. Byers,” he begins. He hands the plate to her. “I’ve got a shift tomorrow and uh… I don’t want to intrude or anything.”
He doesn’t mention that he doesn’t want to repeat the last game night, where everyone kept glancing at him like he was a bomb set to explode at any moment. He doesn’t say that he can’t handle their stares for any longer than he already has.
“Oh, are you sure? You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want to,” Joyce offers, but Steve shakes his head.
“I really should be going, sorry.”
“Alright, dear. Let me walk you out,” she insists, moving to take off her apron.
“I’ll walk him out, Joyce, don’t worry about it,” Hopper's gruff voice interrupts from the doorway. Steve swallows and nods, drying his hands off on a towel. He looks at Joyce, seeing her share a glance and a smile with Hopper before looking back at him. He smiles, finally beginning to think that maybe… maybe things will be okay.
“Thank you, Ms. Byers. For everything,” he expresses. He leans down to give her a hug, her arms quickly hugging him back.
“It’s alright, dear. You come to me if you ever want to talk, you hear?” Steve pulls away from the hug.
“I will, promise,” he hesitates. Steve looks down at his hands, shaking from where they’re clutching each other, and takes a breath. “I… I love you too.”
He looks up right as Joyce pulls him into another hug. He laughs a little, and she pats his back before pulling away with a “be safe”. Hopper clears his throat from the door and Steve takes a step back, nods to Joyce, and follows the other man outside.
They step out on the front porch together, and Steve is prepared to continue walking to his car when Hop places a hand on his shoulder. He stops, and turns to find the man looking at him seriously.
“Son, I want you to promise me something,” he grumbles, and Steve begins to feel a strange sense of deja vu. While Joyce’s tone was soft, Hopper’s is deep and leaves no room for hesitation. He vaguely has a thought that this is what his father would have been like if things were different. If he were different. Steve nods.
“Promise me you’ll fix our shit, alright? I don’t wanna get in the middle of… whatever the hell this is but promise you’ll be better, okay?” He commands, and all the thoughts Steve had earlier about thinking things would be okay fly out the window.
“Y-yes, sir,” he stutters out. Hop claps his shoulder, mumbles a “get home safe”, before pulling a pack of smokes out his pocket and lighting one up. Steve turns, shoves his shaking hands in his pockets, and walks to his car.
Getting in his car is a blur of unconscious actions. He’s driving down a barely lit backroad when he registers that his eyes are stinging, and something warm and wet is dripping down his cheeks. He pulls over on the side of the road, shifting his car into park, and he sits there. He reaches up with a shaky hand and wipes his cheek, his hand coming back wet and shining in the faint glow of the moon. The sight breaks him, and an ugly sob rips its way out his throat. He chokes on an inhale as tears fight their way out, and he hugs his arms around himself as a sad semblance of comfort. His forehead finds purchase on the steering wheel, and his tears stain the leather before dripping on his lap.
He cries because he knows he’s the problem, that he’s the one fucking up. He cries because everyone thinks so, everyone knows. The kids know. Eddie knows. Joyce knows, but she’s just too kind to say it to his face. Hell, even Hopper knows. He cries because he doesn’t know what he did wrong. He cries because he doesn’t think anyone really wants him to fix it.
It’s the second time on a drive home from the Byers-Hopper house that he has to pull over and cry.
He struggles to inhale a deep breath and sits up, harshly wiping his tears away with his hand, uncaring that it rubs his skin raw and red. Sniffling, he puts his car in drive and goes home. Toeing his shoes off at the door is the only thing he thinks to do before he stumbles his way upstairs and collapses on his bed, snuggling into the thin comforter and falling into a fitful sleep.
After a slow shift at Family Video the next day, Steve returns to the darkness of his home with a plan. He can still be useful. They may not have to know, but he can still do something to help. To try and save them before they need to be saved. He can be a preventative measure for them, can stop them from getting hurt before they even know they’re in danger.
He shrugs off his work vest, throwing it on his desk chair as he searches his closet for an old sweatshirt. He finds one, the front adorned with white block letters that read ‘Tigers Swim Team’ and tugs it on. His nail bat finds purchase in his hand as he tucks a flashlight in his back pocket. The walkie Dustin gave him is hooked in his belt loop, just in case. He leaves all the lights on in the house and shuts the door, skirting around his house to begin his walk in the woods.
After four bouts with the Upside Down, he doubts that they’re in the clear, that it’s finally over. He thought it was the first time, then the second, and by the third he was skeptical. Now, though, he doesn’t know what to think. He wouldn’t be surprised if there was a round five, or six, or seven. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if it never stopped. But each and every time, they were unprepared. They were surprised, and it nearly cost them every time. But if Steve could prevent that surprise, give them all a heads up before it becomes a big problem, then maybe— just maybe— it’ll come in handy. He’ll come in handy. He’ll be useful again.
So, he walks the woods of Hawkins. His feet crunch the dead leaves piled underneath trees as he trudges through the woods. The flashlight shines long shadows on the ground in front of him, lighting up the pale gray bark of trees and making the eyes of rodents and raccoons shine amber and red.
A rustle sounds a few feet away and he jumps at the noise. He pauses and stands still, listening for the shrill chittering of demodogs or the heavy, thudding footsteps of a demogorgon. He waits, and his flashlight reveals a small fox walking out from behind a tree. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and continues walking.
His feet carry him to Lover’s Lake, the water lapping lazily at the shore with the warm summer breeze. Out here, the lights from town are distant, making the stars shine brightly and reflect in the water. Steve stands there, watches as the artificial light of his flashlight reveals the small ripples on the surface of the water, and waits.
He waits for a lumbering figure to emerge out of the murky depths, to claw its way onto the shore and stalk off into the woods. He waits for chirps muffled by water and splashing to sound in his ears as four-legged creatures swim to the beaches. He waits for the screeches of demonic bats to echo off the trees around him as they fly out of the water and take to the sky. He waits, but it never comes. The lake stays silent.
So he walks.
He follows the road leading to the lake out, letting it take him to the highway that leads out of town. His feet stop as they come across a crack in the road, the crack he took in the other world to get Eddie home safely. The crack that is closed over with black tar, leaving a dark line on the ashen gray asphalt. He remembers clawing his way out of that crack, Eddie’s lifeless body over his shoulders as he slowly bled out.
Nancy had driven her station wagon over, opening the back so he could lay Eddie down as they rode to the hospital. She had asked Steve to drive so she could patch him up, but he refused. He couldn’t leave Eddie, not when he finally got him out. Not when he was barely hanging on. So she threw the first aid kit she had stashed in her car at him and drove to the hospital. Steve had done his best to stop the bleeding, the stark white cloth immediately turning red when he pressed it to Eddie’s skin. They almost lost him. But they didn’t. He’s alive.
Eddie. Eddie.
His head swivels to the forest next to him, the one that leads straight to the trailer park, and he runs. He jumps over fallen trees, feet thudding against the dry earth and leaves as his breath picks up. Orange street lights shine through branches as he draws nearer, and he only slows his pace when he breaks out from the line of trees. His feet swiftly take him to the sight of Eddie’s old trailer, the vacant lot standing out against the fullness of the park. The wooden front steps are still there, partially broken and shifted. The grass has yet to grow in fully, bare spots of dirt showing through the green. His shoes crunch on the gravel as he takes a step closer, inspecting the ground and poking at it with his bat as if it would move. As if the gate would open up just by him being here.
It doesn’t. Steve steps back.
He turns to leave the park, eyes wandering and finding a familiar cream-colored van parked at a trailer a few rows away. Eddie and his Uncle were granted a new trailer for their trouble, really the bare minimum they deserve after all the shit they went through, but they took it in stride. Eddie and Wayne spent the first few weeks after spring break making it into their new home once Eddie was released from the hospital, and Steve had done his best to help them out. But he knew they needed time alone, time to heal, so he let them be. He hasn’t been back there since then.
He kicks a stray piece of gravel, watching as it tumbles a few feet away and disappears into the grass, as he makes his way out of Forest Hills. Houses blur by as he walks the residential streets, only stopping when his own comes into view. Steve sighs, and walks up the concrete driveway, through the large wooden doors, and into the silence of his house. He doesn’t bother taking off his shoes, reveling a little in the dirty footprints he leaves behind on his mothers’ ornate runner that covers the length of the hallway. The analog on the stove tells him it's a little past three in the morning, and he sighs. Grabbing a glass from the cabinet, he fills it up with water before shuffling out of the kitchen. He flops on the couch, sips his water, and waits.
He waits for the sun to peek over the trees in the backyard, casting long shadows on the curtains that cover the windows and glass doors. He waits for the warm rays to shine through the large window in the living room, the one that faces the road, and light up the rug that rests under the coffee table in soft hues of yellow. He sits his empty glass on the table. He waits. And he gets up.
He goes upstairs, changes his shirt, and grabs his vest. Steve slips the walkie off his belt loop and places it on his desk, the flashlight landing right beside it. He props the bat next to his chair, and Steve looks at it, looks at the bent nails sticking haphazardly out of the wood and how it splintered in places from too much force. How some of the nails are covered in dried, blackened goop and dirt. How it's sharp and dangerous, a weapon. How it’s chosen to protect.
At this moment, Steve feels like the bat. The rough wood is his exterior, the splinters through it are the cracks. The holes in his facade. The places where people got too close, where people hurt him. The nails are what makes him strong. They’re the kids, Joyce and Hop, Eddie and Robin. They’re his family. They mold him into a weapon meant to protect, to keep them safe.
But just like Steve, the bat isn’t needed until it’s necessary. Until the world is ending. But until that time comes, the bat is left out of sight. It’s hidden away, moved from place to place just in case, but never used. Never wanted.
Steve walks out the door.
His shift at Family Video passes by like every other day, slow and full of know-it-all customers that never seem to understand that he can’t magically summon movies out of his ass whenever they ask. Robin comes in around lunchtime, and they spend the rest of their joint shift making fun of the ridiculous movie covers that adorn various romcoms. He goes home alone, sheds his vest, and once again walks the town of Hawkins.
He does it again the next night. And the night after that. And the night after that. Until it’s been a week and Steve hasn’t slept for more than a couple hours a night. He doesn’t mind, just means there’s less nightmares to wake him up before sunrise.
Less nights where chittering and the thuds of heavy footsteps strike fear down to his core. Less nights where the chill of fog and night air pierce his skin, warring with his senses against the hot breath hitting the back of his neck from deadly flower-shaped mouths. Less nights where the harsh scraping of monstrous nails against rusted metal and the echoey bangs of heavy, meaty bodies against solid bus walls fill his ears. Less nights where he can feel the thick, choking air of the tunnels, can feel the wispy particles filling his lungs and coating the inside of his mouth.
Less nights filled with muffled Russian echoing in his ears, the harsh texture of rope around his wrists, arms, and chest. Less nights where the sickening crunch of fists against bone and the metallic taste of blood in his mouth linger for hours after he’s awoken, shallowly breathing and pleading to be let go. Less nights where he can feel the blood in his teeth, coating his tongue and dripping down the back of his throat, and he has to run to the bathroom to puke the phantom feeling away.
Less nights he wakes up alone, empty house hollow around him. Less nights he cries to himself in the silence of his room, wishing, hoping, yearning for something. For something to happen, to change. For something to get better. For him to get better.
On the eighth night, he finds his feet have taken him to the edge of Hawkins. The brown road sign reads ‘Leaving Hawkins! Come Again Soon!’, and it stares at him from a few feet away. He looks past the sign at the stretch of road that disappears around a curve, trees following the line of asphalt and distant street lights lighting up their leaves with an orange glow.
He thinks about what it would be like to leave Hawkins, to pack up his clothes in his car and leave town. To follow the road and go around that curve, to not worry about ever coming back. No one needs him here, not anymore, so what’s holding him back?
Maybe this will fix him.
Robin might miss him for a bit, probably curse him and his whole family when she figures it out, but she’ll move on. She’ll find someone better. Hell, she’ll probably go to Eddie too. They already have some sort of secret friendship thing going on between them anyway. Really, he wouldn’t blame her.
Eddie probably wouldn’t care. Shit, he might even throw a party celebrating the fact that he’s gone. Steve snorts at the thought, closing his eyes and taking a breath.
Would it really be so bad if he just disappeared?
But then there’s the kids, left behind with no one to protect them. Sure, Robin and Eddie and Nancy are here, but Nancy is off to Emerson in the fall, Robin surely bound to follow in similar footsteps, and Eddie has made it well-known that he’s getting the hell out of here. If everyone is gone, who will be here to protect them when it comes back?
He rakes a hand harshly through his hair, pulling a bit at the ends and hating how greasy it feels on his fingertips. He can’t think like that, he’ll just worry himself into a panic and that’s the last thing he needs right now; a panic attack on the side of the road. He turns around, walking back towards town as the sky fades into light. He gets home right when sunlight begins burning the tops of the trees and collapses on the couch, sleeping until his noon shift.
He’s exhausted when he gets home, having to close up Family Video after a ten hour shift by himself, but he knows he can’t sleep. Not now. So he does what he usually does now when he gets home and grabs his essentials for his rounds, something that’s become routine for him.
He shrugs off his work clothes, replacing it with what has become his patrol outfit; the old swim team sweatshirt and a faded, ripped pair of light blue jeans. The sweatshirt is filled with holes, the baggy sleeves having caught on briars and branches alike, that allow the white of his shirt to show through. The jeans share a similar fate, the knees scraped up and the denim fraying from the unhemmed edges.
His white Nikes are stained a gray-ish brown from the nightly treks through the woods, small bits of leaves and debris sticking to the laces and in the grooves of the tread. The flashlight finds its place in his back left pocket, an extra pair of batteries landing in his front pocket after an incident a few nights ago where his flashlight died on him out in the middle of nowhere— he was forced to stumble through the woods until the sun began to rise and he was able to find his way back home. He didn’t sleep that night.
The nail bat is crusted with dried bits of mud sticking to the slowly rusting metal, shredded bits of leaves and undergrowth tangled in a green and brown mass. Clumps of dirt litter the floor under the bat, and likely mark a line in the hallway from his room down to the front door. Steve hopes it's still there if his parents come home.
It’s dark outside, only the street light at the end of the driveway illuminates the concrete and stepping stone pathway to the front door. Steve steps out on the front stoop, taking a deep breath of cool summer night air, and starts walking.
He walks out onto the street, uncaring at this point if anyone sees him or not. What does he have to lose? Hopper would probably tell him he’s stupid— something he’s well aware of at this point— and tell him to go inside. Or maybe he would drive him home, take the bat, and leave.
A small, traitorous part of Steve wants Hop to find him. Wants him to ask what the hell he’s doing walking around at night alone in the dark. Wants him to coax him in his old beat up truck and take him back to the Byers’ house. Wants some of Joyce’s hot chocolate as he sits on the couch and explains what he’s been doing, what’s been going on. Ask, desperately, why everyone hates him. Wants them to tell him he’s wrong, that no one hates him. That it’s just a misunderstanding.
But it doesn’t happen. All of that is a lie.
It’s a lie Steve has secretly been telling himself under the cover of darkness alone in his bed, lying awake and exhausted but unable to sleep. It’s a lie he tells himself when he sees any of the kids so he can act normal, act okay. It’s a lie he tells himself when Eddie grins at him, wide and gleaming, eyes sparkling with the afternoon sun beaming in from the storefront windows.
It’s those grins, those looks Eddie gives him sometimes that almost convinces him the lie is fake. Like Eddie is sharing an inside joke with him, only Steve doesn’t know what it is. Eddie doesn’t come around often but when he does… god, it’s like he’s the only one in the room.
Eddie looks at him with his whole body, always focusing on him so wholly and touching in some way. A hand on his bicep, an arm slung around his shoulder, even his arms wrapped around his waist one time. He was friendly, they were friends, until he wasn’t. Until Steve did something stupid that he still can’t figure out and Eddie is avoiding him.
The crunch of gravel under his sole brings him back into his head a little. He looks up, finding the pale orange glow of a lamp through a trailer window, and curses. His feet have brought him to where his mind always seems to go these days: Eddie.
He stands outside of the trailer, watching the way the little bits of weeds around the base shift and sway in the wind. The sky is filled with patches of clouds, light gray ripples standing out against the black sky from the glow of the moon. Steve isn’t completely sure how he got here, only that he started walking and didn’t really… stop.
Wayne’s truck is gone, leaving only Eddie’s cream-colored van among the gravel and grass. Which means Eddie is home and, judging by the light in the window, awake. Steve has a fleeting thought that he should turn around, walk back home, and try to forget he ever came here. Try to forget that he didn’t mean to, that his head and his heart are traitorous beings that have conspired against him to bring his body to the one place— one person— where he isn’t welcome. He tries to move, to will his legs and his feet to catch up with his brain and the urge to run. But they don’t. They stay frozen to the ground, rooted in place as if they belong here. As if he belongs here.
A voice cuts his thoughts off, one that he could pick out in a crowd full of people. His eyes snap to the front door of the trailer, now open and spilling warm light onto the wooden steps that lead down to the gravel drive. A figure grows near, tall and lanky and Steve feels like he’s trapped. His thoughts get louder, yelling and screaming at him to run run ruN RUN RUN-
Hands on his shoulders. Eddie’s face in front of him.
Eddie looks panicked, his dark eyes wide and dancing around as if searching Steve's face for… something. He must not find it, because the two little lines between his brows appear and his mouth starts moving. It’s all muffled, like he’s trying to talk through glass. Steve blinks.
“-ington? Steve,” Eddie’s pleading voice finds his ears as he shakes his shoulders, the fog in his head dissipating as the strained way his name falls from his lips. Steve hums. He blinks again.
“Oh,” he breathes out, voice barely louder than a whisper. Eddie is here. He’s in front of him. He can see him. He’s here and he can see and Steve shouldn’t be here he needs to go-
“Stevie, are you okay?” The fear in Eddie’s voice cuts off his train of thought— something that seems to happen a lot nowadays— and Steve feels every sensation return to his body. The heavy hands on his shoulders, soft and warm and missing their signature rings. The distant chill of the night air on his exposed bits of skin seeping away at the small amount of space between them. The faint puff of air on his face from the man before him. The fact that all of those things are from Eddie.
Steve clears his throat, swallows. Tries to focus his eyes on Eddie’s face.
“I’m fine, Eddie. I um.. sorry,” he trails off. He tries to smile, at least give something to reassure him, to keep him from asking questions. Steve doesn’t think he could answer them.
To his surprise, Eddie lets out a breath of relief, the fear dissipating from his eyes as they clench shut and his head drops. His shoulders move with his lungs as he takes a breath before looking back up at him.
“Jesus H. Christ, you scared the shit outta me, Steve. Thought…” he trails off. His voice wavers. “Thought you were gone. Like… like her.”
Oh. Chrissy. Fuck.
“Shit- sorry, Eds, I didn’t even realize- fuck, I’m so sorry,” Steve pleads. He takes in his surroundings, realizes he’s been standing out here, alone, for who knows how long. He needs to leave. “I-I should go.”
Eddie’s brows furrow, and he tilts his head. “You don’t have to leave, Stevie, it’s fi-“ he cuts himself off.
Steve looks up at that, unsure of when he stopped looking at Eddie, and takes in his pinched expression. The one that’s trained to the ground. The one that’s trained towards-
“What the fuck is this?”
Shit.
“I-it’s not what it looks like, I swear!” He begs, voice sounding unfamiliar even to his own ears. It’s raspy and breaks after a few words. When was the last time he really spoke to anyone today?
“I don’t wanna hurt you, Eds, I really don’t- please, believe me,” he pleads. “It’s just for protection! I don’t-“
“Why are you covered in mud, Steve?” Eddie cuts him off, voice strange and cautious and his hands tighten their grip on his shoulders. Steve knows he doesn’t look the best, knows that his clothes are dirty, but he looks down at himself anyway. His eyes focus on a leaf stuck to his shoelace. He shrugs.
Eddie moves in front of him, a quick thing that Steve suspects is him shaking his head. He mumbles something he can’t hear, voice only a rumble in his throat but Steve knows enough to know that people only talk under their breath when they’re mad. When he’s done something wrong.
He pulls away. Eddie’s hands drop off his shoulders.
“I-I should go. Sorry for bothering you, an-… and keeping you awake,” Steve stutters out, clearing his throat when his voice breaks. He chances a look at him, finding concern written on Eddie’s face. It softens when they make eye contact, and Eddie shakes his head.
“I wasn’t asleep, Stevie. Don’t really, uh.. sleep much, these days. I usually just wait around for Wayne to get home to catch a couple hours. Doesn’t feel safe here by myself, you know?” Eddie confesses, mouth turned upwards in a small, sardonic smile. Steve nods. He does know, he’s never felt safe in his home. With or without people. He’s been going through it for years, long before the events of ‘83. He doesn’t say any of that though, doesn’t think he has the right to.
Eddie steps towards him, closing the bit of distance Steve made between the two, and rests his hand on the arm holding the bat.
“Come inside, Steve,” Eddie requests, voice low and soft. Eddie’s smiling at him. It’s that soft, small, Eddie smile. One that Steve has only seen a handful of times. It’s asking him to say yes, and Steve… he’s weak. So, so weak.
“Okay.”
Eddie’s smile grows.
His hand wraps further around his arm, tugging him towards the open trailer door and Steve feels betrayed that now is when his feet decide to move. He follows Eddie, watching the way he’s glancing at him the entire time. Eddie pauses at the doorway.
“Steve,” he whispers, and Steve looks at him. His hand travels down his arm, causing goosebumps in its wake despite the layer of fabric between their skin. It pauses over the hand still gripping the bat, thumb brushing along his knuckles. “Let it go.”
Steve looks at him, searches those dark brown eyes for fear or hate or anger but finds none. He only finds care. Concern. Love.
It’s terrifying.
He loosens his grip and Eddie takes it from him, the comforting weight of the bat replaced with the warmth of Eddie’s hand. He props it just inside the door to the trailer and leads him over the threshold by the grip on his hand. He’s led over to the couch where a hand on his back urges him to sit down. Steve does, and instantly sinks into the well-worn cushions.
“I’ll be right back, okay? Just gonna get you some water,” Eddie informs him, squeezing his hand briefly before releasing his grip and turning the corner to venture into the kitchen. Steve watches him go, the way the baggy and worn band shirt hangs off his frame. The way his sweatpants are bunched up at the ankle as if they’re too big for him. The way his hair is pulled into a messy bun at the back of his head that swings a little when he walks away. Even now, he’s beautiful.
Shit. He’s so gone for this man.
Eddie returns with a glass of water and flops down on the couch beside him, pressing the cool surface of the cup into his palm. He takes it with a shaky hand, his other joining it to help stabilize the glass. It doesn’t work.
He takes a small sip of water, the liquid feeling like heaven against his dry throat. They sit in silence until Steve finishes half the glass. Then, Eddie speaks.
“Why were you outside at two in the morning, Stevie?” His voice is gentle, and it makes Steve want to cry. He swallows.
“I- I don’t know,” he deflects, lies. Anything to not talk about it.
The harsh sound of a mock game show buzzer startles him, and he turns to find Eddie with his hands cupped around his mouth. Steve grins and lets his head drop, and Eddie nudges his shoulder. He takes a deep breath, focusing on the surface of the water in his hands.
“I have to keep them safe, Eddie,” he confesses. Eddie stays silent, hand gently rubbing his forearm. “It’s what I need to do. What I have to do.”
Silence stretches between them, then, “who, Steve? Who do you have to keep safe?”
‘You,’ he wants to say. ‘You almost died. It’s never been that close before, not in the four years this shit has been going on. You and Max almost died, and I wasn’t there to protect you. I wasn’t with you and Dustin to keep you both safe, to help fight off the bats and urge you through the gate. I wasn’t with Max and Lucas and Erica, wasn’t there to fight off Carver and save Max just a little bit earlier. I wasn’t there, but I should have been. Carver should have beat me to pieces, not Lucas. It should have been me the bats got to, not you. It should have been me, it should have been me, it should have been me.’
Hands fall over his as Eddie takes the glass from him. He didn’t realize his hands were shaking that bad in his revere, causing the water to spill over the sides and onto the brown carpet below them. The glass thunks on the coffee table before Eddie rests his hands over Steve’s, stills their shaking.
“Hey, talk to me, Stevie,” he practically begs. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
Steve looks at him, sees the worry in his eyes, and wets his lips with his tongue. Doesn’t miss the way Eddie’s eyes flicker down at the movement. He clenches his fists.
“Please don’t tell Robin,” he pleads. If she found out about this, if she knew, he wouldn’t be allowed outside alone ever again. She would worry about him, keep him under lock and key to make sure he wouldn’t do anything stupid. She would stay with him during the night, insert herself firmly by his side until she was sure he was okay. She would make him sleep in his own bed, trapped between his own walls. Trapped in his own house. He can’t stand that place, can’t handle the echoey walls and empty rooms. Can’t stand not being able to do anything for anyone. Can’t stand to be useless.
He’s just wasting time right now. He shouldn’t be here, talking to Eddie, when he could be checking the gates. He should be out there trying to save people, not himself. He should be trying to save his family. He could already be too late. It might have already come back while he was distracted and they could all be gone. It could have been waiting until he was occupied, waiting for an opening to strike. They could be in danger right now. They could be dead.
“Alright, I can do that. I won’t tell her but… Steve, why-“ Steve cuts him off by standing up on shaky legs, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Steve?”
“I need to go, Eddie, I need to- they could- I need to go,” the words tumble out of his mouth, words he isn’t quite sure even make sense but he doesn’t care. He just needs to get out.
Steve walks over to the door, eyes locking on the bat propped there, before he hears Eddie stand up behind him. He turns to find Eddie holding his hands out in front of him like he’s trying to placate a wild animal and, at this moment, he kinda feels like one. His heart is beating too fast and he can feel his breathing quicken. His throat closes up as panic claws its way upwards and clouds his vision, muffling his hearing. Eddie’s mouth moves but Steve can’t hear it through the cotton in his ears. He backs towards the door, hating the fear in Eddie’s eyes as he does so.
His back hits the wall next to the door and he turns, hand finding the rough wood of the bat almost instantly, before he runs out the door. The small “sorry” he lets out is an afterthought, thrown over his shoulder right before the trailer door slams shut behind him and his feet crunch on gravel as he runs towards town.
His blind panic takes him to Dustin’s house first, finding all the lights turned off save for the faint glow of the hall night light through sheer curtains. He stays there for a minute or two, waiting for the sign of flickering lights. Nothing comes.
A couple streets over, he stops in front of Lucas’s house, finds the same thing. Dark. He stands there and waits. No flickering. He runs.
The Wheelers. Dark. He waits, no flickering. He runs.
The Byers-Hoppers. Dark. Waits. No flickering. Runs.
Max. Dark. Waits. Dark. Runs.
Robin. Dark. Waits. Dark. Runs.
His house. Light.
They’re safe. He collapses.
He sits heavily on the front stoop, bat falling to the ground and knocking against the concrete with a thud. His knees come up to his chest and his arms wrap tightly around them as he rasps for breath, the air coming in short, quick bursts. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of his calves, hard enough to leave bruises. His forehead rests heavily on his knees and his eyes sting, welling with tears as the fear slowly fades away.
He sits outside, struggling for breath until the sun begins to rise, and waits. When the sun finds its way over the trees, he makes his way inside to get ready for his opening shift.
The bat finds a new home in his trunk.
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luveline · 8 months
Text
𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐟𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚
you have to find new ways to communicate when a cold leaves you voiceless. miguel is less than happy —featuring grumpy miguel and his cheerful spider-girl. requested here. fem!reader, 2.3k.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Miguel's hackles hike as you appear. You have an obsession with toying with him and he's in the middle of something more important than your whims and wants.
"Don't start," he warns, barely looking at you. 
You point at yourself as if to say, Who, me? Grinning, you pull your arms behind your torso tightly, your shoulders harsh slopes where they'd usually be lax with calm. Your spider suit strains against the movement, shining with a subtle shimmer as you twirl your way into his side. You blink up at him, mock-innocent. 
"What did I just say?" he asks. 
He's expecting a charming rebuttal he doesn't get. You're awfully charismatic; Miguel often thinks you've manufactured a devilish siren call that yanks him in like a fish on a line no matter how hard he tries to split his lip and flee.
You're pretty, sure, but it isn't your looks that endear you to him. You have this way of speaking that's effortlessly carefree, despite the frankly ridiculous depth of the well that is your fondness for the world. It shouldn't make sense, and it does: you're happy because you love the world. When you speak to him, annoy him, praise him and degrade him in the same breath, Miguel thinks you might love him, too. 
You're silent. Miguel takes it as a blessing and finishes analysing the footage playing in front of him. He finishes as quickly as he can, and he's not a dick, he says, "Thank you." Then, with an unimpressed eyebrow raise, "Where have you been?" 
You come to see him so often he kind of forgot you didn't have to. He's taken you for granted, he knows, and after three days of not seeing you he should be happier. He should've asked you about it as soon as you appeared. 
You shrug and point at his screen. He can practically see the question mark in your eyes. 
"That's nothing. What, you're not speaking to me now?" he asks. 
Paper creaks in your hand as you pull a sketchbook from your pocket. Small, lilac, you flip to the first page and show him the scrawled message there with a rueful smile. 
Miguel's expecting a cartoon version of himself, but instead you've written three words. 
I have laryngitis. 
Miguel's gaze flickers between you and your book, assessing the claim with scepticism. "Why would you have that? You're practically impervious to disease." 
You flip to the next page. 
Superbug from Earth-87222 defeated my enhanced healing.
One of your Peter Parker friends lives there. He isn't jealous (because he knows that particular Peter doesn't like girls). "And you can't talk?" he asks. 
The next page. I can't talk.
You tuck the book to your chest. Lips parted, you attempt to speak, but all that comes out is hot air and a cruel croaking scratch that makes his chest ache. 
"Don't hurt yourself," he says, softer than he'd been speaking beforehand. He can't decide whether to glare at you or pull you in for a hug. If he hugs you, you might attach yourself to him like that thing from Alien. He glares. "You could've told me." 
You gesture to your throat. I can't speak. 
"That you were sick, you know how to type. You bother me every day for weeks and then one day you stop showing up, and you don't answer your watch, what am I supposed to think?" 
You stare up at him dreamily. He swears you get off on being scolded half the time. 
Miguel takes your wrist into his hand and turns your wristband forward to showcase the screen. "You see this? You see when my prompt comes up? You could take ten seconds and hit me back." 
Again, you open your small sketchbook, turning to a fourth page. You've predicted him well.
I didn't want to worry you. Don't be mad, handsome, you'll get more wrinkles. 
"Tu sabes todo," he fumes. You know everything. "If you're so smart, you can help me recalibrate the pocket dimension storage." 
You flip a page. It's finally a drawing rather than a knowing line, your familiar artistry obvious in your weighted linework and rushed shading. It's Miguel, his expression one he isn't sure you would've actually seen to reference as well as you have, lovingly concerned with a speech bubble coming from beside his softly rendered hair. Get well soon, cariño. 
He scoffs. "You seem fine to me." 
In truth, you don't seem fine. Now he knows, he can see evidence of your days away. Your lips are chapped under the balm you've applied, your hair dishevelled (though it's often unruly, in line with your personality). You wince when you breathe too hard. Miguel lowers the platform and sets you up next to him on a workbench in the back of the laboratory beside him for purely professional purposes. He has to make sure you're doing the calibration correctly, that's all. 
He can't quite explain away the tea he gets for you from the cafeteria, nor the research he does on the way back to you, Lyla at his shoulder saying, "You're such a softie." 
You find you don't need the sketchbook to communicate. Miguel places your tea down and your smile alone is thanks enough. It's pure reverential delight. He doesn't really deserve it, so he pretends he doesn't see. 
When you need help with a recalibration, you take his wrist gently. You don't even need to point at the screen, the subtle uptilt of your brows enough clue.
"Here, you're almost there," he murmurs under his breath, distracted by the complicated code you've been editing in the corner of the screen. "Oh, is this what you do when I'm not looking?" 
You tug his elbow. 
"No? You're not messing around?" he asks, rolling his eyes. "You think I'm stupid." 
Your fingers tighten. Miguel clicks a couple of things to finish the calibration. He looks at you from over his shoulder. Your face is near. It radiates heat. He bites the tip of his gloved finger and yanks it off clean to press the back of his naked hand to your forehead. 
"You're warm," he says, patting carefully downward. Your skin is as hot as he'd worried. 
Miguel drops his hand without rush, the side of his pinky tracing down your cheek. "Maybe you shouldn't be here." 
You shake your head vehemently. There's something in it he doesn't understand, an uncharacteristic shyness. He supposes he'd feel the same if he were sick like this, but you have no reason to be ashamed of a bad cold.
"Enough calibration, then. Take it easy." 
You do not take it easy. Your first port of call is to request to share his screen. He grants you permission and rescinds it soon after, irked when the majority of his monitor becomes wallpapered by digital post it note drawings of him looking cranky and of you in a crown, a ship's captain's hat, standing on the moon. He sets them each back to the perimeter of his window and tries to work. Trust you to find ways to bother him without teasing aloud. 
He thinks that… but then, his hands falter over the keyboard. You aren't a bother. You irritate him but he kind of likes it, most of the time. He turns his head just enough to see your face, blue and white light kissing your skin. You glow. 
Miguel thinks about how he used to do this alone. Lyla on his shoulder when she felt like it but usually tinkering in the quiet, trying to stop the end of the world, the pressure akin to how Atlas himself must have felt, knees locked and arms braced above his head to stop the Earth falling into the black abyss. Miguel doesn't always know what he's being punished for (or, he didn't). He doesn't know why this ended up on his plate, but the panic of doing it alone ebbs every day. With you by his side, unshakeable if not unfailing, it feels less like a death sentence and more like a problem that needs solving. He can't save everyone, but he can try. He can't stomach the agony of his life if he thinks about the past; you make it easy to stay present. 
Who would he rather have here than you? Out of everyone living that he knows, you're the only person he could stand to sit with for this long. 
It's not the same without your voice. Your murmurings, your kind doting, your put upon and less-so confusion. He misses it more than he can say in that moment, worse when you feel his eyes and turn to face him with a soft smile. 
Everything okay? you ask without asking. 
You don't need to speak. He can see it on your face. 
Miguel gets up from his bench to tower over you. Without giving it too much thought, he bends down, wrapping his right arm behind your shoulders, the left loose over your front, and kisses your forehead with the barest of pressures. It's hardly a kiss at all, and it makes no noise. More like he's resting his lips there, his nose at your hairline, breathing in. His hand rubs an up and down of its own accord into your upper arm, the soft fat of it melding under his touch. 
Your head dips back invitingly. You're like butter in the sun at his touch, a slow melting. 
"If you tell anyone about this, I'll deny it," he says quietly. 
You snort. You give his arm a pat and reach over it to grab your sketchbook. Miguel straightens but doesn't remove his arms, watching as you flick to the right page. 
I can't talk, the page says. You beam at him.
"I see," Miguel says. "You think it's funny because you couldn't tell if you wanted to." 
Your answering hum comes with the feeling of your fingers latching onto his elbow. Exactly. 
Well, fuck it. If you can't tell anyone, Miguel might as well send it. He leans down to grab you up into his hold, a squeezing hug that says everything he wanted to tell you while you were gone, his worry for you and his annoyance at your lack of communication. You don't need audible words to tell him things, and Miguel doesn't need words either. Hopefully his arms around you and his nose digging too rough into your temple says how he feels plainly. 
"I figured you got sick of taking orders," he confesses. You got sick of me. "When you didn't come back." 
You refuse to act small —Miguel doesn't want you to—, standing despite the weight he'd been resting on you, turning in the circle of his arms to look up into his eyes. It's too much, Miguel doesn't want your face this close to his, not with the rawness of his feelings aching a trail up between each of his rib bones, one by one. He clenches his jaw. 
Your hand climbs to his ear. He stays very still. As the initiator he should be forgiving, but your fingers touch his ear and he contemplates sinking his teeth into your hand. You stroke hair away from his face with a dramatised expression that says it's in the way, pesky stuff, though the final fond tuck of it behind the shell of his ear is impossible to deny.
Your thumb rubs his earlobe. 
"Are you having fun?" he asks dryly.
Your nod is sincere. Enthusiastic, you start to ease your fingertips into the thick tresses of his hair. 
Miguel grabs your wrist in an iron grip. 
"Enough." 
He guesses more than knows what your pout means —that isn't fair. 
"Life isn't fair," he says, pressing your forearm to your chest, an action fraught with apology. It's ridiculous how much can be said without words. He'd like for you to get your voice back solely to end this confusing misery. Well, not solely… Miguel misses the sound of it, distinct as your lopsided smiles and unconventional hand movements. "You can file a complaint just as soon as you get your voice back, how's that?" 
You roll your eyes and sit back down on your bench. Miguel takes a lap around the laboratory to calm down, returning to a new program blinking on computer his taskbar to be opened. 
He doesn't give you the satisfaction of looking your way as he opens it. 
"Miguel!" The program chirps, in a voice jarringly close to yours but not nearly as sophisticated as the majority of language intelligence he uses in his own coding. "I was waiting for you, handsome! Where have you been? Now you're back, I have a very special song to sing for you. Sing along if you know this one! Alright… Ninety nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety nine bottles of beer! You take one down, pass it around, ninety nine bottles of beer…"
Miguel realises he can't mute or close the program shortly thereafter. Vocaloid you counts down to sixty one bottles of beer by the time he resigns to turning off his computer altogether, a headache twinging angrily behind his eyes. 
Maybe he could use a break from your voice after all. 
You giggle breathlessly at him as he drops his face into his hands. 
"Drink your tea," he orders, words muffled by his palms.
He doesn't look up. There's the sound of a big sip. Miguel pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. He's kidding himself —the sooner you get your voice back, the better. 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading!
2K notes · View notes
ssprayberrythings · 3 months
Text
two worlds collide | LN4
lando norris x actress!reader / smau fic 
fc: madelyn cline 
warnings: none, i just enjoy overindulging with fluff 
i got so carried away with this but honestly i’m proud of it so i hope you enjoy. also obx is one of my favourite shows which is why i decided on mads as my f/c so i could incorporate two of my passions !! 
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yourusername posted on their instagram
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ynismylife, ynloverr, iloveyn & others liked 
bored of these hotel rooms 
view all comments 
ynismylife: OMG MOM 
iloveynyl: SHES STUNNING 
ynsluvrr: IM DROOLING SHES SO PRETTY 
iloveyn: I WANT TO MARRY HER 
fanofyn: HOW IS SHE SINGLE 
╰ ynismylife: BEATS ME, I WOULD DATE HER IN A HEARTBEAT 
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yourusername posted on their story  
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caption: made it back home in enough time for the race 🏎️
*replies disabled* 
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madisonbaileybabe posted on their instagram
📍charleston, north carolina 
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obxluvrr, obxislife, maybankloverr, ynismylife & others liked 
the girls are back 
tagged: @yourusername 
view all comments 
obx4life: AH THEYRE BOTH SO PRETTY 
ynfan: Y/N ONE CHANCE PLEASE 
user5: drooling..
user7: cant tell if i want to be them or be with them 
yourusername: i was missing you big time 🫂
╰ liked by madisonbaileybabe 
ynupdates_ posted on their instagram 
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ynislife, obxfan, user5 & others liked 
y/n seen out with madison bailey the other night. happy to see the two outer banks co stars hangout even during their time off 
*comments disabled* 
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yourusername posted on their story  
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caption: where could we be going now @yourbestfriend 
╰ yourbestfriend: AH YOUR FANS ARE GONNA GO CRAZY WHEN THEY SEE US THIS WEEKEND 
yourbestfriend posted on their instagram
📍las vegas, nevada  
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ynfan, user20, user1 & others liked 
thanks y/n for being famous and taking me with you to cool events 🎰
tagged: @yourusername 
view all comments 
ynfan: AHHHH THEYRE IN LAS VEGAS 
user2: wish my best friend was famous, must be nice 
ynislife: wait does anyone know if the grand prix for f1 is happening this weekend too? cause y/n is an f1 fan and thAT WOULD BE SO COOL IF SHE WENT 
╰ f1fan: yes the vegas grand prix is this weekend !! 
╰ ynislife: omg OMG omg OMG 
yourusername: you’re welcome, no one else i’d rather have by my side 😘
╰ liked by yourbestfriend 
user7: y/n travels a lot and still manages to look like that? what is her skincare routine 😩
╰ user1: I WAS WONDERING THE SAME THING 
yourusername posted on their story  
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caption: this weekend is one for the books i can already tell 🤩
╰ f1: cant wait to see you in the paddock !! 
╰ yourbestfriend: super excited !! 
╰ redbullracing: thanks for joining us as a guest of red bull :) 
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redbullracing posted on their instagram  
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yourusername, maxverstappen1, landonorris & others liked 
what a great weekend in las vegas full of so much excitement with both of our drivers making podium, getting to see lots of stars come out & once again securing another win under our belt towards that final championship. keep up the good work everyone 🏆
#RedBullRacing #LasVegasGP
tagged: maxverstappen1, schecoperez, gordanramsey, sirrodstewart, yourusername 
view all comments 
ynfan: omg omg omg omg she met max ????
f1fan: Y/N WITH MAX WAS A CROSSOVER I NEVER REALIZED I NEEDED 
f1updates: people in paddock this weekend said Y/N was so happy to be there and was so grateful for the opportunity 
yourusername: thank you again for having me. its a weekend i’ll never forget ! 
╰ redbullracing: thanks for accepting our invitation, hope to see you around the paddock more often ! 
ynismylove: is no one talking about lando being in red bull’s likes ?? is that normal ?? 
╰ verstappenmaxfan: im not too sure now that i think about it 
Max was quietly scrolling on his phone after the Las Vegas grand prix, enjoying some down time before the final race of the season . He was just absently looking on tiktok when he received a phone call from none other than Lando. 
“Lando, mate how are you doing after the Las Vegas grand prix?” Max asked, knowing Lando had been taken to medic after his nasty crash at the recent grand prix 
“I’m good, still a bit sore but I’ve gotten the clear to race in the upcoming race so I’m looking forward to that” Lando explained “Thats not why I’m calling though” he continued 
“Oh. What’s up then?” Max asked slightly confused 
“Y/N Y/L/N was at the Las Vegas grand prix and you met her? How was she? She got invited by Red Bull, how did that work? Is she as pretty in person as she is on social media?” Lando rambled on 
“Lando take a breath” Max chuckled “But yes she was there, invited by Red Bull. I think they just reached out to her and asked if she wanted to come. How is she? Dude I don’t know, she’s nice, kept thanking everyone for the invitation, she told us she’s a massive F1 fan which was cool” Max answered the boys questions 
“And as for her looks, I have a girlfriend however yes she looks the same in person as she does in the media” He rolled his eyes even if Lando couldn’t see him. “Why are you so curious?” He asked his friend trying to understand where all this was coming from 
“She’s been one of my biggest celebrity crushes and I was so looking forward to hopefully getting to meet her when I found out she’d be there but then I crashed” He chuckled slightly at how much he sounded like a little kid “Then I saw you met her and just wanted to see what she was like” He explained to Max 
Max let out a laugh before answering the younger driver “Well Mate, you should have McLaren invite her to the final race of the season, this way you’ll get to meet her” Max suggested “Im sure she’ll accept, I believe she said filming for her show hasn’t started yet so she’s available” He explained to Lando 
“Ohhh maybe I’ll mention it to the admin team” Lando said more as a thought than a concrete response “Anyways I have to go, Oscar and I are filming a PR video. Thanks Max, see you in a couple days” Lando said before hanging up before Max could say anything else 
Max just laughed “Bye to you to” he said out loud before going back to scrolling on his phone. 
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yourbestfriend posted on their story  
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caption: little beach picnic before she’s off again to her next destination 
╰ yourusername: they said i could bring a +1, you can still come 🥺
╰ yourbestfriend: i have back to back shoots or else i would 🥺
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yourusername posted on their story
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caption: another day, another f1 race 🧡
╰ yourbestfriend: omg you made it! cant wait to hear all about it! 
╰ mclaren: so happy to have you join us for the last race of the season! 
yourusername posted on their instagram  
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ynislife, f1fan, landonorris, mclaren & others liked 
thanks mclaren for inviting me this weekend especially for the last race of the season. i had such a pleasure getting to meet everyone. cant wait for the 2024 season🧡
tagged: landonorris, mclaren
view all comments 
ynfan: OMGGGG SHE WENT TO ANOTHER RACE AND THIS TIME SHE WAS INVITED BY MCLAREN 
f1fan: I’M NOT DOING WELL 
mclarenlove: SHE LOOKS SO GOOD IN ORANGE WOOOO
mclaren: the pleasure was all ours, hopefully we get to see you in our garage more often, orange seems to be your colour 😉
╰ liked by yourusername
landonorris: it was so nice getting to meet you, we should hangout again
╰ user4: wait is this lando flirting? 
╰ user14: LANDO NORRIZ MAY ACTUALLY HAVE RIZ 
╰ yourusername: it was nice getting to meet you too & i’d love to hangout sometime 
╰ ynfanforlife: omMGGGGG WAIT I NEED TO KNOW WHAT LANDO DID IN ORDER TO WIN OUR GIRL OVER 
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yourusername posted on their instagram          
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landonorris, oscarpiastri, yourbestfriend, obx, ynylnismylove & others liked 
my life recently on film 🎞️ 
tagged: madisonbaileybabe, oscarpiastri, landonorris, chasestokes, drewstarkey, yourbestfriend
view all comments 
ynfan: OMG OBX X F1 CROSSOVER 
ynxf1lovers: OMG MY FAVES 
yourbestfriend: crazy time in sin city 🎰🍹🪩
╰ liked by yourusername 
chasestokes: living ur best life miss y/n 
╰ yourusername: you know it 😎
f1wagupdates: i know she’s not an official wag but can we make an exception cause i need to see y/n at more races 
╰ user4: AGREED ^ 
╰ ynloverr: A MOOD !!! 
oscarpiastri: youre such a vibe 
╰ yourusername: thank you thank you, i try 
╰ landonorris: send me the film pics, i need them for the .jpg account 
╰ yourusername: you got it ! 
landonorris: i feel so honoured to be featured on here 
╰ yourusername: you should, only the people i really like get posted 
╰ landonorris: is that you admitting you like me? ive been swooned 
╰ yourusername: 🙄
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lando.jpg posted on their instagram 
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yourusername, oscarpiastri, landonorris, yourbestfriend & others liked 
y/n making her debut on the .jpg account 
tagged: yourusername 
view all comments 
user4: WOOO EVERYONE WAKE UP LANDO POSTED ON THE .JPG ACCOUNT 
landoobsessed: OMGGGG THESE PHOTOS ARE STUNNING 
ynfanforlife: OMG Y/N IS STUNNING AS ALWAYS 
oscarpiastri: its giving soft launch 
╰ landonorris: no its not 
╰ liked by yourusername 
yourbestfriend: UHM Y/N CARE TO EXPLAIN @yourusername 
╰ yourusername: nope..im good 
user4: SO ARE WE ALL FREAKING OUT OR IS IT JUST ME 
╰ user5: I AM TOO 
╰ y/nfan: ME THREE 
╰ user15: ME X4 
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yourusername posted on their story  
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caption: 🧡 
╰ yourbestfriend: HELLO???? THIS IS SO RELATIONSHIPY, I NEED DETAILS 
╰ yourusername: ITS NOT A RELATIONSHIP….I MEAN NOT YET 
╰ yourbestfriend: OMGGGGG 
landonorris posted on their story  
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caption: this is the best you’re gonna get with a soft launch 
╰ oscarpiastri: is it a soft launch if you’ve already posted her on the .jpg account 🤔
╰ landonorris: get out 
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yourusername posted on their instagram  
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landonorris, yourbestfriend, obx & others liked 
certified lover girl 
view all comments 
yourbestfriend: my best friend is a stunner
╰ yourusername: says you 
obx: consider us certified y/n lovers 
╰ yourusername: i love you guys 
ynfan: SHES GLOWING FOR REAL 
landoandynaremyparents: PLEASE JUST TELL ME YOU AND LANDO ARE DATING SO I CAN REST IN PEACE 
landonorris: no comment, im speechless 
╰ yourusername: youre not slick 
oscarpiastri: Y/N LANDOS REACTION TO THIS WAS PRICELESS, YOU CAUGHT HIM SO OFF GUARD 
╰ yourusername: hehe thanks for the live update 🤭
╰ landonorris: OSCAR GET OUT…again 
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yourusername posted on their story  
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caption: when he takes you to paris
*replies disabled* 
landonorris posted on their story  
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caption: i brought her to paris 
*replies disabled* 
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yourusername posted on their instagram  
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landonorris, yourbestfriend, madisonbaileybabe, ynloverr & others liked 
kissed by the sun☀️💋
tagged: landonorris 
view all comments 
yourbestfriend: i’ve never seen you so happy, the “sun” looks good on you 😉
╰ liked by yourusername
ynisthebest: C’MON ARE THEY SERIOUSLY NOT GONNA CONFIRM THIS, ITS SO OBVIOUS THEYRE DATING 
f1fan: I JUST WANT WHAT THEY HAVE 
╰ ynfan: YOU AND ME BOTH 
landonorris: wait when did you take that photo ?
╰ yourusername: when you had a zoom call with the team & you thought i was napping 🤭
╰ landonorris: youre sneaky, i love it 
╰ liked by yourusername  
obxloverr: goals, actual goals 
landonorris posted on their story  
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caption: when she makes you dinner >>> 
╰ oscarpiastri: when are you gonna start calling her your girlfriend publicly 
╰ landonorris: when we’re both ready, its fun doing this and seeing how people react, yourself included 
╰ oscarpiastri: 🙄🙄
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yourusername posted on their instagram   
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landonorris, oscarpiastri, yourbestfriend, ynfan & others liked 
ask and you shall receive; yes we’re dating 🧡
tagged: landonorris
view all comments 
landonorris: now i can publicly comment on how much i adore you 
╰ yourusername: youre such a simp, i love it, never stop 
╰ landonorris: don’t plan on it 
╰ oscarpiastri: not looking forward to third wheeling once the season starts up again 
╰ landonorris: HAHAHA that sounds like a you problem 
╰ yourusername: OSC IGNORE HIM, WE LOVE YOU 
╰ landonorris: BABEEEEE
yourbestfriend: can he fight ? cause if he hurts you, i go full bestie protective mode 
╰ yourusername: HAHAHAH i appreiciate you, more than you know 
╰ landonorris: i don’t plan on hurting her, you have my word 🫡
╰ yourbestfriend: good answer 
ynfan: THEY REALLY ARE THE CUTEST 
f1wagupdates: NEW WAG, I REPEAT NEW WAG ADDED TO THE LIST!!! 
user4: CANT WAIT FOR THE Y/N PADDOCK CONTENT ONCE RACES START 
user15: I’M SO HAPPY FOR THEM 
landonorris posted on their instagram    
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yourusername, f1fan, oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 & others liked 
found my other half 🫂
tagged: yourusername 
view all comments 
yourusername: never met anyone more into film and photography, other than myself..😍
╰ landonorris: thats why we work 😏
╰ liked by yourusername
f1fan: living for this 
ynfan: STOPPPP 
maxverstappen1: siri play mastermind by taylor swift
╰ landonorris: STOP GET OUT 
╰ yourusername: wait WHAT DOES HE MEAN? TELL ME 
╰ landonorris: no
╰ yourusername: pleaseeeeeeee
╰ landonorris: respectfully, no 
╰ yourusername: 😠
You looked up from your phone, eyeing Lando across the room also on his phone “what is Max talking about?” You asked him this time in person 
“Nothing” he said not looking up from his phone
You got up, going to sit next to him “Babe, c’mon I’m sure it is nothing, I just want to know” you explained, you were just curious 
Lando looked up from his phone meeting your eyes “Okay fine” he said as he locked his phone and turned his body to be facing you “Its really not a big deal but before you and I met, even before you got invited by Mclaren, I reached out to Max cause I had seen at the Las Vegas grand prix you met eachother” he started
“And I was kind of upset, maybe even a little jealous that I crashed out and didn’t get the chance to meet you, so I called Max and asked what you were like” He chuckled to himself, it sounded funnier saying this out loud 
“Okay but why were you upset you didn’t get to meet me?” You asked, not fully understanding what he was getting at
“You were one of my biggest celebrity crushes” He told you a small blush appearing on his face “Which is why when I didn’t get to meet you after Vegas, I may have mentioned to someone on the admin team to reach out and invite you to the last race of the season” He finished 
“Wait so you already had a crush on me before we even met? Lando thats so cute” You smiled at him “I get why Max commented that now, you really were the mastermind, I’m impressed” You smirked 
“Really? You don’t think its weird or anything?” He asked for reassurance 
“Not at all” You told him, moving closer to him on the couch “If you hadn’t have done what you did, who knows if we’d be here right now” You explained smiling at him, Lando returning the same smile 
“I cant imagine not having you in my life” He exclaimed, playing with the rings you had on your fingers “The feelings mutual” You told him leaning in and giving him a quick kiss on the lips before pulling back and cuddling into his side enjoying this moment. 
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yourusername posted on their instagram  
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never stop being mine 🥹
tagged: landonorris 
view all comments 
landonorris: i don’t plan on it, youre stuck with me 🥹
╰ yourusername: sounds good to me 
maxverstappen1: happy everything worked out for you two 
╰ liked by yourusername & landonorris 
ynfan: mom and dad 
f1fan: endgame 
ynislife: our girl found her happily ever after 
obx: y/n we couldn’t be happier for you and feel free to bring him around once filming starts, maybe we can sneak him in as a cameo 😉
╰ yourusername: OMG DONT TELL HIM THAT 
╰ landonorris: WAIT FOR REAL 
╰ yourusername: no they’re joking..
╰ obx: maybe we are, maybe we aren’t, who knows 🤷🏻‍♀️
╰ obxfan4life: the obx admin knows what the fans want 
f1fanxobx: THE F1 X OBX: CROSSOVER OF THE CENTURY 
-
that was so fun to write, i hope you enjoyed it !!
feel free to comment thoughts and/or make requests !! 🫶
1K notes · View notes
sunflower-lilac42 · 4 months
Text
✧ 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 | the hughes brothers ♔
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summary: y/n hughes hasn't seen her family in two and a half years. so when all three of her brothers play each other she wanted to come home
warnings: crappy writing
notes: in honor of tonight, i figured i would finally post this
nhl masterlist | main masterlist
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“Hi everyone, my name is y/n, and welcome to my channel if you are new here or welcome back! Today is a very special day, well December 5 is a special day but when you are seeing this it has already passed. Anyways, as most of you know I have been studying abroad in Italy for the past two and a half years and I haven’t seen my family.”
Y/n took a breath, a grin making its way onto her face, “And if you don’t know, my brothers are Quinn, Jack, and Luke Hughes, all professional hockey players. Luke is a ‘rookie’ this season, he played briefly at the end of the 22-23 season for the Devils and I have missed one thing after another for him which makes me feel horrible.
“Moving on, I have divided to come home for once and for all for another day for the history books. The first ever (with Luke included), Hughes v. Hughes game. Devils at Canucks. New Jersey at Vancouver. Jack and Luke versus Quinn, you get the point. And the best thing of all is that I am surprising them. It is currently December 2, at 8:30 and I am heading to the airport. I get in around 2 in New York so plenty of time to rest up before heading to Vancouver! I will see you all later.”
There had been something, or rather someone, missing from the Hughes family in the two and a half years. After choosing to study abroad, y/n finally decided to come. She felt like she had finally completed a new journey in her life and was ready to come back to life in the US.
As much as she loved studying in Italy and visiting various countries with her friends, her chest always had a nagging feeling. She hadn’t seen her family, her brothers, anywhere near two years straight. She missed her family, she missed her brothers. 
And the same could be said about the three Hughes boys. She had missed the biggest milestones in her youngest brother’s career so far. She missed him getting drafted, making his NHL debut, and getting his first NHL goal. She missed Jack’s (and the Devils’) record-breaking season, she even missed being there when Quinn was announced Captain for the 23-24 Season. 
She felt horrible about it and as much as the boys tried to say it was okay, they weren’t okay with it. They wanted their sister to go out and do what she wanted, but not having their older sister on these days, was heartbreaking for them. And she wasn’t about to do it again. 
Arriving in New York gave y/n a funny feeling. She hadn’t seen anyone she was close to in a long time and she hadn’t been around this many Americans in a long time. It was a weird nostalgic feeling and she was somewhat glad to be in New York despite many of its native people. 
She ended up staying with her friend for the next day waiting for her flight to Vancouver. They went and explored, well y/n explored, the city she hadn’t been in in years, It was a nice feeling being here, but nervewracking all at the same time. She was worried about what her brothers would think, and how they would react. Would they be mad at her? Would they be happy? She had no way of telling.
“As you have seen I have arrived in New York. Seeing so many Americans is fucking crazy. I don’t know how I survived a week let alone two years overseas. So I am here until tomorrow night which is when my flight to Vancouver is and then we’ll go from there. I think y/f/n and I are going to go sightseeing, there is a lot I want to do being back in New York, for example, pizza.”
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The next day she flew to Vancouver, vlogging the whole time. She and her friend had a good time in New York and so she was excited to hang out with another one of her friends in Vancouver. The two hung out the whole day, attempting to keep her mind off of it for a bit longer. And when the next day came, she was even more nervous. They had a plan to surprise them right before they did the National Anthem and they even managed to have their parents come down on the ice as well. 
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“I am now in Vancouver and we are here at Rogers Arena. I’m about to go in and get the exact rundown of how tonight is happening and yeah. Everything seems like it’s moving too fast. I am, of course, wearing my Luke Hughes Jersey and my canucks beanie. And someone asked me who I wanted to win and I said Cancuks because I’m a diehard Canucks fan. It’s not because I like Quinn more, I promise, but I do like to tell people I root for him because he has a disadvantage.”
Y/n stood inside the arena in the tunnel trying to hide herself as much as possible as she waited for the announcer's cue. She could somewhat make out her parents in the box and her brothers on the ice but there wasn’t much past that. It seemed like everything blurred outside her family members.
“Now as we know it is the first-ever NHL Hughes vs. Hughes game and we couldn’t help but notice someone was missing.”
That was the boys' first clue and cue for y/n. As Jack and Luke exchanged looks with their brother, their parents also stood confused, none of them connecting the dots yet. That was until the next announcement. 
“Over the past two and a half years, the eldest Hughes sibling has been studying abroad in Europe, devoting her studies to (whatever you want).” 
That was when Ellen and Jim connected the dots and partially Quinn as well. Poor Jack and Luke still stood confused out of their minds as they looked between their older brother and their parents.
“After regretting so many milestones in her brothers’ careers, she couldn’t afford to miss one more. Please join me in welcoming back to the US from her studies, Y/n Hughes.” Y/n finally pulled out of the trance she had been in when they announced her name and she stepped out onto the rink. 
The whole arena was going crazy at just the mention of another Hughes. Before she even took two steps onto the nice, Luke was practically on top of her. No one had ever seen him skate that fast and truthfully a bunch of people thought he was going to knock his sister right on her ass. 
“Hi Lukey.”
Luke didn’t want to let go, holding his sister, “Hi.”
Y/n’s heart broke at her youngest brother. She couldn’t look at Quinn and Jack, afraid they were looking at her with judgment in their eyes, so she just hugged Luke until he let go. And when he did, y/n was brought into another bone-crushing hug from Jack. 
Quinn stood off to the side, letting his brothers have a moment with their sister. It took a toll on Quinn, y/n leaving. He had to step up and be the role model for the two. No one had thought about how her leaving would affect him. Y/n was the one Quinn went to for everything. Math homework? He knocked on y/n’s door down the hallway. Girl problems? Y/n’s contact name shone on his phone. That feeling of not being good enough? Y/n was already halfway to wherever he was. When she left, all he had was limited texts and calls.
Jack’s hug was arguably the shortest out of the three. It’s not that he didn’t miss her, he knew how much Quinn needed that hug, and partially because he was now anxious to play, he had to get his ‘zoomies’ out. Quinn hugged the girl gently at first but once y/n whispered it was okay, his arms tightened and a few tears spilled from his eyes. 
“It’s okay, Quinny. I’m here, I’m back.”
Y/n and her brothers parted ways and she went back with her parents to where they were sitting and sat in between the two. They watched the game with laser focus, y/n cheering for both teams but more importantly the three Hughes’ on the ice. 
When the game was over, she waited down by the locker rooms for the three of them. Some of their teammates, the ones who knew who she was, all said their hellos as they walked out of the arena. The three brothers came walking out together and immediately all broke out into runs, racing towards their sister. 
“I can’t believe you’re here.”
“You better believe it, Jacky, because I am not leaving any time soon.” She pulls away and Jack smiles, “You’re not leaving ever again.”
She laughs and the three walk away, fighting for who she rode with on the way to dinner.
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kelppsstuff · 1 month
Note
Reading your recent post actually made me tear up, in public of all places, I want to give the two of em some.. uh.. comfort
New resident in Charlie's hotel! Who might it be?
Well, since sir pentious can rise, another can go down, right?
Let's say that the reader might've killed one demon before when she joined them in their exterminations
It makes me wonder so damn bad what'll lute and Adam react when they see this demon, the painstakingly similar in body, height, physique darling who, even when damned to hell, still kept her sweetheart personality
This is to soothe the sadness I felt from reading that
“I’m so fucking sorry!” Part two
Part One | Part Two
Masterlist
Warnings: mentions of death.
Summery: After you die for Lute and Adam they find how your reborn a sinner.
Taglist: @lutesb1tch @strawberryclumsy @fandomsbookclub @adamsfavoritesinner @mimmieme
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When you died you didn’t expect for you to be reborn a sinner. You had lived an after-life of pure righteousness. The only thing you had ever done was defend yourself and accidentally killed a sinner. So to say you were shocked was an understatement.
You wanted to see Adam and Lute again, but you knew how they felt about sinners. Would they just toss you aside?
You knocked of the newly build hotel, nervous. The door opened and the Princess opened the door. She immediately knew who you were. You looked the same besides slightly larger black wings and the horns on your head. “I had no where else to go.” You voice small and timid.
You waited for her to slam the door in your face but instead she smiled brightly. “I’m so happy you’re okay! I felt so sorry about you death. And some how I even felt sorry for Adam.” She mumbled the last sentence but I still caught it. Adam.
He hated sinners the most. Sure Lute could maybe get behind the fact your one now but she had known Adam longer. Would she choose him over you. If it came down to a choice you’d want her to choose him, so neither of them stayed alone.
“Can I stay for a bit?”
The princess hugged you and showed you around.
You had spent the next month getting situated. You found it hard to look in the mirror. You looked so different. A new feature that you had was fangs. They slightly stuck out every now and then. But you noticed when you got mad they’d grow along with your horns.
Today was the same as every other. Wake up, clean around the bar, show sinners to there rooms, go to sleep. Though as you were looking down at the room booking book you heard a voice. A very familiar voice.
“Room for two.”
Adam. You looked up in shock and saw him there Lute right by him. You could see the glare in his eyes.
Adam hadn’t recognized you. But the woman beside him did immediately. Lute felt a sense of happiness wash over her as she saw you. She didn’t care about your new look. All she cared about was that you were here.
The two originally came to completely destroy the hotel and every time they’d rebuild it they wanted to tear it down again.
“A-Adam.” You turned your head to Lute tears of joy and shock in your eyes. “Lute.” Lute gave you the brightest smile you ever saw and was quick to jump over the desk, hugging you.
Adam at first was about to question the hell out of Lute. But when your voice replayed in his head he felt the weight on his chest lift. Was it really you? Did god hear his pleas? “Y/N?” Adam asked, he had to be sure, if this was some joke he’d tear down heaven and hell both.
You looked up over Lutes shoulder and smiled nervous at him. “Hi Adam.” He could hear the nerves in your voice but he didn’t give a shit.
He — just like Lute — jumped over the table and hugged you both. You could feel the breath leaving your body as they started to held you too tight. But you didn’t pull away, finally happy, finally with them. Your heaven. “I missed you guys.” You said to the two. Voice full of love.
“Fuck, I can’t believe you died on us. That totally did not rock.” Leave it to Adam to make his two girls laugh.
Adam felt joy, it had been the first time Lute laughed since the incident. Adam always tried to crack a joke to make her smile, but it was always dimmed.
“I’m a sinner now.” You were scared. This was the moment you were prepared for them to turn their backs on you. But you should have known better, they’d never turn their backs on their sun.
“We couldn’t care less.” Lute pulled away from the hug and cupped you cheek, leaving a friendly kiss on your lips. “Yeah listen to her hot stuff.” Adam spoke and he kissed your other cheek.
Finally with the people who you belonged with.
Over the next course of months Adam and Lute would visit you. They talked to Sera and gave the okay on the Hotel. But even if Sera said no, they’d still visit you and every now and then bring a certain snake occasionally.
They two angels had started to noticed you avoiding mirrors and when you saw one you’d just stare at yourself until someone pulled you away.
They watch you look at you reflection out the window. The two sat on your bed, staring at you worried.
Adam was the first to speak, filling the silence in the room. “You okay babe?”
We’re you okay? You didn’t know.
Nothing about you was okay anymore, so you thought. Your white pure angelic wings were now tarnished in black. You’d lost your halo. Nothing about that was okay. But you’d put on a show for them.
“I’m okay, Adam.” You’d never really called Adam and Lute by their names unless you were worried. You’d call Adam, apple and Lute, wild girl. “No your not.” Lute said in her knowing voice. You sighed, you can’t really hide anything from them can you?
“I’m hideous. I’m a sinner, I should be holy and yet I’m a monster.” You could feel the tears looking at your words.
“Your not a monster.” Lute tried to comfort you.
“LOOK AT ME!” You turned to them, horns bigger than normal, fangs longer, eyes glowing red. “This is who I am now!” “And I love you just the same.” She spoke as she made her way to you. Adam unusually quiet.
“How could you love me, when I don’t even love myself?”
Adam shook his head in disbelief at your words. He got off the bed and made his way to you. Cupping your cheeks and looking tenderly into your eyes he spoke. “You should know better than anyone that loving someone isn’t a choice, it’s a gift. You loved me at my worse, of course we would love you through hell and back.” He leaned down and placed a familiar kiss onto your lips. He wrapped an arm around your neck and his other around Lute, pulling you all into a comforting hug.
Maybe, maybe everything would be okay. And maybe Adam and Lute really did love you still.
Who are we kidding, let’s stop with the maybes. They loved you more than ever.
HI I’m sorry if this was a bit short, but i hope it brought you the comfort you wanted! Thank you for liking this little journey with Adam, Lute, and Reader. Have a great day! 💛
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And a little extra!
You smiled as you squeezed Lutes hand. She had done so good bringing a little girl into the world.
Adam cut the umbilical cord while you took care for of Lute. Adam looked up to you smiling and gestured for you to come to him. “I’ll be right back you wild girl.” You whispered to Lite and walked over to Adam. You looked at the crying baby, she looked just like her dad ironically. “Hold her.” Adam whispered to you. You turned to him in shock. What? You would have thought Adam would want to be the first person to hold his daughter. “Go on.”
You picked her up and started to rock her, bringing her over to Lute, Adam putting his hands on your shoulders lovingly, before giving a kiss to Lute.
Lute cried while she held her baby. Adam crying as well, and gosh you were practically sobbing in happiness.
Some would think you’d be jealous over the two, but that wasn’t the case. You all loved each other equally and you would love that kid as if she were your own. “What’s her name?” The only thing the two had held off on telling you. You didn’t know why, but you were excited to hear what to call the little chipmunk.
Adam and Lute looked to each-other smiling before turning there heads to you.
“Y/N.” The two spoke together and you swore your heart stopped. “What?”
“Y/N. After the person to show us what heaven really is.” Tears flew down your face as you all FOUR hugged.
When little Y/N turned 1, you had been pregnant with two twins on the way. This is what a happy ever after really is. You all three though as you watched Little Y/N playing in the sand. Adam and Lute holding your belly.
THANK YOU FOR THE IDEA! This was such a cute scene to write! 💛
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Care | Aitana Bonmatí x Reader
I'm just absolutely soft for Aitana right now... fluff that's it! Soundtrack for the story is Care by Sonder... Enjoy :)
Aitana hadn't been home in a month, not since her Ballon d’Or win. Well she had been home just not at the same time you were. Between you traveling nearly every week for work and her national team duties, Champions League, and every other commitment she had now as a Ballon d’Or winner you always seemed to miss each other. Tonight however, you were sure she’d be there. 
You had been away the last few days visiting your parents back in London and decided to head home early to surprise the midfielder. Having spoken to her earlier in the day before she went to training, she told you she was spending the afternoon with Ona, so you knew you had time to prepare. Even going as far as reaching out to Ona to let her know you would tell her when to send her back home. 
After being together for the last year and a half the time apart was something you both had gotten used to but it was still never easy. Typically a week apart and you were both sending each other longing messages, so a month has been nearly unbearable. 
You loved coming home to Aitana curled up on the couch watching football or reading a book. Longed for the nights you spent giggling as you rub her sore legs and she struggles to teach you Catalan. Those were the moments you missed most over the last month.
You were quite smitten with your girlfriend and didn’t mind the teasing from your friends or hers when they called you whipped. You liked to take care of her and just shower her in love. That’s how Tana Days started. At the time, she had been stressed and you knew she had a few days off so you cleared your schedule and dedicated a full 48 hours to her. Making sure to pamper her, cook her favorite meals, and whatever else she wanted. 
So, here you were once again planning a Tana Day for her. When you left the airport earlier you made your way to the florist and grocery store to pick up everything you’d need. You were rushing around like a mad woman wanting everything to be perfect, but the truth is you knew it didn’t matter. Aitana was going to be happy just to see you. As you laid out the final touches, and dinner stayed warm on the stove you reached for your phone just as a message popped up. 
Smol Lover🧡: amor I don’t think I can go any longer. I will fly to London tomorrow. I will bring you home to me. Sí?
You immediately text Ona and tell her to send Aitana on her way, while you rush to the shower. Her text let you know you made the right decision in coming back early. You were both at your limit. You quickly dress in something comfortable and get cozy on the couch in anticipation of her arrival. You open your phone to scroll aimlessly when you see you had got another message. 
Smol Lover🧡: why read message and not respond? 
You knew Aitana would see you read the message and didn’t reply, but her angry texts were always so cute. You loved riling her up, and watching her fall short on any of her empty threats via text the moment you wrap your arms around her. 
Amor♥: Don’t come…
Smol Lover🧡: por qué amor? I am upset. Answer phone
You felt bad for the teasing, but knew her anger wouldn’t last long. You see your phone light up with a call just as the sounds of keys jingling in the door catch your attention. You sit up straighter looking over the back of the couch towards the door. Aitana pushes it open and a few curses slip off her tongue as she reaches for the phone she was holding between her ear and shoulder off the floor. She hasn’t noticed anything too focused on glaring at her phone as her call to you goes to voicemail. She kicks the door closed while typing away on the device, definitely a half-hearted threat to you of never talking to you again. 
“Do you need some help, love?” You finally let your presence be known as her head shoots up at the voice and she freezes. 
“Amor?” She questions like she doesn’t believe it’s you sitting there. You move to get off the couch when you see the look of distress on her face. Making your way down the short walkway towards her, the training bag, keys, and phone all hit the ground with a thud as she matches your steps. 
The first tear slides down her cheek just before she reaches your arms. “Don’t cry love,” you coax, wrapping her into you and kissing the top of her head. She pulls away slightly to look in your eyes the look of disbelief still present like she thinks you’ll disappear from her grip. “Hi,” you whisper, matching her gaze as your own voice is laced with emotion.
“Amor, why didn’t you tell me? I could have come sooner, no?” You smile, kissing away each tear as they slide down her flushed cheeks. You attempt to pull away and guide her to the kitchen she didn’t even spare a glance to on her way to you, but she doesn’t allow it pulling you closer. “Not yet. Stay, por favor.”
You don’t respond, just let her take all the time she needs while pulling her impossibly closer. A comforting hand running along the length of her back. She takes a deep inhale with her nose buried deep into your neck before pulling away slightly again to look in your eyes. You give her the Special Tana Smile, as she calls it, and lean in to connect your lips for the first time. It’s slow and tender, a moment to remember the feeling of each other after a month apart, not that either of you could ever forget. You pull away and peck away the pout that appears on her face, “can I show you your surprise now?” 
She nods and lets herself be pulled towards the kitchen where you had everything setup. The island filled with all her favorite goodies she probably wouldn’t indulge in due to training. You reach for the bouquet of pink camellia’s and present them to her bashfully, “they represent longing. I know a month apart has been hard, but I’ve never been more sure of my love for you than during this time. I’m so proud of everything you’ve accomplished and I’m sorry I wasn’t there to celebrate them with you, but this will be our special celebration.” 
The tears were falling freely from both your eyes now. An overwhelming sense of relief at finally having your girl in your arms again washed over you. “Mi amor…I don’t know how to say in english what I feel,” you chuckle at the comment. Neither of you had fully mastered the other's language, but you loved it. You can see the wheels in her head turning as she tried to find the words. 
“Bésame,” you tell her to put an end to her struggle. She does, passionately this time and you don’t need words in that moment to feel all the love she has for you. Refusing to get carried away you put an end to it, “go put your stuff in the room. I’ll run you a bath.” 
She quickly goes to pick up the items she abandoned at the door and you head to the bathroom. Filling the tub with water you add in her favorite bubble bath and light a few candles turning down the lights. Aitana reappears before you at the door, “get in while it’s hot baby,” you instruct.
She begins to strip away the layers of clothes and throw them in the basket before making her way over to you. ¿Tú también?” she asks with a tilt of her head.
“No, just you love. I’ll go and prepare the table for dinner and then come back for you. Tonight’s about taking care of you.”
She pouts, but doesn’t put up a fight, her body relaxing the moment it touched the water. You sit with her for a moment. Taking in the view of her hair hanging loosely around her relaxed face you reach out a hand just needing to feel her. “I love you Aitana.”
“Te amo mucho amor,” she smiles brightly. You leave a soft kiss on her lips before making your way out the room. 
You set the plan into action. Adorning the living room with large plush cushions and soft blankets, you light the fireplace creating a warm glow as you lower the lights and ignite a few more candles around the room to create an ambiance. Clipping the ends of the flowers you brought you put them in a vase and place them on the coffee table next to the small gift you got her. You set the table for two, pour two glasses of wine, and plate the food you prepared earlier. 
Everything was perfect. You grab your phone and connect it to the speaker, turning on the playlist you made for her on your one year anniversary. You jump when you feel two arms wrap around your midsection. “Baby no, you were supposed to wait,” you whine.
“Can’t wait. Te extrañé,” she tells you nuzzling into your back. You relax into the touch, missing the way it felt to have her body pressed against yours.
“Should we eat?”
“Sí,” she bounces over to the table and her face lights up seeing the food. You share a calm meal filled with all the stories from your time apart. The soft tunes mixing into the soft giggles shared over innocent touches. You usher her towards the living room after cleaning up your plates.
“I made you something,” you tell her, reaching for the small package you placed on the table. Aitana was quick to cuddle into your side head resting on your shoulder. “It's just missed you a lot.”
Aitana flips through the contents of the envelope. Thirty days worth of love notes you’d written for her every morning. It wasn’t your intention it had just happened. Aitana aggressively wipes at her tears, glancing up at you between each note. “Never leave me again. I will not allow it.”
You laugh pulling her into your lap, “okay amor.” It was impossible, you both knew it but it didn’t matter. You spend the rest of the night finding comfort in each other's arms. Grateful you made it back to each other and stronger than ever. 
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