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just friends pt. 2 | lando norris

face claim: none ♡

request: here !

part 1!

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👤 flavy.barla liked by estebanocon, lilymhe and 64,285 others

y/nstagram me and my gf terrorise monaco 💗

flavy.barla that barista so wanted to throw that matcha at us ↳ y/nstagram because you took about 10 years deciding what drink you wanted!!! ↳ flavy.barla they all looked so good :(

fan flavs 🥹 i love their friendship so much ↳ y/nstagram wdym friendship thats my GIRL ↳ fan lando found dead in a ditch ♥️ y/nstagram ↳ fan SHADE

estebanocon can i have my girlfriend back now? ↳ y/nstagram nope she's mine :) ↳ estebanocon understandable

lilymhe me next!!!! ↳ y/nstagram come join us babygirl i have 2 hands xx ↳ alexandrasaintmleux what about me? :( ↳ y/nstagram we can link toes 💗

bffstagram seeing you happy makes my heart so 💝💖💕💞💓💗💘💖💕💞💓💘 ↳ y/nstagram i love you so intensely

fan still no lando like bro i'm in the trenches

liked by fan, fan and 38,948 others

f1gossipgirl ANNOUNCEMENT! We sat down with the mystery girl on all of your feeds to discuss those pictures with Lando Norris, Y/N L/N and the fallout from her recent introduction to the F1 world. Available at f1gossipgirl.com tomorrow 7PM GMT. You won't wanna miss this one!

fan not her using lando for fame

fan flop!

fan we will Not be tuning in xx

fan they better be just friends or i'm gonna be in lando's walls

fan if they're dating it's game over y/nlando'ers !!! ↳ fan bro i'll scream ↳ fan i'll cry ↳ fan i'll throw up ↳ fan i'll do all three simultaneously

fan hopefully people will leave them the fuck alone after this damn

fan not them asking her about y/n that's so shady ↳ fan if she mentions one bad word about y/n we ride at dawn

charlottehinchcliffe thank you for having me! :) ↳ fan 👀👀👀 ↳ fan homewrecker ↳ fan not too much on charlotte now we don't even know what happened

True to his word, 10 minutes later, Lando was at your door. Steeling yourself for the conversation ahead, you turn the lock and open the door to reveal a slightly out of breath Lando.

Eyeing him as he pants slightly, you lean against the doorframe. "You good?"

"Yeah!" He takes a moment to catch his breath, wiping his hands against his shorts. "I was at padel, so I had to run over."

You look at him incredulously. "The padel courts are a good 25 minutes from here, Lan, did you run here or something?"

In lieu of a verbal answer, he shrugs his shoulders, nudging his way into your apartment.

The two of you sit in silence on the sofa, both waiting for the other to begin speaking.

"I-" "So-"

You can't help but giggle at the ridiculousness of the situation. Never once in your friendship with Lando had you ever felt so awkward to start a conversation. You gesture towards him, "you start."

He nods, turning to face you on the sofa. "Did I do something? Like we were good until Sass Cafe, and then it's like you just dropped off the face of the earth. I missed my best friend."

Your heart breaks at the way his face drops, blaming himself for something that was completely out of his control.

"Lan, no, it wasn't you, I promise. I'm sorry for ghosting you, I just needed some time to think some things through."

You reach forward and pat his hand, a purely friendly gesture.

"You can talk to me about anything, Y/N. What's going on?" His eyes are pleading, hand twisting around to grasp your own.

Sighing, you pull your hand away from his, missing the warmth immediately. "We need to stop hooking up."

You can tell that wasn't what he thought you were going to say from the way he stiffens, eyes wide and searching your own.

"Why? Did..." He trails off for a moment, eyes drifting down to the hand you pulled from his, "are you dating someone?"

You want to scoff. The only person you wanted to date was the one you were currently pushing away. "No, Lan. I'm not dating anyone. I think everything's just become too complicated, we need to just be best friends, nothing more, nothing less."

He looks hurt, mouth trying to form words as he takes a second to process your words. "Um, ok? I'm sorry? I didn't realise things were complicated..." There's a beat of silence between you before he speaks again. "Is this about the girl I was pictured with because I promise nothing happened between us."

He's almost begging, hands half reaching forward like he wants to grab yours before he catches himself, stilling in the air.

You shake your head, smiling softly at him. "No, I spoke to Charlotte, I know nothing happened. This is simply a me and you thing. Well, a me thing, I guess. You're my best friend and I love you but I need to do this for myself."

He's about to speak when your best friend comes waltzing through the front door. "Y/N! I got pastries from the cafe down the road, come get them while they're still warm!"

Walking into the living room, she stills at the sight of you and Lando on the sofa, hand carrying a bag of pastries stuck in the air. "I'll just..." She hurries off into the kitchen before either of you can say anything.

The two of you look at each other, tension in the air broken as you both laugh softly at your best friend.

"So, still best friends?" Lando's eyes are soft as they look at you.

"Always."

He leaves soon after, a shared hug in lieu of a goodbye. At the sound of the door closing, your best friend comes running through the kitchen door. "So?"

You fall back onto the sofa, tears lining your eyes. "Hand me the damn pastries."

f1gossipgirl uploaded a new article

📍 Bahrain

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and 1,928,784 others

landonorris bahrain brought the bahpain... p9 with some car difficulties, but we try again for monaco! congrats to oscarpiastri on the podium, lets go!

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fan bro's majestic

fan not him flopping when y/ns in the paddock ↳ fan when the camera panned to her and she looked... different... i need to know what happened ↳ fan f1gossipgirl posted an interview with the girl, nothing happened between them but we still don't know what happened between lando and y/n!! ↳ fan did you see her cheering when oscar finished p3? giggling

oscarpiastri cheers 👍🏼 ↳ fan go girl give us nothing! ↳ fan no but the photos of him and lily laughing with y/n after the race while lando was just standing in the garage watching them ↳ fan oscar is a girl's girl fr

📍 Bahrain

👤 lilynzeimer, y/nstagram liked by lilynzeimer, y/nstagram and 1,983,275 others

oscarpiastri me, my girlfriend and my girlfriend's girlfriend.

for real though, podium in bahrain is a big win for the team! shame we couldn't get more points but we regroup and prepare for monaco!

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fan that caption is so shady im HOWLING

fan "we" aka lando norris

fan no bc something must have happened with y/n and lando for oscar to shade his own teammate

fan i love the gf's

fan the caption 😭😭 can't believe oscar admitted he's the third wheel in his own relationship ↳ oscarpiastri i've long since accepted that i am the side piece... ↳ lilynzeimer at least you're self aware ❤️

fan y/n the paddocks princess we love you

y/nstagram uploaded 2 stories

[caption 1: pasta is the way to my heart fr] [caption 2: 📍Bahrain] seen by landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux and 79,482 others

fan MAN???? THERE IS A MAN !!!! PLEASE SAY ITS LANDO !!!! ↳ y/nstagram no it's charles! me, alex and him went out for a meal! :) ↳ fan ok best friends! love you y/n

alexandrasaintmleux the first story def looks like you're on a date ↳ y/nstagram i was... with you xxx ↳ y/nstagram people will probs think its lando 🤷‍♀️ ↳ y/nstagram unless you want me to take it down? i don't want anyone to get the wrong idea about me and charles ↳ alexandrasaintmleux you can have him tbh he keeps whining about how he's the side chick in the relationship

landonorris chill night alone huh? ↳ y/nstagram i got invited out last minute! 😁 ↳ landonorris who are you with? ↳ landonorris y/n??? ↳ landonorris fuck it i know that restaurant, i'm on my way

liked by fan, fan and 79,038 others

f1gossip Lando Norris and Y/N L/N were caught having a heated argument outside of a restaurant in Bahrain. Sources near the pair mentioned that Y/N met him outside then they were arguing about Y/N's recent instagram stories, with Lando insinuating she was on a date with one of his driver friends. He was then seen getting into a Lambourghini and leaving Y/N at the restaurant. Y/N was then flanked by Charles Leclerc and his girlfriend, Alexandra, who it appears Y/N was having dinner with.

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fan i'm actually gonna fight him what the fuck

fan how can he just leave y/n there crying

fan y/n deserves so much better holy shit

fan landonorris not you flirting with another girl in sass then getting mad at y/n for *checks notes* having a meal with friends ↳ fan he wasn't flirting with charlotte, they're friends ↳ fan either way, he can't just get mad at y/n for having a potential date if they're not even together

fan did lando think y/n would openly cheat on him like that? ↳ fan not cheating if they were never together ↳ fan we don't know that ↳ fan they've said multiple times that they're just best friends, the shippers are the ones who have it in their heads that they're dating

alex's pov

👤 charles_leclerc, y/nstagram liked by y/nstagram, charles_leclerc and 92,395 others

alexandrasaintmleux my girl, the chauffeur and 3 wine glasses.

fan alex unprivating her account to say a big fuck you to lando 🤭🤭🤭

fan alex doesn't play when it comes to y/n ♥️ alexandrasaintmleux

fan landonorris ↳ fan landonorris ↳ fan landonorris ur loss big man ↳ fan landonorris ↳ fan landonorris ↳ fan landonorris ↳ fan landonorris flop ↳ fan landonorris

y/nstagram love of my life and my entire heart and soul ↳ alexandrasaintmleux my future wife 💖

charles_leclerc can't believe i've been downgraded to chauffeur ↳ y/nstagram you literally drive for a living you're basically a chauffeur,,, just faster

fan alex and y/n one chance PLEASE

fan y/ns so gorgeous ik He fumbled but i could treat you so right please please pleeeeeeasssseeeeee ♥️ y/nstagram

fan alex using the same photo as y/ns story... i'm surprised she didn't circle all three glasses and send it to Him ↳ alexandrasaintmleux what makes you think i didn't 🤔 ↳ fan queen behaviour

📍 Italy

👤 alexandrasaintmleux liked by alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc and 78,298 others

y/nstagram ethereal 🤍

alexandrasaintmleux i am so in love with you coucou please run away with me i have the ring ready and waiting ↳ y/nstagram anytime, anywhere my love 💖

charles_leclerc dude please stop being more in love with my girlfriend than me, the fans are rabid i cant fight !! ↳ y/nstagram 🤷🏻‍♀️ up your game before someone (me) snatches up the baddest bitch in monaco ↳ charles_leclerc i literally paid for you to go on a couples trip with her, i am stupid ↳ y/nstagram thanks sugar daddy xx ↳ charles_leclerc using me for my money, i see how it is y/n ↳ y/nstagram for your money and your girl* why else would i keep you around? ↳ fan y/n let him get up let him get up FIGHT BACK ↳ charles_leclerc i am terrified of her ♥️ y/nstagram

fan alex is so gorgeous holy shit

fan when i'm in a loving alex competition and my opponent is y/n l/n: 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

y/nstagram uploaded a story

You text Lando the day after you got back from Italy, wrapped in the safety of your best friends arms as you fire off a quick "you can come round". Again, within ten minutes Lando was outside your door. Your best friend answered, eyes laser focused on the sheepish man in front of her.

"Fix this or I'll spread a rumour that you cry when you cum."

Lando nods frantically at her, wide eyed and fully believing she would. If there's one thing he'd learnt since befriending you, it was that your best friend would lay her life on the line for you.

She frog marches Lando through the hallway and into the living room, nodding once at you before departing to her bedroom, not even bothering to check if Lando followed her.

You let your eyes linger on her until the bedroom door shuts, slowly moving your eyes to the man stood awkwardly in the doorway of the living room.

He looked terrible, dark rings circling now dull eyes, red rimmed and rubbed raw. His face looked gaunt, sunken in cheeks and downturned lips. You watch his brows furrow as he tries to think of what to say first.

Beating him to it, you gesture to the sofa. "Sit."

He moves as if on autopilot, choosing to sit the furthest away from you, half hanging off the sofa cushion as if he was ready to bolt at any moment. You have flashbacks to the last time you two met like this and you can't help but fear that this will be the last time he ever steps foot in your apartment.

"Y/N-"

Silencing him with a wave of your hand, you allow your eyes to rake over his face one more time, just in case it was the last. "No, Lando. You've said more than enough, it's time I get to speak."

He nods in response, hands wringing nervously in his lap.

The original plan had been to let him explain and see if he would apologise for the things he said, but during your girls trip with Alex, something had changed.

The two of you were swinging softly in the hammock on the patio of the villa Charles had rented out for the two of you, Alex stroking your hair as you recalled everything that had happened from the moment you met Lando.

The shy beginnings, the budding friendship and the drunken nights spent wrapped in his bedsheets.

She'd wrapped her free arm around your sun soaked skin when you began to cry, trying to make sense of where everything had gone so wrong.

Whispering soft words of encouragement into your hair, she reminded you that no matter how much you loved him, he had no right to speak to you the way that he did, whether it be as a boyfriend, best friend or acquaintance.

Pulling yourself back into the present, you sigh quietly before speaking. "I'm not sure where we went so wrong. I love being your best friend, I really do and I would do anything for us to go back to being just that, but I think both you and I know that can't happen."

Another nod from him, shoulders tense and still as if he was holding his breath.

"The first time we hooked up after your podium in Silverstone, I assumed it would be a one off. Too many drinks, too many high spirits and despite the girls vying for your attention, you knew I was the easiest option who would never tell anyone what happened."

Lando goes to interrupt you, eyes pleading. "It wasn't like that-"

You throw him a look, a reminder that this was your time to let out everything you had been holding in since that first night.

"When I woke up and you immediately said it was a mistake, I agreed. Wrote it off as something silly. Then it happened again and again and again. Each time, before I'd even wiped the sleep out of my eyes, you'd be staring at the ceiling, reminding me that it was just a mistake. At first it didn't hurt because I'd agreed, or at least I thought I'd agreed, but then we grew closer as friends. You'd pull me on your lap for a movie night, or twirl me around before one of your parties and tell me how pretty I looked, and somewhere along the line, I fell in love."

You refused to look at him at the last sentence, too scared to see what would be reflected in his eyes.

"It was stupid to keep hooking up with you after that, but I couldn't stop myself. It felt so good to be wanted by you. Every time we'd hook up, I'd smile and agree it was a mistake then go home and cry in one of the girls' arms. The last time, after Sass, I sat down with best friend and told her everything. She reminded me that I'm worth so much more than a drunken hook up, and for once, I finally agreed."

You allowed yourself to look at Lando then, heart twisting at the sight. Tears lined guilt filled eyes, those god damn eyes. He looked like someone had just punched him in the gut, mouth open in a slight downturned pout as he stared back at you.

"That's why I became so distant, I was trying to save our friendship. And then, those photos of you and Charlotte came out and I was jealous, so fucking jealous. Here I was, tearing myself apart at home while you were busy hitting on other girls." Ignoring the affronted noise from Lando, you continue. "I know now that wasn't the case, but it hurt so much. I genuinely felt like my heart was breaking in two."

Wiping the few tears that fell down your cheeks with the back of your hand, you smiled softly at him. "Then we met up and everything became a bit easier. I thought maybe we could, well I could, work through this. I could unlearn to love you and we could be best friends again."

Lando lets out a noise akin to a whine, tears finally escaping his eyes, dripping down to his chin. You resist the urge to reach out and brush them away, your own tears marring your vision.

"That night in Bahrain, I really had just wanted to stay at home and get an early night. Then Alex had texted me, and you know her, the girl doesn't take no for an answer." You try and laugh, the sound coming out flat and warbled at the same time. "I was trying to not be on my phone too much and that's why I didn't reply to your other messages. Charles offered to go out and speak to you but that wasn't fair on him, this wasn't his mess to fix."

Seeing Lando stare at you so gloomily from your sofa was becoming a little too much for you to handle, soft sobs echoing between the two of you. You stand from the sofa, moving to the window in your living room, eyes trained on the setting sun.

"The things you said that night really hurt, Lando. We've never argued in the entire time we've been friends, not even a little friendly one. You were so angry at the idea of me seeing one of your driver friends and I couldn't figure out why. We'd joked about me dating one of them before, hell, you even asked if I wanted Daniel's number after we snuck off at that house party to tie all your shoelaces together before he starting seeing Heidi..."

This time, Lando successfully cuts you off. "Do you really not know why?" His voice is gravelly, molasses thick around the edges.

Shaking your head, you hear him stand up from the sofa too, sock clad feet shuffling against the hardwood floor. When he speaks next, you can tell he's right behind you.

"I was jealous." The sound of him ruffling his hair floats through the silence between you. "When we met up and you said you wanted to stop hooking up, even if you were adamant that you weren't seeing someone new, I couldn't get that thought out of my head. Sure, our friendship is, was, a bit unconventional, but I thought it worked. I thought we worked. I had no idea it was hurting you and so when it ended, that was the only reason I could think of."

Looking through the glass of the window, your eyes lock with Lando's, his stare equal parts intense and regretful.

"And then I thought you were blowing me off in Bahrain and it was like a switch flipped. The thought of you ignoring me and being with someone who wasn't me made me feel sick to my stomach. It's the same feeling I get when you show me a silly meme Logan sent you or when I saw you and Dan giggling quietly and having to hold each other up in my hallway."

Gaze unwavering, he studies your face through the window pane. "Can you turn around and look at me properly, please?"

Unable to ignore the pleading in his voice, you turn slowly on the spot. The two of you are less than a foot apart, a few inches closer and you'd be able to see the flecks of gold in his eyes.

"There you are." A small smile crosses his lips. "I thought it was anger at you blatantly avoiding me, but then I remembered how my first thought when the photos of me and Charlotte came out wasn't 'my PR team's gonna fucking kill me', it was 'I need to tell Y/N it isn't true'."

He shuffles closer, hand reaching out to rest against your jaw. Using his thumb to swipe the stream of tears flowing down your face, he lowers his voice to a whisper.

"Every time I told you that us hooking up was a mistake, I was wrong. The mistake was me not realising how ridiculously in love I am with you."

You try to speak, a small whine escaping your lips, only audible because of the quietness of the apartment.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I should have never spoken to you like that in Bahrain. I only ever want to see you happy, to see your nose scrunch at how wide you're smiling, to hear you laugh loud and unabashedly. Knowing I hurt you, and have been hurting you for months, breaks my heart and I'm so angry at myself for not letting you explain. I love you and I want to be with you, but I understand I've hurt you and it's ok if you don't want that too."

Tears glimmer in his eyes again, smile soft and warm but tinged with remorse. He scans your face, looking for your answer in lieu of a verbal one.

Reaching a shaking hand up to cover his on your jaw, you close your eyes, allowing yourself to savour the warmth of his palm. "I want that. I want to love and be loved by you."

You open your eyes, meeting his brightened gaze.

"Really?" He sounds and looks awestruck, the weight of possibly losing you physically dropping off his shoulders, his body relaxing as he melts at the sight of you smiling gently. "You're sure?"

You nod, matching his fond smile. "I'm sure."

His thumb traces your bottom lip, eyes drawn to the movement. Before he can ask, you use your free hand to grab the front of his t-shirt, dragging him until the two of you are pressed chest to chest.

"Kiss me, Lando."

His name gets muffled as he presses his lips to yours fervently. Warm, syrup soaked and something that could only be described as Lando. Not a trace of alcohol, a distant memory of how this normally went. You decide then and there that this was your favourite taste.

His hand slips to the back of your neck, fingers tangled in your hair as he pulls you closer, eliminating any possible space that could come between the two of you. Each time your lips part, he whispers a soft "I love you", the sound being inhaled by you.

Slipping an arm around your waist and digging his fingers into the flesh, he revels in your gasp, tongue slipping between your lips to find your own.

Your body flares up at the feeling, each nerve ending scorching hot and tinging with electricity. You whisper "I love you's" back with each parting, one hand still wrapped in the fabric of his t-shirt as the other slides up the back of his shirt, tracing the map of his muscles.

You giggle as he shivers at the touch, finally allowing the two of you to breathe as he joins you, the kiss becoming more teeth than lips. He drags you into his arms, the hand in your hair moving down to interlink with the one wrapped around your waist.

Nudging his nose against your temple, he moves his head until his lips are level with your ear.

"Be mine?"

You hum into his neck, pressing soft kisses to the skin. "I already was."

liked by landonorris, alexandrasaintleux and 11 others

y/npriv not one mean comment, that's boyfie!

lilymhe 🤐 ↳ flavy.barla 🤐 ↳ alexandrasaintmleux 🤐 ↳ francisca.c.gomes 🤐 ↳ lilynzeimer 🤐 ↳ heidiberger_ 🤐 ↳ carmenmmundt 🤐 ↳ kellypiquet 🤐 ↳ iamrebeccad 🤐 ↳ landonorris were you silent or were you silenced ↳ alexandrasaintmleux don't even try it norris

francisca.c.gomes on a real note, i'm happy for you, truly 💗 (please tell me he grovelled) ↳ landonorris i was 2 seconds away from getting down on my knees and begging ↳ francisca.c.gomes good. ♥️ alexandrasaintmleux, lilynzeimer, lilymhe, heidiberger_, carmenmmundt, kellypiquet, iamrebeccad, flavy.barla

lilymhe how did you even get in here landonorris ↳ landonorris begged her to let me in ↳ lilynzeimer you seem to be doing a lot of begging recently ↳ landonorris ??? you're meant to be the nice one ↳ lilynzeimer blame my boyfriends influence :)))))

📍Miami

liked by y/nstagram, carlossainz and 1,028,982 others

landonorris P1. Grand Prix Winner. It wasn't too much for little lando norris... feels absolutely surreal, I'll post something more eloquent when I've stopped shaking 🧡

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fan GRAND PRIX WINNER LANDO NORRIS !!!!! THAT FEELS SO GOOD TO TYPE!!!!

carlossainz congratulations muppet, lets get drunk!!!!! ♥️ landonorris ↳ scuderiaferrari not too drunk mr sainz

maxverstappen1 proud to come second to you, mr norris! congratulations 💙 ♥️ landonorris

oscarpiastri proud of you bud! ♥️ landonorris

danielricciardo HE RACES LIKE A LION, SHOULDN'T HE BE DUTCH ♥️ landonorris

pitstopboys time to get back in the studio!

mclaren never doubted you, papaya forever! 🧡 ↳ landonorris papaya forever!!

y/nstagram so beyond proud,,, soak it all in lan ❤️ ↳ landonorris i'm so happy i flew you out for this one ↳ fan Y/NLANDO ARE BACK????? MY KING AND QUEEN????? ↳ fan i hope he was crying, screaming and begging on his knees to get y/n back ↳ landonorris i was prepared to ↳ fan LANDO????

fan y/n running at him full pelt and knocking them over in parc ferme... my parents fr ↳ fan the way he didn't cry until he saw y/n's smile... im lying down on the highway

fan y/nlando make up, lando wins a grand prix... she's his good luck charm ♥️ landonorris

liked by landonorris, bffstagram and 89,728 others

y/nstagram my love, my light, my grand prix winner. words can't even begin to describe how proud i am of you. forever in awe of all that you do ❤️

landonorris i love you so much, i couldn't have done this without you my love ❤️ ↳ y/nstagram i love you, come give me another kiss RIGHT NOW ↳ landonorris 🏃🏻‍♂️🏃🏻‍♂️🏃🏻‍♂️

bffstagram everyone cheer i didn't have to go to jail!! ♥️ y/nstagram

fan HARD LAUNCH??? ↳ y/nstagram lbr we've been unknowingly hard launching for a while now hahahaha

fan ok cute and all but i still haven't forgiven him for bahrain ↳ y/nstagram well i have, and honestly that's all that matters ↳ fan just don't want to see you hurt y/n ❤️ ↳ y/nstagram and i love you for that 💖 but we're all good, i promise

fan ik the grovelling was Excellent for her to dedicate a whole post to him ↳ y/nstagram just wanna celebrate my boyfie 🫶🫶 (it was) ↳ landonorris say that again ↳ y/nstagram my boyfriend ❤️ ↳ fan yeah y'all are cute and all but i'm perpetually single and a hater so out of my replies (love you guys)

estebanocon loving mitski lyrics!!!!! he did it guys!!!! ↳ y/nstagram loving mitski lyrics!! also thank you este, i owe you and flavy lunch! ↳ flavy.barla do we have to invite him? ↳ estebanocon sometimes it do be your own girlfriend ♥️ y/nstagram

alexandrasaintmleux i'm still your favourite though? :( ↳ francisca.c.gomes actually, that's me ↳ lilymhe no me ↳ y/nstagram before y'all start this again, my gaggle of girlfriends will always be my favourite 💝 ♥️ alexandrasaintmleux, lilynzeimer, lilymhe, heidiberger_, carmenmmundt, kellypiquet, iamrebeccad, flavy.barla ↳ landonorris i love me, my girlfriend and my girlfriends 10 girlfriends ↳ lilymhe hey, we had her first! ♥️ y/nstagram

charlottehinchliffe so happy for you two!!! 🩵 ↳ y/nstagram thank you!! i hope you're well! 💜

kellypiquet what was that about max being behind lando? ↳ y/nstagram KELLY ↳ y/nstagram i reverse manifested it, lando ur welcome for your win xx ↳ landonorris ??? ↳ y/nstagram i forgot you weren't on my priv until recently, ignore that ❤️

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well, part 2 is a little bit of a long one! i had so much fun working on this and i hope it lives up to your expectations! ♡ (to the anon who wanted lando to cry, this is for you)

tag list: @formulaal @tinyhrry @tiniiii44 @appl3-0rchard @luvrrish @405rry @whentheautumnleavesfall @callsignwidow @dinodumbass @northernlights19 @spctrfilms @some-girl-lost-in-this-world @ushygushybaby @motherofslay123 @ssararuffoni @littlementalpolaroids @headinthecloudssblog @eclipsedcherry @charlesgirl16 @someonewhosfallenapart @random-human02 @lightdragonrayne @fearfam69691 @meltingcherryz @noneofyourfbusinessworld @bernelflo @myescapefromthislife @eiaaasamantha @s0meth1ngs @littlehoneyfreak @customsbyjcg-blog @lifeless-firefly @esserenorris @ironmaiden1313 @harrysdimple05 @keisouy @dannyriccsupremacy @formula1simp @mehrmonga @sunny44 @saythename-sm @mayplesyrupsainz @love-simon @iliyad @daemyratwst @lunamelona @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir @littlegrapejuice @rafegirly @youreverydayfangirl @honethatty12 @latenightescapes-95

#lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #f1 smau #lando norris smau #lando norris x you #formula 1 fanfic

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randomperson3736 · 10 months

Text

Arm day- Batman: wayne family adventures

Paring(s): Batfam x child! Reader, Jason Todd x little sister! Reader, Dick Grayson x little sister! Reader, Tim Drake x little sister! Reader, Damian Wayne x little sister! Reader

Genre: Fluff, comedy

Warning(s): Crying, asshole brothers, sad reader

Word bank: Y/N- your name

Notes: I need some more ideas for this batfam series, so does anyone have any?

It was an exciting day for the little Y/N. Just yesterday, she got a brand new colour pencil set from her father (with the help of Alferd) that she couldn't wait to show off to everyone. The coloured pencils were stored in a large black leather case that was almost as big as her body.

Inside it were hundreds of different shades of every colour her small mind could imagine. She wanted to share her gift with her siblings, so she waited patiently on the Brown sofa in the living room. The large case next to her.

When she saw Damian walking through the halls, she smiled and run (the best that a 4 year old could run) towards her brother. Just as she was about to get to him she tripped but thankfully he caught her just before she could fall.

"Thank you Dami!" She gave him a toothy grin. Damian picked her up into his arms looking at every part of her body to make sure she didn't get hurt from tripping over. After seeing that she wasn't injured, he then smiled softly at her.

"Good morning Y/N. Why were you in a rush this early in the morning?"

She started to wiggle in his arms, so he put her down. She then (thankfully) walked back to the living room and grabbed her pencil case, dragging it along the ground cause it was a little heavy for her own body strength.

"Daddy got new colours for me!" Damain looked down at it with an unamused look "How charming"

"Do you wanna draw?" She asked with her puppy dog eyes. "I'm busy" he turned to the direction of the gym. "Oh..." Y/N said in a smile voice. Damian looked back at her. She was looking down at the case, her eyes teary up.

Feeling guilty, he cleared his throat. ".... but after I'm finished, I suppose I can entertain you for a short while"

"She looked up at Damian with twinkles in her eyes. "Really? Thank you Dami!"

After what felt like hours, she saw cass pass by with a duffle bag over her shoulder. Y/N walked up behind her and hugged her leg "Hi cass"

Cass bent down and caressed Y/N's cheek in her hand, she squessed them gently, making the young girl giggle. "Hi Y/N"

"Do wanna colour with me?" Y/N asked.

"Awww... sorry Y/N, but I have stuff to do but when I'm finished, I'll draw with you ok?" Cass pulled out her pinky and gave a wame smile to Y/N. "Oh, okay" Y/N pouted but linked her pinky with cass's.

After that Y/N found herself in the kitchen looking for dick. When she saw him, he was eating a bowl of cornflakes. Y/N stood before him, reaching up and tugged at her oldest brothers shirt. Dick stopped his eating and looked down, smiling softly at his little sister. "What's up baby bird?"

"Do u wanna colour with me?" She asked hopefully. "Sorry little bird, I can't draw with you right now. I'm in a bit of a rush but you can ask Jason or Tim. They should be around somewhere" and before Y/N could say anything, Dick drowned the last chunk of his cornflakes down and rushed down hall. Y/N huffed and went back to the sofa.

After a while, Y/N heard the voices of Jason and Tim. She saw them holding duffel bags the same one that cass had. She smiled at them before walking off to ask them to colour with her.

"Morning J, morning Timmy"

"Morning kid!" Jason Pet the top of Y/N's head.

"Good morning Y/N" Tim smiled down at her. "What's that?" He pointed to the leather case newt ro the sofa. "It's my new colours daddy got for me" she smiled up at them.

"Wow. Cool"

"Can you colour with me?"

"Sorry kid. Me and Timmy here are gonna work out. Maybe late with can" Jason said rubbing the back of his head.

"Oh, it's fine" She pouted before walking away to the staircase.

"Do you think we broke a 4 year olds heart?" Tim whispered feeling guilty.

"We probably did Timmy"

~timeskip~

Bruce walked along the halls trying to find atleast one of his kids. But he then stopped in his tracks when he heard crying? He looked at the door near his left, it was his youngest room. Why would she be crying?

He opened the door to see his little girl curled up on her bed and tears running down her face. The site in front of him, broke his heart. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?" he asked softly.

The young girl looked up her father and wiped her face before speaking. "No one wants to colour with me"

Bruce's heart broke more at hearing those words. He had to make her feel better but how? "Hey, why don't we go and get some cookies? Alferd just pulled a new batch out of the oven" He gave a warm smile.

The girls face lit up at that idea."Ok, daddy" she held out her arms signalling that she wanted to be carried, Bruce gladly took his little girl into his arms and the father and daughter made their way down to the kitchen.

~in the cave~

"Sup Damian?" Dick waved at him as he placed his towel to the side. He grabbed the gymnastic rings and turned to Jason. "Light day Jason?" He lifed his legs up and held himself up. "I was just getting warmed up actually" Jason started doing push ups with one arm. "98...99...100!"

"Pssh, that's nothing" Dick and Jason turned to look at Tim who started doing push ups with his tumbs and pointer fingers.

"You're all pathetic" Damian lifted his body up and did a handstand. "This is what you should be doing"

Jason moved next ro Damian and did the same thing. "Sorry kid your not special"

"How... about this!" Dick did a handstand with one hand using his tumb and pointer finger.

Jason, Tim, Dick and Damian were all doing the same thing together. "First one... to hundred... wins"

Cass looked over at them as she drank water. "Bad idea"

~Later that night~

The four boys were sitting around the table groaning in pain every time they moved. Cass sat perfectly fine, enjoying the meal that Alferd had made.

"Ow. So much ow" Dick threw his head back against his chair. Damian was crouching in his chair. Tim was trying to eat his dinner, with his foot. "Come on, I-I... I can do this" Jason tried tilting the plate with his head. "Can't... reach"

Cass turned to the four boys eating her food with utensils. "Told you guys it was a bad idea" Jason smashed his face into his food. Suddenly, Y/N popped up from the doorway. "Are you guys ready to colour now?"

"S-sorry Y/N... I don't think I can move my arms" Dick slowly turned his head towards her and gave a weary smile.

"But you guys said you would?" she pouted.

"Sorry Y/N" Tim muttered, dropping his spoon in the process. "Dang it" Jason muttered his Sorry through his food. "I can still draw with you Y/N" Cass held Y/N's hand and lead her out of the dinning room. Y/N turned her head towards her brothers and frowned, "You're all imbec- imbeci-...mean!" She huffed her checks out in anger.

The four boys groaned in pain and Damian shrank down in his chair in shame.

#fyp #x reader #x child read #batfam x reader #batfam x child reader #batfam x batsis #Jason todd #jason todd x reader #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #tim drake #tim drake x reader #damian wayne x sister reader #damian wayne #batboys x sister reader #bruce wayne x daughter reader #x daughter reader #batfam x sister reader #batfam

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gallusrostromegalus · 4 months

Note

Hi Gallus, I just wanted to let you know that your airport posts appeared on the bestofreddittorupdates subreddit. I think you’ve posted before about not being ok with your stuff being posted elsewhere, so I wanted to let you know.

I've decided that the policy is:

Anyone who reposts my content for profit or for a paid job without my permission, like the handful of magazine and blog "Staff writers" I've had to DMCA nuke, can get fucked.

If you want to repost to instagram, reddit, w/e social media where you only get internet points, I don't really mind, but PLEEEEEASE include a link to my pinned post or Ko-fi because weird stories is how I support myself. BestOfReddittorUptates poster, if you're here, would you please link the Ko-fi on the reddit post? https://ko-fi.com/gallusrostromegalus Here's a convenient link and everything.

If you want to do a dramatic reading for your youtube, write an article for your blog or write a stageplay based on one of my posts, where you will make money and/or get a grade for it, Just Ask first? I'll probably say yes, but it's rude when people decide to make stuff for money or school with my work and ask me for "permission" after the fact. Also, please link back.

Fanart or Fic based on my posts is always fine. @me about it, I wanna see and my activity page is a mess.

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mc-i-r · 10 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.

Taglist: @tea-beloved @starry-eyedlune @hyperfixationgoddess @zerokrox-blog @nicovania @invisibleflame812 @chaoticvictorianspirit @justforthedead89 @dacremontgomeryay @vhelt @adhdsummer @nerd-and-nervous @i-have-three-feelings @mimicori @remuslupinisthevoiceofgod @solliesolesito @romanticdestruction @vanillatwist @bowl-o-queerios @grimmfitzz

(If you want to be added or removed please let me know!)

#steddie #stranger things #pre steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things fillet #stranger things drabble #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #things get better for Steve i promise #hes just having his angsty time right now #robins part is next tho so stay tuned for that #disposable heroes

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thelunarsystemwrites · 3 months

Text

Inviting other artists!

So I've just made a superhero AU for utmv. Right? Well, I really only wanted to design one guy, Lust. Sooo I'm opening the AU (WHICH LITERALLY HAS NO LORE YET SO NO WORRIES) for others to partake in!

Here's like, the basic lay out.

Choose one Sans AU to turn into superhero/villain. Please refrain from using a Sans someone else claimed.

Make them into a superhero/villain themed after something specific. (Example: A plant themed superhero, or even a cactus one!)

Keep powers balanced with weaknesses, please make them relate to their theme!

Give them a civilian identity! You don't have to draw this one, but make sure to mention their civil job and name!

Give them a Superhero/Villain name as well!

Wait, supervillain?

OH YES! You can choose the mortal alignment of your claimed Sans! Super hero, villain, neutral, vigilante? Just pick whatever you want!

Of course headcanons are welcome, it's Canon to YOUR design! Make them trans, gay, autistic, whatever! (Human designs are allowed too!)

Wait.. what do I (the artist reading this) Even get out of doing this?

Well I'll tell you! For one, its a fun artist challenge where you personalize and create a whole new hero/Villain to your preferences!

You also get to imagine their lore, and incorporate their personality into the story! They'd all be canon part of the AU. (Note: if someone claimed a sans first and you did it anyways, yours wouldn't be Canon unless issues occurred with the OG/they gave you permission.)

I dunno, I just wanna make an AU with a ton of people, ya know? I think it's be fun for us to work together on this.

CLAIMED LIST:

Lust: Hero. Complete. By @thelunarsystemwrites.

Reaper: Vigilante. Completed by @solusminds.

Outer: Vigilante. Complete by @dzasterdumpterfire

Ink: Retired Hero. Complete by @lix88888

Error: Supervillain. Complete by @its-paperd

Dust: Claimed by @billygoat26

Farmer: Claimed by @absurdumsid

Cross: Claimed by @weirdest-worlds

Geno: Claimed by @eldritchcats

Shattered: Claimed by @genderfluidyellowocto

Nightmare: Supervillain. Completed by @analexthatexists

Killer: Claimed by @a-menacetosociety

Dream (and core frisk): Claimed by @thenocturnenarrator

Blue: Superhero, complete by @createbellatheartist

Fell: Supervillain, complete @underrrtaleee-freakk

Quantum: Superhero. Completed by @nashdoesstuff (Also made an OC for the AU, Dreamshade! Superhero.)

Horror: Neutral Evil. Completed by @it-came-from-mount-ebott

Ccino: Claimed by @some-aroace-chaos

Fresh: Claimed by @nightmareishomophobic

Die sans: Claimed by @dustsansm1

Bill: Supervillain. Completed by @endless-emptyness (OC Nanno made by sane person!)

Epic: Claimed by @dtdrawz

Fatal error: Claimed by @spookyboris2

Swan: Claimed by @glitching-moon

Sci: Claimed by @joonebugg

Dance: Claimed by @dv-reblogs

Swad: Claimed by @shinanigans-art

Littletale: Claimed by @somehhuuuhh

Possession: Claimed by @b0nerific-individual

Alter: Claimed by @annabel184

Paperjam: Vigilante. Completed by @papple

Decadent society: Supervillain. Complete by @supper122

Green Sans: Claimed by @xxcross-is-a-helicopterxx

Roulette: Claimed by @ant1quarian

On the claimed list, if you claim a Sans (By commenting or reblogging saying "Dibs Blank!" Or "Can I do blank?" Etc! I'll add it on the List saying: "Sans: Claimed by User"

Once it's made, please tag me so I can see! Then I'll update it to "Sans: Moral alignment. By User." And link it on this post! [Please only claim one, we want enough to go around! However you can claim variations! So one person could make dream, another could make shattered!]

[Note I do not claim any ownership over your designs for the AU, nor will I use your design w/o permission.]

With all that said! Anyone interested? [And hey, if you're not interested? It's okay to just not join. Or ignore this!]

Asks! (Questions regarding the AU!)

Can we make our own lore woth other characters?

Secondary claims?

Only two grabs?

Can we have OCs?

Can we use our own AUs?

#Superhero AU #undertale au #alternate universe #undertale alternate timeline #Utmv #underlust #undertale #Aus #Art #If anyone wants to join in just lemme know!#Utmv superhero au

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olivianyx · 2 months

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Hey babe, I'm not going for my sad story but I struggled for 2 years ,it's not like success story but Now I have friends, my family I'm feeling good. My others thinks are also perfect. But all I want is to enter void coz I want my perfect dream life so bad , but I have really packed schedule for my school , please tell me something At night I get really tired And slept .

I really want to enter void

OKAY THIS IS FOR EVERYONE TRYING TO (BECOMING AWARE OF) ENTER THE VOID STATE

Heyy! Sorry for the late response 😭😭 school's beating up my ass as well.

Okay, the overrated void community here. So as I always say, void isn't difficult. It's easy as fuck and you always enter it while you fall asleep. Only thing you gotta do is be AWARE in the void.

Well that's where everyone over complicates it. Just become AWARE. Ik it's instant for some people, while some take patience, practice and consistency to enter the void.

Well this applies for the people who take action (action in the sense changing the story they focus on), discipline themselves and do whatever consistently.

And not to the people who know all the info and still choose to complain or procrastinate. Well I don't blame you for being this way, since you're programmed to be this way since childhood, and it's not your fault. But, it's your fault if you know it, and don't program it the way you want it to be.

So I'll be going to give you sone tips that everyone and anyone can use.

TIP NO. 1

SELF CONCEPT

I won't stop mentioning this in my posts. IT'S THE KEY TO MANIFESTING. YOU'RE LITERALLY CHANGING YOURSELF TO SEE THE CHANGE OUTSIDE! I recommend reading @/meraskii posts on Instagram, she explains self concept better than I do, and she's got a challenge you can try it for yourself. I recommend watching these YouTubers

Rita Kaminski

Dylan James

Sammy Ingram

Hyler

Kim Velez

Indigo Detry

Manifesting with Kimberly

Manifest it, finesse it

Electrasoul

They're excellent coaches, you can watch their videos. All of their videos changes your lives!

TIP NO. 2

Read COPY OF ROTTEN'S PRACTICAL GUIDE TO SHIFTING REALITIES

Here's, she explains very well of the infamous FOCUS 10 STATE, which is nothing but MIND AWAKE, BODY ASLEEP state. Try using Monroe's gateway tapes, she's linked it in the guide herself. Follow her instructions. It's really good to use it at the night time especially. But don't use it if you're really tired that you fall asleep when you hit your head at the pillow. Use it when you're more relaxed and not tired.

Use it till you effortlessly enter the focus 10. Again don't ask me 'hOw LoNg Do YoU tHiNk It TaKeS?' Tf?? Like literally, people don't understand the meaning of living in the end??? Like fulfill it this moment and fucking let go. For some people, because of their mindset might get into focus 10 in one listen or one try. Others may get it in a week, in a month, and longer. So have patience. Have some self discipline, and maintain consistency. It's like practicing to play piano. You won't get how to play it in one try, you'll practice it everyday until you get it. The same concept. Get your lazy ass up and go do it. Practice this now, for an eternity of bliss.

Like you know how useful this focus 10 is?? Like you can shift realities, get into the void, manifest whatever the fuck you want and so on. It's literally wonderful.

When you can get into focus 10 effortlessly, you can go to advanced focus 10 tape. There's proper instructions in the guide. Get your lazy complaining ass go through the guide once (compulsorily!) since she's mentioned many things you never know you needed.

After you practice with these gateway tapes, and you're perfectly in a state where you can get that BODY ASLEEP MIND AWAKE state, you're good to enter the void with this state!

TIP NO. 3

Enter the void! And fucking go live your dream life! I wanna see y'alls success stories.

- Olivia 🤍

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transbunnyboi · 4 months

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Hi, hi, hi!! It's ur fav bunnycunt hairy boi again!!! ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ I'm the most insatiable bunny here!! Previously @t4tbunnyboy (still there, but it was a sideblog!!)

My name is Jervi, you all know that. You can also call me Bunny, Hare or something like that !!! Age: 27 Height: 4'11" (I know…) No surgery!! On T, ftm, blond w/ brown eyes!!! Also around my eyes is rlly pink/red and I have an overbite with big teeth sooooo i rlly am a bunny boy i guess hehehe !!!

18+ BLOG!!! Minors DNI (DO NOT INTERACT) !!!!! If you do not have your age in bio or pinned, you will be blocked :3 31+ DNI !!!! Taken!!!! :33333

This acc is here so I can be uhmmmm a slutty fag online!!! HOWEVER!! I don't like DMs aaa I heavily prefer asks and will prolly ignore ones asking for dms srryyyy !!!

Petnames I like: Bunny (obvi), Rabbit, Hare etc., anything with boy in it (good boy, pretty boy yk), prince, uhmmmm uhmmm professor. Oh, also breeding toy :3 (uhmmm i also rlly rlly REALLY like being called a faggot pleaaase call me this hsdgfjhdgf) Names I don't like: Kid/Kiddo, angel, princess, anything with girl in it. that's pretty much it !!

Yes (bold I love); breeding, edging, light cnc, size difference, praise, somno, exhibitionism, intox, overstimulation, knife-play, hypno (either way), primal play, fear (?? Idk i like being scared while i'm getting fucked), petplay, Vampire kink, stalking (which plays into the fear thing I have uhmmm), soft cnc, slight degradation (mainly calling me. a faggot...) ummm there's more but I can't think

NO: feet stuff, anal, misgendering/detrans, ageplay, raceplay, vomit or anything unhygienic (I'm germophobic aaa), deepthroating, etc. I guess I'll think of more to add here but chances are if its along these lines, i won’t enjoy it.

Send asks plsplsplsplspls Ask me questions, tell me what to do, tell me dirty things!!!

i’m extremely horny and I want nothing more than attention pleaseee !! ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

OH I forgot!! Terfs, Nazis, pedos or anyone who is fucking weird/a terrible person will be beheaded if I see them !!! ૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝ ྀི꒱ა Emojis that are taken: !!(he/him), ⭐,💜(they/he/she), 🦈, 🐦(they/he/she), 🐱, 🦴, 🧬(he/him),💙(she/her), ⚰️ (he/they/it), ☕ (he/it), 🪻 (he/they), 🫧, 🖊️ (they/them/he/him), ❄️(he/him), 🏴‍☠️(They/them/it/its),🌿 ( he/they), 🐸, 🦇 (any),🍃(any), 🍒, 🗡️, 🐶 (they/them), 🦗, ⚡️(he/him), ♥️ (they/them), 🐾, 🐺(he/they), 👻(he/him), 🌱 (they/it), 🪷 (he/him), 🌷 (she/they), 📋, 🦊 (she/her),🗣️(he/him),🍷 (he/him), 🐭 (he/it), 🐉 (They/He/It), 🪽 (fae•faem), 🦚, 💏, 🫀(he/him), 🇨🇵, 🐏 (she/it), 🌹(he/him), 🌸, 🦷

#puppoy archives is the tag I made for those who wanna read about my uhm. ADVENTURES with my ??? co-worker :3

The discord server for anons is available for those who ask for the link (you have to state your age when you send asks for the first time, and restate it when you ask for server) :3

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wayfayrr · 5 months

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By your side from day one <3

finally set aside some time to finish off wilds turn for being self aware, the smartest one who found a way to get out without breaking your tv and getting the glass shards of screen everywhere. I'll be back on requests and such soon though!! <3

[masterlist]

“Come on [name], you can’t be serious about missing out on plans just to talk to someone you don’t even know is real.”

“You say like I would want to go clubbing tonight either way, besides he’s said he’s just been working up the courage to video call.”

“And you trust that?”

They’ve got enough of a conscious to look a bit ashamed when I look at them, I know they’re worried for me but of all the things to be so worked up about this seems harmless.

“What if I told you that he was messaging me and telling me to stop talking to you.”

“Can you show me the proof.”

“Well… no. he deleted them immediately afterwards.”

Are they just jealous? This is so unlike them that it’s offputting. I know they can get a little worked up when I get close to other people but accusing my online friend - accusing wild - of threatening them? It’s petty and childish. Are they afraid I’ll replace them or something?

“Okay, alright. This isn’t going to make me cut him off you know?”

“[name]...”

“Reach out when you don’t feel like senselessly trying to cut me off from others. I’ll see you around.”

Hopefully, it’s sooner rather than later, but if they don’t? It’s their own fault they thought they would need to sabotage my other relationships to get closer to me. They even have the audacity to call out after me as I’m leaving, still trying to warn me about him, like they can’t accept I would dare get close to anyone else. Not like it doesn’t feel awful potentially losing a friend like this, but what can I really do?

The trip home seems to pass in a blur, until I’m already collapsed onto my couch with a familiar notif going off on my phone. Opening it proves it is exactly what I expected it to be, a message from him, asking me how my day has gone showing me more care than nearly every other person in my life ever has. Not expecting me to drop everything on a dime for him, even if recently he’s been getting more possessive in his messages like he wants to be serious when I’ve never seen his face.

- I’ve been decent, met up with a friend. Not much really, you? -

- Had to do chores for someone I don’t like >:( wanna get away from everything tbh -

- why not just up and leave? -

- I mean, it’s not like I haven’t been planning something -

Seems like the possessive streak has worn off now then, so I don’t have to worry about mentioning friends again. There isn’t even a reason he should be possessive of me though, unless he’s got a secret crush or something. Which I hope he doesn’t, he’s been speaking to me for barely a couple of weeks.

- You free to call tonight? It’s been a while. -

- I’m good rn if you are. I’ll just grab my headphones - one sec -

- :DD perf perf -

Honestly a call will be nice, I can just zone out for a bit, play some games and chat. It’s the perfect way to destress after everything that happened earlier, I still can’t believe they threw away our friendship over something so small. Maybe I should just block their number and drop them even if they do try and apologise, I don’t really need people like that in my life.

“So then love, any plans for tonight?”

“I thought you said you were gonna drop calling me that?”

“It’s silly and you didn’t answer my question anyway.”

“Nah not really. I’m just loading up breath of the wild, been a bit since I’ve -”

“Oh shit.”

Has wild been link this whole time, wait - how did he get access to the internet, HOW IS HE SENTIENT?

He’s just sitting in his hateno house, holding the sheikah slate like a phone and silently, through the switch anyway, talking. The look of horror on his face is gut-wrenching though.

“You - you…”

“Oh - uh - I mean. Come on love it’s not that bad is it? I - I’m not going to hurt you, I swear.”

“I don’t think I want to deal with this right now… I’m sorry I just.”

The look of horror and shame shifted terrifyingly fast when he noticed me moving to turn off the switch, replacing itself with fear and anger before he steeled himself, and presses his hand against the slate’s screen?

…

He - he’s reached through my phone to grab onto my wrist.

“No, don’t turn me off, I can’t go back to being just a voice. Please”

“How… how are you DOING THIS?”

“That… Isn’t what matters right now.”

His grip feels so nervous, he looks it too - which makes sense, I would probably be petrified if I lost my body just because I was trapped in a game. I can’t turn him off that would be cruel… he deserves better than that.

It instantly lightened as I moved to sit back down, a sigh of relief echoing through both my tv speakers and my phone, as he let go the second I sat with his hand retreating through my unbroken phone.

“Okay, you promise you won’t try to turn me off?”

“I won’t if you’ll explain.”

“That - that’s fair, I can do that for you love and - if I told you that I think I’ve figured out a way to get out? Would you let me live with you?”

“So that’s why you were so forward abou- yes you can. When you’ve explained everything. And made it certain you’re not planning to kill me because you’re scared of me sending you back.”

The reverb’s stopped now, which makes talking a lot more pleasant and less like he’s trying to intimidate me now, not that I blame him for it if I was about to condemn him back to that hellscape. I just, I really hope he isn’t trying to get out just to kill me, I don’t think I would ever be able to get over my childhood crush wanting to kill me even if he has every right to want that.

“What- No no I don’t - why - why would you think I would ever want to even hurt you let alone KILL. I - love I. I love you. That’s why I’m doing all of this - I - I.”

He’s crying. I should’ve known that he wouldn’t do anything like that - it’s within his right to - but he’s link, he’s the hero, the protagonist who was stuck to my side through it all. I know I shouldn’t have said that it wasn’t meant to be cruel but it was careless enough to hurt him.

“I’m sorry, I came on to strong, you - you have every right to be scared of me. I promise though love I - I will never hurt you ever.”

“I know… I just panicked. You can explain now I won’t overreact again I swear. Or if you’d prefer -”

“If I would prefer..?”

“Why not get out first, then explain?”

Lighting up a firework in my face would have been less blinding than his smile in that moment, it’s such a sweet smile - a genuine one too. Meaning that I said the right thing, that I’m doing the right thing by giving him this chance.

Hopefully, I won’t regret it.

“Really? You’ll let me do that?”

“I think it’s a good idea, it’ll be easier to talk to you as well. Just - how are you going to go this?”

“Um, oh, well uh, I think I could possibly make your switch into a mock version of a warp medallion? Then link my slate to it and just well”

“That makes sense, you can go ahead then, shouldn’t take long right?”

“No, no it won’t.”

A couple of seconds was all the wait it needed for him to stumble out of the blue lights and right onto me, clearly disorientated by the shift into reality. Probably not as bad as any of the 2d links would have struggled to be fair to him. It was an even shorter wait for him to jump onto me and cling even tighter than a koala could ever hope to, nuzzling up against my neck like it’s the only - because - it’s the only real touch he’s ever felt.

“So you want to explain then?”

“Could we wait? That took much more effort than I thought. I just want to rest a bit if that’s alright.”

“As soon as you’re rested enough to. You going to sleep for a bit then?”

“No I still want to talk, just about something less taxing?”

Seems like he’s more dodging the topic than anything, which is fine I can get him to talk about it later, there really isn’t a rush for anything. It’s fine. Besides he’s like an excited kid that’s staying up way past his bedtime right now, where’s the harm in staying like this for a bit?

“Mind if I ask why you’re so determined to call me ‘love’ then?”

“Because you’re everything to me, my light, my love, my life - you’ve been with me through everything. From when I woke to killing ganon and you didn’t abandon me there. You’ve shown me your favourite cities, stuck with me when you had the choice to choose others because you said I am you favourite, so really? How could I not love you?”

“You were aware even in Mariokart?”

His giggle is sweet, he’s so charming right now, especially with how unaware of it he is. It’s so earnest and unfiltered, just so raw, I could go the rest of my life with that being the only thing I ever hear again. Compared to how he acted in cutscenes as well? He’s happy. Tired but happy.

“Oh before I forget, You should be expecting a delivery actually!”

“What.”

“I’ve been wanting to get out of the game for a while so I ordered some things to try make myself more appealing to you.”

“Like what? Link you didn't need to do anything like that.”

He just shrugged, seems like I won’t be getting an answer to that till whatever arrives whenever it does. Seems he really wasn’t lying about being tired though, he’s already starting to fall asleep laying against me like this. Thankfully he’s light enough to move to a more comfortable position, although theres nothing I can do about how tightly he’s holding me and truthfully? There’s nothing I want to do about it.

“Y’know I think I could get used to this.”

“Yo’ will I pr’mise, I’ll make you addicted to m’.”

“Well that isn’t ominous at all… and you’re already asleep.”

#linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #link x reader #yandere link #lu wild #lu wild x reader #botw x reader #botw link x reader #moss✦writes #botw link #tloz #self aware au #self aware tloz

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6mmad · 2 years

Text

"i wanna be a homemaker for you"

homemaker: one who manages a household especially as a spouse and parent

heavily inspired by @belphego-or post called "obey me bros as househusbands" it's so good!! please give it a read

link is right here!

lucifer

He doesn't wanna admit how much he likes the idea of coming home from work to see you waiting for him

"Like" , of course, is an understatement. He loves it. The idea of you trusting him enough to dedicating yourself that much... It feeds his pride like nothing else

Naturally, his brothers are still in the house, he can't be without them and they need him as much as he does them.

Regardless of this fact, being a homemaker for Lucifer means that you live like royalty

Groceries? You get only the best ingredients and food. Clothes? Don't worry you have a walk-in closet. Super expensive hobby? He's got it covered.

You wanna buy something stupid that costs too much? "Tsk tsk......buy it before I change my mind, MC."

Doesn't really care if you're an expert at cooking or cleaning, he just has a very strict affection schedule, MC. If he's home by 11pm you have to be in his arms by 11:15pm, no ifs or buts.

He knows that being a homemaker is draining work so expect to see a spontaneous "Be ready by 10. We're going out, I Love you" every other weekend.

mammon

Someone pinch him cause YOU??? are trusting YOUR FIRST?? to provide and care for you and he gets the pleasure of coming home to you..... EVERYDAY???

Ego boost to the max, he's so ready to brag about this anyone and anything with a pulse

"Sorry, Im just rushing' cause I got someone waiting for me at home, ya kno?"

"Me? I slept like a baby, especially after the dinner my MC cooked for me"

Being a homemaker for Mammon means you're getting spoiled with gifts. Are all your basic necessities met? Yes. But did Mammon also randomly buy you a 600$ foot massager cause you got a foot cramp yesterday? ...Yes.

You're Mammon's best friend, so trust that when he gets back from work you're gonna hear about everything that happened and who has beef with who.

Mammon likes to check in on you the most, texting you throughout his work day and asking you if there's anything you need or want.

His favorite things are good morning kisses and goodnight kisses, knowing you're the first and last thing he sees everyday makes him feel all his hard work is worth it.

levi

When you first propose the idea to Levi, he can't believe it, just the image of him coming home to you in an apron is enough to make him lose his cool.

But soon enough he understands that he has to work hard for you since, after all, providing for someone isn't free and he refuses to cheap out on his Henry

Levi is a dedicated husband and part of that means that he absolutely requires you to do your job..

...the job which is kissing him goodbye before he leaves for work

Levi will do anything and everything you ask him to do, he just wants your love and attention in return. Kisses, hugs, words of approval, you name it.

Being a homemaker for Levi means that you live to your taste. Sure Levi has his gaming room, but everything else is up for grabs.

You want to completely remodel the kitchen? Give Levi a little kissing and loving and all of a sudden you have an appointment with an interior designer

If you're happy then Levi feels like he's done his job. He knows being a homemaker requires a lot of trust in your part and for that, he swears to be the best partner he can for you.

___a/n

this came out longer than i thought i would, so i only did three brothers for now, maybe i'll do more (???)

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thebucketpail · 10 months

Text

Of course the one time I actually fill a prompt I forget to save it and end up losing it to the tumblr void.

Alas, if I find it I'll link it but until then, have this.

Tw: light gore, mentions of vivisection

____________

This wasn't the team's first lab break in and it definitely wouldn't be their last. That is to say, they've seen alot of shit. Alot of mad scientists and what resulted from their insanity, their cruelty. But they had never expected to find something like this on what was supposed to be a low stakes mission.

Robin had been the first to find the dingy little cell, not far from the main lab, and stood stunned in abject horror as the others came in behind him.

"Oh god," he heard Arrowette whisper, followed by a litany of strangled gasps and the sound of Superboy's knuckles cracking.

It was terrible, but Robin couldn't manage to tear his eyes away from the curled up teen tied to the wall.

The boy was unconscious, his stark white hair, matted with grime and some green substance, covered the top of his face, a muzzle covered the bottom. What was left visible was littered with cuts and angry purple bruises. Whatever clothes he had been wearing were tattered and torn, displaying yet more injuries.

What was probably the worst, as far as Robin could tell, was the dirty gauze haphazardly taped to his neck. The dressings were soaked through with more of that green liquid, which Robin relised with a hobble sink to his gut was probably the kid's blood.

Robin swallowed the bile threatening to rise to his throat and turned back toward his team. He took a deep breath.

"Okay, new plan," he said, doing his best to keep his leader voice, "Superboy, you get those chains off him. Team, this is no longer an Intel mission, this is search and rescue. Impulse, Secret, Arrowette, fan out. Check the rest of the building for any other prisoners. If you find anyone then report immediately. WG, you call back to Red. I'll see what I can pull out of their database. Remember to keep your heads."

A round of nods was all he got in return before everyone set out on their tasks.

Robin had just wormed his way to into the system when Superboy walked in, the unconscious kid in his arms, and a seriously pissed expression on his face.

"I never thought Cadmus could go this far," he growled, brows furrowing.

Robin grunted on acknowledgement, then made a light sound of surprise as the archaic system finally loaded.

"Well then it's a good thing we aren't at Cadmus then," he mumbled disbelieving as he dove further and further into the newly available files. Quickly, he pulled an empty USB from his utility belt and set to work downloading what looked important, facility locations, blueprints, documents, research, etc.

"Where are we then?" Superboy asked, setting the kid down to peer over Robin's shoulder.

"Some place called the GIW, ghost investigation ward," Robin murmered, "according to these files, they're some kind of government org, designed to hunt and study ghosts. Our guy over there," he jutted his chin toward the kid, "is apparently really powerful. They have alot of files on him and something called the ghost zone."

Suddenly they were interrupted by a serious of loud crashes followed by shouting and Impulse zipping into the room.

"Heyguyswegottago," he sped out before taking in a huge lung full of air and continuing at a slightly slower pace. Slightly. "Reinforcements just arrived and they don't look like they're happy to see us. We couldn't find anyone else other then some asshole scientists. Cissie kicked their butts."

Robin nodded and pulled the USB from the port. "Tell the other to meet back at the super cycle, it's time to go." Impulse nodded and sped back off.

--------

It wasn't their best escape, but it certainly wasn't their worst. Those GIW agents were persistant bastards but it wasn't anything the supercycle couldn't handle.

They were en route back the cave when Superboy called out, "Hey Rob, you might wanna see this." He and WG had been tasked with administering first aid (to the best of their abilities) to their rescue, so that wasn't exactly something Ribin was thrilled to hear.

He let Supercycle switch to auto pilot before climbing to the back seat to see what had his team so freaked out. And yeah. That would do it.

If he thought the neck wound was bad, that was nothing. What was left of the kids torn shirt was removed to reveal a massive Y-shaped incision across his chest. The scars were red and inflamed, mottled with angry bruises and so, so many tiny holes, giving the impression that the wound had been stitched uo and reopened on numerous occasions. The implications of the wound was clear.

Robin set his jaw as he met Superboy's eyes. The confusion was prominent. he didnt know what to do.

"Just do you're best to clean it for now," he said, "we'll have Red look at him when we get back to base."

As Robin settled back into the driver's seat, he mentally added the GIW to his list of enemies. Anyone who had the power to do that, government or not, was going down

#dpxdc #dp x young justice #dpxdc Danny phantom #dpxdc superboy #dpxdc robin #dpxdc impulse #dpxdc wonder girl #dpxdc secret #dpxdc arrowette #vivisection fic #dp x dc crossover #i may add another installment if i have the motivation #but we'll see #bucket writes things

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 4 months

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AITA for asking my mother not to do certain things?

Let me start off by saying i'm homeschooled. I've been homeschooled my entire life. I don't have any friends offline, so I've pretty much come here to ask for outside opinions from my friend groups (online).

Prefer not to state ages, if that's okay. It makes me uncomfortable.

I have ocd, suspected autism, and either auditory processing disorder or misophonia (we're not sure which.) as well as a plethora of other issues. my mother is very aware that i have ocd (she has it herself) and i've mentioned misophonia to her several times. she doesn't know about my other mental issues, as for reasons you're probably going to see here, as i don't feel comfortable or safe telling her. (or, i've tried, and she doesn't listen, or tells me i'm "being dramatic.")

my ocd is quite crippling, to the point i've tried medication, herbal tea (chamomile seems to work a bit!), asking friends for advice, and even asking her for advice. as of the last year, it's had a grip on my life and has been quite a problem for me. i'm unable to do things i want or need to a lot, and especially struggle doing most things, even basic tasks. i'm unable to see a therapist/counsellor or psychologist/psychiatrist for personal/financial reasons.

a lot of my triggers (well, not exactly triggers for the ocd, but they stop me from doing things.) revolve around sound, especially people talking. whistling is a major trigger for my misophonia/apd, as are other high pitched noises.

my mother has a tendency to watch tv a lot, and i often ask her to not do this when i'm trying to do certain things, as it makes my ocd a bit worse, and it's often rather loud. (please note i wear headphones a lot of the time for sensory issues.)

however, when i ask her either to turn it down, pause it temporarily, or ask her to turn it off for a bit, she has a tendency to get mad/upset. to the point of throwing a bit of a fit over it, in a way that to me seems a bit attention seeking (in the bad way). she says things like "fine, whatever." and flaps her arms about dramatically or slaps her legs, or she says "i don't even wanna watch it now, it's ruined."

i'll go ahead and say she's a bit self-centered in a lot of ways. for years she has said i've "targeted" her and "treated her terribly" even though any time i was (to her) doing these things, i was usually defending myself or telling her to do something that she needed to do that had been requested for days/weeks/months/sometimes years. i also have a tendency to ask her what she's doing, either out of genuine curiosity, or because she has done something strange to me that i didn't understand. which she gets mad over.

she also gets mad if i ask if she's coming over here (i have a tendency to walk/pace in certain areas to music, it helps with stress/adhd/also helps me write/act things out. she is very aware of this and this isn't really a problem.) or ask how long she will be over here. she seems to think me asking this is telling her she can't come over, or desperately trying to get her to move. admittedly sometimes i DO want her to move, but 90% of the time i am just asking so i know if i need to move to a different area to walk or just stop temporarily.

sometimes when i am having a particular peak in my ocd/anxiety/whatever else, i ask her not to talk for a moment/few minutes, either so i can do something i need to, or because i'm afraid it will make it worse. she'll either get mad about this, or go on a tangent about "not catering to me" and saying things "the real world doesn't work like this, and nobody cares that you have ocd/issues." she has a tendency to take my issues as a personal attack on her, when in reality i would ask anyone to stop for a moment.

she has a tendency to belittle me in a sense for it. i've tried to explain some of it to her (without revealing details of my trauma she doesn't know about, as most of my ocd is linked to severe ptsd.) and she says it "doesn't make any sense" and i "need to stop" and i "need to just make myself stop." she has ocd, and knows compulsions are not always rational, and yet still says these things.

part of my desire not to go to a therapist is because of her. she claims they will either try to put me away take me to another home/put me in foster care, or drug me up on medication that will make me dull. (the other part is more personal, and unrelated to her, but to my aforementioned trauma.)

one of the things i especially ask her not to do is whistle, or make a few other certain noises (eating loud, using nail files around me, etc) because they are especially triggering to me. she'll either blatantly refuse and say i "don't get to tell her what to do" or i don't "control her" (please note i am just asking, but when i DO specifically tell her to stop, it is because she either already knows this sound is triggering to me, or i've already asked, and i'm losing my patience.) or she'll do it louder/more just to trigger me further (my father also does this. sometimes as a joke which in some ways is worse.) or she'll go on the "not catering + nobody cares" tangent again.

i know my ocd and other issues can be a bit interrupting, but i don't ask huge things of her or anyone else. all i ask is for them to not make certain sounds around me, temporarily ask them to not do something/stop doing something, or ask them to do it a bit quieter for me. please note she has the ability to watch tv/videos on other devices with headphones easily, she just chooses not to. and worse of all, they treat it like it's not interrupting to me, when it affects my everyday life in ways far worse than asking/telling them not to do something.

it makes me feel unwanted and unappreciated, and i'll admit, i've contemplated....not existing, if you will, many times over this issue and others.

i just don't really know if i'm asking too much, or if they're just being shitty. i want outside opinions on this.

so, AITA?

(id put a tl;dr in here, but i don't really know what to put. feel free to do it for me. also, i know this was kinda long, but i needed to put some extra things in, sorry if thats like an inconvenience or anything!)

(adding my sideblog here so i can get notifs, @ocdaitathrowaway)

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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takes1 · 15 days

Note

Hi!!! I saw the Osamu x Reader post and as a Suna girlie it breaks my heart just a lil for Suna (very good stuff for Osamu and Reader tho, that was divine) but I was wondering maybe a slight part 2 for this where Suna gets his own happy ending? I say slight part 2 cuz Suna still has his heartbreak from the Osamu story but ends up with a different reader, perhaps? In my head it was Reader's relative who's much more of his type (relative part for slight drama, iykyk) but I'll leave that up to you!! For NSFW I'll also leave that up to you!! If that's not your cup of tea, you can ignore this ask, thanks a lot!!

hi!! thank you!! i def tried to take this in a slightly diff direction, just bc i was a little confused, but i kept the themes the same and the general prompt true to form! i hope this is alright! thanks for the request!!

warnings. sfw, alcohol consumption

info. angsty / hurt/comfort / timeskip!suna / very sad!suna / heartbreak!suna / previous relationship / suna not getting over breakup / misunderstandings / miscommunication / suna checking you out / happy ending / implied needy!suna / __ words

haikyuu collection. more here.

more links. my ao3. masterlist. requests open!

"Old-fashioned. Please," The man beside you was quiet. Raspy, in a young way, but carried an age's worth of reservation in what were so few words.

He was wearing a nice, linen shirt. Orange and yellow danced off of his Harry Winston watch, but it didn't compare to the glint in his eye as he turned to look at your equally classy style.

The name that breezed off of your lips a little too easy.

"Rintarou?"

Other voices from around the rest of the bar fell away. White noise to you- a loud, gray static to him.

His fingers felt ice cold despite not nursing a drink, a decision he regretted not partaking in sooner with the rest of his team, now.

The knot in his throat kept him from responding.

"Wanna start a tap?" The bartender slid his drink towards him. He eyed you when Suna didn't take it right away.

A brief glance between this tense scene was all it took to understand.

He offered his card between two fingers and took the seat next to you without a word.

"This isn't going to work out."

Three years. So many victories, so many trials-- gone. You swore up and down you never felt anything, even after you watched him break down into tears for an hour.

Your passive stare, completely impartial to whether he lived or died, was all the solace he got.

He must've cried for days. He almost didn't show up for graduation.

The twins thought he died.

Suna held an empty stare forward at the glossy counter- fingers circling the mouth of his glass, sometimes twirling it.

Drowning in vat of ice-cold water would be a warmer feeling than this eternal torture.

The memory of you walking out of the gym, holding yourself because you knew what you were doing, and now you had nobody to comfort you for your cruelty.

A shaky sigh fogged the cool glass on his bottom lip before he took a necessary sip.

Something kind, finally.

The heat that crawled down his throat eased your next words enough for him to bare through it.

"What are you doing here?"

Your sad attempt at trying to make conversation set him off.

His nose scrunched with the effort it took to try to pull himself together. Just your voice dragged him so far back into that deep, never ending spiral of insecurity and uncertainty.

His similarly-dressed team taking up space and sound on the other side of the bar was the first thing anyone was bound to notice. After winning a game, they usually went out for drinks- but just like every other time he was dragged along, he found himself not having as much fun as he ought to.

He grew weary of their energy and insistence that he get a girlfriend to cheer him up.

This quiet separation from the pack, his sulky demeanor, and the pain he wore on his brow was evident to even the bartender. He knew you could see it and hated himself for it.

"Celebrating," His voice was so quiet it took you seconds after to completely register it.

Watchful eyes waited for your expression to shift. It made you as uncomfortable as he wanted, but he couldn't keep the fortitude to enjoy it. He opted for his glass in time to watch his ice cube drop, shift in his drink. It looked fuller, now.

He brought the bitter thing up to his lips and handled it astoundingly well.

Your pretty eyelashes looked prettier when you looked away from him. Longer and fuller when you weren't facing him. That flawless makeup, caressed by the soft, warm light of the bar must've taken you hours.

You were different. He tried not to notice.

"How have you been?"

It wasn't an apology. His fingers slipped on the gathered condensation and he hesitated to take another sip so soon.

"Busy," He looked at your glittery shoulder when you faced him again, "You?"

There were a few moments of silence that he didn't notice. His low-lidded study of your little dress was soothing the burn in the back of his throat, a painful mix from needing to cry and the strength of his drink.

Part of him was relieved you hadn't let yourself go. You were a divine gift that any man would be glad to have, and his opinion, should be willing to break himself over.

The dress honored his useless devotion well.

Part of him would never forgive you for not throwing yourself into a pit of despair for your heartless words. His eyes hardened at once, now at the curve of your thighs that stayed crossed under the bar.

"Can you look at me?"

When his eyes shot up to meet yours, it felt like you were staring down a wounded animal.

The full weight of your decision dawned on you and you realized, all at once, that you had been wrong for years.

You hadn't spared him the way you convinced yourself that you had.

Something reminiscent of fear flashed across your face. He left you to think and chugged the rest of his whiskey. His ice clinked in the glass when he set it down and flagged the bartender.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," Slipped out, a little too early, as you both watched the glass refill with golden-brown color.

He squinted down and you were grateful it wasn't a look directed straight at you.

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," He snapped as soon as your company left.

With more time spent sitting next you, basking in your presence for the first time in so long, and his inhibition slowly fading, he felt himself start to get belligerent.

"I was-," You sighed, trying to control the frustration in your voice because you knew it wouldn't help, "I was trying to give you more options."

It was quiet for a long minute.

The hateful stare he kept on his own hand told you he was not convinced.

"I knew it would be tough on us, with you travelling for the team."

A tough brow softened, just a little. His thumb slid against the rim of the glass, thoughtful, about a better time. When he had something else to look forward to other than practice, or games.

"I didn't wanna put you through that. I didn't want- to make you choose."

His life was empty beyond the court. He couldn't imagine any scenario that would've played out to be worse than this. His face stung when he spared a sideways glance at your pretty face.

"So you chose for me," He rolled his cloudy eyes.

His words were like acid.

You couldn't swallow the lump in your throat. You turned from him, angry that he wasn't doing well, guilty that it had to do with something you thought was a good decision.

A big breath through your nose.

"And I'm sorry," You bit the inside of your cheek when he froze, "I really can't express how sorry I am."

The apology wasn't something he could rationalize as anything other than genuine, and heartfelt.

Confusion ran through him, made much worse by his buzz-- his eyes burned and he furiously wiped one eye. He had convinced himself you were secretly an emotionless, terrible person for doing that to him. The fact that you could possibly atone for it made him wildly uncomfortable.

His chair scraped when he pushed himself up to stand and face you. He kept one arm on the bar.

"I wanted to make it work!"

His version of loud was by no means actually loud, but it still startled you.

"And- you didn't," He was already back to a soft mutter, but it was wobbly when he kept talking, "I don't know what else I could've done, to be enough for you."

"You were enough," You instantly argued, "I just-,"

Another frustrated, teary sigh, "I didn't think I was."

It must've been muscle memory. Suna didn't realize he was wiping a tear from your face until his hand was already back down by his side.

He hated seeing you cry so much that it trumped his own lingering, maladaptive thoughts. Especially when you looked so good.

Your small, sad smile at his chivalry eased the weight in his chest.

He felt like he could breathe for the first time in years.

"You were everything to me," You admitted.

He had to take his seat at that. Closer, this time.

masterlist.

requests open.

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spoilmesweetieforficssake · 7 months

Text

Pregnant Reader - Part 4

Cravings (For Food, For Melissa)

Thank you to everyone who has liked and commented and reblogged this series so far (and an extra thank you to those of you who have even asked for more!)

What started out as a one shot has now turned into a little 5 part series. I'm not entirely sure when I'll manage to finish part 5, but I'll get there! (And to those of you who left prompts - I will also get there with them!)

Anyway, enough rambling - links to the previous parts of this little mini series below and part 4 under the cut. :)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You smile as Melissa puts your lunch bag down on the table in front of you, chuckling as promptly turns her chair around to face the opposite way before sitting down. It wasn’t the first time. At home there had been a number of occasions when the combinations you had been craving had made her want to vomit.

Barb, sat at the table with you both, watches with interest. “Did you two argue?”

“Nope,” replies Melissa. “I just don’t wanna see this.”

The other woman continues to watch as you open up your lunch, lifting the lids on the various containers within and starting to create your cravings masterpiece.

“That…puts my cravings to shame,” admits the kindergarten teacher. “That…”

“Is an abomination to all that is edible,” finishes the red head.

You just smile as you take a bite of your creation. Admittedly, your smile is aimed more at the fact that as disgusting as Melissa finds it, she’s the one who packed your lunch that day, albeit packing the components separately. She loves you, but putting those ingredients together is something she just won’t do for anyone.

“You are gonna love me!” grins Melissa as she closes the front door behind her.

“I already do!” you call through from the sofa where you’re trying to get comfortable.

“I got ‘em!” she grins as she appears in the doorway, waving the bag of chips at you. Propped on her hip she also holds an almost overflowing grocery bag. “I got ‘em all!”

“I do love you,” you manage through the tears that threaten to steal your words. You had been unable to settle, finally getting out of bed some time around 2am. It had been the opening of closing of every cupboard in the kitchen that roused a sleepy Melissa around an hour later.

Half asleep she had wrapped herself around you, her front pressed to your back, eventually cajoling you into admitting what you were looking for. Barely a few minutes later she had donned her jacket and had her car keys in hand.

“Melissa no, you can’t go out at this time.”

She had merely smirked. “Either I try and get these or we both you you’ll be pacing the floors all night and I won’t be able to sleep either.” With a peck to your cheek, she was gone.

But now she was back, dropping down onto the sofa next to you. You smile as she tucks herself into your side, kissing the top of her head. “How many stores did you have to go to to find them?”

She shrugs. “A few.”

You shake your head, knowing that a few probably meant every store that was open within a five mile radius. “You know I would have survived without them, right?”

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t be happy without them,” she says, reaching to open the bag of chips. She pops one in her mouth, screwing up her face at the flavour. “And you can have all of them.”

You chuckle. “Sure you don’t want another one?”

“Wouldn’t wanna deprive you and that little Tesoro you’re carrying,” she replies, her head coming to rest on your shoulder as her arm snakes around and comes to rest protectively across your bump.

It melts your heart every time she calls the baby by a fond little nickname, and she has plenty of them. The closer to the time of her arrival it gets, the more Melissa seems to do it, and you’re quite sure she’s unaware she’s doing it.

Feeling Melissa leaning more heavily against you, you twist your head to catch a look at her face. Eyes closed and mouth slightly open, she’s already in a deep sleep. With a smile, you reach and manage to catch the edge of the blanket that had been draped over the arm of the couch. Tucking it around the two of you, you try and crunch as quietly as you can as you continue to tuck into the fruits of Melissa’s midnight cravings snack run.

You’re aware of what you’re doing, almost painfully so. And you also know that Melissa has to have noticed it to. Neither of you would be considered the cuddliest of people, but you’re more tactile with each other than you are with anyone else. At this point, the touches exchanged between you are almost second nature, a hand on your back here, playing with the ends of Melissa’s flaming hair as she sits close, her hand resting on your thigh if you’re sat next to her. It’s never anything too obvious, but subtle and reassuring.

Or at least, it had been reassuring until you started to feel the effects of certain hormones. You had read that there was a possibility that during certain phases of your pregnancy when you might feel more horny than you normally would. You’d shrugged it off. So you might feel a little more turned on than usual, nothing you couldn’t handle.

What you hadn’t been prepared for was being horny all the time. Every little touch felt like it burned. The friction of your own pants could be enough to drive you to distraction. It was absurd. Humiliating. Especially when you had never felt less attractive in your life.

You felt huge and gross and swollen and sore. You try to tell yourself that the way Melissa looks at you has not changed, but when you look in the mirror, it’s difficult. You look like an inflated version of yourself. Your curves feel grossly emphasised by the ever growing life inside of you. It doesn’t help that nothing feels like it fits. Or at least, none of your usual go to outfits. No, anything you wear now comes from the maternity section and makes you feel fat and frumpy.

It's that feeling that has you shying away from Melissa’s touches, finding reasons to keep your distance. You hate it. Miss her even when you’re laying right next to her. In bed one night, you feel her press a kiss to the back of your clothed shoulder where you lay facing away from her.

“You want anything before I turn the light off?”

The way you shrug away from her doesn’t go unnoticed, and as you turn to answer her question you clearly see the hurt on her face before she manages to hide it. She forces a smile and shifts away from you. This time, however, rather than letting her, you reach out and catch her arm.

With no small effort, you sit up, turning to face her. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” she asks, the false smile never leaving her lips.

“’Lissa,” you sigh. “I know you’ve noticed. And I’m sorry. It’s not because I don’t want you to touch me, it’s because I feel…I feel like I’m on fire! Every little touch sets me ablaze and I feel like I’m going to explode!” You take a deep breath, stilling your gesturing hands. “I want it so bad, but I don’t want you to feel like I’m using you. Like this is all hormones and you’re just scrathing an itch. But I also don’t want to want to like I do because I feel a mess. A huge, swollen, sore, gross, sweaty mess.”

You’re not sure when the tears started but by the end of your little tirade your breath is coming in hiccupping gulps and you’re sniffling as tears stream down your face. You don’t fight when Melissa tugs you to her side, accepting the handkerchief she holds out in front of you.

“You know I still find you beautiful, right?” she asks.

Your response is a snort. A very ugly, wet snort. “I’m a snotty, snivelling mess,” you grumble.

She shakes her head, shifting so you can see her face. “No, you’re beautiful and I love you.” She leans in to kiss you. It’s soft and it’s gentle until suddenly its not. She leaves you breathless, your hands clutching her shirt. “Still feel like you’re on fire?”

“All the damn time,” you hiss.

She kisses you again but can feel your hesitation. You’re holding back, and she knows it. Twisting to face you, she leans her forehead against your own. “Let me show you how beautiful you are to me.”

You hesitate still, trembling with need. Pulling back, you look into those green eyes you love so much. See the fire there. See the love. “Please,” you whisper, whimpering when she presses her lips to yours once more.

You felt you should have known she’d make you feel amazing. And not just physically. She’s constantly checking in, reassuring you. Somehow, she knows that tonight, you need her close. That you need the comfort of her lips on your own, to be able to see everything she feels written plainly on her face. It takes a little bit of figuring out, finding new ways that work, experimenting with new angles, all the while she delights in how much more sensitive you are. You take your own delight in the still being able to please her, revelling in each sound that pours from her lips, in every hitch of her breath, of how she clings to you as she comes undone.

For the first time in weeks, as you lie together afterwards, you feel settled. With Melissa pressed against your back, her hand resting against your bump you are sated and settled, as is she, and the life growing within you. “I’m sorry I didn’t just talk to you before.”

She nuzzles against the back of your neck. “You talked to me tonight.”

You cover her hand with your own, lacing your fingers together. “But I should have talked to you before, not pushed you away. That wasn’t fair on you. You’ve had to deal with all my other cravings, now you have to deal with my cravings for you too.”

You feel her smirk against your skin as she chuckles. “I watched you put lime jello in a salad the other day, believe me, this craving is way easier to handle than some of the things I’ve watched you eat recently.”

#melissa x reader #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader

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the-kipsabian · 5 months

Text

wrestling fic writers!!

i have decided to be the change i wanna see, so lets do a nice little thing for each other, as a community full of incredible and talented writers. yes this is writer specific only, but thats cause thats where the main problem of people not interacting with creative works lies in this fandom as far as i can tell and have seen people talking about it especially in the last couple of months

if you read this, please add links to your written works. it can be just a single fic youre really proud of, your writing blog, your writing tag, your ao3 account, anything where your works can be found

and if you leave your link here, PLEASE check out someone else that has left their works, and interact with them. leave them a comment, even just a kudos, REBLOG their fic, etc. interacting is the keyword i want to emphasize here, along with building a sort of a masterpost of where to find people writing in this fandom

and if you are not a writer, youre still highly encouraged to interact with this post and share it and show love to the writers in this fandom, obviously!! i think that should go without saying, but adding it in anyways

a bit more about my vision and resources and such under the read more, but thats the gist of it. happy linking and please be kind and supportive to each other!! 💜

nobody is too big or too small to add their things on this list. if you write and post anything in this fandom whatsoever, be it fics or drabbles or headcanons, any companies or any kind of ships or reader inserts or any content whatsoever no matter how 'dead dove dont eat' or hell even if its just meta, we welcome all here and nobody can say that one thing is less valid than another. just please tag your content accordingly, especially if theres content warnings, and feel free to mention what you write, who you write, any info you wish to leave that would help people before they click on your links. but even so, that should not and hopefully will not deter people from interacting, no matter what it is. someones trash is another ones treasure, i promise you

and unless the amount gets really overwhelming, im personally going to be checking out everyone that leaves something here. unless it squeaks me out, but even then, i'll spread the word. and i just wish as many people as possible will do the same, and not just use this as a potential board to only get eyes on their stuff. ofc thats also the point, but you should give as much, if not more, than you get. we need to be kind and supportive of one another (besides, from personal experience, if you show love to someone else, they are more likely to do it back than without you taking the first step, so... pay it forward)

as for resources, heres a few links that should be helpful in leaving comments and feedback. of course everyone does their own thing and no comment is too big or too small to leave, but for those who need them. if you have anything you'd like added to this list, dont hesitate to get in touch or drop it in the post yourself!!

101 comment starters

ao3 floating comment box

kudos html

dont know how to comment? easy solutions

a quick hot guide to commenting (by yours truly)

an overall guide to appreciating fanfic writers

and just in general.. leave people comments. leave them asks about their projects. just go over and gush about their work. i know it sounds embarrassing but writers love nothing more than to hear that someone likes what they are doing. if you find a fic that hasnt been updated in forever, comment on it. it might just be the spark the author needs to continue. while kudos and likes are nice, and just as valuable to some, its definitely in the words the people leave for them that matter the most. im not saying this to put pressure on anyone, its just how it is, and i feel like unless people are writers themselves, and even then sometimes, thats just hard to grasp, especially if the writer is a smaller and less popular one who doesnt get a lot of traffic in the first place

i think thats all. just be nice and considered to everyone, reblog peoples works, this post with others add ons and so forth. and if i find anyone talking shit here or at other writers for something they share, you'll be blocked and im probably taking your kneecaps. be fucking nice. we are all struggling here and we need to stick together

happy sharing and commenting 💜💜

#wrestling fanfiction #wrestling fic #aew fanfic #aew fanfiction #wwe fanfiction #wwe fanfic #i hope this make some sort of coherent sense #despite being a writer im really bad at words lmao #i also dont know what to tag this with without clogging main tags so im going to trust moots to get this going first #just. this is a topic im passionate about. i love writing i love writers and having seen the wrestling fandom as of late really struggling #with this. we need to do something. even a little bit helps. actually get people leaving feedback and commenting again #supporting each other. we can do this together #dont let dreams be dreams lets fucking do this #just be nice and help each other out #im gonna stop now before i get overly emotional. if theres any questions let me know tho i think i got the main parts pretty clear here #again moots. im trusting you to get this started. im not gonna add my own shit here immediately this isnt about me #this is about the community as a whole #i also hope nobody is afraid of adding themselves here. you are all valid and worth the attention no matter what #just remember to also give if you leave something here. look at the previous links. look in the notes to find more people #okay thats it i need to make dinner now #lets just be kind and support one another. promise me that 💜#night is an absolute mess on main

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garfunklefield · 3 months

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can you write fem reader x geto fluff (or smut if you want) about going to the beach

Lime Lemonade

Fem!reader/Suguru Geto Warnings: fluff, crack, this is not serious, the reader IS babysitting Gojo, they're in college maybe 1st or 2nd year? Gojo is a gay twink who is 5'4 SORRY, Geto is definitely canon height, Suguru has a tattoo, beach house, drinking and smoking, cuddling by a fire, love confession, mutual pining Word count: 3139 DESC: Satoru Gojo your rich classmate invites you out to his beach house!!

I actually love this so much and I've definitely taken inspiration from another fic which I can't find but if anyone knows or suspects comment and I'll gladly give the credit!

Link to my Ko-fi to support me!

Requests and ASKS are open!

You made Suguru so unbelievably nervous. The way you bit your pencil as you stared at the whiteboard deep in thought. Or how your eyes always lit up when someone asked you about your interests. It made his heart flutter. You were one of the most perfect girls he had ever met even if you didn’t think so. You had soft hair and kind eyes. He didn’t want to admit that he also liked you for other reasons. He’s a guy okay?? And sometimes they stare!! Suguru hated himself for looking over your body when you got up to sharpen your pencil. You didn’t wear very tight or revealing things, but he still found himself looking at your big hips and stomach as it peaked out through your top.

That morning he was hanging out with his true best friend, Satoru. They had known each other since elementary school and frankly, they were attached by the hip. So it wasn’t a surprise to Suguru when his friend mentioned the fact he’d have a beach house all to himself for a whole week out of their summer vacation.

“You have to come!” Satoru threw his head back, with a blunt hanging from his bottom lip, “I don’t wanna go alone Suguruuuuuuu,” he called, glancing over to see an annoyed look from his best friend.

“I’ll go, just who exactly would be going with us?” He raised an eyebrow. Satoru sat up and pulled the blunt from his lips, exhaling the cannabis smoke in the direction of Suguru.

The raven-haired male frowned and used his hand to fan away the excess smoke as Satoru answered, “Me, you, her.” And his heart dropped. Satoru invited … you? You! Of all people! He knew exactly how you made him feel and he knew how Suguru thought about you. He knew all of the perverted and wholesome details of his infatuation with you.

“Toru, you can’t be serious,” Suguru frowned.

He laughed, taking a slow inhale before speaking, “You need to get over this BS and confess already. I don’t want to keep having to hear you complain about boners in class,” Satoru shrugged, pushing his circular sunglasses up on the bridge of his nose.

Suguru blinked a few times, going to protest. But he couldn’t. He wanted you to come. He wanted to see you in a bathing suit and watch as the water made your breasts shine in the sun. He wanted to see your hair wet and clinging to the back of your neck. He wanted to see your stomach and your ass and your hips and -god- your thighs.

“See! You’ll confess, I’ll cheer, then you two go up and do straight people sex…” Satoru thought for a moment, “Butt stuff? You don’t wanna make her pregnant.” And with that Geto promptly smacked him upside the head.

Suguru arrived at the beach house before you, thankfully. He sat on the floor of the main corridor with his best friend, beer in hand, as they both waited for you. The air conditioning was on full blast but it still wasn’t enough. Satoru had already stripped since he had no sense of boundaries, into his boxers. But Suguru was terrified to show any more skin than necessary in front of you. In swimming shorts was one thing, but his underwear? He decided he’d rather be a hot sticky mess than show off against his twinky counterpart.

You arrived an hour later, in a pretty pink sundress. It was clear you were wearing something else underneath like a bathing suit, as the dress was a bit too large for you. It hung off your body and showed off the sides of your swimsuit, which was a deep red color. Satoru jumped up and waved his arms in the air, already a bit tipsy.

“I’m so glad you made it!” He shouted, even though you were pretty much in earshot, standing right next to him.

“Yeah. You have a lovely home,” you smiled sheepishly, a bit of pink gloss shining in the sunlight from one of the windows. Suguru caught himself staring at your lips and quickly turned his attention to his cold beer.

“...What,” Satoru blinked a few times.

“You have a lovely home!” You replied a bit louder.

“I’m not gonna sleep with you!” Satoru yelled, cupping both hands over his mouth, “I’m a homosexual! I like penis!”

Your eyes widened and then you turned your attention to his best friend, furrowing your brows together, “How much has he had to drink?”

Suguru tilted his head to the side to look at the cans littering the floor. Maybe he was a little bit more than just tipsy, “A few.”

“A few too many,” you smiled, shaking your head, “I’ll be upstairs, then maybe we can go swimming?” You suggested, looking at Suguru. He looked up at you and pressed his lips together, before flashing you his signature smile. It could make anyone’s heart just melt. His head tilted to the side and his eyes closed, before he smiled gently. Then he nodded, signaling he heard you. With that, you promptly went upstairs to put your stuff down in a spare bedroom.

“Satoru,” Suguru opened his eyes after a moment and looked at his friend who was jogging over to the back door, leading to the pool, “S… where are you-” He sighed loudly, before getting up and following his friend.

“Can we go to the beach?” Satoru looked back at him and wiggled the doorknob a few times, not entirely realizing it had been locked, “The house is on the beach so it’s such an easy walk! C’mon!!!! C….MON!!!!” He started to pull at the doorknob, bracing both hands on the knob and one foot against the door.

“Satoru. It’s locked,” he sighed and grabbed his friend's shoulder. The white-haired twink looked over at him and frowned, letting Suguru unlock the door for him, “We can go to the beach, we just need to wait for her,” he motioned to the stairs with his head but it seemed to fall on deaf ears as Satoru was already outside.

“H..SATORU!” Suguru shouted, coming outside to chase after him, “Can’t you stay still for two seconds?!”

You finished getting ready, tying your hair up into a loose bun and taking off your pink sundress. Underneath was a dark red two-piece bathing suit, that tied in the back and on the sides. It was cute but revealing. But you trusted the two of them enough to wear something like this in front of them. By the time you got down to the living room, both of the boys were gone. The faint shouting and open back door left you to believe they had already made a B-line for the beach.

It was so nerve-racking being around Suguru in this way. You’d never seen him just sitting on the floor in nothing but a tattered tank top and swimsuit bottoms. Satoru, it didn’t bother you as much to see him in his boxers. He was gay after all so you didn’t see him as an option. But Suguru? He was hot beyond belief! Anyone in their right mind would want a guy like that! Not to mention the rumor going around that he was completely hung.

You shook that thought out of your head and marched outside, to see Suguru and Satoru playing in the sand in the distance. They hadn’t noticed you yet, both of them now in just their swim trunks. Satoru’s seemed to have some kind of Digimon pattern whereas Geto’s was purely dark blue. His hair was down from its usual bun, showing off the shaggy cut and … did he have a tattoo? You found yourself staring at the ink on his chest and promptly falling - and eating shit - in the sand in front of them.

Satoru turned and began to cackle loudly at seeing you sit up, spitting out clumps of sand. Suguru stared at you for a moment, before covering his mouth to laugh as well. It was a charming laugh, rather than his friend's unruly cackle. He sounded so … beautiful.

You frowned and sat back on your palms, before using your arm to wipe off the remaining sand on your cheek, “It’s not funny.”

“You’re covered!!!! Pfft!” Satoru giggled in between his roaring fits of laughter. You rolled your eyes and watched as Suguru came up behind his best friend. Two big arms wrapped around the small twink and picked him up, “HELP! SUGU PUT ME DOWN IM FRAGILLLEEEEEEE!” He whined, almost like a little girl, flailing his thin arms around for some way to get out of his best friend's arms.

You smiled and stood up, dusting off the remaining bits of sand from your chest and ass. The white-haired boy was then promptly thrown into the water, his ass sticking up in the air and his face sunken deep in the sand. Suguru looked back at you and clasped his hands together, “How are you?�� He asked, tilting his head to the side as he always did.

“I’m fine. Is Satoru going to be okay?” You asked, looking over to see Satoru unmoving in the water. His friend just shrugged and waved you off, turning to point to the horizon.

“He’ll be fine. Look at this view, though. Isn’t it beautiful?” He spoke gently, just as if he was reciting a poem. Every single word Suguru murmured was beautiful just as his face. God, he was perfect. And god you wanted to touch the dragon tattoo on his chest.

“Is that new?” You looked at him with raised eyebrows, motioning to the aforementioned tattoo.

“No-no, I’ve had it for a bit. I guess you’ve never seen me shirtless before,” he nodded, looking down at his chest. You couldn’t notice, or maybe you just didn’t want to notice, but his whole body was on fire. His cheeks were burning just from being this close to you and the fact you pointed out his tattoo? It means you were looking at his body. You were admiring him. And then you spoke to him about it. God he just wanted you to run your hands up and down his chest, giving him goosebumps.

“Yeah. I want a tattoo. I’m not sure where though,” you replied, smiling as you spoke, “I wanted a snake!” Your smile widened into a grin, creating lines against your cheeks and creases in your eyes. All the while in the background, Satoru had gotten up from the water and hacked up all the sand he swallowed. Then he scurried off to make a sandcastle, as one does after having three beers.

“Well…” Suguru looked you over in a very obvious humorous way, stupidly narrowing his eyes just to make you laugh. You giggled and covered your mouth as he continued, “It would look great on… may I?” He reached his hand out, motioning to your hip.

You didn’t notice his hands shaking from the throbbing of your heart in your eardrums. A gasp flew out from your lips and you felt your body fill with electricity. You really wanted him to touch you. You really needed him to touch you. You nodded and the raven-haired male brushed his hand on your waist, before moving his hand down your hip.

“Here… to here,” he mumbled, trailing down your hip to your mid-thigh, “A large snake with your body type would be really… um, nice.” He smiled awkwardly, laughing a bit to hide his embarrassment.

“Your hands are soft,” you spoke too soon, meaning to say something completely different than that. You stiffened when his hand began to trace small circles with his fingers against your skin, Suguru now crouched on the ground and looked up at you with big eyes.

“Oh. Am I making you uncomfortable?” A frown beckoned at his lips and he went to retract his hand, but you caught his wrist and brought it back up to your hip.

“No. Suguru… I like you…r hands. I mean- I, you know..I think you’re nice and your hands are nice- but like- I-” God talk about word vomit. Your cheeks were a bright red, burning intensely as you continued to ramble and babble about something and nothing at the same time. But you didn’t see Suguru was in the same state. His face was burning intensely, probably more so than yours. And all he could focus on was the fact that his hand was still on your hip with your hand over the top of it.

God! Be bold! He told himself. Do something!! He had spent so much time liking you, what else did he have to lose? Maybe your rambling was a clue that you actually liked him back. Maybe the way your cheeks flushed and your bottom lip jutted out was a cue that you liked him how he liked you. There was only one way for him to find out and he had to try. He had to … be bold.

“I like you,” Suguru breathed out, staring at you. His other hand wrapped around your other hip and pulled you in closer, with his chin now resting on your lower stomach. Then he pulled you closer and wrapped your legs into a hug. You gasped and put your hands into his hair, to steady yourself. My god, it was soft. His hair was softer than you could’ve imagined.

“Suguru…” You bit on your bottom lip and looked down at him. He slowly adjusted himself to rest on his knees, his head on your stomach, “You do?”

“I-” Just as he went to reply the two of you heard a loud shriek coming from the drunken man-child known as Satoru Gojo. You turned your head to see him running towards you guys, with an angry crab following him.

“HELPHELPHELP HE’S GONNA GET MEEEEEE!” He screamed, waving his arms around and hopping as if he was going mad.

Suguru sighed and stood up, leaving you to deal with his best friend. You couldn’t help but stare at him as he picked him up with ease, with your head ringing. He liked you? He liked you… Suguru Geto liked you.

A few hours had passed since he almost … well basically confessed to you. You sat down by a bonfire a now somewhat sober Satoru had made, with the help of a very sober Suguru. You stared deep into the flame as the world began to turn dark. The sky was a shade of pink, turning orange, and then yellow. The rest of the blue had disappeared and turned purple-ish pink. Hues you loved and adored. It made Satoru’s hair and eyes practically glow (even though let’s be honest it was lowkey kind of creepy). And it made Suguru look sculpted. He looked like a statue as he sat across from you, with the bonfire in between.

His face looked solemn. You two hadn’t had a chance to speak alone since Satoru came screaming from a crab. You weren’t even sure how to speak to him now. You weren’t uncomfortable, you were nervous. You wanted his touch again, you wanted his embrace, and you wanted to hear his voice. But he hadn’t spoken in a bit, and neither had you. Instead, Satoru’s voice filled the air as he sang to himself.

“Guys, you wanna watch something inside?” He asked, taking a sip of some drink concoction he had made in his big kitchen. You shook your head and instead motioned to the fire, signaling you were too cold and too entranced. It was beautiful how it danced in contrast to the world around it. And especially the man behind it. The fire lit up Suguru’s features and made him look utterly marbled.

“I’ll keep her company. I can join you in a bit, Satoru,” Suguru looked over at him, smiling small as he spoke. He looked tired. You just wanted to run your hand along his cheek and smooth out those wrinkles beneath your fingertips.

Satoru shrugged and said his goodbyes, before frolicking off to the house. You watched him walk away and turned your attention back to the fire, to see Suguru was gone. A frown pulled at your lips and you felt the weight shift in the couch you were seated at. He sat beside you, watching the fire with a tired expression.

“I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable. I can see it in your face,” he spoke gently, leaning his elbows against his knees. The towel wrapped around your shoulders tightened as you tensed. You weren’t uncomfortable in the slightest. But you guessed the nerves had to have been confused for an uncomfortable aura in his eyes.

“I’m not uncomfortable,” you mumbled, looking at him. His face stayed the same as you continued, “I like you. And your hands. And your face. And… your tattoo,” your voice trailed off, and as did your eyes, to the fire.

A large arm wrapped around your shoulders and gently pulled you toward Suguru’s side. He let out a breath and out came a faint chuckle. It looked as though a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He didn’t make you uncomfortable and he didn’t fuck this up. He still had a chance with you. That’s all that mattered to him, was being able to love you.

“Does this mean we’re going out now?” He raised an eyebrow, not taking his eyes away from the embers flicking out from the flame onto the concrete.

You nodded, leaning your head against his shoulder blade, letting it fall to rest against his neck. He tensed for a moment, but then leaned his head against your own, taking in your scent. You smelt like the sea, mixed with your perfume. It was vanilla, or maybe candy-scented? It reminded him of cotton candy and the color pink, just like the sunset that was fading in the distance. Suguru didn’t smell too bad himself, a mix of husky cologne and salt water.

One of your hands trailed from your lap to his chest, your head turning to watch as one finger traced the tattoo. Just as you wanted. You just wanted to feel the ink underneath your fingertips and see him tremble. Suguru froze and leaned into your touch, seeking the warmth and pleasure only you could give him at that moment. This was more intimate than kissing, than sex. Just the act of touching each other in a way that made you both yearn for more. Even though, yes he wanted so badly to kiss you, this felt better.

Who knew all it took was one day and a bit of confidence for Suguru to confess to someone as beautiful as you?

#getou suguru x you #jjk suguru #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen suguru #geto suguru #jjk geto #getou x reader #geto x reader #jujutsu geto #x reader fluff #x reader #jjk x reader #gojo saturo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #garfunklefield writing

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