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cobrakaisb · 2 months

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day 'n' nite

summary: every friday night, like clockwork, the older counselors and campers waste their nights away at a party. usually you’re the one taking care of luke but tonight the roles are reversed and all the cards are laid out on the table.

word count: 3.1k

featuring: drunk!reader, happy luke + reader (hence the happy luke picture in the header), them being giggly and in love, a little sad at the end (but only a teeny tiny bit)

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giggles tumble out of your mouth, filling the already loud atmosphere with your pure joy. you clutch onto katrina’s arm, pulling her flush against your side, as your cheek rests on her bicep. she laughs at you, moving her arm to support your weight.

you gasp, loudly, as her hand rests gently on your waist. “i have a boyfriend,” you snap, suddenly able to hold yourself up.

you stand, albeit a bit slowly, and move away from the girl. she does her best to hide her laughter, but fails. her laugh, however, builds up more anger in your chest, and you cross your arms.

“oh he’s your boyfriend now? i thought you two didn’t do labels,” katrina teases.

you pout at her words, answering, “well luke says that not me. everyone knows we’re together.”

“who’s together?” jade, a girl from the apollo cabin asks, sliding into the spot next to katrina.

you throw a nasty look in her direction, or what you assume is a nasty look. even in your inebriated state, you know that jade can’t be trusted. she was one of the first campers to hate on you, and she’s one of the few that continue to do so. once the novelty of hera having a demigod child wore off, most people left you to your own devices. there were still the occasional whispers and rumors, but jade and her friend group always seemed to be behind them.

“none of your business,” you snap, turning your nose up at her like a fifth grader.

she scoffs at you, “ugh whatever,” and walks away.

you smile, a satisfied look on your face as you reclaim your seat next to katrina. she’s holding onto two cups, and you’re positive that one of them belongs to you. you reach for one of them, but she pulls it away, lifting it just out of your reach.

“i think you need a break,” she says, voice soft and caring.

“no ‘m fine,” you mumble, trying to reach for the cup again but completely missing.

that’s the funniest thing in the world, and you burst into another giggling fit. katrina stares at you, a soft smile on her face. your hand comes up to cover your mouth, but your shoulders continue to shake with, now somewhat stifled, laughter. you can’t even register what’s so funny, but everything seems to have you in a giggly mood. one that only gets worse when luke walks across the way, followed by a group of boys who you know to be his friends.

“luke looks like a dragon prince,” you announce, pointing in his direction.

katrina chuckles at your words; they make no sense. you, however, think they’re the most accurate description in the world. the orange and red hues from the large fire pit, courtesy of cabin nine, illuminate his features. he’s laughing at something one of his friends said, but his eyes are still deep and serious. the white scar tracing down his cheek shines brightly in the dark, and you wonder if landon knows he hurt his king.

luke feels your eyes on him, because he turns and meets your gaze, smiling at you. you gasp as he throws you a subtle nod, like something out of a teen movie. your right hand clutches at katrina’s shirt sleeve, and you shake the material vigorously between your fingers. she looks to you, and notices the deep flush and dilated pupils.

“he’s looking at me. i think he has a crush on me. oh my gods what do i do? i know my mother’s the goddess of marriage, but i’m not ready for this,” you ramble.

katrina laughs, again. luke looks your way, again. you start to panic, again.

“relax,” katrina says, “he’s your boyfriend.”

her tone is teasing, but you don’t pick up on it. all you feel is shock. your mouth falls open, and your head swivels between the curly headed boy and your best friend.

“you’re lying,” you conclude.

katrina shakes her head, “i’m not.”

before you can refute her claims, the dragon king himself is in front of you. he slides into the empty seat on your left hand side, throwing his arm casually over your shoulder. there’s a can of something in his other hand, and he lifts it up to his mouth for a swig. you watch, with deep fascination, as his adam’s apple bobs while he swallows the liquid. when he’s done, he leans down to your ear, lips ghosting over the piercings that adorn it.

“hi,” he whispers, pulling at your golden hoop helix piercing with his teeth.

you're stunned into silence. all that you can muster is a small gasp, and you turn to katrina, wondering what you should do. she’s already staring at you, but so are these other two guys, and a girl who you barely recognize. you point to luke with your thumb, asking a silent question. katrina nods, and one of the guys, another brunette, hides his laugh behind a red solo cup.

you turn your head again, making eye contact with the cute guy next to you. you just stare at him for a while, and he holds your gaze the whole time. his right hand, you realize, is tracing circles on your exposed shoulder. the pad of his thumb is calloused and rough against your soft skin, but you like to contrast. you lean into his touch, shifting closer to him on the wooden bench.

“ouch,” you mumble, lifting up your hand.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, eyebrows furrowing in concern.

“i think i got a splinter,” you explain, holding up your palm for him to see.

he inspects your hand, and there’s absolutely nothing there, but replies, “don’t worry. i’ll take you to the infirmary tomorrow.”

you nod, and he kisses your palm, right where the supposed splinter is. his lips are soft, you think, but then why is everyone giggling? you look around, but none of the four people surrounding the two of you provide any sort of explanation.

“i know. my girlfriend makes me use this lip balm she really likes,” he says, and you’re still confused.

“huh?” you ask, head tilting.

“my girlfriend gave me this lip balm. it’s from glossy or something,” he answers, holding up the tube.

you snatch it from him, looking at the label. even drunk, you know a high quality lip balm when you see one.

“glossier! i love it there,” you exclaim.

everyone laughs again, even the boy next to you this time. you look at him, a shy smile on your face, as you unscrew the cap. you squeeze the tube, and lift the lip balm to your puckered lips. you rub them together, smacking them a couple times. luke doesn’t take his eyes off you; you don’t take your eyes off him.

there’s relatively no distance between you two now, but you can’t bring yourself to care. luke doesn’t seem to mind either as he shifts his arm and way that pulls your body even closer to his. the little space that remained is gone, and your thighs are pressed together. you want to be touching him in some way, and lift your left leg to drape over his right one. you nudge his left calf with your converse, gaining his attention. you giggle at that, stifling your laughs with his shoulder.

“she’s gone,” he observes.

“oh i know,” katrina answers.

“you smell so good,” you say, adjusting your head so that your cheek rests against him, and your eyes meet his.

the two boys, the ones who you can’t recognize at the moment, burst out laughing. your eyebrows furrowed at that, a soft huff escaping you as you cross your arms and lean further into luke. you close your eyes for a minute, basking in his warm presence and the smoky undertones emitting from his shirt.

“how many drinks have you had?” he asks, large hand rubbing up and down your back.

“two,” you answer confidently, holding up two fingers.

katrina scoffs, “try three cups of jungle juice and whatever else at the pregame.”

“you pregamed?” luke asks, voice low against your ear.

“mhm. cause what if they didn’t have any drinks i liked?” you reply, holding your hands up in defense.

he chuckles at your words, humming in agreement as he kisses your forehead. that action, for some reason, registers as oddly intimate in your mind, and so you’re pushing him away. in your drunken state, you can't comprehend that he’s your boyfriend.

“i shouldn’t be doing this. katrina says i have a boyfriend,” you slur, shaking your head.

“no, you said you have a boyfriend,” katrina replies.

“well either way!” you yell, throwing your hands up in exasperation.

“isn’t he your boyfriend?” one of the boys asks, pointing to luke.

“he can’t be. he’s too hot,” you answer confidently.

everyone laughs at that, except for you and luke. luke’s cheeks are flushed red, but he looks at you with nothing but love and adoration in his eyes. he smiles at you, gently shaking his head in disbelief.

you shrink back into yourself, slouching down in his arms so that the back of your head rests against his shoulder. luke’s hand fiddles with the hem of your jeans, fingers ghosting over your hips, and you squirm. you shove his hand away, covering your face with your own.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, bending down so only you can hear him.

“i embarrassed myself,” you whine, peeking at him through a gap in your fingers.

luke chuckles, “it’s okay baby. i still love you.”

you light up at his words, wrapping your arms around his neck. you pull his face down to yours, smacking kisses all over, only stopping to giggle from pure, unfiltered happiness. normally, you save the affection for the private confines of your cabins, but all of your reservations are out the window at the moment.

luke smiles brightly at your actions, dimples and everything, as he squeezes your hips three times. it’s your silent code, an unspoken way for the two of you to communicate your love and appreciation for one another, and you smile happily at his use of it. you hug him again, burying your face into the crook of his neck. you can tell that he’s been smoking, and maybe that’s why his eyes are a little red-rimmed. you don’t mind, however, and opt to keep your head resting there. his arms wrap securely around you, cradling your body the way someone would hold a toddler.

“tired?” he asks, rubbing a hand down your back.

you want to say no, but the giant yawn betrays you.

“c’mon, i’ll bring you to bed,” he says, patting your thigh to signal for you to get up.

you agree, holding out your hand for him to take. once your fingers are safely stowed away in his palm, you walk up to katrina.

“goodnight tree,” you mumble, hugging her tightly.

“g’night,” she replies, squeezing you just as tight.

with that, you let luke lead you towards the hera cabin as you focus on not tripping over your own feet. you stumble on the stairs, and luke squeezes your waist, holding you steady. he’s your rock, and you don’t know what you’d do without him.

he opens the door, waiting for you to enter the cabin before following. you look around, and your eyes land on the giant statue taking up a majority of the room. you gasp, hands covering your mouth, as you meet your mother’s cold and calculating stare.

“i don’t think she should be seeing me like this. can we go to your cabin?” you ask, turning to face luke.

“it’s a statue,” luke deadpans, shaking his head.

“but she’s all knowing,” you reply, pointing to the marble goddess.

“you’re gonna be fine,” luke explains softly.

you’re eyes are wide, and you continuously shake your head no. you grab onto luke’s hand, intertwining your fingers together. his hand is rough and worn from all the training he does, a testament to how long he’s been at camp. your mind wanders back to his position as king of the dragons, and you want to ask him if his hands are scarred from the claws of a rival. yet, it doesn’t seem appropriate, so you keep your mouth shut.

“where’s you toiletry bag?” luke ask, letting go of you hand as he wanders around the cabin.

“i don’t know,” you answer, following him towards the area you’ve deemed your bed.

he huffs, standing back from the bed to monitor the situation. his hands are on his hips, eyes scanning the area for your bag with makeup remover, skincare, and other bathroom necessities. you find the pose extremely comical, and laugh. he looks at you over his shoulder, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“what’s so funny?” he asks.

“you look like my dad,” you wheeze.

he pauses, mouth agape like a fish out of water. he opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, but ultimately comes up empty handed. just when it seems like he’s about to say something, you’re bounding over to your bedside table, grabbing a bag that’s clearly overloaded.

“found it!” you shout.

luke cringes at the volume, but takes the bag from your hands without further questioning. he marches over to your closet, the one he helped you set up, and grabs a small towel from one of the shelves. you smile at him. he’s so endearing, you think, how’d i get so lucky?

“let’s go to the bathroom,” he says, tilting his head towards the door of your cabin.

you nod in agreement, taking his outstretched hand. luke smiles at you, allowing you to lead the way, despite your drunken state. he admires your beauty in the moment, although he knows you’d argue you’re anything but. your makeup is messy, your cheeks are flushed from all the alcohol, and your top is falling off your shoulder, yet he still believes that you can rival aphrodite. he shouldn’t think that, he realizes, as she’s one of the only gods he still prays to, but he does.

the two of you enter the bathroom, and you're surprised by how empty it is. however, the peace and quiet is nice for a usually chaotic space. you decide on a mirror and sink in the middle of the collection, and turn to face luke, waiting for his approval. when he sets the bag down, and removes the towel from his shoulder, you know you’ve made a good choice.

“alright, let’s take your makeup off,” he says, patting the small of your back.

you fumble with the zipper of your pouch, trying and failing to get the bag opened. you pout, holding it out to luke, with a pleading look in your eyes.

“i’ll help you. you want to sit on the counter?” he asks.

you nod, and turn around so your back is towards the sink and mirrors. you brace yourself, ready to test your physical strength in your drunken state. you fail the first attempt, not even making it onto the ledge. luke watches, amusement clear in his eyes, because it’s not like you to ask for help.

“need a hand?”

“no i can do it! i’m a demigod,” you answer, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

he chuckles at your response, but goes back to digging through your bag for the cotton pads and micellar water. he also takes out your face wash, moisturizer, toothbrush, toothpaste, and other skin care items he thinks you might need.

“luke,” you whisper, tugging on his sleeve.

he hums in acknowledgment, turning away from the array of products to face you.

“help?” you ask with a shy smile.

“i thought you didn’t need it, cause your a demigod,” he teases, crossing his arms.

you’re drawn to his muscles, flexing against his tee and you’re temporarily left speechless. he’s just so hot, you think.

“gods i hope my mom answers my prayers,” you blurt out.

“about what?”

“us getting married. i really want to. i think…if we were in vegas, i’d drag you down to the chapel,” you reply.

luke’s mouth drops open in shock, “you think about marrying me?”

“nonstop,” you answer, finally climbing onto the counter.

he stands there for a minute, unsure of what to say or do. all he knows is that he thinks about getting married to you too. he envisions you, regal as ever, like the true daughter of the queen of the gods, walking towards him down an aisle. it’d be small. you, him, and a handful of close friends, but every single part of it would be meaningful.

“let’s get you ready for bed,” he says, changing the conversation.

“okay!”

it takes him much longer than usual to get you through your bedtime routine, but he doesn’t mind if you don’t. and, you seem pretty content right now. you’re smiling and giggling, making goofy faces at him in the mirror with toothpaste smeared on your chin and a fluffy headband keeping your hair at bay. the whole scene feels oddly domestic, especially when he takes your towel and gently wipes the corners of your mouth. it’s serene. it’s perfect.

“you’re perfect y’know that?” he asks, looking at you earnestly.

you flush, turning away from him.

“stop.”

“‘m not lying! you’re perfect for me,” he whispers, cupping your cheeks.

you pucker your lips, and luke lays a gentle kiss on them. you burst into giggles, engulfing him in a hug.

“i want to change. come back to my cabin? please?”

he agrees, following you to the end of the earth. it was an easy request, nothing too extraordinary.

“let me get my pajamas, and then i’ll be right back, okay?” he mumbles, kissing your forehead before leaving you alone with the eternal glow of hera’s flames.

by the time he gets back, you're standing in one of his tee shirts and a pair of sleep shorts. he’s just wearing a tank top and flannel pants, put he comes up behind you to wrap you in his arms. you away for a minute, dancing to a song only you two can hear. then, you wiggle out of his grasp, climb into bed, and pull the covers up to your chin.

“come lie with me,” you beg, patting the spot next to you.

he wraps you up on his arms, pulling you flush against his chest. once your breaths even out, he sneaks out of the bed, waiting just a second to make sure you don’t wake up. quietly, he pulls the candy out of his pocket — two blue raspberry jolly ranchers.

“please hera, let me marry her. aphrodite, keep her by my side, whatever it takes. please.”

and for the first time in a long time, luke castellan makes a genuine offering.

taglist: @percabethlvr @iwantahockeyhimbo @hottiewifeyyyy @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @maraschinocherry3 @used2beeeeee @harrysnovia @cami-is-reading @mxtokko @cxcilla @obxstiles

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan pjo #all american bitch series #cobrakaisb writing

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dumbseee · 1 year

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insecurity.

f1 au/fic: in which, lando and y/n have been dating for a few months, but fans are still talking about y/n’s past relationship. making lando feel insecure and questioning y/n’s feelings for him.

lando norris x singer!reader

(fc: jess alexander)

note: english isn’t my first language so excuse me for the mistakes this might have xx ALSO it’s the first time that i’m actually writing something so i hope it’s not too bad lmao. thank you for reading my aus btw <3

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, danielricciardo and 2 799 009 others.

y/n: happy birthday to my sun, you’re such a beautiful soul, i’m so proud to call you mine. i love you to the moon and back and promise to always love you.

landonorris: i love you more baby

danielricciardo: we’re at practice and he’s crying btw

fan1: they’re so absjdkdoldel

fan2: mama y papa

fan3: he always smile so brightly when he’s looking at her :(

fan4: i’m sorry but i can’t help but think about y/n’s ex… on the same day last year she was posting pictures of him

fan5: @.fan4 don’t do that… it’s about lando, not her ex

fan6: am i tripping or she also used to call her ex, her « sun »??

fan7: @.fan6 WHAT

fan8: @.fan6 no she didn’t?

lando sighed and threw his phone on his bed. of course he saw all the tweets about you and your stupid ex, how could he ignore them when it was all over the internet. people were speculating about if he was a rebound or a toy for you. lando was hurt, he always thought that you were way out of his league anyways so he should’ve seen it coming, right? you were an amazing and worldwide known singer, with your angelic voice and heartbreaking lyrics. you sang with your heart which made anyone who was listening to you, fall in love immediately.

that’s what happened with lando. he was always a big fan of yours, singing your songs on top of his lungs at parties, and following every single news about you, he even went to your concerts. one day, he went viral for singing your song on the radio with his engineer, he also happened to have made it to p3, which he said was because you were his lucky charm. the video was published online and went viral, you saw it and immediately found it adorable. the rest was history.

when you guys hard launched your relationship to the world, the big majority was happy for you two, happy to see you smile and happy to see that lando managed to get his crush. but a small minority saw that relationship as a rebound for you, saying horrible things about how you never loved lando and how you would dump him in a few months to go back to your one true love, your ex.

lando saw it all. and he hated it.

"lando? are you okay?" you asked, when you went to check in on him. he was supposed to bring a few blankets so you guys could watch a movie together. but he was taking way too much time so you went to see if he was okay.

"do you love me y/n?" he asked you, and the sadness in his eyes almost made you cry. lando’s eyes was what you loved the most about him, with his smile of course, but his gorgeous green eyes were full of emotions, you could drown in them and feel every little thing he was feeling just by looking at him.

"what are you talking about? of course i love you lando." you say, taking his hand in yours and softly kissing his knuckles. you saw him close his eyes and sigh deeply. you pushed him on the bed and sat next to him. "what happened?"

"it’s stupid, don’t worry about it." he finally looked up at you and faked a smile but it didn’t fool you.

"lando. tell me." you were still holding his hand and with your free hand you started to caress his cheek. he closed his eyes again and melted against your touch.

"your fans are still talking about your past relationship and how i’m nothing but a rebound to you." he said it in such a low tone you almost didn’t hear him. but sadly you heard his words and you could feel your heart shatter at how your fans words affected him. "i know that you guys stayed together for a while, and i know that you wrote good songs about him, i listened to them all, but… if you still love him you can-…"

"lando norris." you said in a serious tone, which startled him. "how am i supposed to love anyone else when you stole my heart and refuse to give it back?" his eyes lit up a little by your words. "and i literally wrote 56 songs about how much i love you so you better listen to them all once again and never doubt my feelings for you ever again, boy."

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, charlottesiine and 6 808 009 others.

y/n: ‘you are in love’ is officially out ;) little gift from me to you sweet lan <3

maxfewtrell: lando listened to it and locked himself in the bathroom to cry

landonorris: @.maxfewtrell FAKE NEWS

danielricciardo: i wish someone would write 57 songs about me…

heidiberger_: @.danielricciardo excuse me? (great song btw y/n!)

liked by y/n.

fan1: ZKSKSLXPODOSOZ

fan2: y/n making haters eat their words with one song: queen behaviour

fan3: i hope haters will stop hating on lando now how can you say that y/n is using him as a rebound

fan4: CALL 911 IM ON THE VERGE OF DEATH

fan5: y/n writing a love song for lando on his birthday :(

fan6: i love them so much pls

fan7: that whole drama about her ex was so dumb, they broke up for a reason and y/n also wrote songs about how awful he was to her towards the end of their relationship, why do you guys want her to go back to that dog?

liked by y/n.

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 8 months

Text

Kinktober day 8 | Tate Langdon x Reader

Day 8: mommy kink

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: 18+, grinding, praising, slight degrading, overstimulation,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

‘’I like when you do that.’’

‘’Do what?’’

‘’Fix my hair when it gets in my face. Run your hand down my back when I’m laying down. Make sure I ate today,’’ he explained as you rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand as you held hands on the way home, sensing his anxiety after a long day. You had a knack for knowing exactly what he needed. ‘’Take care of me.’’

‘’I just love you. People take care of the ones they love,’’ you said simply.

Tate looked down at the sidewalk, his old converses suddenly very interesting to look at. ‘’I’ve never had anyone taking care of me before,’’ he admitted, feeling a lump of sadness settling in his stomach.

His words made your heart ache. It was rare Tate would bring up his home life, preferring to escape it than bother you with his problems, but you knew Constance never really took good care of Tate — or any of her children. She was a terrible and neglectful mother, blaming the end of her acting career on him when her failure came from herself.

You opened your mouth to say something, but closed it when you couldn’t find the words. Instead, you squeezed his hand and walked the rest of the way to your house in silence.

A few days later, you were watching a movie in your bed when your phone buzzed with a message from Tate. He hadn’t been able to come over today because Constance had invited her new boyfriend for dinner and wanted everyone to be there.

From Tate: Can I come over? I’m already outside…

Pushing your blanket off your body, you paused your movie and went downstairs, opening the door instead of texting him back.

You found him sitting on your porch with his hands covering his face, looking like he had been there for a few minutes. His eyes were a bit red, matching his sore-bitten lips. It was a stark contrast to the green of his sweater.

‘’I had an argument with my mom and her new toy,’’ Tate explained once he was in the comfort of your bedroom. He rubbed at his face, attempting to erase the traces of his emotions.

You nodded, sitting on the bed beside him. ‘’Do you want to talk about it?’’

He shook his head, not wishing to repeat what had been said. ‘’Can you just hold me? Please.’’

Without a word, you opened your arms, and Tate nestled into your embrace, giving him the love and comfort Constance failed to give her son.

‘’Whatever has been said at that dinner, just know that your mother is wrong,’’ you spoke softly after a moment, your head resting on top of his as he held you tight. ‘’You’re loved and wanted and you didn't ruin her life, okay? Not you or Addie.’’

He sniffled and nodded against your chest. ‘’I love you too.’’

After a moment, his hold loosened, slowly calming down…and undoubtedly noticing the absence of a bra through your shirt. Lucky boy. You fought a smile, having not considered your attire when you went downstairs to get the door.

‘’Do you feel comfortable like this?’’ you asked, breaking the silence.

Tate smiled smugly against your shirt, nodding. ‘’Very. They’re so soft and comfortable. I wish I could fall asleep like that at night.’’

‘’Do you want me to take my shirt off?’’ you whispered, taking him by surprise.

He nodded again, detaching himself from you so you could take off your shirt and fell back against your pillows in a more comfortable position.

When you first suggested it, you didn’t think it would take a sexual turn, but Tate’s mouth began kissing at your breasts while his hands were massaging and kneading, fingers digging into soft flesh. God, he loved your tits.

You would be lying if you said this wasn’t pleasurable. Tate was gentle and loving with his touches and kisses, savoring the moment. Your hand naturally found its way to his hair, running through his blond strands and encouraging him to keep going.

Then, you began feeling something press against your thigh.

‘’Not my fault. I can’t control what my dick does.’’

You bit back a laugh. ‘’Do you want me to take care of it?’’ Your hand wandered between your bodies to rub his hardening cock over his pants.

Tate whimpered and pushed into your touch. ‘’Please.’’

He lifted his head from your chest, his eyes still red but no longer teary, and you motioned to take your spot and lay against your pillows.

‘’Mommy’s gonna take good care of you,’’ you promised, leaning down to give him a sweet kiss. ‘’I’m gonna make you feel so good, Tate. So good you’re gonna forget about tonight.’’

That’s exactly what he needed.

With your help, Tate discarded his pants and boxers, causing his cock to slap against his stomach. It must not have felt good straining against his stiff jeans.

‘’Does that feel good, baby?’’ you asked, slowly running one finger over his sensitive length, teasing him.

He nodded, a shaky breath slipping from his lips. ‘’Y-yes.’’

You did it again, this time ending your stroke by brushing your thumb over the head.

Tate whimpered, his hips jerking upwards and causing his sweater to ride up his stomach, flashing a trail of light blond hair. You leaned down to kiss it.

‘’Such a good boy,’’ you praised, continuing to jerk him with your delicate hand.

You could jerk him off until he spilled, but you decided to have some fun and try something else. Withdrawing your hand, Tate started sitting up.

‘’Where are you going?’’ he asked, sounding alarmed.

‘’I’m not going anywhere,’’ you reassured, caressing his thigh. ‘’Don’t worry.’’

Nodding, he settled back and watched you move, licking his lips as you removed your pajama bottoms and underwear. His deep brown eyes gave your body a look over, loving everything he was seeing. The natural fall of your breasts and the reddish-mauve mark his mouth left behind, the tiny mole right below your navel that no one but him had noticed, the scar on your calf from when you shaved and accidentally cut yourself.

‘’You’re so pretty, Mommy. Can I have a kiss?’’

It was so nicely asked, you couldn’t deny him.

You swung a leg over to straddle him, your hands rubbing his hips as his thick cock rested against his stomach, hard and leaking at the tip. The sight almost made the arousal between your legs drip. Your eyes met Tate's as you rose up on your knees, but instead of sinking down on his cock, you lowered yourself on the length and grinded your slick folds along it.

He moaned from the slightest bit of friction, feeling your pussy sliding languidly along his cock.

A smirk drew across your lips, moving torturously slow.

Tate whimpered your name, his voice laced with frustration and desire.

‘’What is it, baby? Is this not what you wanted?’’ you asked coyly, the sound of your arousal mixing with his pre-cum filling the room.

You saw his eyes dart down to where your genitals were touching, rubbing together. ‘’Mommy, plea-please,’’ he whined, his cock twitching and about to burst.

You knew what he wanted, but you weren’t going to give it to him — yet.

‘’Are you close, baby?’’

He closed his eyes and gripped the sheets as his stomach spasmed. ‘’I’m gonna cum, I wanna cum.’’

‘’Don’t hold back, baby, you can cum.’’

Ropes and ropes of white cum then spilled onto Tate's smooth stomach, his climax hitting, but you didn’t stop like he thought you would. No. You decided to push his limits and tease him until he couldn’t take it, watching his hips lifting off the bed as his orgasm came again and again, ropes of cum shooting out of his cock and adding to the mess. You were surprised he could still cum like that.

‘’Can't cum anymore. So sensitive,’’ he said with tear-stained cheeks, whimpering through his orgasm and a little after it was done.

‘’You want me to stop?’’

‘’Please.’’

You caressed his cheek, wiping some of the tears. ‘’But I haven’t put it in yet...’’

—

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @marzipaanz @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @Heartsforneteyamsully @aerangi @hallecarey1 @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @Idkwhattonamethisblogs @grxnde-dwt

#tate langdon imagine #tate langdon #tate langdon x reader #tate langdon smut #kinktober #american horror story imagine #american horror story

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skylarsblue · 1 year

Text

✦Even. More. Incorrect C.o.D Quotes.✦

Y/N, pinning Soap’s arms with their thighs in sparring: Haha! Eat shit, Scotsman! Soap, struggling: FUCKIN’ ‘ELL, The hell is in your thighs?! Y/N: Pure spite and protein, bitch! --

Someone: Hey Johnny. Y/N: Oh, no, only Ghost can- Soap: Oi! Only Y/N & Ghost can pull that off, it’s Soap to you. Y/N: Yeah he- wait me too? *gaaassp* Ohhh is this what favoritism feels like?! Soap: Pfft, maybe! Y/N: I enjoy it a lot! <3

-- American!Y/N: Fuckin’ git, he’s off his rocker, that one. The entire team: … American!Y/N: *dramatically smacks their hand over their mouth* Gaz: *laughing* Was that genuine?! Y/N: AH, I’ve been conditioned! I’ve been colonized! Soap: COLONI-*WHEEZE*

-- Fem Fatal!Y/N: What th- what is this, a spy movie? You want me to infiltrate by being some eye candy?! Laswell: It’s the best option we have. Ghost: I disagree with this. Soap: Me too! This feels real nasty, I think. Fem Fatal!Y/N: *sigh* Fine, I’ll do it. God gave me these tits for a reason, might as well use’em for somethin’. Gaz: PFF-no no, don’t be funny, this is a bad situation.

-- Graves: No! You can’t, cause if you take it- …you’ll be hurting my feelings :((( Ghost: You know, I was thinking about that. And, the thing is…I really don’t care.

-- (In a ride back to base; just makin’ conversation)

Gaz: Do you find boys attractive? Or girls. That’s one what to check, if you’re not sure. Y/N: *chuckles* You think I’m not sure? Y/N: Everyone’s attractive to be honest, even if it’s just something small. Like, some people have really gorgeous hands. Y/N: I don’t know…I’m a little bit in love with everyone I meet. But I think that’s normal. Gaz: …hm, suppose that’s a fair answer…

-- Soap, laughing: You watch it or might just start fallin’ for ya, L.T! Ghost: …would you like to? Soap: Eh-…huh? Simon: Would you like to? Fall in love with me, I mean… Soap: ….well I-…well, yeah. I wouldn’t mind…if you’d let me. Simon: …I’d let you. Soap: Well then, guess that’s it then. Woo me, Si. Simon: I’ll do my best.

-- Someone: I don't need advice from a team of virgin losers. Y/N: VIRGIN LOSERS?! *grabs Price’s shoulder and motions to him aggressively* You gonna tell me you think this man doesn’t fuck for a living?! HAVE YOU SEEN HIM?! Gaz & Soap: *for the millionth time trying not to laugh* Price: *he’s not encouraging it but he does look kinda smug*

-- Gaz, on TikTok: Everyone’s always like “Kyle how’d you bag a baddie, how’d you bag that baddie bruh-“ I didn’t bag shit. Y/N picked me up from my neck, threw me over their shoulder and I’ve been on it ever since. (Zooms out to show that he is in fact, on their shoulder) Gaz: And I ain’t got no plans on getting off anytime soon-

(This also works with Soap & Ghost)

-- Y/N: Why’s it always you got mommy issues or you got daddy issues? Me personally? Both my parents got me messed up, the side I pick? Is mine. I ain’t Hannah Montana- Y/N: 🎶but I got the best of both worlds!~🎵 Ghost: *he’s laughing on the inside, I swear*

-- Ghost, on the verge of dissociating: Why be sad…when you can just be ✨g o n e✨ Soap: Si, no-

-- Graves: Punch me. In the face. Didn’t you hear me? Y/N: I always hear “punch me in the face” when you speak, but it’s usually subtext. Graves: *huff* Well I- *gets punched so hard he falls over* Y/N: ….that felt good. Ghost: I’m so proud- Price: Stop encouraging them.

-- Soap, bursting into the briefing room: Y/N got into a fight! (Insert running scene) Price: Soldier, what hap- Ghost, sliding up in front of them: Did you win? Y/N: Of course I won. Ghost: Nice. Price: STOP ENCOURAGING VIOLENCE-

-- Y/N, in a vent above a room: Soap, it’s me, the devil! Soap: *wheeze* Gaz: *trying so hard not to laugh* Y/N: I’m here to convince you to do SIN. Come with me. Steal candy from babies and from small businesses! Soap: *WHEEZE*

-- Y/N, passing by: *does that super flirty “up & down” look* Hey König…~ König: Hallo, guten morgen. Y/N: *smiles and keeps going* König, as soon as they’re gone: *deep breath* Ohmeingottohmeingott *tiny scream*

-- Ghost after being asked about his feelings on Soap: *heavy breathing* ……..nextquestion-

-- Gaz, a menace on TikTok: Batches be on the lookout for Captain Save-A-Hoe, cause he savin’ hoes. Price, minding his business: ? Y/N, dramatically “swooning” in the background: I WANNA BE SAAAAAVED *falls* Price, unaware he’s having a thirst trap made for him: ?????

-- (I think bullying Graves is funny)

Graves: Let me tell you how this is gonna work- Y/N: You ain’t gonna tell me shit. Graves: Listen!- Y/N: Suck my dick. Graves: Listen to me!- Y/N: Suck my dick. Graves: Shut up, listen to me! Y/N: Suck my dick, you fuck man. Graves: Listen!! Y/N: Suck my dick. Graves: You will be here and listen to my ord- Y/N: You’ll be here sucking my dick. Graves: Listen to me, now! Y/N: Go fuck yourself.

-- Y/N: I would rather lead my team into a pit of fire, than have them wield guns for your ignorant usurper cunt of a general. Price: *mans is so proud it’s showing in his chops*

-- Simon: Your eyes are like sapphires…jeez…ahem, that’s pretty corny though, huh? Soap, swooning: No, not at all. Anyone would like it…aha… Simon: …uh…is this- Soap: Working? Oh yeah, thoroughly wooed, sir. Simon: Good, good.

-- Price: Please tell me you didn’t drag the boys into this. Y/N: I didn’t drag Soap & Gaz into this! *insert banging on door* Price: Who is that? Y/N: I think you know.

-- Soap: I wouldn’t wish that ‘pon my worst enemy. Unless, of course, we’re talkin’ ‘bout my enemy Philip Graves. Soap: Fuck you, Phillip(/neg), you know what you did.

-- Gaz: So you have feelings for this person. Just rip the bandaid off. Y/N, with daddy issues: It’s Price. Gaz: *inhales through his teeth* Put the bandaid back on.

-- Y/N: …Ghost? You’re into Ghost? Soap: Mhm…thoughts? Y/N: And prayers, Johnny. And prayers.

-- Gaz: Are you straight? Y/N: *chokes on drink* Don’t ever fucking insult me like that ever again.

-- (Some type of escort mission or somethin’)

Price: This woman wouldn’t know how to fix a broken fingernail. Fem!Y/N: Honestly, you lot have to be the most boorish, crude, pig-headed men I’ve ever met. Price: Hey, I’ve seen the high-bred boys you’ve hung out with, princess. I’m the only man you’ve ever met.

(Insert overly intense sexual tension here)

-- König: How does that even make any- *knife sound* König: *looks down at the knife in his thigh* Did you just- *takes knife out* Did you just stab me? What is your problem?!

-- (I’m only using Alejandro cause the dude in the audio had a slight Spanish accent, mans is definitely a feminist)

Alejandro: It’s not natural for girls to fight. Fem!Y/N: Now it’s not natural for a man to be as stupid as he is tall, but mm. Here you stand! Alejandro, in love: …

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totalswag · 4 months

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can i req something about rafe and crybaby!reader whos just been very clingy and needy for him !

maybe they’re out with a few of rafe’s friends and she became all clingy and snuggling up to rafe :( he obviously knows what she needs but he told her to behave and only teases her !! ofc rafe could never neglect his baby though so it always ends with him giving her exactly what she needs while shes all overwhelmed and many sobs :( <3

want to be close to you — RAFE CAMERON

authors note thank you love for this cute request! i hope you like it and its what you hoped. this is very short and compared to what i'm used to. i'm still getting the rafe series masterlist set up too. huge thank you for 500+ followers you guys are amazing ugh.

request are closed.

summary you just want to be close to your boyfriend at a friend gathering.

warnings clingy, cursing, crying, playful teasing

Rafe, you, and a few of his buddies were drinking and catching up at a little bar in town. You spent the entire time next to Rafe, either on the phone or conversing with the other guys.

It was becoming late, and you were getting exhausted. Rafe kept his hand on your leg throughout the night, periodically guiding it up and down to keep you relaxed.

You snuggle closer to Rafe, wrapping your arms over his side and laying your head against his chest, essentially obscuring your face. You felt your body relax instantaneously, remaining precisely where it was.

Naturally you are cuddly person, especially with Rafe. So when you start to show your clingy side he knows what you want and need. He doesn't mind it, actually finds it adorable.

During a conversation with the guys, he notices your clingy side beginning to show. He smiles, pulling you closer to him and kisses the top of your head.

"Please behave yourself, babe," he taunts, poking your side jokingly, making you side-eye him.

This is the kind of stuff that irritates you when he starts taunting you about being clingy. Tears begin to gather in the corners of your eyes, and you try to blink many times to keep them from spilling down. Rafe does not mean to be harsh; in fact, he thinks it's adorable that you enjoy being near him.

"I just want to be close to you though" you pout, whining.

"I know you do baby, I think we are close enough right now" he smiles.

A huff escapes from your mouth, pulling yourself away from his body, folding your arms infant of your chest, then walking towards the bathroom to gather yourself before you start crying in a bar.

Rafe's footsteps could be heard behind you. As he got closer, you walked faster. People were staring, then returning to whatever they were doing.

"Baby, I was just joking with you," he says, holding your hand, "you know that," as you turn around to face him.

His expression falls when he notices tears gathering in your eyes. Rafe never intended to offend you or your feelings in general. He would never disregard you in any shape or form.

You move your head to the side, keeping your sad eyes away from Rafe.

"No, look at me, please," he said, lifting your chin with his pointer finger and wiping a few tears from your cheeks. "Let's go home and spend the rest of the night cuddled up under the covers watching movies with your favorite snacks," a smile spreads across your lips, and you slowly nod.

Rafe places both hands on your cheeks, caressing them gently with his thumbs before leaning in to kiss you.

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not-neverland06 · 14 days

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How About a Nuke?

Part VIII / Part IX

(Completed) Series Masterlist

Cooper Howard x fem!reader, The ghoul x fem!reader A/N: PLEASE READ, we have reached the end of their journey and I am so sad/happy/excited about it. I don’t even know how to feel honestly. I just want to thank everyone who has commented, messaged or reblogged this story. Your kind words and funny little depressed memes have been really uplifting for me. I was actually considering just giving up on this blog when I posted the first chapter. I haven’t had much inspiration lately or interaction I feel like, and you all have helped reignite that spark within me. Summary: There’s something keeping you tied to Cooper Howard, an invisible string wrapped around you both. You’ve fought against it as long as you could but he’s not gonna let you fight for much longer.

It’s been a month and the bounty on her head gets bigger everyday. Normally the compound hires privately, they don’t like going through the agencies. He figures with Sylvie dead they’re struggling to find a new leader and they’re falling apart. Or they’re just desperate for her head on a stick.

He sees her face everywhere, crudely drawn images of her varying in their accuracy. In some she has a hat like his on, in others her nose is the wrong shape, or her eyes are all wrong. No one seems to have a good grasp on who she is. Out of curiosity and a strange need to know she’s still alive, he’s asked around.

There are different rumors as to where she’s hiding out. Some think she’s taken to hiding out in the caves near Filly. Anyone with half a brain knows that the area’s overrun by irradiated bears and other mutated freaks.

There are those that say they’ve seen her wandering through the sands. Following that lead had led him nowhere. He doesn’t know where she is and it’s driving him insane. She’s like a constant itch in the back of his mind that he just can’t scratch. Days and nights are spent thinking about her and he hates it.

He’s not sure what he’d do when he does find her. Whether he’d shoot her to repay the favor or just tie her up to keep her from leaving again. He’s conflicted on how he feels about her. He’s bothered that he feels anything towards her at all. And he knows that when she shot him, she was shooting to kill.

She had no way of knowing that he would heal from that bullet. She’d watched him bleed out on the ground and left him for dead. He was impressed, as much as he wanted to be mad, he was almost proud in a way.

Throughout their tumultuous lives and times together she’d always had to be guided by him. He’d shown her the ways of whatever world they were living in. She’d relied on him and he enjoyed it. The time had to come when eventually she wouldn’t need him anymore.

It’s outside of Filly that he finds the most accurate poster of her so far. She looks like she did in their first movie together. A proper outlaw, wanted all across the Wastelands for her crimes against a bunch of sick fucks. If he could kill Sylvie again, he would. He’d kill all of them.

Not that he’s condemning them because of what the compound’s doing. He’s dabbled in organ trade before, eaten people, he’s done a lot of fucked up shit. But he draws the line at trying to hurt her. He’s the only one who should be allowed to fuck with her.

He takes the poster down and whistles softly at the price under her name. It’s enough to keep him happy for a longtime. If he never wanted to take on another bounty he wouldn’t have to. Course, he was never in this for the money. A man’s gotta have something to entertain himself with at the end of the world.

He wonders if she’s even still alive. Maybe a Deathclaw got her a day after she left him behind. He could have walked past her corpse and never even known it. He folds the poster up and slips it in his bag. He doesn’t know why he bothers keeping it. Possibly because it’s the closest thing to her that he’s got, but he doesn’t feel like lingering on that thought for long.

He tugs his hat lower on his head and heads through the tunnel leading to Filly. He’s caused a lot of issues here over the years. Usually he kills most of the people who could identify him as an instigator, but he doesn’t feel like pushing his luck today. He needs more supplies and he knows Ma June won’t sell to him if he causes a fight beforehand.

It’s louder than normal today, more people rushing around. They’re all congregating around something in the center of the marketplace. He turns to the left, heading up the stairs to try and get a better look at what’s got everyone so excited.

“They found her!” A boy shouts, fidgeting in his spot next to him. He glances at him from under his hat and the boy pales before scurrying away from him. His lips turn up in a cruel grin and he finally gets a good look at what’s happening.

She’s kneeling in the middle of the marketplace, two Knights on either side of her. He’s more surprised by the fact that she actually has picked up a hat in her time away from him.

She seems to be playing into the outlaw routine more than he thought she would.

You’re embarrassed, honestly, that you let these two idiots capture you. Them and their useless little squires.

You’ve found odd jobs through the Brotherhood when they need assistance looking for relics of the old world. Though, you’re really not sure how much use a toaster oven can be to them, but they pay good money for it.

Once your bounty was posted and they figured out who you were, though, that stopped being useful. You can’t even hunt bounties because the agencies would just grab you and turn you over to the compound.

They clearly didn’t give a shit about women, you don’t get why they’re making this whole Sylvie situation such a big deal.

You had to bribe Ma June by buying some of her junk, but eventually she’d helped you find some work in Filly. The people here are stupid enough that they don’t recognize you when they see you. Most of them are high or drunk so the only thing you have to worry about is wandering hands and not stepping in the middle of their brawls.

From the patrons of the bar you hear stories about yourself. How you slaughtered the entire compound, even the children, which is so far from the truth you can’t help but scoff. Or how you apparently slept with a ghoul and you're carrying his mutant baby.

You don’t even know where they got that one from.

They also seem to think you wander through the sands, shooting anyone who gets in your way. It’s a comfort that no one seems to have caught onto you yet. But it’s also disheartening to know that all that’s left of civilization is a bunch of psychopathic idiots.

What happened to natural selection?

You know your stint in Filly is up when two Knights walk in, their squires struggling to carry their bags behind them. You pull your hat further over your head and duck behind the bar. You try to keep your back to them and let the old man, Marley, who runs the bar deal with them.

His shaky voice is cautious as he greets them, “What are Knights doing so far out here?”

One of their distorted voices rings out through the, now quiet, bar. “We got bored. Wanted to shoot some shit.”

You roll your eyes and focus on cleaning the cup in front of you. You spit into it, not enough water to properly clean it, and scrub at it with a stained towel. Marley hums, clearly displeased with the answer. You can hear his tottering steps approaching you and wince, praying he’s not going to do what you think he is.

He tugs on your shirt with a shaky hand and you slump forward in defeat. “Deal with these jackasses,” he mutters, taking drinks over to a different table.

You pour the only alcohol the bar has into two cups and keep your head down as you approach. “Heard that a woman took over for Knight Damien.”

One of them scoffs and shakes his armored head, “What the fuck is this world coming to?” You don’t know how they’re planning on drinking their liquor with the helmets on but you’re not going to ask stupid questions. You drop the cups in front of them, but your hand slips and one of them tips over into a Knight’s lap.

“I’ve got it, sire.” Their squire lunges forward and begins vigorously scrubbing their armor. Your face curls up in distaste and you’re about to walk away when a metal hand grips your wrist.

“Holy shit, it’s her!” Oh, you’re so screwed.

They’ve got a fucking leash on you, it’s humiliating. The scarred and dirt-covered faces of the citizens of Filly surround you. They’re all leering, shouting at you and begging the Knight’s to share in the bounty. But the Knight’s aren’t listening, they’re just congratulating each other.

“What do you think they’ll give us?”

One of them shoves their squire and he goes toppling into his large bag, feet flailing in the air. “Hopefully better fucking squires. I’m getting sick of this one’s stupid face.”

The squire kneels down and shouts in a shaking voice, “I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you, sire!” God, you really hate these people. You wished they would just shoot you. Having to sit here and listen to them talk was making your brain go numb.

The Knight’s distorted laugh rings out through his helmet. The other one glances over at you, “What do you think she did? I’ve never seen the compound this pissed off.”

“I dunno. Hey!” You know he’s talking to you, that they want an answer, you really don’t care to give them one. “What’d you do?” They stare at you for a moment and then he sighs when you don’t respond. He shoves his squire towards you and the kid goes stumbling over his feet. “Make her talk.”

He nods rapidly, head bobbing up and down. “Of course, sire.” Your hands twitch to your side and you give him a wicked grin as he approaches.

He’s debating going down there and trying to help her when the first shot goes off. He doesn’t even see it happen, he just watches as one of the squires drops to the ground.

Those who don’t want to get caught in the crossfire are quick to move away from the area, hiding in their shops or shoving past him to get through the tunnel. He heads down the stairs, taking his time and trying to figure out where the shot came from.

The second squire moves towards her and his head flies back, a hole between his eyes and his brains splattering across the ground. One Knight shoves the other one and points at their dead squire’s, “Did you not take her fucking gun?”

He’s been in those suits. He remembers how it felt, the power you get from being in them. How they make you feel like a big man. He also remembers how fucking slow they could be. She’s on her feet and running for cover before they can even start to grab her.

She dives behind a stall and tugs a knife out of her boot, sawing at the ropes around her wrists. He can’t reach her before the fighting starts. Someone in the remaining crowd shouts, “Grab her! Get the bounty!” And all hell breaks loose.

Someone runs at him and he shoots them before they can grab him. Shots start going off, the Knight’s mowing down anyone who tries to swoop in on their bounty. Everyone else is shooting blindly, just trying to get rid of the competition so they can claim her bounty as their own.

He ducks under the hail fire and slides next to her as she’s reloading her gun. She glances over at him and frowns, “Didn’t I kill you?”

He hears a shout and watches as some half-feral woman charges at them. She shoots her dead and turns back to him. He gives her a wry smile, “You want to do this now, sweetheart?”

She peers over her cover and surveys the chaos going on around them. She sighs and glances back at him, “Why aren’t you dead?”

He tugs one of his specially made bullets out of his bag and loads it into his gun. He lifts himself to his knees and aims at the weak spot on the Knight’s chest plate. They both watch as blood explodes out of the neck of the power armor, the Knight’s friend cussing as he watches him die.

“Next time,” she turns to look at him, “aim for the head,” he instructs. She glares at him before making her way to Ma June’s shop. He follows, not willing to let her out of his sight again, and she ducks behind the barrels of supplies in front of the shop.

“Clearly,” she winces as the Knight’s gun starts firing off again, “I’m not making it out of here on my own.” They dive to the side as bullets rip through the barrels they’re leaning against. They’re not gonna have cover for much longer.

He grins at her, “Sounds like you’re asking me for a favor, darling.”

The sounds of screams and bodies dropping is nearly deafening. A few feet away a bullet catches a man in the throat and he drops to the ground. They watch as he chokes on his blood and tries to claw his way to safety. Steps rapidly approach them and she turns to shoot a different man, his body dropping an inch away from them.

He turns back to her and his lips turn down, “After you tried to kill me? You want my help,” he laughs at her and she glares.

Before she can speak a voice rings out above them, “I got her!” He shoots at the woman on the upper level above them, half of her leg gets blown off and she tumbles over the railing, narrowly missing the pair.

He turns back to her, “You’re asking a lot, darling.”

“You’ve fucking shot me, twice. I’m not asking you for anything.” Her lips turn down in a sneer and she looks at him like the very sight of him disgusts her. “I don't need your help. I don't need you.” She glances back over her shoulder, surveying the gore and the bullets flying around them. She checks her gun and he sees just how little ammo she has left. “I’ll handle this myself.” She snaps the chamber of her gun closed and moves to get up. He grabs her wrist and yanks her back down, ignoring the angry expression on her face.

“Look, you might not want my help, but you need it, sweetheart. Just stay here.”

You watch as Cooper runs off, his guns firing before he’s even fully standing. You only wait a second before you’re running into Ma June’s and out her back door. She shouts at you as you barrel through her shop, knocking over her displays and shelves, but you can’t waste any time getting the hell out of dodge.

You’re surprised Cooper was stupid enough to think you would actually wait for him. The Knight’s had called for an air evac out of Filly and if you stay there any longer you’ll be back in the compound before you can blink.

You’ve spent a month evading them, you’re not about to let yourself get caught because of Cooper.

You can’t believe he’s not dead. It’s not like you’ve been losing sleep over killing him, but it’s been hard to cope with the fact that you killed the man that was once the love of your life. Seeing him again, though, you wished you had shot him in his smug face.

You’d forgotten, in the time apart, just how condescending he could be. He seemed to think you needed him to survive. You didn’t.

At best, he provided the comfort of company. Poorly.

Despite how much he undervalued you, you were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. You didn’t need him to save you. You would have figured your way out of there on your own, eventually. You’ve handled yourself a month in the Wastelands without him. You learned how to carve an existence for yourself out here and you did it without help.

You race into the woods beyond Filly, putting as much distance between you and the sounds of fighting as quickly as you can. The trees around you begin to shake, the ground vibrating and a swirl of dirt and leaves rises into the air and whips you in the face.

You look up and begin pushing yourself faster. One of the Brotherhood’s Vertibird’s is circling Filly. “This is not a hostile landing! Please remain calm!” You blame your distraction on the announcement.

You would have heard him coming up behind you if you hadn’t been listening to whatever the Brotherhood was saying. Rope loops around your arms and you’re yanked backwards. Your head thumps painfully hard against the forest floor, rocks scraping you as you’re dragged across the ground.

Cooper’s face appears over yours, a cruel smile on his lips. “Now, this seems awfully familiar.” He walks around you, boots straddling your waist and grabs you by the front of your shirt, yanking you back to your feet. “I thought I told you to stay put, sweetheart.”

You frown at him, shoving your leg up between his. He groans, doubling over while you shimmy out of the loose rope. “Honestly, after all the shit that’s happened you think I’m gonna listen to anything you say?” You step back from him, brushing the dirt off your clothes as best you can.

You sigh in frustration when you realize that when the Knight’s had grabbed you, you’d lost your supplies. Cooper looks up at you and scoffs, “Missing something?” You eye his bag on the ground and start to go for it. He pulls the hammer of his gun back and you glance towards him. You’d forgotten what a quick draw he could be.

He’s fully recovered now, eyes narrowed in on you and gun pointed right at your chest. “See, a bullet to the chest might not kill me, but I reckon it’ll do a hell of a lot of damage to you. Why don’t you back up for me, sweetheart?”

You let go of his bag and slowly back away from him. He keeps his gun trained on you and stoops down, throwing his bag back over his shoulder. Your eyes dart to the hat on his head and your lips curl up when you spot the hole you’d put in it.

Two hundred years and he’s kept that hat nearly pristine, you take no small amount of pride in being the one to ruin it.

“The Brotherhood will be swarming these woods in a few minutes. They’re not gonna be too happy about one of their Knight’s being dead. Come with me, I can help you out.”

You scoff, “Like I’ll ever trust you again. You’ve shot me, sold me, and left me for dead, Cooper.”

He huffs, eyes narrowing and lips curled in a sardonic grin. You can tell he’s getting pissed off. “The choice is yours,” he tucks his gun back in his holster and turns on his heels. You watch in surprise as he stalks away from you. You had fully expected him to put up more of a fight, it almost hurts that he left so easily again.

Then you hear the sounds of orders being shouted behind you. Metal creaking and stomping through the underbrush and you realize he hadn’t left but forced you between a rock and a hard place. You could follow him or let yourself get captured by the Brotherhood.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. You risk a glance over your shoulder and spot a rapidly approaching party of squires. You run in the direction Cooper went and find him leaning casually against a tree, a satisfied look on his face when he spots you. “Don’t say a word,” you warn, shoving past him.

He glances at her from across the fire and finds himself feeling almost at ease for the first time in a month. It’s been a while since he’s looked up to actually find her staring back at him. She might look like she wants to kill him, but she’s here.

“You have to admit, we make a pretty good team, darling.”

She gives him an unimpressed look, “Yeah, Cooper, we’re so great at murdering people.” She looks over to the dead bodies of the raiders they’d stolen this camp from and shakes her head. “I forgot how much death you surround yourself with.”

“I surround myself with? Might I remind you, you fired the first shot, sweetheart.” Granted, he had shoved her out of her hiding spot and given her no choice about it.

Her head shoots up and she glares at him, “You made me!” She opens her mouth and he grins. He enjoys provoking her like this. Even if the last time he had she’d shot him because of it, but it’s fun to rile her up. She always gets so pissed off, it entertains him to no end.

To his disappointment, she closes her mouth and shakes her head, choosing not to engage with him. He sighs and rips off a piece of jerky. “When did you turn into such a wet fucking blanket?”

Her eyes flare with anger, despite that, he can hear how hurt she really is. “Maybe when you sold me!”

He tilts his head and runs his tongue over his teeth, “You ever gonna let that go? I told you it was a mistake. How was I supposed to know they were gonna breed you like a prize pig?”

She scoffs, the noise high pitched and shocked. She shakes her head and stares at him with wide eyes, “You are unbelievable.” He shrugs and takes a swig from the flask he’d stolen off one of the raiders. He’s not sure how they make their alcohol, or if they trade for it, but it’s fucking disgusting. He frowns at the flask and drains the rest of it before tossing it into the woods behind him.

She sighs and runs a hand over her face, her voice tired as she asks, “What’s the plan here, Cooper?”

He picks at his teeth and shakes his head, “With what?”

She leans against the log behind her and gestures at herself. “With me. What, are you going to wait for me to pass out so you can tie me up and send me back to the compound? I’ve seen the price on my head. I know how valuable I am to everyone in the Wastelands.”

He doesn’t know why what she’s saying bothers him so much but it does. “You really think I’d send you back there?”

Her face is devoid of anything as she responds, “Why wouldn’t you?”

It’s the bluntness with which she asks that, that bugs him. Like there’s no other possibility but him betraying her. Taking advantage of her while she was vulnerable and weak and then handing her over to the people who want her dead. He wouldn’t do that to her.

He didn’t go through all this fucking trouble to find her just to lose her again. He wants to tell her as much but she’s on her feet and grabbing her bag before he can. “Look, I appreciate the help today, but I’m not interested in starting this partnership back up again. I think it’s better if we just part ways.”

He whips his gun out before he can think about what he’s doing. She freezes, still bent over and eyes his gun warily. “I’m afraid that’s not an option, darling.” He can’t let her leave again. And maybe this isn’t the best way to go about it, but he doesn’t know how else to stop her.

“You gonna shoot me, Cooper?” She whispers, her own hand twitching for the revolver at her side. He stands up and grabs her wrists, ignoring the way she struggles against him. He binds her hands with his rope and he sits back down,

“I’m not gonna turn you in and I’m not gonna shoot you. But you’re not getting out of here that easy, sweetheart.”

Her eyes narrow in on his, her fists clenched tightly in anger. “I killed two men with my hands bound today. What’s stopping me from killing you?”

He shrugs, “Nothing. There’s nothing stopping you, just like there’s nothing stopping me. But I’m not killing you, am I? See,” he leans forward, “I’ve fought too hard and spent too much time looking after you to just let you go now. We’re in this together, whether you want it or not.”

Her lips split in a sneer and she throws herself down on the log. “You’re all the fucking same. You treat me like a goddamn dog that needs to be beat into submission. I’m not some misbehaving pet, Cooper!” Her eyes well up and her voice breaks, “You don’t get to just leash me and expect me to be okay with it.”

“I’m under no illusions that you’re happy here, sweetheart.” He runs a hand down his face and she shakes her head in disbelief.

“Then just let me go,” she’s bordering on begging now and his chest squeezes the longer she stares at him with those pleading eyes of hers. It’s not something he’s familiar with, this feeling, this longing for her to just shut the fuck up and stop making this so damn difficult for him.

“I can’t,” he mutters, wanting her to just drop it.

“Why not?” She snaps, dropping any pretenses of trying to get him to sympathize with her.

He surges forward and grabs her by the jaw. Her eyes widen in shock and he smashes their lips together, teeth clashing painfully. There’s nothing gentle or sweet about this kiss. Her teeth are ripping into his scarred lips until the taste of copper is spreading on his tongue. He groans, digging his fingers into her cheeks until her lips part.

His tongue probes against hers, the taste of his blood spreading into her mouth as well. She whimpers, the noise stirring something in him he’d forgotten about. There’s an old desire bubbling in him that’s making him blind to the rest of the world. He wants her, more than he ever wants to admit.

He’s wanted her for a long time before this and they both know it. How hard he’s fought against it, against moments like these. He didn’t think he was still capable of this feeling, this desire for her. But it’s consuming. She’s ruining him, running him in circles until he thinks he’s going insane.

But it’s not the same gentle passion it once was. It’s as twisted as he’s become. The desire to possess, consume, covet until she’s his and only his to do with what he wants. His teeth dig into her, letting her blood overcome the taste of his own. He groans, his free hand grabbing her waist and yanking her closer.

She tastes so much sweeter than he does, he wants to rip a chunk of her off and eat her whole. He’s so distracted he doesn't even notice her pulling out her gun until he’s shooting back from her. He lands roughly on the forest floor and groans, hands clutched over the bleeding hole in his gut. Pain radiates through his abdomen and he rolls onto his side.

He looks up at her in shock. She’s spitting their blood onto the ground, her bound hands wiping at her lips. “Asshole,” she mutters. She tucks her gun back in her holster and looks over at him.

His eyes are wide in disbelief as he struggles to sit back up. The movement causes another wave of pain and he hisses through gritted teeth, “You shot me!”

She rolls her eyes and gives him a blank look, “You’ll live.” He limps back to his own seat and lifts his shirt, watching as the hole closes over slowly and the blood stops leaking. She watches as he heals and sighs, “Unfortunately.” He tugs it back down and sighs at the state of his shirt.

“My shirt won’t.” He digs a finger into the hole and tugs on it, watching as it rips wider. Two hundred years he’s kept these clothes, she ruins them in a month. Un-fucking-believable.

“Sew it,” she gripes, still wiping at her mouth. “I can’t believe you just fucking kissed me,” she frowns and spits again, bits of crimson lingering on her lips.

He sighs and leans back against the tree. “Felt right in the moment.” It did, he wants to do it again. They’re even now, they’ve both shot each other twice. No reason for her to shoot again.

He wants to feel the way she shivers against him and moans into his mouth. She can be pissed all she wants but she kissed back, she can’t deny that. He’s sure if she wasn’t tied up she’d be a bit more receptive to him. Or maybe she just needs time to cool off after the whole compound incident, a month seems like a reasonable amount of time. Then again, women are so damn unreasonable.

She tugs a knife out of her boot and positions it between her knees. She places it between her wrists and saws at the rope until it falls free. She slides the knife back in her boot and tosses the ruined rope at him.

He catches it with a sigh and glances up at her. “Why didn’t you do that earlier?”

Her eyes are alight with a challenge, “I wanted to see if you would let me go yourself.” Well, clearly, he had failed her little test. “I wanted to see if there was even a possibility I could ever trust you again.”

He gives her an unimpressed look, slightly pissed off about his shirt. He never should have taught her how to shoot. If he’d known it would come back to bite him in the ass he wouldn’t have. “And?”

She gives him a disbelieving look and shakes her head. “And instead of letting me go, you kissed me.“ She throws her hands up in astonishment and glares at him. “Why the hell would you think that was a good idea?”

He smirks and revels in the way she shivers at the sight. “Well, darling, I’ve always been better with actions not words.”

“Yeah,” her voice is a challenge, eyes hard and jaw clenched tightly in frustration. He loves the sight of her all riled up. He loves it even more knowing he’s the one getting her like this. “What were you trying to tell me with that little display?”

He doesn’t answer her question, not wanting to just yet. “You liked it, didn’t you?” Her mouth snaps shut and she looks away from him. He laughs, leaning back and giving her a smug look. “You can be pissed off at me as much as you want, sweetheart,” the nickname rolls off his tongue like a taunt and she sneers at him. “But you want me just the same as you used to.”

“Do you like hurting me? Is that why you keep me around? You’ve been alone for two hundred years, Cooper. And for the majority of them you’ve harbored this hatred for me because you thought I had abandoned you just like everyone else.”

Her words strike a place deep inside him that has him on edge. She knows what she’s doing. He’s forgotten, in his time with her, that in the same way he can get under her skin, she can do it too. She knows him just as well, she’s just always been the better half of their duo. She never feels the need to stoop to the level he does. But she’s doing it now and it feels like a kick in the teeth.

“And I’m the only one that’s actually stuck by you.” She laughs, but there’s an underlying pain to it. She looks away from him and wipes at her cheeks and his fists clench within his gloves. “Is this your revenge? You think by torturing me you get back at everyone whose ever fucked you over. I’m sick of it, Cooper. I’m not gonna let you use me anymore.”

“I feel for you,” he forces the words out. He doesn’t want to tell her this. He shouldn’t have to tell her this. She should just stick with him, it’s what they’d always done, it’s how it always should be. Them, together. But she’s fighting against that, against him, so much that he doesn’t have a choice.

She’s backed him into a corner he doesn’t know how to get out of. “In a way I haven’t in a very long time. I can’t let you go. Don’t you get that, sweetheart? We’re in this together.”

She shakes her head and he sighs. “No,” she looks at him and just shakes her head again. “No, you don’t love me, Cooper, or you don’t want me at least. I’m not the same girl I was, that’s what you’re after. That idea in your head, of us together, that’s who I was. You were right, the Wastelands changes you. I can’t be her for you and I don’t want to be.”

He chuckles and she shrinks away from the sound in suspicion. “Newsflash, darling, I’m not the same man. I loved you a long time ago, sweetheart, but I’m not capable of that anymore. Not for the girl you were, anyway.”

She nodded, her arms wrapped around herself. She looked like she accepted the answer, but he could see beyond that, could see that she thought he was rejecting her. It hurt, she could hate him as much as she wanted, but that still hurt her. “Good,” she muttered, “she’s gone.”

“Well, good.” She shrank further into herself and he grinned. “You. You as you are now. That’s what I want. I don’t give a shit about who we were, the only person I’ve wanted since I’ve been out here has been you. You’re the only person I’ve met who can actually keep up with me. I don’t give a shit if anyone in this godforsaken Wasteland lives or dies, but I give a shit about you. You’re also the only one who can knock me on my ass.”

Her eyes darted to the hole in his shirt and a small grin came over her lips. “Haven’t been shot a lot, have you, cowboy?”

“No,” he chuckles again and grins at her, “I haven’t. Though, I am still pretty pissed about the hole in my hat.”

Her tone loses a bit of her playfulness and she glares at him, “You more than earned that.”

He acquiesces and holds up his hands in surrender, “Maybe.” She scoffs at that and rolls her eyes. “But I think we’re even now.”

“Barely,” she mutters, rubbing at the bruises on her wrists. She glances up at him and sighs, a surrender in her eyes. “But, it’s close enough now.”

He stands up and she eyes him warily as he throws himself down on the log next to her. He holds out a hand, “What do you say, darling, partners?”

She sighs and stares at his hand for a long time. He doesn’t mind, he leaves it there, hovering between them. He knows she’ll take it. “Deny it as much as you want but this is how it’s meant to be. You can keep fighting it or save us both some time.”

She reaches forward and tentatively wraps a hand around his, she uses it to yank him forward, their faces separated by an inch. “Shoot me again,” she whispers, “and I won’t miss the next time I knock you on your ass.”

“Oh shit,” you jump at the kickback on the rifle and nearly drop it to the ground. Cooper laughs and reaches around you, taking it from you.

“Maybe I should have started you off with something with a little less kick to it.” He props the rifle against the tree and glances over to the cans you’d been shooting at. Well, you’d gotten one out of five at least.

In all fairness this was the first time you’d ever handled a gun, you’re sure you’re doing fine for a beginner. He sucks on his teeth and looks at your targets. The serious look on his face cracks and he’s clearly trying to fight off laughing.

You shove at his shoulder, smiling, “Shut up. I’ve never used one of these things before.”

He picks the rifle back up and starts laughing now, “You mean a gun?”

You throw your arms in the air in defeat and slump into the patio chairs he’s dragged to the back of the cabin. “This is pointless, anyway.” He cocks the rifle and lifts it up to aim properly. In quick succession he knocks the remaining four cans off the fence. You roll your eyes at him, “Show off.”

He smiles and takes a seat next to you. You remain silent for a while, gazing across the yard and to the towering mountains across from his cabin. You appreciate him inviting you here. When you’d told him how overwhelmed you’d been feeling with all the new publicity you hadn’t expected him to drag you all the way out to his mountain home.

You wouldn’t have accepted if you’d known it was just going to be you and him. You’d thought he was bringing his wife and kid, too. Spending a long weekend playing house with Cooper wasn’t going to do anything in getting rid of your crush. It was just getting worse the longer you were around him.

Waking up everyday and having him be the first person to greet you was going to send you into an early grave. You swear your heart’s never beat this fast around anyone else. He seems to be the only man who's ever had you feeling this head over heels.

“I think it’s important you learn.”

You glance over at him, surprised at how serious he sounds. He’s still staring out at the mountains, but his gaze is distant. His mind is some place else. “Why?” You ask, voice quiet, afraid to spoil the moment.

He finally blinks, gaze darting down to his hands and the rifle still in them. “It’s easy for people to dismiss the war nowadays. They weren’t there, they didn’t watch as hundreds of good men and women died for them.” You frown, sometimes it’s easy to forget that he’d been fighting on the frontlines. He’s so good at being a socialite, you feel guilty that even you sometimes forget he was a soldier before he was Cooper Howard.

His voice is heavy, the tension thick around the both of you. “They seem to think the war is over. I know it’s not, it’s just going to get worse. People can bury their heads in the sand as long as they want, but when the fighting is at their front door, what are they going to do?”

You reach out, hand covering his own. He finally looks up at you and you smile. “I appreciate it, Cooper.”

His eyes quickly look at your hand before looking back at you. “For what?”

You shrug, moving closer to him and lacing your fingers with his. You shouldn’t indulge yourself like this, but you can’t help it. He seems so sad and you only want to make him feel better. You just want to take care of him, the way he takes care of you.

“For always looking out for me. You’re always there, I appreciate it. I appreciate you.”

The sad cast over his face finally breaks and he smiles at you. His hand squeezes yours once, then again and he looks back out at the mountains without saying anything else. You don’t think he needs to, that either of you needs to. Sometimes you understand each other better without words.

You’ll always be there for one another.

You eye him warily and he holds the jerky out further. “Aren’t you a little curious?” He taunts, waving the jerky around in front of your face. You know he thinks you won’t take it. That he’s just screwing with you. He’s been doing this ever since you agreed to tag along with him. Teasing you at every given opportunity.

You snatch it from his hands and rip a piece of it off. It kind of tastes like beef, if not a little sweeter. There’s also that metallic radiated tang to it. You chew it slowly, savoring the slightly caught off guard look on his face. You swallow it down, forcing your face to stay straight and not give away how disgusted you feel right now.

He chuckles, leaning back and looking at you with something that seems like appreciation. “I hope you know that was ass jerky.”

You gag now, glaring at him and tossing the rest of the jerky at his smug face. “You’re such a dick.” You take a swig from your canteen and swirl the water around your mouth. It gets rid of the taste well enough but you’re never going to get over the fact that you swallowed a part of someone’s ass.

He suddenly gets serious, swatting at your arm and motioning to the front of the store. You crouch beside him, watching as a raider walks out of the front doors. You don’t get why they chose an old movie store for their hideout, but Cooper had it on good authority that they had a decent cache of supplies inside.

The last time you’d followed him into one of these things, you’d nearly died, and then he’d sold you. You’re still not fully trusting of him. The only reason you’re with him now is because you need extra security from bounty hunters after getting booted out of Filly.

If he wasn’t such a good shot, you would have never given him a second glance. Despite how much he insists the compound was an honest mistake, you find the trust slow to come. You’ll let him take the lead on this one, you’re not confident in him having your back if things take a turn.

He moves forward and you hang back, keeping watch while he slits the guard’s throat. He lowers the body quietly to the ground and you creep behind him, following him through the doors of the store.

This group is smaller than the last one you dealt with. Only five of them with no extra guards outside. Cooper ducks behind a dust covered shelf before they can spot either of you. You go to the other side of the store, moving slowly along the edge until you have a good shot.

You take out one man and Cooper manages to hit two more before they start firing off their own guns. You dart back behind the shelf, willing to let Cooper handle the last two. But one of them dives behind the shelf and grabs at you.

Another shot goes off and his friend’s body hits the ground while he rounds the corner with you. He’s got an arm wrapped around your throat and the barrel of his gun pushing so hard into your skull you can feel an indent forming.

It wouldn’t be hard to shoot this guy, you still have your gun in your hand. Cooper seems to realize that, too, from the questioning look he gives you. You drop your gun to the floor, you want to see what he’ll do.

Maybe you’re stupid, gambling with your life like this. But you don’t feel any fear, not from the guy holding you hostage at least. You just keep your eyes locked on Cooper’s. They’re so familiar to you, yet so distant. Like a stranger you’ve known all your life.

He slowly rises from the floor, hands raised in the air in surrender. “Alright, let’s just see if we can’t talk this out like gentlemen.”

The guy holding you jerks you roughly, gun banging painfully against your temple. You wince but remain quiet. “Stay back or I’ll blow her goddamn brains out!”

Cooper’s eyes dart from your face to the guy. He huffs, frowning and pursing his lips like he’s trying to think of a way to talk himself out of this. He could leave, he’s got enough time to make it through the door before he fires at him.

Or he could help you.

It’s the only reason you let yourself get caught. If he wants your trust he’s going to have to prove it. Cooper looks at you and a grin splits across his face. It’s like he’s read your mind, from the knowing look on his face you think he might’ve.

Then again, you never really needed words to talk to each other.

With a speed that never fails to catch you off guard his hand darts under his jacket and he draws his gun. He’s shooting the man before you even get a chance to brace yourself. Your body gets dragged back slightly by the dead weight but Cooper moves forward and wraps a hand around your shirt, tugging you into him.

Your hands shoot out, bracing yourself against his chest. He peers at you from under his hat and grins, “You didn’t really think I was gonna let you go that easy did you, darling?” Your eyes dart down to his lips, you feel like you can still taste him.

The timing of his kiss might not have been appropriate, but he certainly hadn’t made it forgettable. Nothing about him was forgettable. As much as you wished he could be. You hated yourself for still letting yourself fall into his trap.

Hollywood might have once labeled you as the most seductive actress of your generation, but Cooper had you beat. He kept you coming back even when you knew you shouldn’t. He had you wrapped around him and all you wanted to do was squeeze until he let you go.

You push off of him, ignoring how much you want to pull him closer. You move towards their pile of supplies, “Let’s see what we’ve got.”

There are a few different posters set up in the old movie store that intrigue him. But the one that’s caught his attention the most is set up directly behind her. Her back is to it, so she hasn’t gotten a chance to see it yet, but it’s all he can focus on.

The Outlaw and The Sheriff

Their first movie together.

He looks at her and huffs out a laugh, she glances up at him for a moment before she begins rifling through her bag again. She looks like she walked right off the fucking poster, hat and all. She’s the spitting image of herself, but she seems so different.

Maybe it’s the eyes. The light there has changed, dimmed slightly from how it used to be. She used to seem so naive to the world, like a little lamb that just needed some guidance. Now, he wonders just how much of the world she’d seen before he found her. If maybe she had never been as innocent to it’s cruelties as he’d once assumed.

She stepped into this new role of hers just as quickly as he had. You didn’t just change that quickly without knowing already just how awful people could be.

“Sweetheart,” she looks up and he points behind her. She turns around and looks up to the poster.

She scoffs, moving to stand beside him, “I always hated how I looked in that.”

He glances over at her and shakes his head, “Probably shouldn’t show you a mirror anytime soon, then.” Her hands reach up to fiddle with the brim of her hat and she smiles, a real smile for once.

“No, I suppose not.” Her hands trace over her lips, he glances back at the poster. At that old signature of hers. She always had to have those red lips. “It’s so different,” she whispers and he knows she didn’t mean for him to hear. Her eyes glisten and he frowns.

He shouldn’t have shown her. It’s not like he enjoyed seeing those fucking Vault-Boy posters, he sure as hell hated seeing clips of himself. Why would she enjoy seeing who she used to be? Who they used to be?

Things used to be so simple. He loved her, she loved him. Now he’d fucked up so much he wasn’t sure she could ever look at him the way she used to. He didn’t want who she was before, he couldn’t handle that. This new her, well, he didn’t give her near enough credit.

But he wouldn’t hate seeing someone look at him like that again. Endless adoration and unflinching loyalty. He knew he would follow her anywhere, he’d realized that a while ago. He didn’t have anything in the Wastelands, nothing but hate and spite to keep him going all this time.

Now, he had her. He just needed her to realize that she had him just the same. She had him wrapped around her and he hated it and loved it at the same time. Hated her and loved her for it all the same.

He tugs his glove off before he reaches for her. He cups her cheek, thumb tracing over her lips before she turns towards him. His eyes meet hers and he smiles slightly at the familiarity and mystery to them. So much of her he recognizes and then there are these new parts he’s yet to discover.

He wants to discover all of her. Learn everything he can about her all over again, feed his desire to consume her entirely.

She pulls him in this time, her lips chapped and cracked. Her arms wind around his neck, yanking him closer and he tugs at her. She tastes as sweet as he remembers and it only makes him crave more. More of her, more of anything she’ll let him have.

She pulls back from him, pressing her hand against his chest, slowly backing him against the wall. He lets her ease him to the floor and she throws a leg over his lap. She settles herself above him, both her hands tightly grasping his neck, crushing their bodies together, eyes gazing intently into his own. He doesn’t know what she’s looking for in him but she seems to find it when she leans in once more.

She isn’t giving him a chance at control, she’s got a leash on him, pulling back anytime he tries to lead. He relents, following her as she slowly explores him.

He’s not sure how long this peace between them will last before one of them inevitably fucks up. But they’re stuck together now. It doesn’t matter what happens, he’s not letting her get away from him again.

She’s his, always has been, always will be. It’s been that way since before the fallout. He’s led her, guided her.

He had loved her as a different man. History always seems to repeat itself with them. As twisted as the world is, as twisted as they’ve become, they always seem to drift back together. No matter how much the both of them fight against it.

He’s giving in now, giving into her.

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout x reader #fallout tv series #how about a nuke?#cooper howard #the ghoul

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ju1cyfru1t · 9 months

Text

Y/N’s guide of an ornate box turtle mutant

fluff :)

(Rise!Mikey x reader)

gn reader, romantic leaning but can be read as platonic

In which Mikey stumbles upon your documentation on himself.

Donnie’s version Leo’s version Raph’s version

☻Subject of interest

Ornate Box turtle mutant; humanoid turtle man

Special note: subject appears to have developed several personas

☻ Diet:

Pizza, sweets (favors cupcakes), fruits, Dr.Pepper (likes to try new things; bring specimen new snacks?)

☻ Likes:

Orange, baking + cooking, stickers (reminder: buy goo gone), painting, emotional vulnerability (Donnie warns; be cautious of ‘Dr.Feelings’), horror films, romance films (subject cries?), cuddling (nts: subject holds tight), helping others (even if they don’t deserve it, not going to name any names they know who they are), Jupiter Jim (movies, comics, games)

☻ Dislikes:

Being snuck up on (will cause turtle to refuse to come out of shell), lying, seeing people sad (note: subject is concerningly good at reading emotions),

——> subject does not seem to dislike many things. subject is very, strangely optimistic.

☻ Tail language ❌leave tail alone, do not startle the subject.(will hide in shell) he is sensitive and sassy❌

twitching rapidly: threatened, scared, upset. not very common, but can soothe turtle with (gentle) shell scratches.

wagging: excited, happy, energetic. typically while talking about Jupiter Jim? and other likes? (see above) (tip: will increase w/ shell scratches)

still and loose: relaxed, sad. very rare, specimen is very energetic, only relaxed when asleep. sad turtle most soothed by being held???

——————————————————————————

Mikey smiled happily to himself, laying on his plastron in his room. He read your words carefully, really taking it in. You really have this crime-fighting silly little ninja giggling and kicking his feet.

It just felt so good knowing you cared so much about him. Not that he didn’t know before, but it’s always nice to be reminded just how much you really, truly did. Him. Not Leo, or Donnie, or Raph. Just him.

Of course Mikey had noticed you acting a little sketchy around him, and had even asked you what was up but with the same response of nothing every time. He was a little relieved this was all it was.

The guilt slowly poured into him as he realized this was probably a violation of your privacy. His curiosity got the better of him when he saw the folder in your backpack with his name on it after you left it in his room. He totally betrayed your trust!

After some very nervous thought, he knew he needed to make it up to you somehow…right?

——————————————————————————

☻Subject of interest

Ornate Box turtle mutant; humanoid turtle man

Special note: subject appears to have developed several personas. such as Dr.Delicate Touch, Dr.Feelings, and Dr.Positive. what does this mean? is this normal? Of course!

☻ Diet:

Pizza, sweets (favors cupcakes), fruits, Dr.Pepper (likes to try new things; bring specimen new snacks?) Oooh, I’ll make you a list!

☻ Likes:

Orange my life color, thank you, baking + cooking, stickers (reminder: buy goo gone) you took them off? D:, painting it’s easy when I have such a beautiful muse!, emotional vulnerability (Donnie warns; be cautious of ‘Dr.Feelings’) Whaaat? Donnie doesn’t know what he’s talking about anyway.>:( horror films, romance films (subject cries?) They’re just so sweet!, cuddling (nts: subject holds tight), helping others (even if they don’t deserve it, not going to name any names they know who they are) it’s what I do, baby! Jupiter Jim (movies, comics, games)

☻ Dislikes:

Being snuck up on (will cause turtle to refuse to come out of shell) I like when you carry me Ha ha very funny, lying, seeing people sad (note: subject is concerningly good at reading emotions), (to be continued???)

——> subject does not seem to dislike many things. subject is very, strangely optimistic. Dr.Positive will see you now!

☻ Tail language ❌leave tail alone, do not startle the subject.(will hide in shell) I can’t help it! he is sensitive Nuh uh and sassy❌

twitching rapidly: threatened, scared, upset. not very common, but can soothe turtle with (gentle) shell scratches. I agree, the subject would like that very much.

wagging: excited, happy, energetic. typically while talking about Jupiter Jim? and other likes??? (see above) (tip: will increase w/ shell scratches) Maybe you should test that hypothesis again! Just to be sure. ;D

still and loose: relaxed, sad. very rare, specimen is very energetic, only relaxed when asleep. sad turtle most pacified by being held??? Again, you should probably continue to test that theory.

Beautiful work! But, I would keep in close contact with the subject. You know, for research purposes.

Love you!

- Mikey🧡

p.s. I’m really sorry for looking through your stuff

——————————————————————————

TYSM FOR READING🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

3 DOWN 1 LEFT 🤺

(also I’m still working on requests, and they are still open)

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise mikey #tmnt michelangelo #mikey x reader #rise of the tmnt #rise michelangelo #tmnt #mikey hamato #rise mikey x reader #rottmnt #tmnt x reader #tmnt mikey #rise april #rise donnie #rise donatello #rise leo #rise raph

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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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annymation · 5 months

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Reimagining the characters in Wish

(Part 3- Star/Aster)

ITS THE MOMENT WE’VE BEEN WAITING FOR!!!

HERE COMES THE BOYYYYY!!!

Ahem… so yeah welcome to part 3

If you haven’t seen them yet, here’s the links for part 1 and part 2 where I talk about how I’d rewrite Asha and the villains respectively.

Star may be the most challenging character to reimagine since… All I have is the personality displayed on the Star we DID get, a song we all collectively headcanon as Asha x Star love song (At All Cost Demo), and my imagination… In a way that just makes things more fun too.

Now remember there’s no definitive version of this character, he never came true so there’s limitless ways we can interpret him.

Some may imagine him mute, some may imagine him as a wacky character like the genie, others may imagine him more soft spoken like the blue fairy, some may imagine him as Asha’s love interest while others may prefer them as just friends, or even have him look like her grandfather, there are no wrong answers.

So here’s how I imagine him to be like:

The Star 💫

What’s a Wishing Star?

- Before we start talking about our star boy, I think it’s important we establish what a wishing star even is, so let’s begin.

-Star is an entity from another plane of existence, a wishing star, a being whose only purpose is to listen to the wishes from mortals that can see him and other wishing stars through their night skies. They listen to the wishes from mortals and provide some guidance in subtle ways.

- A wishing star is born, or rather, gains consciousness, once someone looks to them and makes a wish from the bottom of their hearts, once the star receives their first ever wish they are no longer just a celestial body of gas, they become a new wishing star, they gain a purpose, and develop their minds just like how a human would.

- As the years pass the star becomes more wise, more equipped to help the person who wished upon them for the first time.

- For a wishing star to grow up it may take a while, that’s why most people wish upon bigger ones who are already fully developed and clever enough to know exactly how to help.

- It’s not a wishing star’s job to GRANT a wish immediately, in fact, they’re incapable of doing that, their magic can only go as far as the hope and perseverance that resides in their wishmaker’s heart.

- Things that the mortal would consider just luck could actually be the works of a wishing star putting them in the right path.

- If the person loses hope in their dream then there isn’t anything the star can do, but if they remain determined then the star can help them go far.

- So a wishing star job is to just… stay in the sky, look down upon their wishmakers, give some subtle magic intervention here and there…

-That is, when they’re wished upon at all, otherwise they just stay there doing nothing.

- However… In some rare occasions, wishing stars can do a lot more than just give a subtle magic intervention from the distance. Sometimes, when someone truly well intentioned makes a wish with all their heart… The wishing star gets the power to do some extraordinary things.

Personality

- Star, or Aster as I’ll be calling him in this rewrite, which is a non-binary name meaning “star”. I’ll be referring to them with (He/they) pronouns.

- Aster is a very young and inexperienced wishing star, in fact, counting with Asha’s wish, Star only got TWO wishes in their whole life. And he’s still working on granting that first wish he ever got 18 years ago.

(Haha I’m sure that’s not foreshadowing for something really sad)

- Because of that he’s often treated by the other stars as sort of a younger sibling or a little kid.

- I think I should just get this info out now: Aster is NOT the north star, that big, bright and iconic star we know from the Disney movies, nope, Aster is actually a small itty bitty little star that you can barely see, that kind of star you probably wouldn’t pick to wish upon, most choose the brightests and bigger ones.

- So who’s that big, bright and iconic star? Well, in the beginning of our story… That star doesn’t exist, like, it’s literally absent from the sky… After all, we're seeing that star's origin story :)

- We’ll get to that when we get to that, back to Aster tho.

- Aster is a lot different from the other wishing stars, while they’re these benevolent and wise entities, Aster is more of a naive and curious teen who’s fascinated with the world below them.

- No one wishes upon him EVER so he gets a lot of free time to just watch humans do human things and animals do animal things, and he loves it.

(He’s like Ariel and Quasimodo lmao)

- When he gets to earth he’s very excited to help Asha, showing appreciation for her wishing upon him through a lot of physical contact, often hugging her and holding her hand without him even noticing. (Asha at first is confused but she gets used to this behavior pretty quick)

- Although Aster is naive and overly excited they’re no fool, he can be very clever and creative when it’s necessary.

- He’s also not a fish out of water like Ariel when he’s on earth, they understands human customs and how things work, since he watched everything from the sky… Although nevertheless they’re delighted to see everything up close.

- He may be smart, but at first, they don’t really know how to guide Asha in the right path to make her wish come true, after all he’s a very inexperienced wishing star, and freeing a kingdom from an evil sorcerer king and queen is no easy task.

- But regardless he doesn’t let his own insecurities get to him, and remains optimistic they’ll figure it out, together.

His personality is reminiscent to Disney guys such as: Quasimodo, Peter Pan, Prince Philip (yes really, rewatch Sleeping Beauty, that boy has a lot of personality), Alladin and Hercules.

Main Traits:

- Optimistic and kind

- Naïve

- Protective

- Curious

- Energetic

- Secretly very insecure

Powers

I think it’s important to establish his abilities before we get to his backstory and all that jazz.

What he CAN’T do

Just like how Movie Asha did in her job interview, let’s get his weaknesses out of the way first.

- Sooo… don’t get mad but… Star won’t be a shapeshifter in my version. I don’t want him to feel too much like Maui or the genie. So he’ll stay in the shape of a princely looking boy the whole way through.

- He can’t teleport, would make things too easy, also there’s a plot reason I’ll explain later.

- Can’t materialize real things out of thin air, only things made of star dust so they don’t really have any utility other than to create fun visuals during music numbers or when he’s explaining stuff.

- Can’t hurt anyone, this one is VERY IMPORTANT for plot reasons I’ll talk about later on.

- Can’t make a wish come true with the snap of his fingers, he’s a star, not a genie.

Weakness: Dark Magic, hopelessness and Asha getting hurt.

What he CAN do

- Stretch and re-shape his body. He may not turn into animals but his body can regenerate and squash and stretch around (haha get it? Like the animation term), like he’s made of star dust. Have this piece of concept art as an example:

- He can Fly and make other people and objects fly too

- Unlock doors, may seem random now but I’ll explain in a minute.

- Bring plants to life, and make them grow bigger, and I mean like “make a flower the size of a house” bigger.

- Make animals talk, but the animals only keep talking IF they so desire, if that’s not something they wish for then the magic fades away with time.

- Tho he naturally understands animals and any other living thing in their own languages.

- He can feel other people’s wishes, not all the time tho, he has to make a conscious effort to see what’s that person’s deepest desire.

- His body is warm like a small sun, so he can give warm hugs… that’s a power, yes.

- Aster may not teleport, but they can move really REALLY fast

- Uncorrupt wish bubbles, I mentioned in part 2 that Magnifico twisted most the people's wishes, those wishes that are changed are called “Corrupted wishes”, Aster can change those wishes back to what they originally were.

- Create dreams, is that too much like the sandman from rise of the guardians?… Im still keeping it.

-Get inside drawings, This is just for a scene I imagine Aster shrinking and walking around inside Asha's sketch book, I think that's cute.

- Make a human disguise, I'll elaborate more on this when we get to talk about his design.

- He can grant wishes “but Anny you just said earlier he can’t—“ yes yes I know… he just grants them in his own unique way.

What gives him strength: Hopes and dreams

(Undertale reference? More likely than you think)

A wishing star purpose is to serve as a guide, that provides some magic intervention so that the wishmaker has the means to get to their goal.

As such, the stronger Asha’s hope, perseverance and passions are, the stronger and more limitless Star’s magic becomes. Like his magic abilities are charged up by Asha’s beliefs, the more she wants something, the more he can do for her.

Now, let’s talk about how Aster and other wishing stars that come to earth function, and to do that, we gotta go waaaaay back to another wish granting character in the Disney catalog.

The Blue Fairy- What can we learn from her?

- We all know the blue fairy from Pinocchio, she is in a way the closest thing we have in the Disney canon that resembles the concept of Star, so I’m considering them as both the same kind of entity, they’re both wishing stars.

(not the same character tho, and I’ll get to that soon don’t you worry)

- You would think a character we see so little about doesn’t provide a lot of context, but she actually gives us a pretty good idea about what wishing stars can and can’t do.

- First thing she says when arriving is:

“Good Geppetto, you have given so much happiness to others. You deserve to have your wish come true.”

- From that, we can interpret that wishing stars only assume a human form and help those who are truly pure of heart and have spread kindness to others. Like Asha.

- Geppetto wished for Pinocchio to be a real boy, a human boy, but the blue fairy couldn’t grant that wish, because the only one who could make himself a real boy was Pinocchio himself.

“To make Geppetto’s wish come true will be enterely up to you. Prove yourself brave, truthful and unselfish, and someday you will be a real boy"

- So, am I saying that Aster will just fly up to Asha and say “it’s all up to you to save your people… GOOD LUCK! 😊” sparkle some magic on her and leave?

- Well no although that would be funny, he’s not gonna do that, in fact, Aster will act way differently compared to the Blue Fairy.

- Although Aster can’t immediately make the people of Rosas “Have something more than this” he will do everything in his power to help Asha with anything she needs, and stay by her side the whole way through… Not at all what the Blue Fairy did.

- Lets say the Blue Fairy did exactly what a wishing star is supposed to do.

-She didn’t let herself be seen by anyone except Pinocchio and Jimminy Cricket, she only gave Pinocchio a few instructions and then left it all up to him, and even then when she went a bit beyond that to inform him that Geppetto was inside a whale she did so by sending a note… Almost like she couldn’t go back again to tell him personally… Interesting huh?

(I know the reason is because the animators would lose their minds if they had to draw that sparkly effect on her dress a third time but let’s pretend there’s more to it okay?)

- So we have her being the best role model of a wishing star… and then we have Aster...

-Doesn’t even know where to begin with helping Asha, chooses to stay on earth more than a day instead of just giving cryptic advice and leaving, was seen by multiple people aside from just Asha and Valentino, and worse of all, falls in love with his wish maker… yeah dude broke several rule… And the other stars ain’t happy about that.

- You could say the scale of Geppetto’s wish and Asha’s wish are way different, one just wants a son and the other wants to defeat two evil monarchs.

-But the stars don’t see it that way, to them every wish should be treated equally and it’s not their purpose to mingle with humans and change the course of their history.

- So you see, while the Blue Fairy could go back to the sky and then reappear anywhere she wanted… Aster won’t have that privilege.

-If he goes back to the sky he’s not coming back down, because the other stars won’t allow it, not after he broke their rules.

- Aster knows all that, because he can hear them talking to him, warning him to stop and go back to the sky… Aster keeps that information a secret from Asha for as long as they can…

- He knows after he’s done helping Asha they’ll never see each other again, but that’s fine, he’s willing to break every rule to help her…

- Oh also there’s a scene in Pinocchio where the Blue Fairy opens a lock to free Pinocchio from a cage… that’s why I said Aster can unlock doors… okay moving on to our boy backstory.

Backstory

Yup, Aster has a backstory. And it all started in one fateful night:

An elderly man was taking a walk, carrying his granddaughter in his arms, she was just a few weeks old, but he couldn’t wait to show her how beautiful the stars looked that night.

He sat with her on a thick tree branch, and even though she couldn’t understand him, he was so happy telling her the names of each constellation.

In that moment, it seemed like everything was perfect.

But then that moment ended… He heard screams, and smelled smoke.

The elderly man ran back to his home, only to find it completely engulfed in a fire.

His granddaughter was now crying in his arms as he watched some neighbors trying to put down the fire, but to no avail.

His son and daughter-in-law were in there, he lost them both in an instant, the pain he felt in that moment was immeasurable.

In that moment of sorrow all he could do was look up, between the thick smoke he saw it… a small star.

With all his heart, Sabino wished upon it

“I wish my dear granddaughter, Asha, never feel such pain and sadness as I’m feeling in this moment”

A new wishing star was born.

Those words were the first thing Aster ever heard, it took a few years for him to even know what they meant, but as Asha and him grew older, he started to understand them.

He tried his best to make Asha as happy as she could be with the little that he was allowed to do.

Sometimes giving her inspiration for her drawings, other times sending her nice dreams after a bad day.

But he felt like he was failing her, no matter what he did, Asha would still go through sad times… Specially after her grandfather passed away.

Aster treasured every happy moment that he saw Asha experience, her making new friends, getting better with her drawings, dancing during wish ceremonies. Aster would shine brighter every time she was happy.

Point is: They were connected the whole time, and Aster already knew Asha even way before she wished upon him.

To be clear he wouldn’t just stay up there looking at Asha all day, he was also interested on everything else on earth in general.

But then, we have Asha’s 18th birthday, the day she had to give away her wish.

Aster knew what was really going on in Rosas, about what happened to most of the people’s wishes, and although that also saddened the other stars they all agreed they couldn't intervene unless someone from Rosas wished for their help.

So you can imagine how happy Aster was when Asha wished upon HIM, of all the stars, she looked at him and asked for his help! What are the chances?

If you could listen to them, you’d hear all the stars collectively whisper “oh…this might not end well…” as Aster flies down to earth going "YYYYYPIIIEEEEEEE!!!"

A Star Who Wishes To Be Human

- I’ve made it very clear that Aster is different from the other stars, for the reason that he’s so young and so fascinated with life on earth.

- But there’s more than that, see, I mentioned before Aster can’t hurt anyone, and that’s not because he’s some holier-than-thou pacifist, it’s because his magic literally CAN’T hurt living beings.

- Because his magic is made of ✨hopes✨ and ✨kindness✨ and ✨everything nice✨, so even if they literally make a sword with his star dust, all it’ll do is give Magnifico some tickles.

- And Aster hates that.

- He wishes he could be more useful to Asha… wait, “wishes”?

- That’s silly, a star is not supposed to “wish” for anything, to have wants, that’s a human thing... And yet here he is wanting to protect Asha in any way possible.

- This drive to protect Asha runs even deeper than just the wish he received from her grandfather or the wish she made, Aster feels as if it's a wish that comes within him.

- Aster would question why they feels this way, is it love? Can’t be that right? A star can’t fall in love…

- The same way a star can’t taste food, or smell the flowers, or feel temperature…

- But Aster wishes they could, Aster wishes he knew what food tasted like, what was the smell of the flowers and the morning dew, but most of all… Aster wished he could feel Asha’s warmth, the same way she feels when they embraced.

- This would be Aster internal conflict for most of the movie. They’d realize that they can’t be with Asha forever, but Aster wanted to at least confess his feelings before they went to enact their plan to defeat the king and queen, that’s when we’d get “At All Cost”.

- Soooo a bit of a spoiler to this rewrite, I’m basically telling a story all out of order at this point, but here goes, Aster does become human by the end, after the king and queen are defeated, the stars realize that punishing Aster for breaking their rules wouldn’t be fair after he did so much good, and also because some of them can’t stand him so they decide “hey, let’s leave him there” and just ask him to return his magic back to the sky.

- Once Aster accepts, his magic would be turned into a brand new star, that shines brighter than all the others, because it carries all the magic that Aster accumulated by helping Asha and all of Rosas. And thus we’d get an origin story for THE wishing star.

Design

Aster has brown skin, sparkly freckles and blond hair that shines and moves almost like a candle.

He dresses up as a prince, with the classic cape we see in classic princes like in Snow White and Sleeping Beauty.

They choose that form because he recalls that Asha used to read a lot about princes that would help princesses in need, so he thinks it's fitting to at least looks like one to help Asha

"But I'm not a princess"

"I know, you're just pretty like one!"

A itty bitty detail I didn't mention until now: Aster would be hand drawn animated, while everything else would be 3D, and his animation would change as the movie progressed.

By change I mean he'd start in a very sketchy looking animation, like it's being drawn very frantically to reflect how excited he is to help Asha, but as the movie progresses he'd be drawn with more detail and with more fluid movements.

This would serve to both represent his character development, showing him becoming more mature and learning what it means to be human, and also a reference to how Disney's animation evolved over the years.

He can make a human disguise, as I mentioned earlier, but that would require him to keep his magic hidden somewhere, in this case, a round stone that holds his cape together on his chest.

Once his magic was all kept inside this stone he'd turn into a 3D animated character, however his movements wouldn't feel... quite right, like he'd be animated in a different frame-rate compared to everyone else, so you could tell he was struggling to make himself move like a human, and people would be able to tell there was something off about him.

In the end when he turned into a human for real he'd become 3D animated with the right frame-rate, and his hair would no longer be blonde, but rather brown, like his eyebrows (Tangled reference? yup)

Final Thoughts

This was DEFINITELY the hardest one to translate my thoughts into words! My gosh this took so long to write.

Don't know if you could tell but I'm very passionate about this scrapped idea of a human looking star falling in love with our protagonist, and no it's not just for the ✨aesthetic✨.

I don't think it's wise to throw a romance when writing a story just because you feel like it, a romance needs to progress both the story and the characters involved, think of it like how Naveen learned with Tiana the importance of working hard, while in turn showing her that life can also be fun. They complete each other, and I want the same for Asha and Aster.

Asha needs to learn that she shouldn't feel guilty for wishing more for herself, she worries too much about others and what others may think of her that she forgets her own self worth, and Aster shows her that she not only can wish for things for herself, but she can also accomplish anything she sets her mind to. From becoming an amazing artist that can give movement to her drawings to the leader of a rebellion against two evil monarchs, she can do it all.

Meanwhile, Aster needs to learn that what Asha's grandfather wished upon him is an impossible task, for Asha to always be happy, that's impossible, because sadness is a part of life, its a part of being human, and that's what he learns, what it means to be human, to fail, get up and try again. As a wishing star Aster always knew that humans had to fail a bunch of times before having their wishes granted but he could never imagine how hard that actually was, and Asha's perseverance even with all odds against her is what makes him love her even more.

I talked a lot about why Aster loves Asha, so I should probably mention what Asha sees in him too. Asha get's a lot of laughs from Aster's innocent reactions to natural things on earth, like how dazzled he is seeing the sun rise for the first time, how he just stops and starts chatting with animals and plants like a damn disney princess, or how he randomly starts rambling about how some constellations don't look at all like the animals they're named after "Like, seriously, why did they name that one a lynx? That's obviously a snake hehehe"

But most importantly she loves how caring he is, how he's supportive and passionate about her interests just as much as she is, and how he makes her feel safe, and in turn she wants to protect him too.

I'm honestly debating with myself how I want Aster to go about the information he has known Asha all his life, like, I imagine he'd probably want to hide the fact because he didn't want to talk about the sad tragedy that led to her grandfather wishing upon him, yes Asha knows about the fire but he doesn't want to remind her and make her sad, because remember, at first he doesn't understand that sadness is just part of life.

But then like, would he pretend to not know her? Or would he be like a ghibli character and just nonchalantly say "Oh yeah, I’ve always known you" and never elaborate on that until the story demands it?

… Great, now I just had the idea of Aster functioning like Haku from Spirited Away, like they don't remember where he knows Asha from because he forgot what their previous wish was now that he’s granting a new one, let's say stars can only remember one wish at a time, then as he gets to know her better he starts to remember what his first wish was, and things start to make more sense.

I don’t know, like that’s cute but might be a bit too complicated, y’all tell me, I’m throwing ideas and seeing what makes sense, this whole thing is me asking for feedback after all.

Honestly I think the idea of Aster knowing Asha the whole time works because it not only gives a better explanation to why a star came down from the sky to help her, but also gives more sense to the lyrics “you still amaze me after all this time” in At All Cost.

Welp, I think that's all I got, thank you so much for following along with this series, and don't worry I'm not over yet, there are a few characters to talk about before I start sharing the actual script of this rewrite.

Thank You For Reading!

#Asha be having the worst day of her life and Aster pops up like #“HI! HOW ARE YOU? SO HAPPY TO BE HERE”#wish #wish 2023 #wish star #wish asha #wish disney #wish movie #star boy #asha x star #star x asha #human star #asha wish #asha x star boy #disney #disney wish #wish rewrite #long post

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andvys · 6 months

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I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 26

Warnings: 18+, angst, alcohol consumption, weed, mentions of vomiting, mentions of sex, mentions of cunnilingus, clueless reader, jealousy

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader | Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: During a spontaneous birthday 'party', you find some things out, things that maybe should've been left unsaid.

Word count: 6k+

A/N: So, this chapter took a whole turn while I was writing it. It was supposed to head into a whole different direction but my angsty heart, had to say no to the fluffy route. @hellfire--cult thank you for helping me, you're amazingggg

series masterlist

Steve lied.

He lied again.

It’s something he hasn’t done in a while.

He promised himself to never do it again, knowing how much damage it had caused in the past, in both relationships that he had.

This lie is harmless, though. At least, he thinks that it is.

He spent the day with Robin and Dustin, they had surprised him with a homemade birthday cake that Robin had made with Chrissy’s help, it would’ve been a cute one, had Dustin not ruined it with his Star Wars decorations. Lucas and Max showed up as well, ‘surprising’ him by throwing a bunch of balloons and confetti at him.

They made him blow out the candles, before forcing him to open all the presents. Dustin’s present was not surprising, at all. A Star Wars movie collection. Lucas had given him a keychain, with a little basketball pendant. Max acted all careless as always, shrugging it off when he gave her a kind smile and a ‘thank you’, yet, she gave him one of the best presents, a collection of polaroids of him with the teens, with Robin and even you, along with new records, claiming that he needs to expand his music taste. He has yet to unwrap Robin’s presents.

They ate cake, went to the movies and the diner. And afterwards, Steve drove everyone home. Robin didn’t believe him when he said that he made plans with his parents for the evening, that they’d come home to spend his birthday with him. She was suspicious, not buying the lies he was feeding her with, Steve could tell but she had no choice but to say goodbye when he dropped her off at home, he really didn’t want her to stay longer than she had to, he wanted to be alone, by himself. So, when she begrudgingly got out of the car and gave him a sad smile, he gave her a cheerful one back, pretending to be happy when he was feeling anything but it.

He didn’t go home. He knew that his parents wouldn’t come and he couldn’t stand the thought of staying in that big house, all by himself, tonight. He drove past your street, as well, fighting the urge to go and see you.

There is only one place he knew he would find peace at. The Hideout.

Now, he is sitting here, in the corner of the bar, with a drink that he had bought with his fake ID, soon he won’t have to use it anymore. With his head hung low, he lets his mind go to places that he had avoided all day. Dark thoughts that hold nothing but heartbreak and loneliness. He doesn’t feel miserable, just really fucking sad. He has people who care about him, friends who love him, people he now considers family. And yet, he still feels lonelier than ever.

He looks around the bar, it’s not very crowded, it never is. Maybe on weekends, but never during the week. Rock music plays in the back, he hears the chatter of a group of young men by the bar, they’re laughing, throwing back drinks – they are clearly having a great time. For a while, Steve watches them. How they laugh with each other, how they all look so carefree and happy. He doesn’t even know what it feels like to feel that way anymore, to have fun and be happy without ruining everything with his actions in the matter of just a few minutes.

He sighs, leaning back in the chair, he looks down at his drink, that lately he started to find more and more comfort in.

The door opens but he doesn’t bother to look up, not caring about whoever it is that walked through the door. He is so focused on the miserable feeling inside his chest, the tearing, the longing, the yearning, the hurt.

Before his mind can react, his heart is already fluttering when he hears your voice. He raises his head, eyes finding you immediately. You’re here. You’re here with Eddie. And you look more beautiful than ever. You’re wearing a black dress and the dark denim jacket that he was cursing at, last year when he had yet to find out who it belonged to. Your hair is falling softly in waves, your lips are glowing a soft pink beneath the dim light, you’re giggling, slapping Eddie’s arm playfully when he whispers something in your ear.

His eyes soften, despite you being here with him, giggling at him, he can’t help but smile when he finally sees you again. It’s only been a few weeks since he had properly seen you, yet, it seems like forever.

When your eyes find him and your giggles die down, your smile falls and your eyes widen. He freezes. Not knowing how to react or what to do. Not only have you caught him staring, you have also caught him lying. Again. You were the first person he lied to about his birthday plans. He looks away with a blush on his cheeks, his hand grip the glass tighter, he inwardly curses himself out for coming here, tonight.

“It’s his birthday, right?” Eddie mumbles behind you.

“Yeah,” you whisper in confusion. “He told me that he would spend his birthday with his parents..”

Eddie looks away from you and back at Steve. He sits there, looking crestfallen. His shoulders are slumped, his face etched with sadness, he can see it, even from a distance. The sight of him sitting there so lonely and sad is pitiful. Eddie knows what he feels like, at this moment. His dad never cared about him, not even on his birthdays, he never even bothered to give him a call from wherever he was currently living or staying at.

But, Eddie has Wayne, he always had Wayne. Steve doesn’t. He doesn’t have anyone who looks after him. He is all by himself.

“I guess they didn’t come,” you mumble with sadness and a hint of disappointment in your voice. “They never do.”

“Robin told me that he was acting weird when he dropped her off earlier.”

Despite his dislike for him, he can’t help but feel bad for Steve. The people he wants the most, aren’t in his life.

His parents are gone.

You are gone.

Steve had changed. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, Eddie can see that he has changed for the better. That he isn’t the guy who hurt you, who left you standing on your birthday, who broke your heart and left you for someone else. He isn’t that guy anymore. Had he still been that guy, Eddie wouldn’t even bother to look at him twice and feel any ounce of pity for him but now, things are different. He is different. In a way, it scares Eddie, because he knows that he now has a chance for a second try, with you.

“Do you think he’s here by himself?”

You shrug, looking away from Steve, you turn towards Eddie, “yeah.”

You feel the little item in your pocket, the one that suddenly feels too heavy, the one you itch to reach for and give it to the one you got it for.

Eddie looks down at you, at the sadness in your eyes. For once, it doesn’t make him feel frustrated or annoyed to see you be so sad for someone who hurt you.

“No one should be alone on their birthday,” Eddie mumbles.

“Yeah,” you sigh, looking down at your hands. “But, I-I guess it’s what he wanted, he could’ve spent time with Robin.”

“He was with her before, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah.”

Eddie sighs. There is hesitation in your voice and in your eyes.

“Do you want to spend time with him?” He asks, already feeling the dread tugging in his chest, knowing that the night won’t go the way he wanted it to.

For a moment, you stare into Eddie’s brown eyes, there’s a kindness in them, kindness for him. That is something so rare.

“Uh, I’m sure he wants to be alone.”

Eddie knows you. Eddie knows what you want, right now. But, you are hesitating out of fear of upsetting him.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers, placing his finger under your chin, tilting your head up. “I won’t get angry. If you want to spend time with him tonight, we can cancel our plans and you can go be with him.” He nudges his chin into Steve’s directions. “I don’t like him but, shit, even I can’t stand the fucking kicked puppy look that he’s sporting, right now.”

You eye his face. Even through the sadness for Steve, the smile for you, you can see the slight fear in his eyes. The fear that any moment with you, will be his last one before you find your way back to Steve, before you say goodbye to a friendship that might’ve saved your life. But even through the fear, he still wants the best for you, he still wants what you want.

“I think he wants to be alone,” you repeat.

Eddie looks over your shoulder to see him staring at you.

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

You sigh, shaking your head.

“What if we all hang out together?”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think that Steve would be happy to spend time with me–”

“Please, Eddie,” you whisper, mustering up the best puppy eyes and a pout that he can never say no to. “We can just have fun together, you’ve never met drunk Steve before, he can be funny – unless he decides to break your heart but, that won’t happen to you, don’t worry,” you giggle.

He raises his brows at you, surprised that you are making a joke about that.

“You go buy us drinks and I’ll go convince him to spend time with us. We can just all get drunk together, maybe you’ll finally get along,” you shrug, giving him a sheepish smile, you place your hands on his chest, pushing him towards the bar, not taking no for an answer.

“I don’t think it’ll take much convincing,” he snorts. As though you would ever have to convince Steve to spend time with you. Eddie is certain that all it takes is a glance from you and that man is already by your side, you got Steve wrapped around your finger, just like him, and you don’t even know it.

You turn on your heel, not waiting for a response from Eddie. You make your way over to Steve, whose head is still hung low. Your heart thumps a little faster in your chest when you inch closer and closer to him. You push your hand into your pocket, reaching for the tiny bag that you had taken with you earlier when you considered dropping by his house.

You stop in front of him, taking a shaky breath as you place the small bag on the table, sliding it towards him.

“Happy birthday, Steve,” you whisper.

His wide eyes stare at the bag, the tiny jewelry pouch that clearly holds a present inside for him. His eyes soften, staring at your ringed fingers that linger next to his hand for a moment.

He looks up, slowly. Hazel eyes flashing with softness when they meet yours. You stare at him with a shy smile, sadness lingering in your pretty eyes. His heart flutters so strongly, he longs to touch you.

“Thank you,” he whispers, giving you a smile. “W-What’s that?” He asks, pointing to his present without tearing his eyes from you.

“I got you a little present. I-It’s nothing special just, I just wanted to get you something. You don’t have to open it now, just uh–”

“Y/n,” he smiles, interrupting your rambling, “you didn’t even have to get me anything but I appreciate it, I will love it.”

“You don’t even know what it is.”

“Yeah but it’s from you, so, I will love it, dolly.”

A smile appears on your face, you nod slowly, whispering a small ‘okay’. You know that Steve always loved to keep certain presents for last, so you’re not surprised to see him tucking it into the pocket of his jeans.

“Your parents didn’t come?”

He looks down, holding the glass tighter, he shakes his head, unable to bear the pitiful look on your face.

“Oh.”

“It’s okay,” he whispers before you can say ‘I'm sorry, steve.’ He doesn’t want you to pity him.

“No, it’s not. You shouldn’t be alone.”

“I-I wasn’t alone, I was with Robin all day and the kids–”

“But, now you are.”

He raises his head to look at you. And, before he can even say anything, his words get caught in his throat when he looks at you. Your eyes are glistening, not with tears and sadness, but with something else, something he cannot read. You look at him differently than you did weeks ago, not in a way that scares him or breaks him but, in a way, that only leaves him with one too many questions. He struggles to read you, to understand you. It’s like he can no longer see through you the way he could before. Nonetheless, he feels so calm and safe in your presence and he wants this moment to last forever.

“Right now, I’m not, though. You’re here.”

You smile at his words.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

When Eddie appears by your side, Steve tries not to let his smile fall.

Right. He is here too.

“Happy Birthday, man.”

To Steve’s surprise, he sees Eddie not with two but three shots in his hands, he places them all on the table. Grinning at him in a way he can’t tell whether it’s a kind one or a sarcastic one.

“Thanks,” Steve nods at him.

Eddie pulls the chair back for you, you smile at him, taking the seat across from Steve. Eddie sits down beside you, leaving Steve with a questioning look on his face as he looks between the two of you.

“W-What?”

“You think we’re gonna let you spend the night alone, Harrington?”

Steve looks at Eddie in confusion, hearing these words not from yours but from his mouth leaves him more puzzled than ever. Eddie spending time with him willingly? He purses his lips, squinting his eyes as he turns to look at you. You smile at him, shrugging. You slide one of the shots towards him.

“I mean, I thought that we could spend this night together,” you say, smiling with hope in your eyes. “Or we can leave if that’s what you–”

“No, I-I want to.”

He looks between you two, giving Eddie an awkward smile.

“Cool! Let’s drink, then.”

“Yeah, let’s drink,” he chuckles as he ditches his glass of whiskey for the shot of whatever Eddie had ordered.

“When’s the last time you got drunk?” You ask them both.

“Oh man,” Eddie mumbles, leaning back in his seat, he puts his arm on the back of your chair. “I don’t even remember, it’s been a while. What about you, sweetheart?”

“Uh, well, I had a cocktail night with the girls, a few weeks ago,” you say, giggling. “Oh, also at a party.”

You and Eddie look at each other, he instantly knows what party you are talking about when he sees the amused look on your face. He chuckles, though he instantly gets taken back that night. When you showed up with that stolen bat plushie, when you told him how much you missed him, when you told him that you wished you met him first.

Steve looks between you two, a sinking feeling in his stomach takes place. There are things you share with Eddie, things that he will never know about because he isn’t in his place anymore.

“I knew it! I knew you were lying to me, Dingus!”

Startled by the voice, all three of you snap your heads towards the angry girl walking towards the three of you with a frown on her face, pointing her finger at Steve.

Steve’s eyes widen, “I can explain.”

Something about the anger on Robin’s face and the panic in Steve’s features makes you giggle.

Robin slaps the back of his head, lightly.

“Ouch! Robin!”

“You are such a–”

“Dingus, yeah yeah, I know.”

Eddie laughs at that, smirking at Steve who throws him a glare.

“You think that’s funny, Munson?”

Eddie leans back with a satisfied grin, “actually yeah.”

Robin plops down in the seat next to Steve, still staring at him with a frown on her face.

“Why did you lie to me? Why are you here?”

Steve sighs, scratching the back of his neck as he gives her a sheepish smile.

“And what are you two doing here?” She asks, turning to look at you and Eddie.

“Came here for a couple of drinks and then we found this sad puppy,” Eddie mumbles, pointing at Steve.

Steve rolls his eyes, mumbling a few incoherent words under his breath.

“We just asked him to spend the night with us.”

Robin gives you a surprised look before her eyes move back to Eddie, who, doesn’t look as enthusiastic about this whole thing as you do.

“How did you even know I was here?”

Robin leans her elbow on the table, tilting her head at Steve, “well, I was craving some burgers and my favorite driver was apparently at a birthday dinner so I couldn’t ask him to drive me, so I walked, imagine my surprise when I saw a certain BMW standing in front of The Hideout.”

“Robin–”

“No! Don’t Robin me! Why’d you lie?”

Steve didn’t want her to feel like it’something she had to do, hang out with him, spend his birthday with him because there’s no one else for him other than her. He doesn’t want her to do anything out of pity for him.

He doesn’t feel comfortable to talk about it in front of Eddie or even you, knowing that you pity him the most. You always did and he hated it. A part of him always thought that that’s why you were with him, because you pitied him, the sad boy who was always abandoned by his own parents, because you knew he had no one else that cared about him, that loved him. So you stayed, you stayed even when you shouldn’t have.

Even now, you look at him with those big sad eyes with that look of pity in them.

“Robin,” you warn when you notice how uncomfortable he looks, how he clenches his jaw and bites his lip.

Eddie senses the tension, the looks you are giving Robin, the way she is ignoring you because she desperately wants an explanation from Steve.

“Lay off, Robin. Maybe he just wanted to get a few drinks and not deal with your annoying ass,” he says to her with a grin.

She flips him off, rolling her eyes at him.

“Just relax, here, take my shot and drink it, you need it, Robin,” you say, sliding the shot glass towards her.

She turns towards the two of you, shaking her head with squinted eyes, “you’re both pretty rude.”

“So are you, Robby.”

“Ew,” she scrunches her face up at Eddie, “don’t fucking call me Robby.”

“I’m gonna keep calling you that, if you don’t stop being so rude to sad birthday boy over there.”

Steve sighs, running his hand down his face.

“Can you just call me Steve, dude?”

You giggle at the annoyed look on his face.

Eddie grins, “okay, Steve.”

“Not like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re mocking me!” Steve exclaims.

“How am I mocking you, Steve?”

Steve scoffs, shaking his head, “see, you’re doing it again!”

“Oh my god, shut the hell up!” Robin slams her hands against the table, truly, shutting them both up. “Eddie, get me a drink.”

Both Steve and Eddie look at her as though she had grown two heads, while you giggle at her little outburst.

“That was an order.”

“Damn girl,” Eddie whistles, getting up from his chair, “you need more than one drink,” he mumbles as he walks off.

“You are both two immature idiots,” she groans, burying her hands in her hair.

“You are so mean to me,” Steve mumbles, looking at her in disbelief, “and that on my birthday!”

A smile tugs at your lips, you look between them, chuckling at the way she rolls her eyes at him.

“You know what, I really need a few drinks.”

“Wait, are we actually doing this?” Steve asks, gesturing to the shots on the table.

“What, getting drunk?”

He nods at you.

“Yeah. Just like old times, right?” You smile at him in a way you always used to.

“Just like old times.”

His eyes suddenly flash with amusement, he snorts, “do you remember my fifteenth birthday?”

Your eyes widen as a giggle falls from your lips.

“Of course I remember!”

Robin’s eyes flash with curiosity. There’s things she doesn’t know about yours and his friendship, things neither you or Steve had talked about yet.

“Wait, what happened on your fifteenth birthday?”

Your eyes light up with excitement, you lean closer to the table, looking at Steve, waiting for him to tell the story.

He chuckles at the look on your face before he turns his body towards Robin.

“We stole my dad’s super expensive wine, he was supposed to take it to some event – I got in so much trouble for that, by the way,” he says to you.

“I know, I know. Keep going, Steve.”

“Alright, so, we stole that wine bottle. We played a drinking game, kept passing that bottle back and forth until we were fucking hammered,” he says, chuckling as he thinks back to that day in his backyard. The way you giggled at anything he said, the way you danced and ran around barefoot on the grass, the way you jumped in his pool, fully clothed, the way he hugged you when you were both in the water.

“This crazy girl over there started to cannon ball into my pool–”

You giggle at the memory.

“She did it over and over again and it looked so fun so I joined her. Honestly, it was pretty fun but I had half a bottle of wine and ate a whole pizza before that.”

“Oh,” Robin scrunches her face up, already seeing where this is going.

Steve can’t even fight the smile off his lips, his eyes crinkle, his cheeks flush and he giggles, “we’re in the pool, having the best time of our lives, right? And, fifteen year old me apparently thought that it was a good idea to kiss my best friend, but I totally missed her lips and kissed her nose and she fucking laughed at me, but I wanted to try again. I lean in when I suddenly feel the urge to throw up.”

“Oh, ew! Stop!”

“He threw up in the pool, Robin!”

“That’s so disgusting!” She whines, trying to get the image of Steve puking into the pool out of her head, “you don’t have any better stories to tell?”

You and Steve can’t help but laugh harder at her reaction.

“I mean the kiss on the nose is fucking embarrassing, Steve. But throwing up in front of her afterwards?”

“I thought it was funny,” you giggle.

“What is funny?” Eddie asks when he comes back with two drinks for Robin, placing them on the table and sliding them towards her before he sits down beside you again.

“Trust me, you don’t wanna know,” Robin says with a look of disgust on her face.

“I don’t?” He asks, glancing at you and how amused you look.

“No, you really don’t.”

“Okay,” he snorts.

He glances at Steve, grinning at him, “hey dude, I got a birthday present for you.”

All three of you turn to look at Eddie in surprise, watching him in curiosity when he raises his hand, reaching for something in the pocket of his dark flannel. He picks out a joint, tossing it at Steve who catches it with one hand.

He laughs at that, raising one brow, giving Eddie a smile, “I do appreciate this, it’s kind of expensive nowadays.”

“Is it expensive?” You ask, turning to Eddie, “you always give me some for free.”

Eddie’s lips curl into a smile, he lifts his hand towards your face, tapping your nose with his finger, “well, you’re my best friend.”

Steve keeps his eyes down, not wanting to look between you and Eddie.

You smile at the way Eddie looks at you, the way his eyes glisten, the way his cheeks are always a little red, the way–

“Do you guys wanna smoke this?” Steve asks, cutting the voice in your head.

“Here?”

He chuckles at Robin, “of course not. We could go back to my place, my parents aren’t home, anyways.”

To Eddie’s surprise, he not only directs these words at you and Robin, he also directs them at him.

“Uh, I’d love to!” Robin grins.

Steve gives you a hopeful smile, one that makes it impossible to say no to him.

“Me too.”

At that, his eyes light up and his smile grows bigger.

“Sure, let’s do it.”

“We’ll have to walk though,” Robin gestures to the drink Steve already had, “cause you can’t drive and I don’t have a license.”

He shrugs, “we can take Eddie’s van and I’ll get my car tomorrow morning.”

“Uh, no,” Eddie mumbles, scratching the back of his neck, “my uncle took my van cause his car is at the shop, we walked here.”

Steve sighs, “shit.”

“But you could let me drive, I didn’t have anything yet,” Eddie smirks, pointing to the untouched shots.

Steve snorts at him with a deep glare, “uh, yeah, keep dreaming, Munson,” he mumbles as he leans back, reaching for the keys in his pockets, you all watch him curiously. “The only one who’s allowed to drive my car is dolly.”

Robin raises her brows in surprise when Steve chucks his keys at you that you quickly catch, looking down at them with a dumbfounded expression before your eyes light up and you look up, beaming at Steve.

“Okay, let’s go,” you smile, excitedly as you play with the car keys. You scoot back, getting up from the chair. Robin knocks back one shot before she gets up as well. Steve and Eddie glance at the four untouched shots on the table and then, their eyes meet, they both shrug at each other and reach for two shots, each.

Robin pats Steve’s shoulder, chuckling when he knocks one back and then the other, grimacing at the strong taste.

You giggle at Eddie, who looks unfazed by the bitter taste.

“Let’s go, ladies and.. Steve,” he grins.

“Dude.”

“Don’t start this again,” Robin warns, pointing at them both before she rushes over to you, wrapping her arm around your shoulder, she grins, “us ladies, ride in the front, and you two can cuddle in the back,” she winks at them, pulling you away with a giggle.

After an eventful ride to Steve’s house and a few shots of tequila, you all settled in his backyard, each of you occupying one of the many loungers around the pool. Passing around the joint that Eddie had given Steve as a ‘birthday gift’. You are sipping on a drink that Steve has made for you, coke mixed with his dad’s expensive whiskey. You are pretty sure that you will regret the amount of alcohol and weed you are having tonight, when you wake up tomorrow morning. But the floaty and giddy feeling you are experiencing right now, will have to make up for it.

Steve is sitting on the lounger beside you, a can of beer in his hand, his lips wrapped around the joint that is already stained with your lipstick. A spitcurl is hanging in front of his eyes, he doesn’t bother to push it away. He shakes his head at something Robin had said to him, something you didn’t even hear because you were too busy letting your eyes skip back and forth between him and the curly haired metalhead who now left his lounger to be closer to you.

Eddie wraps his hands around your calves, stroking your skin softly with his ringed fingers as he places your feet on his lap. He does it all without breaking his conversation with Robin. Though he feels the goosebumps on your skin, he hears the breath that hitched in your throat when he touched you. He hides his smirk behind his drink as he takes a sip of the cold beer.

Steve clenches his jaw as he looks between you and Eddie. The way he continues to stroke your calf, the way he smirks at your reaction, the way you are blushing, biting your lip as you look down at the hand touching your skin.

He forces himself to look away, turning back to Robin, he offers her the joint.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, giggling when she almost doubles over as she reaches for the joint.

“Already hammered and we haven’t even played a drinking game yet, tsk,” Eddie shakes his head, giving her a playful grin.

With an eye roll, she gets up, placing the joint between her lips as she sits down next to Steve.

“A drinking game, huh? What kind? ‘Never have I ever’? Okay,” She grins at him without giving him a chance to reply. “Never have I ever had a girlfriend,” she smirks, teasing him.

Steve licks his lips, chuckling at Eddie, who nods at her with an annoyed look on his face.

You raise your eyebrows, “why are you teasing him, I never had a girlfriend, either,” you shrug.

“Yeah but you had a boyfriend,” she mumbles, nudging Steve’s shoulder.

Eddie tilts his head at you, looking you up and down with a smirk, “do you want one?”

“A girlfriend?” You ask as you raise the glass to your lips, shrugging, “I don’t know, I never thought about it but kissing girls is fun, so.. I suppose doing anything else with a girl is fun too.”

Eddie’s lips part, his brown eyes widen, darkening as they do so. He swallows as he continues to stare at you. Millions of questions run through his mind. There are things he doesn’t know about you, yet?

Robin and Steve look at you in surprise.

“Wait, w-what?” He mumbles, laughing nervously.

Robin’s lips curl into a smirk, “you kissed a girl before? Who?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, do tell us your dirty little secrets.”

“Hmm, no,” you smirk, batting your eyelashes at him.

“Was that before or after me?” Steve asks, cheeks flushed red as he tries to fight the images out of his mind.

“Before you,” you giggle.

“Shit, I wanna know who it was.”

“Me too, Eddie,” Robin says. “I know that it wasn’t Chrissy, she’d tell me.”

“Huh, was it another girl from the cheer squad?”

You shake your head at Eddie, biting your lip to keep yourself from laughing.

“Were you close?”

You shrug, nodding your head.

Steve squints his eyes, tilting his head at you.

Robin’s jaw drops a little when she figures it out. There is only one girl that you’re close with that wasn’t in the cheer squad – well, besides her.

“Holy shit,” she mouths at you, grinning.

Steve and Eddie glance at each other in confusion.

It’s amusing how obvious the answer is, yet, neither of them are close to figuring it out.

“If you think kissing a girl is fun, you should try eating one out,” Robin mumbles before she takes a drag from the joint, “it’s the best thing ever.” She blows out the smoke, not noticing the confused frown on your face.

“For once, I have to agree with you, Robin,” Eddie chuckles.

Steve freezes, closing his eyes as he looks down.

“Huh?”

Noticing the look on your face, Robin suddenly regrets opening her mouth about that. Your lips are parted, your eyes filled with confusion and curiosity, your brows are pinched together as you stare at her with a questioning look on your face. She straightens her back, muttering a quiet ‘fuck’ under her breath when she looks at Steve’s embarrassed face.

“What’s that?”

Eddie freezes. The smirk falls from his face, he glances at you, at the clueless, lost look on your face. Oh. Steve had never – fuck. How? If you were his, he’d spend day and night on his knees, worshiping you.

“Huh?” This time, it’s him, whose confused.

You look at him with big and curious eyes.

“What is that, I don’t watch porn.”

“Damn, I guess it’s time to,” Robin mutters through gritted teeth.

“Licking someone’s pussy, sweetheart. And well, fucking one with your tongue.”

Your jaw drops, your cheeks heat up and you stare at him in shock. You look cute like this and he could stare at you forever but, in his state of shock, he slowly turns his head towards Steve, eyes filled with concern, confusion and disbelief, “dude, what is wrong with you?”

Steve, whose face is beet red, glares at him.

“I’m very self conscious of not doing a good job, so–”

“You learn!” Eddie throws his hands up.

“What, Munson, are you the pussy expert or something?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes at him.

You look back and forth between them. Taking in the sight of Eddie’s slightly angered face and Steve’s embarrassed one.

“I have eaten my share of pussy, thank you very much.”

The scoff falls from your lips before you can even stop it. Neither of them acknowledge you though, until you open your mouth. “What, like three?” You scoff, again. “You only fucked three girls, that’s what you told me, unless you lied about that.”

Eddie swallows, glancing at you, he fails to notice just how intense the look in your eyes is.

“There’s a difference between sex and foreplay, sweetheart.”

You bite the insides of your cheeks, swallowing the bitterness on your tongue as you look into his eyes. Not once, had you spent a single second wondering if Eddie was seeing someone, if he was fooling around with girls when he wasn’t with you. But now that you think about it, now that you imagine him with other girls, you suddenly feel the bile rising in your throat. The sickening feeling makes you want to drop to your knees and puke out the waffles you had eaten this morning.

“So, when was the last time you did that then, Eddie?” Robin asks, both curious to know and to see your reaction.

He shrugs, “I don’t know, Buckley. I don’t keep count of how many days–”

“Yes, you do! Men always do!”

He doesn’t feel comfortable sharing that in front of you, but he knows that Robin won’t drop it until she gets an answer she’s satisfied with. Besides, you probably won’t even care. Despite Dmitri’s encouraging words, he still refuses to believe that there are any feelings other than the platonic ones that you feel for him. This won’t hurt you, right?

“Fine! Two or three months ago, happy? Now, Harrington, I think I should teach you some basics.”

You feel as though a cold bucket of water has been dropped on you. Your heart leaps to your throat as your stomach drops. Another wave of sickness floods through you. You stare at him, not noticing Steve’s or Robin’s eyes on you.

When was that? Was it the weekend you couldn’t spend time with him? The night you couldn’t come to his gig? Was it before or after he had gotten angry at you for kissing Steve?

It shouldn’t affect you as much as it does, it shouldn’t make you feel this sick, this jealous. You barely figured out your feelings for him. But the longer you stare at him, listen to his words, you can’t help but feel anger rather than jealousy.

You didn’t have feelings for him back then, or at least, you weren’t aware of them. He’s single and free to do whatever he wants but so are you – so were you when you kissed Steve and yet, he was so angry at you when he found out about it. He treated you so coldly, all because he hated the thought of you kissing Steve. Yet, he was out there fooling around with other girls.

“You have never actually eaten pussy before, dude?” Robin mumbles.

Steve rubs the back of his neck, nervously, “I mean, yeah. Just not–” he pauses with a look of shame in his eyes as he briefly glances at you.

You roll your eyes.

You’re not surprised to hear that, you’re not even hurt. After everything that happened between you and him, his sex life with Nancy is the last thing you had ever worried about. You always knew that he treated her better than he ever treated you.

And, that he tried new things with her isn’t anything shocking to you, anyways.

You open your mouth but before you can say something that might ruin the night, you press your lips together again. Sighing, you look down at your drink. You take a deep breath before you raise the glass to your lips, gulping down the rest of it.

You plaster a smile on your face. Ignoring the concerned looks that Robin is giving you. She thankfully changes the topic. Eddie and Steve, surprisingly fall into yet another conversation.

Their distraction allows you to slip away for a moment, you pass by Robin without meeting her eyes and make a quick escape to the bathroom. Locking yourself into the small room for a moment to collect yourself.

Despite the anger you are feeling, you don’t want to ruin the night for Steve.

You splash some cold water and run your fingers through your hair.

With tears in your eyes, you stare at yourself in the mirror.

Whether it’s tears of anger or tears of sadness. You are sick of it. You are sick of yourself. You are sick of crying. You are sick of the pining, of the jealousy, of the sadness.

Steve had given Nancy everything. He tried new things with her while you were grieving your relationship, crying yourself to sleep and thinking about him like a goddamn fool while he was having the time of his life with a different girl.

And Eddie, you try not to think about it, you try not to let the jealousy in. But you can’t push out the anger that you are feeling for him, right now.

Or the anger that you are feeling for yourself.

How you take everything to heart. How you let everything and everyone hurt you.

You are done.

You are so fucking done.

next chapter

tagging friends & mutuals

@taintedcigs @mysticmunson @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @succubusmunson @trashmouth-richie @xxhellfirebunnyxx @take-everything-you-can @sherrylyn628 @chrissymjstan @somethingvicked @nemesis729

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst

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