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martyrlamb · 6 months

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✶ when the clock strikes / leon kennedy

pairing: leon kennedy x gn!reader

summary: you’re starting to think a certain agent might be faking his injuries to see you.

tags: sfw, pure fluff, a bit of angst as a treat, love at first sight basically, silly workplace love story, nurse!reader, 1 year post re4r!leon, no use of y/n, extremely mildly passively suggestive, leon takes his shirt off twice (woohoo!), kissing, swearing, leon is awkward as hell, you are too though so it’s okay, description of bruises, cuts and a muscle knot (not detailed), medical talk, slight mention of gore and blood, reader has a backstory, reader has a mother.

note: i blinked and suddenly there were 8k words in my doc idek how that happened. im actually so nervous to post because this is my first one shot ever!! my cherry has been popped… but also apologies if things are kind of all over the place bc im still trying to get the swing of it all. trying to write in the present tense was like being beat over the head repeatedly so im sure theres many grammatical mistakes in that department

word count: 8.5k (got possessed sorry)

Everyone thought you were crazy when you accepted the offer.

It is crazy—but you aren’t stupid. You knew what you were getting into a long time ago as a nurse; people get hurt, and then you save them. Clockwork.

Years ago, you started studying to be a nurse in some middle of nowhere midwestern school. You remembered the rolling hills and the ungodly heavy blankets of snow that fell during the winter months, the fallen leaves that the snow covered. It was all so peaceful for a while… until the outbreak.

You never saw it coming, no one did, really. At least, you hope no one predicted the atrocities that were about to be witnessed by thousands of innocents without warning.

Gnashing teeth and hands with dried blood that streaked down arms like veins plagued the memory of that point in your life. It was surreal to believe that you got up that morning and made your breakfast like any other day, you slid your shoes on and grabbed your keys, and then your foot hit the front porch and the trajectory of your life changed permanently.

The virus started as a woman with red-ringed eyes and pallid skin that reflected off of the blinding overhead lights—she looked visibly ill. That’s all that mattered at the time. You were actually the one who situated her and her husband in their room, he smiled at you and thanked you for your time and you scribbled down notes before hanging the clipboard and leaving the room for the doctor. The screeching horror music plays when you get to this part of the memory.

A type of calm before the storm. You hold your breath every time.

A few hours later people started screaming, and someone—something ran out of that room and wrenched its grip on the first person it saw. Blue scrubs dyed a nasty crimson, like crushed raspberries on cloth. The next part is a blur of running, watching your coworkers die, and using your medical expertise to help anyone who needed it. People were hurt. You saved them.

Like you said, clockwork. You try not to think about it too hard.

By the time help came, you had cramped a large handful of survivors—albeit, injured survivors—into a small house that was a mile or two from the hospital. Your quick thinking protected many people that day, and your skills were recognized.

A week prior, you were a simple nursing student who was lucky enough to be placed in a hospital, and by the next Sunday, you were being offered a position as a medic with the Anti-Umbrella Pursuit and Investigation Team. You finished your schooling, you got your specialized training, and now you’re on your way to your first assignment out of the country.

So, granted, maybe you are a little crazy for accepting such a prestigious and dangerous position after your humble beginnings. Your mother never ceases to remind you of this, with what little information you were allowed to tell her.

Iceland? she said, pulling her lips into a line. Are you crazy?

You begin to think that you are now that you stand in front of the base, arms tucked around yourself and teeth chattering as a sergeant points you around like one of his troops. Between the hustle and bustle of agents hurrying around and the amount of civilians sitting beneath the large, brown medical tent, you understand why they needed all the help they could get.

Things in Iceland were bad apparently; Umbrella thought the remote location would protect what little was left of them, and their research, from being exposed. Unfortunately for them, (and fortunately for everyone else) the AUPIT caught wind of what was happening and vowed to put a stop to it. You, freshly out of training, were sent to help with the sudden influx of displaced non-combatants and wounded agents.

Within the hour of the helicopter landing, you settle in and pull your cold weather scrubs on.

There aren’t many other nurses—only two—and neither of them seem to be very fond of you. The head nurse is older and straight-laced, following procedure, not mingling with you unless she has to. You don’t think you’re ever going to be put on a shift with the other nurse, but they spare you a few ireful glances. It’s like they could smell the fresh blood, and the scent made them turn their noses.

Nonetheless, you weren’t there to socialize, so you rolled up your sleeves and did your job, trying to ignore the passive aggressive looks being thrown at you from left and right. This kind of mutual ignorance worked for about three days, until you were placed on the night shift… every single night.

Before you came along, it was determined that the night shift could be manned by one person, as injured civilians were sent to the safehouses by nightfall and nearly all of the agents were either out on work or taking a much needed rest. There was no reason for both nurses to be awake when one could conserve their energy and rest while the other worked. So, most nights you spent alone, sitting by the fire in the back of the tent as you waited for the sun to come up.

One of those nights crept up on you again. You bounce your foot against the ground until your ankle aches, sitting in a lawn chair next to the fire with a wool blanket draped over your shoulders. Nothing chirps in the distance like the environment you’re used to, the only noises that float through the air are the wind rustling bare-armed bushes and your own breathing. There was a rip in the tent whistling, too, but you’d be damned if you let the incessant noise drive you insane. You were scared of the eerie silence for the first few days, but that quickly became replaced by the complete boredom that followed it.

You blow a raspberry as you spin a pen in your ungloved hand, fingers numb and stretched stiff with cold. I’ve ought to ask someone for a book, you thought to yourself, or a new job. You immediately push the second contemplation out of your head like it was something dirty and sat up a little straighter; your annoyance made sense, but this is what you wanted to do with your life. You want to help people in need.

Not that there were many people around.

In the distance, like divine intervention, you hear the crackle of wheels against snow, and a black mini-van rolls to a stop in front of the tent. A scuffle inside ensues for a moment, then the doors open and a man comes hobbling into the shelter with his arm over another man’s shoulder.

You nearly fall out of your seat with how fast you stand up and stride over to the men, assisting the injured one onto a cot.

“What happened?” you ask, pushing a cart of equipment to his bedside.

The uninjured one remarks from beside you, “Some snow gave way and he went down this hill with some pretty nasty bushes at the bottom.” His voice is quick and clicky. He looks young.

Clearly, they’re two agents, judging by the leather holsters strapped around their waists and shoulders. You purse your lips and place a lantern on the cart, gently inspecting the injured agent. There’s thorns lodged along the entirety of his left side, looking a bit like a child’s crude attempt at art with toothpicks and styrofoam.

He grunts when you gently lift his arm to check underneath, and you mutter an apology before you turn to the other agent. “I can take this from here.”

The agent nods and spins on his heel, disappearing into the darkness once he stepped out into the open air.

You turn your attention towards the man in front of you and pull on a pair of gloves, the latex makes a sharp snapping noise when you let go. His intense gaze follows your movements with great intrigue—or suspicion… you couldn’t really tell. You pick up a pair of tweezers and set them on the cart. You also finally got a good look at the wounded agent.

Blue eyes that strike down what little defenses you have and brows that spend their time permanently creased, almost erasing the space between them while he inspects you. His ability to make you feel thoroughly grilled with a simple fixated stare would have made you squirm years prior, but now you merely stare back with your eyebrows lifted. The blonde—possibly light brown haired, the darkness didn’t give much way in the form of colour—man averts his eyes first, as if he is caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

You’d be lying if you said he wasn’t attractive, but that’s not your focus right now.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, flicking on a flashlight to check his pupils. Healthy, good. He squints at you through the beam.

“Like I fell into a thorn bush.”

Looks like someone feels funny. You deadpan at him, unamused with the sarcasm while you try to help. Your expression beckons a better answer and he backpedals.

The man’s head bobs subtly, like a scale in his mind is weighing his thoughts on either side, and then he says, “I’m just fine.”

“Are you dizzy? Nauseous?”

“Fine.”

“Okay,” you reply, blowing out a not-so-inconspicuous huff of annoyed air that swirls above you in the cold. The agent raises his brow at your reaction but doesn’t seem too keen on speaking on it. “I’ll try to be as gentle as I can, but it’s going to be a lot of poking and prodding.”

He lets out another grunt that could have possibly been an Mhm… but you aren’t sure. You hold the tweezers between your fingers and begin to pluck them out, placing them on the metal pan on your cart. Clink, clink, clink. They fall from the tweezers with tiny noises.

To your surprise, he doesn’t writhe or make much noise, only occasional grunts and sighs and Shit’s under his breath when you pull at particularly deep thorns lodged in his arm.

Even for an agent, his arms are an impressive size, which means a lot more surface area to extract from. Not that you really mind, as you would have helped him either way, but surely you would feel differently if you were in his shoes.

However, the silence is… awkward; sitting there with your face inches from his huge arms—he could definitely feel your breath fan across the surface with how his skin dances with warmth and goosebumps and you do not want the attractive agent to focus on that. So, you break it with a question.

“You weren’t wearing a jacket?” A valid query, all things considered.

He blinks at you like it was obvious. “It came off.”

“Oh,” is all you say until you extract the last thorn from his arm and begin to slide the leather shoulder holster off of him. “I just need to take this off.”

He frowns slightly, and you realize his brows had been furrowed this whole time because that was all his face seemed to know how to do. When his expression changes, you stop.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Taking it off so I can look under your sleeve.”

“Why?”

“You could’ve pulled something and I need to bandage you,” you pause. “Is that okay?”

Maybe you wrongly assumed that he had done this a million times. Don’t get you wrong, you know how resilient agents had to be and how good they were at their jobs, so it isn’t like you thought he got hurt often… But with a short glance into his eyes, you could tell he’s a hardened delegate with years of experience under his belt. Wasn’t he bound to need help occasionally?

The man gives you a slight nod and shrugs off the holster; it falls to the bed with a soft thud from the weight of the knife tucked into the leather.

His muscles tense under your fingers when you roll the black sleeve over his shoulder. The feathered, pale edge of a bullet scar peeks out from beneath the dark clothing and it makes you wonder how he managed to get it. A mission? Probably. It looks old. You’ve seen scars of all kinds at that point, and each of them held a story that ended in pierced flesh.

They remind you that they will never not be where they came from—your own scars will never not be where they came from. You shake the thought out like a stubborn rock in your shoe.

“Lucky you, it doesn’t look like you pulled anything in your shoulder,” you comment under your breath.

“If this is luck, I’d like to see what happens when I get unlucky.” For the first time, there’s humor in his tone—so faint you nearly miss it, but it makes you chuckle. When he isn’t huffing out responses, his voice almost sounds kind.

You rotate his shoulder slowly and inspect the length of his side, finding fewer thorns than the amount anchored in his arm. Still, your lips press into a line, pitying the fact that his bare skin will be exposed to the frigid, below-freezing air so you could remove them.

“Well, you should’ve knocked on wood,” you reply, “I’ll need you to take your shirt off so I can get the rest of the thorns out and check your ribs.”

Silently, the man hikes his shirt up and over his ribs for you, snaking his arm out of his sleeve and then laying on his side.

As he comes down, stretching, he groans. You see his muscles tense under his skin when he inhales, the dips and divots of his torso flex involuntarily when the squall of air nips at his newly exposed skin. The surface holds blossoms of red and deep purple that litter themselves across his ribs like splotches of messy watercolor dripped onto paper. Scarlet scratches bleed pebbles that drip onto the fabric of the cot.

You suck in through your teeth as you inspect the area. Even without the damage from the thorns, it doesn’t look good.

“Not good?” the agent questions as if he could read your mind. From over his shoulder, he turna his head to look at you.

“Not good. You bruised your ribs, I’d be surprised if one of them wasn’t broken.”

“I didn’t hear a crack.”

“It should be monitored for a day or two, at the very least.”

“I have to get back to work.”

“Look, I understand—“

“I’ll be fine.”

You sigh softly and remove one of your gloves to rub your face in exasperation. Unfortunately, this wasn’t your first rodeo with stubborn patients, so you slide on another glove and begin to pluck at the thorns in his torso. “You won’t be doing much work if you permanently damage them.”

He twists his head away from you again and grunts softly, muttering a short, “Okay.”

How articulate. You guess he doesn’t get paid to talk to people.

“Okay? As in…?”

“As in, fine,” he replies, then pauses for a moment as if to prove a point. “But I’m sure you have better things to do.”

You laugh at this, then stifle it into your elbow so he didn’t think you were laughing at him. He still rolls over a little to look at you, confusion laces his eyes that dart around as they go from your face to the rows of empty cots behind you. Busy? You begin to laugh again.

He can’t be serious, you think as you fan your face. You let your laughter dissipate like it was being dissolved into water. “Sorry… no, you’re right,” you snort, “I was drowning in work before you arrived, agent.”

“I’m sure,” he chirps back, the ghost of a smile haunts his lips.

“I think I can squeeze you in, though. Might have to clear some of my schedule, but… I’ll make it work.”

The pleased look that graces your face is involuntary. You find it endearing how worried he is about becoming too much extra work for you and the other nurses, despite the fact that there isn’t any reason to gather that he would and—believe it or not—it’s your job.

The agent lets out an amused breath through his nose. “Should I be flattered?”

“Oh, of course.”

You place the last of the thorns onto the metal pan and tend to his wounds with gauze and bandages and nimble fingers that have done this hundreds of times before. Sometime along the way his body relaxed—just a little—and you think he fell asleep until he sits up like a puppet that had his strings yanked and puts his shirt on properly.

The sudden movement makes you blink, and he stares at you for a long pause filled with dead air and an expectant look in his eyes. That damn rip in the tent whistles.

Finally, his eyes flicker down to your badge, then back to your face. “I’ve never seen you before.”

“I started here not too long ago,” you inform him honestly, a little embarrassed to admit your newbie title to a seasoned employee of the organization.

He doesn’t say anything else, so you take the reins.

“Well, I think we’re set,” you say, rolling the latex gloves off of your hands. “Let me know if you need anything, Agent…”

You never asked him his name?

“Leon Kennedy,” the agent, now with the name Leon Kennedy pinned to his face, finishes for you.

His name twirls around your head and makes you dizzy to think about. I should have known, you think to yourself once he bids you farewell to report to his superiors.

From what little time you spent at the base prior to meeting Leon, you had heard whispers during dinner drift from mouth to ear of the elusive agent. That he was a man of few words (immense understatement, you consider it more socially awkward, but true); that he had half of the base swooning every time he walked by (you don’t want to comment on this); and that he was immensely attractive (that is also true). You have to admit… you see why he had such an air of intrigue around him. To be so quiet after such successes he’s accomplished—people were on the edge of their seats trying to figure him out.

You also had to admit that you weren’t immune to it either.

During your meals and breaks you found yourself playing Where’s Waldo? with Leon, attempting to catch glimpses of him in his natural state to confirm or deny these claims. Which was impressively difficult for absolutely no reason other than that he did it for his own benefit… the motive for this was lost, and still is, on you.

The few times you did spot him, he had the same clenched jaw and furrowed eyebrows. He never stayed in the same place for very long and frequently you only spotted him—or rather, his broad shoulders and white-knuckled fists as they turned corners and disappeared to do whatever he did all day. Important agent things.

Regarding your coworkers… it hadn’t improved much, either. The head nurse, who you later learned was named Winona, loosened up on you a bit—which was practically nothing when both she and the other nurse had been so cold to begin with. However, your determination to help those around you seemed to impress her… most days.

(Peeks of Leon’s ashy blonde hair stolen from cracks in the tent. His fur-lined coat hangs off of his sizable frame, enveloping his arms in the thick fabric—it makes them look even bigger. Not that you care, per say, but—

“You aren’t getting paid to stalk agents,” Winona jeers, jolting you back to Earth from your subject of stolen attention. You swear she smiles at you wryly. “Should’ve tried for one of their jobs if you wanted to do that.”

She turns on her heel and goes over to a trio of injured civilians with her cart, the knot of hair tied taut at the base of her neck stares you in the face. You’re left hot faced and embarrassed for the entirety of the next check-up with your patient.)

The endless night shifts never seem to cease rolling in and you’re afraid it’s begun to catch up on you. By the end of breakfast, when you could finally drag your corpse-like body to your quarters and into your bed, your head drooped comically into your bowl of oatmeal and some of the newer agents had a blast laughing at you. Whatever, assholes.

(You were deeply embarrassed.)

So, you opted for allowing a short nap in here and there during your shift—ten minutes at most—whenever your eyelids began to feel itchy and weighted and you couldn’t help but close them. You really couldn’t. Being sat by the fire with a hot drink made you so warm and the sounds of blowing wind lulled you to sleep in the darkness under the moon.

Truly, a terrible work performance from you, but no one was around to see and surely you’d be awoken by even a hint of an emergency.

Tonight, you count sheep with your wool blanket tucked up to your chin and your head lolls against your shoulder like it’s about to fall off its hinges. One, two, three. They mock you as they hop into their pasture and curl up into white, fluffy spheres, falling asleep within the warmth of their home.

From a distance, your ears almost register the sound of footsteps that approach the tent, crushing the crunchy top layer of snow under their feet as they stop in the entrance. It isn’t enough to completely wake you until they clear their throat and say, “Hello?”

Your eyes snap open and you turn your head so fast you think it might go flying across the room. Really smooth of you, considering Leon is the one to get your attention. By the smug look on his face and slight chuckle that wracks his frame, you know he isn’t fooled with your act awake performance.

He stands there, towering and rigid, unlike the night you first met him, with his palm outstretched flat like he’s trying to show the world something.

“Oh, hey, what do you need?” you reply quickly, standing from your chair as you let your blanket fall off of you.

Leon glances at his hand and then at you. “I, uh, got a papercut.”

“A paper cut,” you repeat, just to make sure you heard him right.

“Yeah.”

You stare at him for a moment, mouth agape as his words register as something he was actually saying to you.

“Well, get comfortable, then. I’ll patch you up.”

In reality, you’re terribly confused about a special forces agent needing first aid for a paper cut, but how could you complain? He needs help and you’re there to offer it.

The blonde sits on a cot near the fire—not before picking up your blanket from the ground and placing it back on the chair, though—and you situate yourself on a stool facing him.

You take Leon’s hand in yours gently and inspect the wound. It’s fairly shallow, but placed in the center of the webbed skin between his index finger and thumb. Tough spot. When your digits graze his rough knuckles he inhales sharply and you glance at him due to the sudden motion.

He doesn’t expect a reaction from you because he pauses for a second then asks, “You think I’ll live?”

“I dunno,” you answer, sucking your teeth. “Could be a close call.”

“Yeesh.”

“I know. My condolences.”

“For myself?”

“Uh-huh.” You turn his hand over so his palm faced the sky. “This’ll sting.”

When you disinfect the injury, Leon’s face twitches into itself but he keeps quiet, opting to focus his gaze on your face while you patch him up. You try not to shift under the intensity.

“What made you want to do this?” he queries, his voice cuts through the silence and startles you a bit. Leon looks pleased with himself and you roll your eyes.

“You’ll laugh.”

“Why would I do that?”

“It’s corny.”

Admittedly, it was—the original story as to why you wanted to be a nurse. You’ve had people laugh at it before and you mostly don’t want to repeat history with someone you find rather charming, but something in Leon’s face softens and he shakes his head briefly.

“Try me,” he challenges.

“Oh, fine.” Like there was a fight put up when you relent, smoothing a bandaid over his cut. “You know those things you’d fill out as a kid? Where it’s like, what do you want to be when you grow up?”

Leon nods.

“Every single time, I would write superhero,” you laugh sourly because you got used to other people laughing when you said this, but he listens as if you’re the only sound he’s ever heard. “I’d draw myself with a little cape and all that. Then at a certain age the teachers start telling you, pick a real job, pick something that exists. And, I dunno, I thought: there are real superheroes. They save people every day because they want to.”

“I mean, I always knew I didn’t have all the right assets to be the one rescuing people from burning buildings and punching the bad guys. I wanted to help people when they couldn’t help themselves, you know? I can't carry the weight of the situation—it’s just not in my nature—but I can carry them. That’s why I started doing this, I guess.”

The look he gives you when you finish speaking is indescribable. He gazes deeply into your face like he’s trying to find a new feature he missed the first time. Something akin to pulling apart your mind with his eyes as if it’s clay made for the shaping and a load of a melancholy that’s too heavy for him; like he’s asking you, how do I carry it? Tell me how to carry something like that.

Your hand still lingers in his, over the bandaid you placed on him; you slide yours so the curves of your thumbs interlock and you grip the hilt of his palm. A hidden embrace.

Leon’s eyes dart toward your hands and he makes no effort to remove you from his grasp, his fingers relax against your wrist. He feels your heartbeat. You feel his. When he looks up again, all he sees are your eyes.

You don’t know why you went on that anecdote in the first place, not really. Only that you were finished patching him up and wanted—needed—him to linger for a bit longer.

“What about you?” you ask, voice hushed close to nothing.

“I wanted to help people, too.” He sounds uncharacteristic—sheepish? “That’s it… I can’t follow up with something as articulate as you.”

“It matters just as much even if you can’t express it,” you assure him, your head tilts.

Leon clears his throat and nods, slipping his hand from yours and looking anywhere that isn’t you. You created a shadow in front of his face, back facing the fire, but you can see the subtle dark tinge of his cheeks when he avoids your eyes. He chooses to look at his feet. There he goes, being endearing again, you think.

The harsh edges of his face are lit up with an orange glow, darkness shoots somewhere in between in a soft gradient, and he looks positively ethereal. If you reached out and cupped his face, you know it would be warm to the touch like laundry right out of the dryer. It makes him look all the more delicate and this feels more natural than the pointed looks and pinched expressions he usually wears.

You look back down at his hands. You’re trying to memorize the way they felt against yours (coarse and hot to the touch) and you get the picture of how hopeless you are—even an idiot could see you have a crush on him.

That doesn’t stop you from protecting your pride and you keep it to yourself. You stand up to put the disinfectant supplies and box of bandaids away without a word.

Leon stares at his hand like it’s missing a piece.

You have your head buried too deep into the cabinet to think much about that. Screaming at yourself was an understatement for what you’re doing in your head… a better description would be begging the floor to swallow you entirely with one gulp.

Surely, Leon has someone at home. He’s an attractive, intelligent man with an arguably stable job that pays him oodles more than he would ever need; not to mention how well-built he is, but again, for what seems like the millionth time you push this thought to the back of your mind. You could not focus on that.

“Are you okay?” his voice carries from the cot.

You take a moment’s breather and shut the cabinet door. “I’m good. How are your ribs?”

“They’re good.” Leon pauses, then adds. “Thanks.”

The shake of your head comes faster than your words; muscle memory. “It’s what I’m here for.”

“You do a good job.”

“I’m just a medic.”

“A good one.”

As you utter your gratitude for his comment, you hope he couldn’t feel the heat radiating off of your face from so far away. You weren’t one to get shy from such simple words, but you find your eyes glued to your boots because of his gentle bonniness. Damn you, you curse at him in your head—it held no weight.

The blonde stands from the cot and walks over to you. He bends slightly to catch your eyes in his. “I have to go now, but... yeah. Thank you.”

“Of course, Agent Kennedy.”

“Don’t start using formalities now,” he half-laughs, half-breathes. His face contorts when he stretches back, and his hand came up to massage his right shoulder—you even go to comment on this movement, being a medic and all, but he beats you to it with a smirk. “Stick with Leon.”

And then, in a few strides, he’s gone as fast as he came.

Your entire body deflates when you let out a guttural sigh. How come every time you watched his back, you were left reeling?

Unfortunately for you, that blasted man had ingrained himself into your head, sitting pretty in your thoughts as snug as a bug in a rug while you tried to do your job, or attempted to focus on anything other than your feelings for him. On the contrary, he returned to clearing out Umbrella facilities for the time being, which meant he was out of the base for days, or even weeks, considering he was one of, if not, the best agent they had. This saved you from the embarrassment of being caught trying to catch glances of him from inside the tent or during meals.

This, however, did not stop you from daydreaming when work got slow.

You wondered how someone like Leon behaved domestically, if he was completely different outside of the AUPIT, or if he was still just the sweet, reserved man who needed your aid often. Did he have any pets? What music did he listen to? You guess you’d have to ask him later, but you imagined that the pieces would fall into place and suit him. They’d be so perfectly Leon that when he told you, you would think to yourself, huh, why didn’t I think of that?

The amount of daydreaming you did was not lost on Winona, and occasionally she snapped her fingers in front of your face and grumbled under her breath, “I’ll kill that boy.” With no real threat to her tone.

Please, you can’t help it. He has arms with the muscle definition of a god and he told you-you were a good medic; you were a goner before you even realized it.

On the other hand, your family never let up with their pleas for you to return home, despite the fact that it simply wasn’t possible unless you had a very good reason for it. Which you didn’t, and you didn’t want to—people just didn’t get it through their heads that, yes, your job was difficult, and yes, patients got on your nerves sometimes, but no, you wouldn’t trade it for the world. This meant more to you than anything else you could fathom. You knew the fear these people felt first-hand, and you knew they needed a saving grace; just like you had.

(“Just come home,” your mother coos into the phone, her voice static-y and chopped from the poor signal. You could imagine her face right now, all worried and exhausted like you’re a child balancing on a wet playground. “There’s a hospital not too far from here… I’m sure they’d take you.

You promptly spend the next hour explaining to her that it isn’t that simple, even if you wanted to, and you remind her every few minutes that you aren’t going to leave, either. You’re happy, all things considered; which is why you make the executive decision to leave out all of the bad parts of your work so far.)

As for the efforts against Umbrella, you hear whispers of successes during dinners and fewer agents appeared at the medical tent’s door in need of assistance than when you arrived. So, you think things are going rather well for your organization. Less tired eyes and solemn faces; the fight wasn’t over, but everyone could rest a little easier with every night that passed.

And yet, those damned night shifts. You swear Winona and that other medic were scheming against you for no reason other than pure spite, on the basis of simply because they didn’t feel like doing it. It has to be funny to them by now, seeing you half-asleep at breakfast and looking all mussed at dinner because you woke up ten minutes prior. You let them laugh all they wanted because frankly, you began to enjoy the night shifts. The world went to sleep, and you enjoyed some peace and quiet.

You kick your feet up onto a stool and drape a blanket over your legs, book in hand. The soft sounds of Icelandic pop music crackles out of the radio and floats throughout the tent. You mouth the noises of the songs, unsure of the lyrics, but you’ve heard it so often by now, you could recognize the tune from the first few beats. You scat a few of the instruments, tapping your foot along. You don't notice the figure that stopped in the doorframe.

“Enjoying yourself?” Leon. You shut your book and turn to look at him, embarrassed. “I always feel like I’m coming at a bad time.”

“Never,” you reply with a haste that humbles you further. Worried about his sudden appearance in the medical tent after being gone on agent duties for nearly two weeks, you ask, “Are you okay?”

The corners of his mouth upturn and you barely see a flash of uneven teeth between the slit it creates, cute. This distracts you from how smug his face is. “I think I have a fever.”

“A fever this time?”

“Yep.”

“Make yourself comfortable, Leon.”

A paper cut, then a fever. You begin to think of his inability to soothe his minor maladies as an excuse to visit the tent. Your stomach flutters at the thought, but you have to make sure… just in case he’d fallen ill out there in the cold.

You find the thermometer and placed it in his mouth gingerly. It hangs crooked from the corner and he watches you with a certain keenness that makes you smile. After a few minutes, you check his temperature: 98.7. An amused hum escapes your lips without meaning to.

“Dying?”

“I don’t think you have a fever,” you answer, using the back of your hand to press against his forehead and cheeks. The first cheek is cold, then the left cheek warms under your skin—Leon’s expression falls bashful. “But if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were looking for reasons to come see me.”

It’s his turn to hum in thought. “Maybe.”

“You could just come talk to me.”

“You’re on the clock,” the blonde reminds you, grunting. In a swift movement, his hand presses into the curve of his neck and he rotates his right shoulder, face straining.

You see an opening. “That I am. What was that?”

“What?”

“Your shoulder.”

“I was stretching.”

“Does it hurt?”

Leon grumbles a response under his breath, unimpressed that you might have found something you could actually treat him for. You raise your brows. “I’ll take that as a yes. Let me see.”

“It’s fine.”

“Agent Kennedy.”

He pretends not to hear you.

“Leon.”

“Fine,” he gripes like a child being forced to get a shot and maneuvers to lay his stomach flat on the cot, his back faces toward the ceiling. He takes off his brown, fur-lined jacket and discards it onto the next cot over. You get a whiff of musk and cinnamon from the breeze it makes.

The shirt that clings to him left nothing to the imagination—a tight, black compression shirt stretches snugly over his muscles. You spread your fingers like fans to warm them up, then begin to run them over his shoulder and along the meat of his back.

You tsk, full of knots. This man needs a masseuse. You make a mental note to refer him to a good one you knew.

With the issue at hand, though, you find an impressive knot in his shoulder, which is likely the cause of his discomfort.

You huff, your work cut out for you. “There’s a big knot in your shoulder, Leon. How are you living like this?”

“I wake up and roll out of bed.”

“I need to get this out.”

Leon turns his head, his cheek presses to the cot. He gives you a look that says nothing short of, are you serious? You smile as sweetly as you can at him, an attempt to coax him. To your surprise, he averts his gaze fast and relents. The blonde agent sits up and shrugs his shirt off. It’s tossed next to his jacket.

Under the fire light and the dim glow of lanterns that hang in a line down the center of the tent, strings attached to the ceiling, you see the way chills prickle over the surface of his skin. Goosebumps, like rolled carpets being kicked open, unfurl down his arms rapidly and he lays down on his stomach once again.

Your face burns in the dark—you’d be surprised if you aren’t glowing like one of those lanterns from the amount of heat it exudes.

You use a dollop of skin cream to keep the area relaxed and pliable as you work out the knot with your fingers. You push it in the right direction until you got it in a better spot, then you knead it firmly. It crackles within his body.

“Fuck…” he groans in relief, nestling his head into the fabric of the cot as he sighs. “They teach you massages in nursing school?”

“That might be just a learned from life thing,” you state in total honesty. You wipe the excess lotion from your hands on a rag.

Curiously, he peers at you from the corner of his eye. “You have someone back home you do that to?”

A laugh falls from your lips, though your face feels even hotter than before (if that is even possible). “No—not at all.”

Leon lets out a pleasant hum and sit up from the cot. Good, he says without saying it.

He snatches his shirt and tugs it over his head; you pretend to make yourself busy so you have somewhere other to look than at him. You hear him sigh with great reprieve as he rolls his shoulder back and forth, it must’ve felt like a freshly oiled hinge.

He comes up behind you, his shoulder skims the back of your neck when he peers down at what you were doing on the counter. Which is a whole lot of nothing; moving cotton swabs from one container to the other, counting how many rolls of gauze you had left for the hundredth time. Mindless hand ministrations to distract you from the heart that pounds in your chest.

“Is this what you do all night?” he questions, mildly amused.

“Sometimes.”

“Must be glad I showed up.”

“Something like that,” you tease, glancing up at him with a coy smile.

You watch his withstraint break a little inside of him. He inhales sharply, losing the words you said somewhere between your eyes and your lips—he couldn’t focus with your faces so close to each other and neither could you. Leon reaches for the hand that rested on the other side of you and drags you in between him and the counter, twirling you to face him. Then he pauses and appears lost, like he doesn’t know which way is left and right.

Maybe he doesn’t know what to do, you think. You don’t really know either, so you go on about what you do know.

“You should probably use kinesiology tape on your shoulder,” you comment, suddenly becoming hyper-aware of all of your limbs. His eyes don’t leave your lips. You’d be a liar if you say yours left his.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The man’s body heat radiates off of him and it’s magnetic, pulling you closer, away from the bitter cold. Your breath hitches. His hand hovers over the curve of your neck, then it decides to rest on the side of your jaw, thumb pressed against your flushed cheek. You remember the texture of his warm palm, coarse and calloused from years of wear.

You try to memorize every fine line and crease that scuffs your face as he beckons you to close the gap with the slight tilt of his head. I’d make a terrible agent, my resilience is slim to none, you theorize when your body moves before your mind does. His mouth hovers over yours, his breath traces your cupid’s bow. You close the distance enough that your lips graze each other until someone clears their throat from a few feet away.

Winona stands like a judgmental statue, thin brows raise expectantly. You, and Leon, jump away from each other. It rocks the counter with a loud clatter that echoes.

“Agent Kennedy,” she acknowledges him first as a sign of respect. He nods back awkwardly. “You two look like you’re enjoying yourselves.”

Neither of you talk for a moment and you find yourself desperate to create any word that could explain what that was. Leon’s eyes dart around the room.

Finally, something solid comes to your tongue. “I’m sorry.”

And then she laughs in both of your faces. Her hand waves like it’s fanning your words away from getting inhaled. You and Leon glance at each other, brows knit in honest confusion.

“Kids,” she exhales. “Stop distracting my medic, Kennedy.”

Then he speaks, but it sounds more like a nervous cough. “Yes, ma’am.”

Winona shoos him with a gesture of her wrinkled hand and he musters a sheepish, apologetic smile for you as he hurries away from the tent. You don’t make much of an effort to move as you prepare your ego for the chew out it’s about to receive.

“And you. Try to keep the fraternization out of the tent.” With that, she continues past you to search through some files, snickering to herself and shaking her head.

You aren’t about to push your luck. You get to keep your job and ego intact, and that’s enough for you. So, you whisper a quiet, “Yes, ma’am.” And go on with your day.

The encounter with Leon left you feverish and all tingly in every limb whenever it crossed your mind over the following days. You saw him out and about around the base, and during meals he offered you frail waves that faded in a breath.

Truth was, you’re too afraid of rejection to ask him about that night—go figure. Maybe you’re a cliche. Maybe you’re both cliches. Who cares? Well, you do, and you thought the ruffled, pink-tinted expressions on Leon’s face whenever you crossed paths meant that he did, too, but neither of you made a move to approach the other. You questioned if you would rather be told that his only plans for you was a short work fling with no strings attached, or if he felt the connection that you did. A terrible predicament, really, and soon your desire for a straight answer outweighed the fear of hearing something you didn’t like.

When you went to find him in the meal tent, sitting alone in one of the back corners, he wasn’t there. Okay. You waited, then decided to check the nooks and crannies of the base where you knew he hung around, and nothing. Leon vanished into thin air the moment you gathered enough courage to speak to him. Somehow you thought he read your mind and planned for this to happen, just to be able to tease you without being present. But that was simply ridiculous. He had to go to work, just like you had to do yours.

A week went by, then two; no sign of Leon’s reappearance cropped up and you began to worry you wouldn’t get the chance to speak to him at all. The only reminder that soothed you was the fact that you knew the organization was on the home stretch for completely wiping Umbrella’s power in Iceland. This reassured you for many reasons. Mainly, that you’d be able to sleep in your bed again at a proper time that didn’t leave you exhausted; but you also found comfort in the idea of finally getting a word with the blonde agent that clung to your brain like a disease once everything was over.

Of course, you had fleeting thoughts that he died and you’d forever be left wondering about what could have been. But, that was just ridiculous—he’s Leon Kennedy, the agent that saved the president’s daughter from certain death. So, you chalked it up to your anxiety being built up as doubt about the succession of the mission began to be put to an end. That yes, you would all return home soon, and no nothing terrible and tragic would happen just as you were about to win.

Eventually, you all received the verdict of the mission. Success. The sun shone through the clouds brighter that day, in ribbons of gold that elevated all of your senses to something dreamlike. Another catastrophe prevented. More people saved—clockwork. To say you were pleased with the conclusion of your first ever out of country operation would be an understatement; you were ecstatic.

Still, you find yourself fretting over that thing with Leon as you help pack up the equipment in the medical tent.

Winona, who has grown increasingly engrossed in your love life, gives you a knowing look when your lips tug downward and you send a pointed glance toward the entrance of the tent for the tenth time in the last hour. She tsks and shakes her head. It gains your attention.

“Just talk to him,” she insists, shoving a couple boxes of bandaids into the case. She’s unimpressed with your antics and just wants you to get a move on.

You sigh and preen your hair like he’ll walk in at any moment. “I haven’t seen him.”

“Hopeless,” she grumbles in response. “Hopeless. If you won’t do something about it, stop looking at the door like a kicked dog and help me.” Winona retreats further into the tent and you succumb enough to follow her.

You must glower the whole time because she won’t stop sending you dirty looks while she tapes the cardboard boxes with a tape gun. Her movements are threatening. You try to fix your expression when the line of spokes reflects off of the bright horizon outside the tent as it slices the tape.

After the innards of the tent are packed into a dozen or so boxes, you’re the person left to pick them up one by one and drop them off with the rest of the cargo that needs to be shipped. Your back is sore from the sorry excuses of beds you have and your arms ache from hours of cramming things. Kicking snow with each shuffled step, you heave out a lengthy sigh and pause to breathe. There’s a reason I’m not an agent.

“Need a hand?” Leon asks from behind you. You’re wondering how he’s always sneaking up on you.

Still, you nod and can’t help but be relieved. “Please.”

Like it’s filled with air, he takes the box from your hands and cocks a barely-there grin at your awed expression. Smug and content, he marches ahead with you in tow. You don’t really know what to say to him, if anything at all.

You walk alongside him for the first time in the daylight, and you take in his features now that they aren’t muddled in the darkened firelight or blurred by distance. He’s chiseled, sunken cheeks and high cheekbones with that intense look on in his eyes—but there’s something else—boyish, is what you think. Soft jaw. Moles and freckles litter themselves across his face.

Leon is beautiful and you would like to kiss him right now.

He stops at the drop off point, places the box next to the others and turns to you. Suddenly, he looks nervous and you feel some resolve escape your mind. He’s about to ask you something. He opens his mouth, rosy lips parting and you break—you pull him behind a tall stack of boxes and kiss him.

The collar of his jacket is clutched between your fingers in a moment and your lips are on his; the fur tickles your skin. His lips are chapped and cold but you create warmth within him, you could be a summer’s day in this frigid air. His hands come to your waist, then your hips and his fingertips make indents when he holds you tight like this was always supposed to happen. When you part, you’re both breathless.

He searches for his words again, the question he was going to ask. “Would you—dinner? On me.”

You hum in faux thought and peck him on the lips again, then again, and a third time for good measure. He smiles into the last one.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t start that by saying you stubbed your toe and needed my help.”

Leon chuckles. “I thought about it.”

He pulls you in again, tongue grazing your bottom lip. You lean in further, desperate for connection until you both go slipping like baby deer. The thin layer of snow on the ground left everything icy. He tumbles into some supplies and you land on top of him. You’re both laughing into each other’s mouths. You’re both happy.

You chime together, like clockwork.

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steddiealltheway · 8 months

Text

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Steve's knee bounces up and down as he stares at Eddie's near-lifeless form. He doesn't know how long he's been here, memories flashing through his head that he's tried to will away. But it's hard when he knows that this is all his fault.

He's the reason Eddie's in this hospital bed.

-:-:-:-

Steve bounced his leg to the beat that pierced through the trailer. He smiled at Eddie who laughed manically over the crazy-sounding song.

Eddie turned the knob down slightly and yelled over the music, "You don't have to pretend to like this!"

Steve just shook his head. "Turn it up louder. I like the way it clears my thoughts."

Eddie cranked the knob even higher and jumped on his mattress, jostling Steve who just laughed in response and stood up to join Eddie in some crazy dance.

For once, Steve felt free. He wasn't supposed to be enjoying this. Hell, he wasn't even supposed to be here. But he came up with excuses as he wrapped his arms around Eddie's shoulders, slotting them closer together.

That's why he was there, right? He needed to play the game Eddie didn't know about.

-:-:-:-

"Steve."

He's shaken out of his thoughts by Robin's hand on his shoulder. He glances at her momentarily before looking back at Eddie. He can't let him out of his sight.

"Steve, you need to eat. Even his uncle has taken a break from watching over him."

Steve knows that Robin's confused, he can hear it in her voice. Maybe it's time he finally told her but first, "Please, let me wait until someone else can watch over him."

"Dustin's in the hall. The hospital is still standing by their two visitors at a time policy, but he can watch over him while you eat."

Steve's eyes don't leave Eddie's chest which slowly moves up and down. "Why can't we eat in the room?"

Robin moves to kneel down in front of him. "Steve, you have to leave this room, okay? You need to shower and rest and eat and breathe fresh air. Please, we're all so worried about you. Dustin's already partially lost Eddie, we can't lose you, too."

Steve pries his eyes away to look at Robin. He nods. He can feel a small ache in the pit of his stomach and a heavy pull on his eyelids. "I need to tell you something."

Robin grabs his hands nodding. He's not sure when she started crying, but a slow tear rolls down her face following a trail of already smeared mascara. Steve quietly says, "This is all my fault. I'm the reason he's here." He feels his bottom lip quiver before he fully breaks, his loud sobs joining in with the steady beeping of the monitor.

Robin stands and pulls him out of the chair, letting him bury his head into her shoulder. "It's not your fault the bats got him, Steve. It's not your fault."

"Y-You don't understand," Steve sobs out as Robin pulls him in tighter.

-:-:-:-

Steve's lip quivered as he gripped onto Eddie's shoulders tightly. "I'm so sorry."

Eddie shook his head as he stared at him blinking, still slightly panting. "I don't understand."

Of course he didn't understand. He didn't know the terrible thing he was doing. Steve knew this was it. He needed to leave.

Forever.

-:-:-:-

The hospital halls are bright, and the sun is even brighter. Everything is brighter than Steve remembers. It doesn't feel right.

Robin manages to get him to his home, shoving him into the bathroom with a towel and a stack of clothes. After he gets out, she hands him fresh bandages and his prescribed ointment for the damn bat wounds.

She manages to convince him to eat a few bites of a grilled cheese she made along with some tomato soup she found in his pantry. Steve eats on autopilot while Robin sits next to him on his couch, eating in silence.

When Steve finishes half his sandwich, he puts his tray down on his coffee table and turns to Robin. "Do you promise not to hate me after I tell you this?

Robin chews as a line forms between her eyebrows. She swallows but pauses for a few seconds. "I'm your best friend. I'm going to love you no matter what."

"You don't understand," Steve says shaking his head, "There's a reason I never told you this before."

"Told me what?" Robin prompts.

Steve swallows. "At the beginning of junior year, Tommy and Carol had heard some rumor that senior Eddie Munson was gay. And for some reason, I couldn't let the idea go. So, I suggested that we should play a prank on him... And that I should..." He sighs and puts his head in his hands.

Robin's hand trails over his back.

Steve continues in a rush, "I told them I should pretend to be into him."

Robin's hand freezes on his back, and Steve hears her slightly gasp.

Steve looks up at her. "That isn't even the worst part."

-:-:-:-

Steve smirked when he saw Eddie in the back of his English class scribbling something in his notebook. He had crafted a plan at lunch the day before with Tommy and Carol. It would be easy.

Steve made his way to the back of the classroom and sat next to Eddie, making a show of digging through his backpack and not being able to find something. He looked up at Eddie and smiled politely. "You wouldn't happen to have a pencil would you?"

Eddie stared at him with a mixture of disbelief and shock at the concept of Steve Harrington acknowledging him. He glanced down at his notebook and stared at it as if he was apologizing to it. Then, Eddie handed him the pencil out of his hand.

Steve winked as he said, "Thanks."

The other boy didn't say anything, he just nodded.

Steve noticed that he didn't reach for his bag for another pencil as more people filtered into the room. Steve leaned across the way and quietly asked, "Don't you have another one?"

Eddie shook his head. "I don't really take notes. Just sketch or plan stuff."

"He speaks," Steve said with a big smile. "What are those sketches?"

Eddie shifted in his seat and looked Steve up and down before turning his sketches his way. "Creatures and shit from Dungeons and Dragons."

Honestly, they looked really cool. Steve didn't know that people could actually draw like that. His friends were always more athletic than artistic. "That's really cool," Steve said genuinely.

"Thanks," Eddie breathed out, turning the book back toward himself as if he were trying to hide it.

Steve stared at him for a few seconds before he handed his pencil back.

"Are you sure you don't need it?" Eddie asked, hesitating to take it back.

Steve nodded, digging into the pouch where he kept several pencils. "I'm sure," he said with another big smile before leaning across the aisle again. "You should show me more of your drawings sometime. And hey, it's Eddie, right?"

Eddie's eyebrows furrowed as he nodded. "Yeah."

Steve stuck out his hand and introduced himself, "Steve."

"I know," Eddie replied but he shook his hand nonetheless.

Steve ignored the way the touch made him feel like he suddenly couldn't breathe. Instead, he focused on the way he had already made progress in his game.

-:-:-:-

"Okay, so you flirted with him a little and led him on a bit."

"No," Steve insists, "It was more than just the classroom interactions. I went full-on crazy. I would watch him at lunch and make sure he knew that I was watching. I even changed my route to class to make sure I would bump into him in the hallway. Hell, I went as far as to try to change my locker so it was closer to his." In hindsight, he should've known that was going too far. But in the moment, it felt like he needed to get as close as possible to Eddie Munson.

Robin shifts to tuck her knees to her chest. She looks at him carefully as she asks, "Did you... enjoy seeing him?"

Steve shrugs, not sure what she's getting at.

Robin only frowns slightly before leaning in closer and lowering her voice. "I mean, did you have a crush on him."

"No," Steve says immediately, feeling the same guard come up as it always does when he asks himself the question. Or when someone else has asked him that question...

-:-:-:-

"I swear you like the queer or something," Tommy sneered at the lunch table as Carol laughed loudly.

Steve pulled his eyes away from Eddie and firmly stated, "It's not like that."

"Really? Because you're looking at him like you want to sample whatever the freak will give you."

Steve's hands flexed under the table. He didn't know why he was so angry at the accusation. "It's not like that," Steve repeated lowly.

"Why are you getting so defensive?" Carol asked with a twisted grin.

He knew they were trying to get under his skin about it, and as much as he didn't want to let them know they got to him, he couldn't stand what they were implying. "Fuck you," he said and stormed out of the cafeteria. He could hear Tommy’s and Carol's grating laughter as he left, furthering his damn anger.

He stormed into the bathroom and checked that all the stalls were clear before he sat on the nasty floor and put his head in his hands.

He didn't know why the question got to him so much because it really wasn’t like that. He didn't like Munson. The whole point of getting closer to him was to trick Munson into liking him.

He started to think that maybe that wasn't so funny anymore.

The door to the bathroom opened and shut quickly, a lock twisted and closed Steve in with whoever came in.

He slowly looked up, embarrassed by being caught in this state, but he became even more so when he saw it was Eddie who had followed him.

"You okay?" Eddie's asked gently, keeping his distance.

Steve sighed and leaned his head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. "My friends are assholes."

Eddie snorted in response which caught Steve off-guard. "Sorry," Eddie said with a smile, "It's just that everyone knows that. Or maybe I just especially know that."

"Then why are you here?" Steve asked, but the question sounded a little too harsh even to him.

Eddie shrugged then walked over to Steve and slid down the bathroom wall to join him on the floor. "You've been uncharacteristically kind to me these past few weeks. I couldn't be sure that you weren't in a hostage situation," he joked.

Steve was surprised to find that the joke put him at ease and even made him smile. He smiled further when he saw the way Eddie relished the fact that he cheered him up.

"Hey," Eddie said as he scooted closer to him. "I've got this secret lunch spot where I usually deal, but it's also great if you need a space away from people. I can show it to you tomorrow."

Steve's heart thudded a little harder in his chest at the suggestion, filled with nerves and excitement at the thought of spending actual alone time with Eddie. "I'd really like that."

-:-:-:-

Steve sighs and looks at Robin who he knows would love and support him no matter what feelings he confesses. He breathes out, "Maybe I did like him like that."

Robin gives him a sad smile and rests her hand on his.

"He and I would eat lunch together every Tuesday and Thursday in this little spot in the woods that had a picnic bench and everything. And I started looking forward to those days and when I would pass him in the hall and our class together. God, I just wanted to be around him all the time. He was like my best friend at the time."

"So, what happened?"

Steve pinches his lips together and shakes his head. "I kept leading him on. I would report things to Tommy and Carol and they would laugh at him and call him so many damn names. God, then it spread to the whole basketball team because Tommy can't shut his damn mouth. And they'd do shit like high-five me in the hall. They told me I was doing God's work by making sure Eddie's attention was only on me."

"God, they're such assholes."

Steve nods in agreement and adds, "So am I."

"You've changed, Steve."

Steve shakes his head. "I don't know, Robin."

-:-:-:-

Steve felt high out of his mind lying in Eddie's bed with their fingers intertwined. Only when he was high, he felt like he could touch him like this. He didn't want it to go any further. More like, he was scared of it going any further because he wouldn't know what that meant.

Eddie's head turned to him - his lips only a short distance away from Steve's. He was starting to notice these things more and more around the boy.

"You're different," Eddie commented.

Steve laughed and rolled on his side. "How?"

"Different from anyone I've ever met. Nothing like your asshole friends."

Steve's smile fell from his face at the comment. He was exactly like them; Eddie just didn't know it.

"Why me?" Eddie asked.

Steve glanced up at him. "What do you mean?"

Eddie rolled on his side, shifting even closer to Steve. "Why did you choose to be nice to me? It felt so damn random especially after you practically never looked at me before."

Steve's mouth opened and closed, unsure how to answer. Instead, he opted out and replied, "I don't know."

"Well, I'm glad you noticed me. I don't know what I would do without you at this point."

"Me neither," Steve replied honestly.

-:-:-:-

"I never told him," Steve says, feeling his bottom lip quiver. "God, I wanted to tell him the truth, but I couldn't."

Robin nods. “I don’t blame you, that’s a hard thing to explain to someone.” When Steve doesn’t reply, she presses on, "So, what else happened?"

Steve runs both hands over his face and leans back against the couch, unable to look at Robin anymore. "It was a few weeks before Halloween, so I had been leading him on for two months at that point. We were hanging out almost every day. I almost spent the night sometimes because I was over so late just talking to him. But I never let myself. I knew if I stayed once, I would stay every night if I could. "

"It sounds like you were just being friendly to him. I don't know how he could have misinterpreted it," Robin reasons.

Steve shakes his head. "I wasn't just friendly. I would blatantly flirt sometimes. Shit, I used to leave notes in his locker sometimes and whenever we were alone, I would usually initiate some contact like holding his hand. But when it was late, and I could excuse the touchiness as a form of sleep deprivation, I would lay in bed with him, and we would just stare at each other. Sometimes, I let my hands wander in his hair, over his face, down his arms basically anywhere he'd let me."

Robin lets a deep breath out and pauses before asking, "Did you ever do more than that?"

Steve shakes his head but pinches his nose sharply. He has to own up to it. "Fuck," he sighs burying his head in his hands. "Yes, we did more than that but only one time."

-:-:-:-

Steve didn't remember why he was laughing; Eddie just kind of pulled it out of him at times. Besides, it was also late, and they both tended to get a bit giggly during the early AMs.

Eddie stopped laughing suddenly, so Steve turned to him and asked, "What?"

Eddie just shook his head in response and turned to stare at the ceiling looking suddenly stoic.

Steve rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his arm to stare down at Eddie. "Come on, tell me what's going on in that pretty little head of yours."

Eddie looked him directly in the eye and said, "That."

Steve shook his head and tried not to stare at Eddie's lips.

"You," Eddie tried again. "Do you mean what you say?"

Steve's heart thudded in his chest. "I don't know what you mean," he lied.

Eddie's hand shook as it made its way up to cup his cheek. "Yes, you do. Just tell me if I'm reading this wrong."

He was reading it absolutely wrong, but fuck, he was reading him absolutely right. So, Steve didn't think. He just leaned down and gently kissed Eddie before he pulled back with a shaky breath to say, "You're not reading this wrong."

Eddie pulled him in again, kissing him. Steve groaned into the kiss, feeling lightning practically spread through his body at the sensation. God, it felt so damn right.

Steve quickly moved until his body was on top of Eddie's pressing into him at all the right places as they both deepened the kiss. Steve knew he wasn't supposed to be enjoying it, but he pushed the thought and guilt away.

-:-:-:-

Steve wipes the tear away from his cheek and takes a deep breath. "I wasn't thinking. And I made it so much worse."

"Shit," Robin whispers, hugging her knees tightly.

"After, I freaked the fuck out. I had this whole breakdown, and Eddie was trying so hard to understand. He thought I was just having this sexuality crisis, which I admittedly was, but I was mainly concerned about if Eddie ever found out if it was all a damn joke."

"It wasn't a joke to either of you, Steve. You would've never gone that far if it was," Robin insists, hand landing gently on Steve's shoulder.

Steve flinches away from her. "But it was all rooted in a joke."

"Fuck," Robin says with wide eyes, "Steve, please tell me you didn't tell Tommy or anyone."

In his heart, he knows that's the only good decision he made. "I didn't."

Robin breathes a sigh of relief. "Thank god."

"But what I did was maybe worse in hindsight."

"How?" Robin asks, sounding horrified.

-:-:-:-

Steve walked through the halls on autopilot. He couldn't get any sleep the night before. It felt damn near impossible after his night with Eddie.

"Steve buddy!" Tommy said loudly, clapping a rough hand on his back. "How's the freak treating you?"

Steve shook his head and said, "It's over."

Tommy walked in front of him and stopped him. "Woah there. You look like you've seen a damn ghost or something. What did the freak do to you? Did he try to kiss you or some shit?" Tommy asked with a sick smile on his face.

"No," Steve stated and looked around the halls before he leaned in and said, "But I found out he's a Satanist. Like he does full-on rituals and shit."

"No fucking way!" Tommy yelled excitedly, ready to spread the rumor like wildfire.

"Yeah," Steve said. "I don't think he's queer though."

"I'm surprised," Tommy laughed. "He looks at you like you're his bitch sometimes."

"Just into Satanic shit," Steve insisted.

Tommy got a wild look in his eye. "Maybe we should include that in the basketball hazing this year. First student to witness one of his rituals gets a damn prize."

"Sure," Steve shrugged it off. "Bet it would scare that new guy Jason shitless."

-:-:-:-

"Oh fuck," Robin says, putting her hands over her mouth in shock.

"I practically started the whole fucking manhunt with that damn rumor. I just thought it wouldn't be as bad as people finding out he was gay. And I somehow thought it would convince people that nothing happened between me and him," Steve confesses.

"Okay," Robin says, staring off into space before shifting on the couch toward Steve. "Okay, you didn't start the manhunt. And Tommy's the one who spread the rumor, and Jason is the one who took it too far."

"But Eddie would've graduated senior year if it wasn't for me."

Robin's brows furrow as she shakes her head. "Wait what? How's that related?"

Steve runs a hand through his hair. "I ended things the day the rumor spread. But I was such a fucking asshole about it, Robin. God, you're going to hate me."

"Why would I hate you?"

"Because it was a Tuesday. And instead of joining Eddie outside, I stayed with Tommy and Carol, looking around to find some girl to use to get over Eddie. Then, I spotted a girl with curly hair and big eyes that reminded me of him..."

"Nancy," Robin fills in for him.

Steve nods. "She was my fucking rebound."

-:-:-:-

Steve didn't eat lunch that day. He wasn't hungry. He felt fucking sick to his stomach as he looked around the cafeteria, wondering if Eddie would walk in at any moment looking for him.

His eyes caught on curly hair, but realized it was too light to belong to Eddie. He leaned to the side and caught eyes with Nancy Wheeler. He shot her a wink before going back to pushing his food around his tray. It didn't make him feel better.

In his last class with Eddie, he sat at the very front of the room, hating the view from there and the way people kept staring at his obvious seat change. He ducked his head when Eddie walked in late and took his seat in the back.

He didn't take a single note that day. He could feel Eddie's eyes practically burn holes in the back of his head.

The bell was the only thing that gave Steve relief that day, and he basically sprinted his way out of the building to his car. But he cursed as he dug around his backpack unable to find his damn keys.

"Dropped these," Eddie's voice said behind him.

Steve turned to him slowly and didn't make eye contact as he reached for the keys.

Eddie snatched them back. "Why are you being weird? Is this because of what happened last night?"

"Nothing happened last night," Steve insisted, lowering his voice so no one could hear him.

Eddie's pained expression broke Steve's heart immediately. "Nothing?"

"Nothing," Steve repeated. "And nothing will ever happen again, got it?"

"Steve-"

"I'm doing this for you," Steve lied.

Eddie saw right through him as he always did. "No, you're fucking not."

"Eddie-"

"Is this freak bothering you, Steve?" Tommy said, suddenly rushing to his side.

"No, I was just leaving," Eddie said, turning to stalk away.

Tommy snorted at the sight and leaned into Steve's side to ask, "You're sure he's not gay?"

"Shut up, Tommy," Steve said, pinching his nose as he got into his car.

-:-:-:-

"He started skipping classes after that. Shit, I practically never saw him in our English class. And he started taking a different route in the halls. God, I missed him so fucking bad." Steve looks down at his hands, flexing in anger at his past mistakes. "He skipped so often that they made him repeat senior year. The next year, we saw each other once when I was with Nancy, and after that it was like I never saw him again. Once again, he skipped and failed. If he would've graduated when he was supposed to, he wouldn't be in this damn mess. Fuck, he would still be alive."

"He's still alive, Steve."

Steve snaps, "Is he really? The doctor told us that he may never wake up, Robin. What if he never wakes up? What if I can never tell him this?" A small part of Steve wonders what would happen if he did wake up. Would he actually tell him?

Steve shakes his head. He doesn't know, but he knows he can't lose him again. It hurt so damn much the first time; he couldn't do it again. "You know how I always say I have no idea what I want?"

Robin nods.

"I've lied. I know exactly what I want, and he's laying in that damn hospital bed. I thought maybe I could find someone like him, but I can't Robin. No matter how many dates I go on, no one is like Eddie."

Robin moves closer to him and wraps her arms around him.

Steve feels more tears trail down his face as he leans into Robin. "You know, in the upside down, he gave me this bullshit speech about how I've changed, and I'm actually a good dude. Then, he told me something about how I should get Nancy back and it was like a damn dagger in my heart. He told me that she dove right into that water and he wouldn't have done the same in normal circumstances. As if he was trying to tell me that I was right to choose Nancy over him. It's such bullshit."

Robin doesn't say anything, just pulls him in tighter.

"He has to wake up, Robin. He has to," Steve wipes his eyes and stands up. "But we have to get back to that hospital, okay? I'll tell you eventually why I can't leave his side, but I just can't today."

Robin nods and stands up. "Let's go then."

-:-:-:-

"If you died today, would you have regrets?"

Steve laughed. "That's such a random question."

Eddie smiled up at him. "Come on, answer the question."

Steve knew that he would have too many regrets to ever be able to list. But he asked, "Would I die right here, right now?"

Eddie shrugged. "Sure."

"If I died with you at my side, then I think I would have no regrets. What about you?"

Eddie smiled up at him sincerely, considering the question for a few moments. "As long as you were by my side, I would be okay."

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic #stranger things #robin buckley

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woso-dreamzzz · 13 days

Text

Visit II

Fridolina Rolfö x Child!Reader

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You go to a Barcelona match

With Momma and Morsa in Madrid and you in Barcelona, Frido takes you to one of her games. Or, her team’s game because she’s got a little injury that keeps her off the squad for the week so she sits up in the box with you.

It’s not your first time at one of moster Frido’s games but it’s your first time at a Barcelona game. You like the jersey, you decide. It’s blue which is a Not-Wolfsburg colour but it’s also got red and that’s an Arsenal colour. The badge is cool too and you decide that Arsenal can be your English team and Barcelona can be your Spanish team like how Wolfsburg is your German team and Linköping is your Swedish team because that’s where Momma and Morsa first met.

Moster Frido isn’t playing today so you wear an Ingrid jersey instead. She’s starting today and, strangely, so is Mapi. That confuses you a little but you figure with Frido injured that Barcelona don’t have enough defenders to go around.

“It’s nice that Ingrid lets Mapi play with her,” You say as the whistle blows for the first half to begin,” Ingrid’s a good girlfriend.”

Frido laughs. “Don’t ever change, little monster,” She says. You don’t understand what’s funny but you assume it’s an adult thing that you’re still too little to know about.

Barcelona, you think, are much better than Arsenal. Not that Arsenal isn’t good but Barcelona is a lot more organised. They always know where each other are and they’re playing this first half like they actually know how to play football rather than having to settle into it like Arsenal do.

You cheer when Mapi passes the ball off to Ingrid, who weaves through the other team and passes it off to someone else. You don’t really remember much about the Barcelona team from the final against Not-Wolfsburg, not really. You don’t really know the players well but you know you’ll learn.

You’re good at learning. Morsa says it’s a good skill to have.

The person in goal is called Paños and you mark that in your brain because she’s very good. You prefer Zećira obviously but you think v is really good too and you want to watch a few more matches with her.

Barcelona scores while you think about it, some girl with Guijarro on her back.

The crowd goes wild, as does another little girl in the box. She’s wearing a Guijarro jersey like how you’re wearing an Engen one. She goes absolutely crazy. She waves a little flag and jumps up and down in joy.

“That’s little Nat,” Moster Frido says in her ear,” She’s Patri’s cousin.”

“Who’s Patri?”

Frido laughs. “The girl who just scored.”

Little Nat, as moster Frido calls her, keeps cheering and jumping around. You smile at that. That’s how you react when Momma scores.

“Do you want to go say hi?” Frido asks you and you think about it for a moment.

You could go say hi but you just move a bit closer to Frido, suddenly feeling shy. “I don’t speak Spanish,” You whisper to her.

“That’s okay,” She says,” Little Nat speaks some English too. She’s very nice.”

You think about it again but the shy feeling doesn’t go away. “Maybe later.”

“Okay,” Frido says,” Later then.”

You settle more firmly at her side, though your eyes track Little Nat all the way back to her seat. You think, if you were a little braver and you spoke Spanish, you would talk to her. But you’re shy and you don’t speak Spanish so you don’t.

You focus back on the match and watch as Mapi makes a very good save for someone that doesn’t play football. It’s nice that she’s come out to support Ingrid and is on the pitch even though her job is to get tattoos and be a good girlfriend.

Every time you tell Frido that, she laughs and cuddles you nice and close in amusement.

The match ends with a very impressive score line for Barcelona and you cheer like everyone else when it’s over.

Frido takes you down onto the pitch.

Little Nat from earlier is there too, with her parents – though she abandons them to sprint to her cousin who scored the goal earlier.

You end up with Mapi and Ingrid. “Hi, Ingrid! Hi, Mapi!” You chirp, giving them both big hugs.

“Is that my jersey?” Ingrid teases and you nod.

“Uh-huh! It’s so cool! I like Barcelona.”

“That’s great!” Ingrid high fives you and you giggle.

You turn to Mapi. “It’s nice that Ingrid let you play with her. Say thank you, Mapi.”

“Ingrid didn’t let me play with her!” Mapi says,” This is my job! I play football!”

You give her a weird look. “Playing in the park isn’t the same as playing on the pitch,” You tell her,” But you’re a very good girlfriend for helping Ingrid on the pitch today. If you keep practicing really hard then maybe you can join a proper team one day too.”

“Guys!” Mapi complains,” Come on, help me out here! Tell her I’m a footballer!”

Ingrid and Frido are too busy laughing at Mapi’s outrage to help her out.

You’re insistent on your view that Mapi exists to get tattoos and be Ingrid’s girlfriend. There’s no way she’s a footballer and you refuse to accept any other alternative except maybe that her job is feeding the stray cats in the neighbourhood. That could be her job too.

Her cat, Bagheera, is very sweet. You think you might want a cat when you’re older though you think you also want a puppy too. You don’t know if they can live in the same house but you hope so because you like both cats and dogs.

You know Morsa doesn’t want any pets right now but you do so you’ll try to convince her to let you have a pet when you go back to London. That gives you enough time to think of a plan to convince her.

“Hey,” Mapi says,” Did you go and talk to Little Nat during the match? I think you’d really get on with her.”

You shake your head. You spare a glance over your shoulder at her. She’s on her feet now, her cousin having put her down but still keeps holding her hand. She’s staring back at you with a smile and waves.

You wave back to be polite but still feel a little shy and duck to hide behind Frido’s legs.

“Someone's a little shy,” Frido says to Mapi, looking down at you,” But that’s okay. I’m sure they can make friends another time.”

(You never get to make friends with Little Nat as a child but, one day, you make a girlfriend and then a wife of Talia).

“Next time then,” Mapi says,” I’m serious. I think you and Little Nat will be great friends one day.”

You peak out from Frido’s legs.

Little Nat is still looking at you. She waves again and you wave back before you spot someone off to the side.

You gasp and grab Frido’s hand, pulling her with you.

“It’s Caro!”

Caro is standing by the water cooler, drinking from a bottle but she turns at the sound of her name. She spots Frido, who indicates downwards to where you’re dragging her over.

Caro lets a small smile appear on her face and she drops into a crouch right as you barrel into her arms. There’s something about you being older now that puts Caro at ease. She remembers when you were just a tiny baby and how scared she was to drop you.

It’s harder to drop you now and Caro’s much more comfortable. Her arms wrap around your little body and you hug her back so tightly that she’s a little shocked at how much strength is in your tiny body.

“Hi, Caro!” You say, panting from how quickly you go to her side.

“Hello, y/n.”

“You played so good!” You tell her,” Just like at Wolfsburg! You score so much! You’re so cool, Caro!” You chatter on and on about Caro’s two earlier goals.

Caro nods along to you and Frido only pulls you away when you start yawning, completely shattered by your long day in the sun.

“Alright, little monster,” She says,” Say goodbye to Caro then we’ll say bye to Ingrid and Mapi. We need to head home.”

You whine but do as you’re told, giving a hug to Caro before running off to do the same with Ingrid and Mapi.

You’re practically asleep by the time Frido straps you into your car seat. You keep yawning and your head lulls to the side. It’s adorable and Frido snaps a quick picture, sending it off to Pernille and Magda, who she knows are eagerly awaiting an update from her after the game.

#woso x reader #fridolina rolfö x reader #fridolina rolfö #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon #ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #the big adventures universe

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itsbecomeblue · 22 days

Text

airport crush ellie williams drabble

cw: none?? js cuteness and v poor writting

u are both coming back for school after spring break?? she had missed her childhood friends and dad... for u, u js wanted to take ur summer clothes to uni.

this cute girl stares at u in line for the boarding... are u actually gonna be sitting in the same plane as her? she might faint!!! mmm she's staring and u can feel her green eyes burning the back of your neck so u turn around and she TRIES to be subtle and look somewhere else. u fucking grin, she's lowkey scared of u... u are sooo pretty!!! someone help her!!!

u are both getting on the plane and she doesn't know if she wants u to sit next her or if that's the last thing she wants... but naturally, since u are soooo lucky u got sat in the front line next to an arrogant lil man and his teenage son. how lovely!!! ellie on the other hand, got sat next to A MOTHER W A BABY??? god it was boutta be a flight.

when u looked around, she looked at u as if ud known each other for ages and mouthed "save me" so u mouthed "save ME" god u hadn't even said hi to each other, she was embarrassed but... u went along w it so.

u were thinking, and sure the mother was comfortable back there but u remembered when ur aunt had ur cousin she asked to sit at the front lines. when ellie saw u getting up her eyes shined, like actually, she looked like an anime character right there. u fought ur awkwardness and started talking to the mother sat next to ellie.

"excuse me, would u wanna sit in first line? there's much more space for u and ur baby's stuff. u'd probably be way more comfortable." oh, u were such a sweetheart, ellie is inlove w u already.

the lady actually took the offer. she thanked u and gave u a lil shoulder caress. u both exchanged seats and well everyone's happy i guess!

not everyone, ellie's scared.

she's sat next to this sweet caring selfless girl, who happens to be soooo sooo soooooo pretty. she's terrified and she thinks she might be feeling more than js butterflies in her stomach.

"hi..." she mutters. "saved us both right there."

"sure did." u smiled, putting ur seat belt on, she forgot those... she started putting it on immediately. u chuckled and told her ur name.

"that's pretty, i'm williams, i mean, i'm ellie williams. mmm erm, just ellie." she, is, adorable.

"that's real long and pretty." she dropped her head in embarrassment. "where are u going, ellie?"

she coughed and started talking about going back to college and u kinda yelled "same!", bro why was this convo the most embarrassing ever?(,#&@&@ turns outtttttt u went to the same college!!! wowza...

"no way." she deadpaned.

"yes way, ellie..." u giggled and so did she.

u 2 talked ab ur majors and shit, nothing crazy but ellie was js so cutesy likeeee omg she's so awkward she's kind of a nerd :((( she tried acting cool tho but u were js so pretty and nice she got shy.

she couldn't believe u actually fell asleep while u 2 watched the exact same movie on ur tiny screens... 30m in. she had js met u and she got the honor of seeing u peacefully sleeping. u were outrageously embarrassed when u woke up at the end of the flight tho.

ellie asked for ur number before u even left the plane, thinking you'd would say goodbye then. but... u still had to go all the way out of the airport and grab a taxi. it was awkwardly silent, saying bye and walking side by side for like 6 minutes before she got closer and said "i guess not goodbye." what kind of sentence is that???

u talked ab music and u found out ellie played guitar, u were so happy ab it?? she didn't get why but she felt cool and mentioned she had her own songs and u beggedddddd to listen to them. bro she js thought u were so attractive SOMEONE SHOOT HERRRRR RN. u thought the exact same... like... u play guitar AND write ur own songs??

talked and talked until u both found a taxi, because when she found one, she decided to leave it for u but u wanted her to have it, so u both idiots let someone else have it and waited till 2 taxis were available??^÷×&*!*@

after getting home u waited for a text from her, dying to hear from her. you got it!!!

#ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x fem reader #lover girl!ellie #ellie imagine #ellie x masc reader

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pianokantzart · 1 year

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YES! GOOD! I’m going to just going to analyze the whole dinner scene, because it’s one of my favorite parts of the movie.

Mario and Luigi walk in, and immediately the whole room lights up to greet them. Despite everything that follows, one thing is clear: The Mario Brothers are happy to see their family, and the family is happy to see them.

The whole family confirms that they watched their commercial. Everyone except their mom insists the commercial was a bad idea, but the fact that they all watched it speaks to the fact that there is no indifference regarding Mario and Luigi’s dream. They’re eager to see where this endeavor leads, even if they think it’s going to end in failure.

The moment Mario and Luigi sit down at the table, their uncles begin laying into them like it’s open season on financially struggling plumbers. Just full blown, no-holds-barred roast mode on their nephews.

Mario is on the defensive, but he doesn’t get angry, he’s just trying to argue his side. Clearly this is typical behavior for Uncle Tony and Uncle Arthur. They’re loud, overly honest, and obnoxiously confident in their opinions. Uncle Arthur, thankfully, has his wife to keep him in check. Uncle Tony, however, who is seated next to poor Luigi, is an absolute menace.

Luigi ignores all the teasing. He is only interested in getting food, but this is not an easy task. Tony’s verbal arguments are all directed at Mario, but Luigi is the one who gets prodded and shoved around, and that makes getting dinner next to impossible.

Luigi attempts to serve himself salad, attempts to ask for a roll, attempts to eat the mushrooms being put on his plate, and at every turn he’s either pushed away or talked over. He is clearly very soft spoken compared to the other men in his family, and never quite had the strength to stand up for himself... after all, everyone means well, they just lack self awareness. It isn’t worth the fight.

Thankfully, Luigi’s mom comes to the rescue, and puts a bowl of soup in front of her boy. She’s the queen of the caretaker role, making sure all the loose ends are tied up and that everybody eats.

But on the flip side, it’s interesting to note that once the uncles start tearing into Mario, Mario’s Dad serves him up a plate of food. He may have just been serving the person next to him because that was the polite thing to do, but I have a theory...

I think that this wasn’t the first night that Mario and his uncles went at each other. I think Mario’s Dad read the room, and figured that if Mario was going to spend dinner playing defense, he should at least remember to eat while doing so.

It also speaks volumes that Mario’s Dad doesn’t voice his disapproval until Mario asks for his opinion. Before then he avoids the subject and lets everyone else do the talking, but so long as he’s being questioned directly, he can’t help but be honest.

“I think... you’re nuts. You don’t quit a steady job for some crazy dream.” This sounds like a voice of experience. Mario’s Dad has the figure of someone who has worked physical labor for a good portion of his life (look the size of those arms). He may have had dreams of his own when he was younger, but he had a wife and kids to worry about, and family took priority.

Speaking of family taking priority: “... and the worst part? You’re bringing your brother down with you.” That settles it. The conversation has gone from a casual roast session to dead serious. The entire room falls quiet as Mario puts down his fork and storms off.

“What’d I say?” Everybody at the table (except the niece, she’s long since checked out) gives Mario’s Dad different versions of the look™. Uncle Tony and Uncle Arthur have the same “Jesus Christ bro, you didn’t have to go there” expression, and Luigi just looks hurt on Mario’s behalf. His Dad, however, is just confused.

He didn’t get the gravity of what he said. His relationship with his own brothers– loudmouthed schmucks who call their own shots – is completely alien to what Luigi and Mario have. He probably knows Mario is protective of Luigi, but he doesn’t realize the depth of responsibility Mario feels for him. Anyone can see that Luigi is loyal to his brother, but Mario alone knows how loyal he is, and the implication that he’s betraying that loyalty is intensely painful.

I doubt Uncle Arthur and Uncle Tony truly relate to Mario and Luigi’s relationship either, but they’ve probably teased Mario enough to understand one thing: bringing Luigi into it is a line you do not cross.

Conclusion:

There is a lot of love in the Mario family.

Uncle Tony and Uncle Arthur are definitely the most insufferable of the bunch, but there is no malice in their teasing. While they are brash and overbearing, it’s all in good fun, and they get visibly uncomfortable when things go too far and someone actually ends up hurt.

Luigi seems to take after his mother; kind, nonconfrontational, and happily invested in a supporting role. While his Mom cares for and assists the family, Luigi cares for and assists his brother, both emotionally and in his business ventures.

Mario, in the meantime, takes after his Dad, who appears to be the oldest of the three brothers. He doesn’t always think before speaking, but he isn’t constantly running his mouth like Arthur or Tony, and acts with the gravity of someone who bears a lot of responsibility. He doesn’t quite “get” his sons, but he knows enough to see that Luigi follows his brother everywhere, and Mario does not always think before jumping into things. Despite what Mario may believe, his Dad doesn’t see him as a “joke” so much as he sees him as an impulsive young man who doesn’t grasp the consequences of his actions. But Mario does understand the consequences of his actions, he just dreams big, and... thanks to Luigi... actually has the support he needs to pursue those dreams.

#mario movie #mario movie spoilers #super mario brothers movie #Luigi #Mario #Not Art #mario commentary #This got a lot longer than I thought it would #There were a lot of thoughts #Super Mario Brothers #Long Post

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sunkissed-zegras · 3 months

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✮ 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐩, 𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 | jack hughes

♡ ─ word count | 3.8k

♡ ─ summary | when you and jack had parted ways, somehow you both knew you'd meet again somehow.

♡ ─ warnings | second chance romance!! slight angst (nothing too crazy), fluffy as fuck!!! jack being a cutie patootie, bsf x luke hughes cus why not???? mention of drinking/bars but that should be it.

♡ ─ taglist | | @dancerbailey3 @valluvsu @daisysnhl @dasiysthings @iminlovewithtz11 @literatureluster @lvrzegras @lxvleyzoe @bowen-power @ru-kru @jackhughesily @hearts-for-luke

♡ ─ ev's notes | okay, so this started off as sweeter than fiction fic but slowly turned into an invisible string fic, but its okay. they both slay and lowkey work well together!!

No matter how hard you tried to forget Jack, you never could.

The moment you both laid eyes on each other, each of you knew it was game over for everyone else. Everyone else was merely everybody else, and the other was just the one. From the first hello to the last goodbye, there was a connection neither of you could fathom.

Jack was more than just your first love or your first everything, he soon became the key to solving all your problems and the keeper of all your secrets. He was the funniest and kindest person you knew, no matter how long you'd been together. That never changed, even after you two parted ways.

It's been almost three years since you seperated but you can still how he made you feel, and all his favorite things: how he liked his coffee, what side of the bed he slept, his favorite soda and how to cheer him up. However, if someone had asked you where he was now, you couldn't tell them.

Well, not necessarily. You knew he plays some NHL team and he was doing what he's always loved, that's all you knew for sure. Some things never change, you guess.

Sometimes, you would wonder if he ever thought of you. Were you just a passing thought or a lasting memory? Did he remember everything or did he forget it? Those questions kept you up at night. But, at the end of the day, you realized that you were happy for him because he was out there, pursuing his dreams. Even if you weren't in those stands, wearing his jersey cheering him on, like he'd always promised.

──

"A hockey game?" You repeated, staring at your best friend Brie. She shook her head, a big smile on her face.

"My friend got tickets a few months ago but he got covid, so he gave them to me. And I knew you were a fan of hockey, so why not?" Brie explained as she leaned back into the couch.

"Not really-"

"Well you grew uo in Ontario so that makes you a hockey fan by association. You're going, end of discussion." Brie sighed exasperatedly, feigning annoyance as a smile enveloped your face. You had no choice now, you had to go.

You couldn't help but chuckle at Brie's determination. She always had a way of roping you into things, and this time was no exception. Despite your initial reluctance, the prospect of attending a hockey game stirred a sense of excitement within you.

A few days later, you found yourself growing curious about the experience. Memories of watching hockey matches with your family in Ontario flooded back, reminding you of the excitement that accompanied each game. One memory stuck out to you, you couldn't remember much but you do remember the warm feeling of his jacket and how your heart was beating- No, no. Focus on the now, Y/N. You reminded yourself as you forced yourself out of your head.

You navigate your way through the big arena and you both finally found your seats, settling in as the game was beginning. Settling into your seat, you let yourself soak in the atmosphere, the sights and sounds of the arena becoming a backdrop to your thoughts and emotions.

The players take to the ice and the game begins, you find yourself swept up in the thrill of the moment. The cheers of the crowd fill the air, each goal and save met with loud applause and excitement. You missed this.

"Y/N, look! That's the one I was telling you about, the one who followed me. Isn't he cute?" Brie spoke with a warm blush on her face, pointing out a number 43. You nodded, watching him glide.

He looked slightly familiar but you couldn't place it. "Wait... Is that why we're here, Brie?"

"What? No. What do you mean? What?" Brie's blush spread to her entire face as she let out a giggle, a telltale sign of her lying. You shook your head with a laugh, of course there was an ulterior motive to coming here.

She let out a sigh and then continued, "Okay fine. He invited me to the game, with free tickets. You wouldn't say no either, alright?"

"Yeah, free tickets are free tickets." You shrugged with another laugh. "Is he cute?"

"You'll see, he told me to come to the bar after the game."

"And I have to come?" You sighed, leading back into the uncomfortable seat of the stands.

"Don't sound too excited, Y/N." She teased as you rolled your eyes playfully. "He has a cute brother and I heard the captain is hot, so... you won't be third wheeling entirely."

"Okay, fine. But what if they aren't cute?"

"This is hockey, babe, there is a very low chance of that happening." Brie said with a big grin as you laughed. That was true, they all happened to be very cute.

With each passing minute, the anticipation grew, fueled by the idea of meeting Brie's acquaintance and his friends. Despite your initial hesitation, there was an undeniable curiosity about what the night held in store.

As the final buzzer sounded and the game drew to a close with another win for the Devils, you found yourself caught between anxious anticipation and excitement. The promise of a post-game gathering lingered in the air, pulling you into its orbit with a magnetic force you couldn't resist.

Brie quickly took you out of your trance, grabbing your hand to rush to the bar. As you entered the busy bar, the atmosphere was electric, pulsating with the excitement of post-game celebration. The air was thick with the scent of beer and sweat as you nervously walked beside Brie to find her friend.

She pulled your sleeve and pointed to a curly-head in the distance before whispering, "That's him."

"Whoa, he's tall."

"I know." She whispered back dreamily as she stared before walking towards him, a confident smile on her face whilst you followed her.

He turned around and your eyes widened. He was familiar, you knew exactly who he was. Luke Hughes, Jack's little brother. Instant regret hit you as you hoped and prayed he wouldn't remember you.

Thankfully, he looked right at Brie with a huge grin. "Oh, hey. Glad you could make it."

He leaned in for a hug and your eyebrows rose, they were already on hugging terms? As they pulled apart, his gaze moved to you and his features changed into a knowing one. You plastered on the best smile you could and silently prayed he didn't remember you.

"Y/N?"

Shit.

But that wasn't Luke's voice, you turned your head to the side to see him. "Jack?"

As the name escaped his lips, your heart skipped a beat, the world around you seeming to slow to a crawl. Time seemed to stand still as you locked eyes with him, the familiarity of his gaze stirring a whirlwind of emotions within you. His blue eyes boring into yours, your heart racing.

In that moment, the weight of the past crashed over you like a tidal wave, memories flooding back with clarity. The sound of his smooth voice, the warmth of his sweet gaze—it was as if no time had passed at all, as if you were transported back to a time when the world was simpler, when your love felt like an unbreakable bond.

For a moment, the world fell away, leaving only the two of you locked in a silent exchange that spoke volumes to only the two of you. Memories of your shared past flooded back, the laughter, the tears, the love that had once bound you together, all laid bare in the space between you.

Jack's expression softened, a flicker of recognition dancing in his eyes as he took in your features. It was as if time itself had stood still, freezing this moment in eternity, the echoes of your past reverberating through the air like a haunting melody.

"Jack, buddy, you're about to spill the drinks." Luke's voice drew both of you out of your trance and back into the present moment and out of your head.

"Yeah, um, sorry. Here." Jack nodded to his brother and handed him the beer as you stared back at him, a troubled expression plastered on your face.

As Jack handed the beer to Luke, the brief interlude allowed a moment of reflection from the intensity of the small exchange. The tension lingered between you, a reminder of the emotions simmering under the surface.

You struggled to find the words to break the silence, the weight of your past weighing heavy on your heart. Each passing moment seemed to stretch into eternity, the air thick with anticipation and uncertainty.

Finally, Jack turned back to you, his gaze searching, as if looking for answers to questions left unasked. The troubled expression on your face mirrored the emotions swirling in you, a storm of conflicting feelings that threatened to engulf you both.

"I... It's been a while," Jack began, his voice hesitant, the words hanging in the air between you like a delicate thread.

"Yeah, it has," you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper. The memories of your shared past lingered like a ghost, haunting the space between you with their silent presence.

Luke looked a Brie with a knowing look, taking her hand warmly and glancing between you and Jack. "I think me and Brie are gonna get some drinks, we'll be right back."

Before anyone could reject, Luke pulled away your best friend to the bar and she turned around with a sympathetic smile and a shrug. You cursed the younger Hughes as you sighed. Now you have to face Jack alone, without the comfort of your best friend.

You and Jack once again found each other's gaze, staring into each other's eyes with warmth and recognition. His eyes were still as blue as you left them but he looked more mature, facial hair growing on his chin and his hair a little longer but you thought it suited him. But he still has the boyish charm to him, the thing that made you fall for him in the first place. His mouth curved up into a small smile as he watched you observe him.

"How've you been?" His voice echoed and that was another that hadn't changed. You had forgotten his voice on the course of the couple years of separation, you forgot how sweet and smooth it was.

"I've been..." You trailed off, not knowing what to exactly. "I've been good. You?" You settled for a simple answer, not knowing exactly where you stood yet.

"Can't complain." He responded with a shrug, take a sip of his beer. Silence once again filled the space between you as you gazed at each other.

In the absence of words, your gaze held a conversation of its own. The warmth and recognition in Jack's eyes mirrored the emotions swirling within you. For a moment, it was like you were seeing him for the first time again—his features bathed in the soft glow of recognition, his smile warm in the rest of world's darkness. The years had etched lines of experience onto his face, sculpting the contours of his features into something familiar yet different.

And yet, beneath the surface, there remained a sense of familiarity—a connection that defied the time itself and the hurts of the past. It was a reminder of the depth of your shared history, the moments that had shaped you into the people you had become.

You couldn't help but wonder what thoughts raced through his mind, what memories stirred beneath the surface. Did he too feel the weight of the past, the pull of unfinished stories waiting to be told?

"You grew your hair out." He stated softly as he examined your new look. "It looks good."

"Looks like you did, too." You smiled softly and he let out a warm laugh, and it was infectious. The memories, rushed back into your mind at the happy sound and your stomach did a flip. Another thing that hadn't changed, the sweet sound of his laugh.

"Yeah, that's what hockey does to a guy." He explained, his eyes glowing beneath the warm light of bar.

You chuckled, a mixture of emotions swirling within you. "Guess it comes with the territory. You always did love the game."

Jack's gaze softened, a flicker of sentimentality in his eyes. "Yeah, some things just never change, I guess. Hockey's been a constant in my life and I don't think I'll ever stop."

The shared memories of watching games together, the thrill of victories, and the hurt of defeats lingered in the air, connecting you both in a shared history that time hadn't erased.

"I remember how you used to explain the rules to me, as if I was clueless," you teased, a playful glint in your eye.

Jack laughed, the sound a symphony of familiarity. "Hey, but you caught on quick. Besides, it was a good excuse to spend time together."

The mention of spending time together cast a gentle shadow over the present moment, a reminder of the shared past that had once been the foundation of your connection. The complexities of life had woven a tapestry of experiences, leading you both on separate journeys, yet the threads of your history remained intertwined.

"But hey, the hair suits you," you replied, your voice soft with sincerity. Despite the years that had passed, there was a sense of ease in the way you spoke to each other, as if no time had elapsed at all.

Before he could respond, you were suddenly pushed from the back and flew right into the arms. You were shocked and turned around to see a drunk man stumbling. Suddenly, Jack's arm twisted around your shoulder, a protective stance.

"Shit, sorry." He slurred before walking away into the crowd.

The sudden proximity between you sent a jolt of awareness coursing through your veins, the closeness igniting a spark of familiarity that lingered in the air like electricity.

As the chaos of the moment subsided, the realization of how close you two had been struck you with a sudden clarity, leaving your cheeks warm and your heart racing. You both stared into each other's eyes before Jack spoke softly. "Let's go somewhere quieter, yeah?"

With a nod of agreement, you instinctively reached for his hand, fingers intertwining in a silent pact as he led you through the crowd and out into the cool night air. The sounds of the bar faded into the distance, replaced by the soft murmur of the night.

He let go your hand, the cool night air hit the warm area that his hand once was. He gazed out into the night as you looked to the side of his face, a warm feeling filling your body in spite of it being cold outside.

"So, you play on the same team as Luke?" You spoke, breaking the silence between you two.

His lips curved into a smile as he nodded, "Yeah, isn't that funny? We always talked about playing together again but it's cool that we can actually do that now."

You couldn't help but marvel at the twist of fate that brought them together again. The bond between Jack and Luke was woven with shared memories and childhood dreams, all coming true.

"It's amazing how things come full circle," you remarked, a small smile playing on your lips.

"Yeah and Quinn's finally got the captaincy, it's perfect." Jack continued. He looked happy and content with the way things were turning out with his career and his family, it made you happy seeing him happy. "What about you? Anything exciting?" He turned his attention to you, his blue eyes gazing into yours.

You smiled. "Not as much as you, definitely. But I'm about to graduate and get an apartment, all by myself up in New York. Found the perfect one yesterday and I'm driving up there to see it."

"Just like you always wanted, huh?" Jack's smile grew at that. He was comforted knowing that you hadn't changed too much and you were still same old you, despite how many years that had passed.

"Yeah, it's right in the middle of the city, with windows everywhere so I can watch the city move."

Like you had always wanted, Jack thought in his mind with a big smile. "So we are both chasing our dreams, then?"

"Yeah, something like that." You laughed and he joined along. The warmth of his laughter filled your lungs and you felt like you were out of breath just by laughing along with him. It was perfect. The laughter had died down and you both still were locked in gaze.

For a moment, it was as if the world had faded away, leaving only the two of you suspended in the quiet intimacy of the night. The warmth of Jack's presence enveloped you like a comforting embrace, grounding you in the present moment amidst the chaos of the world.

His smile slowly dropped as he kept looking into your eyes. "Why'd we ever break up?"

The bluntness of the question had taken you aback. And you started thinking back to why you broke up. As you searched for an answer, the weight of the past pressed down upon you, a heavy burden that threatened to consume you whole. The reasons for your breakup lingered on the edges of your consciousness, fragments of half-forgotten truths waiting to be unearthed.

You were moving away to college and he was getting into the NHL, the only logical way to go about this about was to break up. Long distance wouldn't have worked and plus, you were both growing up and getting into new worlds, you didn't want him worrying about you while he was out there, pursuing his dreams.

But deep down, you knew that the choices you had made had led you to where you were now, standing face to face with the echoes of your past and the possibilities of the future. The memory of your break-up was clear in your mind, with all the anger and resentment both of you had in that one moment. But something you had said suddenly stuck out to you, "If we are meant to be, we will."

And we did. You thought to yourself as you stared into Jack's eyes. "We were both growing up and moving away, and I-I guess... I didn't wanna burden you."

Jack's expression softened. "Burden me?"

Silence filled the air once again but this time, you felt embarrassed. How could that have led to the break-up? It seems so small but it felt so big before, like it was the end of the world.

"Yeah," you admitted, your gaze dropping for a moment before meeting Jack's eyes again. "I was worried about holding you back, about becoming a distraction when you had this incredible opportunity in front of you. I thought breaking up was the right thing to do, to give you the freedom to chase your dreams without any restraints."

Jack's expression softened, his eyes reflecting understanding. "Y/N, you could never be a burden to me," he replied softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "We were in it together, remember?"

"I'm sorry, Jack," you whispered, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air. "I... I wish things had been different."

He immediately shook his head and slowly took your hand. "Don't apologize. If things had been different you don't know how that would've worked out, but right now, everything that led us here is perfect." He said sternly as you nodded slowly.

With a nod of agreement, you allowed his words to seep into the depths of your heart, a gentle reminder that the journey you had embarked upon together with twists and turns but ultimately, it had led you to this moment and that was enough.

"I believe that too," you whispered, your voice tinged with hope and conviction. "Every step we took, every choice we made, brought us here, to this moment."

Jack's gaze softened, his eyes reflecting a depth of emotion that mirrored your own. "We found each other again for a reason, don't you think?"

You nodded softly as you gazed back at him, warmth filling your whole body. Before you could answer, you felt a buzz in your pocket and sighed. You were ripped away from this perfect moment and back to reality. You took your phone out and saw the caller ID: "Brie <3"

You answered it, "Hey, Brie."

"Hey, so where are you? I just remembered I have a 9am lecture tomorrow."

You sighed before shaking your head. Brie and her bad memory, "I'm, uh, outside."

"Great, I'll meet you at the car. We have a lot to debrief tonight."

"Oh yeah, a whole lot." You laughed as you stared back at Jack's face with a warm smile. "'Kay, love you."

"Love you."

She hung up and you were met with Jack's gaze, pulled back into the moment. Again, there was silence before you spoke up. "Well, I gotta go."

"I figured." Jack spoke as a smile curved his mouth.

"I'll... see you, then?" Your voice came out in a quiet whisper as he nodded.

You turned around and started walking before you stopped. You couldn't leave without anything, right? It wouldn't be right. You turned around swiftly with a warm smile. "Umm... when can I see you?"

Jack's eyes lit up at your question, a flicker of excitement dancing in their depths. For a moment, he seemed taken aback by your sudden boldness, but a smile quickly spread across his face, warming the space between you.

Jack's eyes lit up at your question, a genuine smile playing on his lips. "How about tomorrow? We could grab coffee or something, catch up properly."

Your heart skipped a beat at his suggestion, the prospect of spending more time with him filling you with a sense of anticipation and joy. The thought of reconnecting with Jack, of rediscovering the depths of your bond, ignited a spark of hope within your soul.

"That sounds perfect," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

As you exchanged details and finalized the plans, the air buzzed with anticipation. The promise of tomorrow held the potential for new beginnings, a chance to explore the rekindled connection between you and Jack.

As you parted ways, each step carrying you closer to the promise of tomorrow, you couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the chance to rewrite the narrative of your story, to carve out a future filled with forgiveness and the prospect unfulfilled promises you once made, coming true.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

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lilbitdepressed27 · 4 months

Text

Tara Carpenter/Fem!Reader

Summary:blind reader in this one Gale didn't write bad about Sam.

Warnings:…😶

WC: 5.7k

Author’s Note: happy new year y’all. Hope everyone had a good year. Also apologizes in advance for this one. Hope y’all enjoy:D

****~****

After high school you had known that the college life was also going to be hard. It took you forever to know the halls, turns and where your classes were at. It helped that you had your service dog, Scooby. According to your adoptive mom, he was a brown Chesapeake Bay Retriever. Now you had no idea what they looked like but you are positive he was cute. People always tended to gush about him where ever you took him. He had been a great help for you as you adjusted in this new city.

Your mom had been skeptical at first but she knew she had to let you go. She was very protective of you especially after your father was killed. You had been away on a school trip with your class when it had happened. You had only found out about it two days after when your mom personally came to get you from the trip. The trip had been in Alaska, it was supposed to be a two month trip but due to the attacks it was cut short.

The news had devastated you. Especially since you didn't know about it right away, cause of the no cell reception. So it was harder for your mom to reach you. You and your mother had cried for days.

She didn't know how she'd be able to let you move to New York by yourself with Scooby. She wouldn't be able to move on if she lost you or Scooby. She loved that dog, he was such a good boy. They had trained him on some simple commands to help you.

Dewey had helped you teach Scooby the commands.

So with that fear in mind, not only did she move to the city herself, she didn't have it in her to let you leave and live by yourself. But she also had called someone she hasn't spoken to as much as she wanted.

"Gale? Hey it's been awhile."

"Hello Sam, how's it going?"

"Uh pretty good we're settled in and you know Tara's worried about starting school again, she says she's not nervous but I can tell she is. How are you holding up, since you know..."

"Oh you know I'm hanging in there. I was actually calling to ask you for a favor. I completely understand if you can't. I know trust goes a long way for you."

"Gale relax, if it wasn't for you, people would still be dragging my name through the mud. What can I help you with?"

Gale leaned back in her desk chair. She tried so hard to make sure you had stayed out of her life as a reporter. Keeping you a secret from the world was surprisingly easy. Especially if there was crazy psycho trying remake a movie. Dewey and herself had agreed to keeping you a secret. Adopting you was one of her greatest things she could have done. She remembers the day she first saw you, it was a couple months after she found out that she couldn't have kids. Dewey had tried to tell her that it was okay, that they didn't need a kid to be a happy family. But she knew better, they both had wanted a baby in the family.

So they went to a foster home. And that's where they found you, a tiny little girl. You were only baby, a year old to be exact when they saw you walking around crashing into things, walking into walls. They had watched how the other older kids would ignore you. You would babble to get anyone's attention but you'd be ignored. After crashing into a wall once again, they watched how you stood back up with a smile on your face. You had a small ball in your hands but no one to play with. They didn't understand why, until you got closer. Stumbling here and there.

Your soft y/ec eyes had clear white spots in them. Even though they were warned about you, they had fallen in love with you the moment they saw you.

"I have a daughter."

"Oh what? Wow uh congratulations?"

"No I've had her for a while, she's 19." She knew Sam probably didn't believe her.

"Really? Why are you telling me this?"

Gale heard the confusion, but she couldn't follow you every where. So she needed someone to keep an eye on you. Just a safety precaution. Something that could help her keep calm. Making friends was something that didn't come easy for you. Even though you're a bright and happy kid, other people weren't. It never affected you though. Your smile always stayed. 'Life is too short for me to be butt hurt that people don't want to be my friend, I'll be fine mom.' Was something you always said.

"She has this, thing. And I was just hoping you'd kinda just be there for her. She doesn't make friends easily and I know I'm asking a lot but—Gale relax. What's her name?"

~~~~~~******~~~~~~

The day had come. You had recently moved into the studio room with the help of your mom. She had helped remind you where everything was at. Making sure you knew every corner, step, counter in the apartment. It took a while but you got it. Now you could do somethings by yourself. Like bathe (obviously), get yourself dressed (your wardrobe was filled with mostly black clothing), colored clothing was in a different drawer, cook (pb&j's, cup noddle soup, wash dishes) You weren't completely helpless. A life without vision was something you were used to.

"Okay Scooby, how do I lo-" Your phone rang, cutting you off. You turned to the direction of the phone, hearing the nails scrapes of your dog. The phone ring getting closer. You felt the nudge on your knee. Reaching down feeling the cold nose of your dog, taking the phone from him. Siri had been notifying you of who was calling. "Thanks buddy."

"Hi mom."

"Hey honey, listen I called a friend of mine her name is Sam and she's on her way to take you to class-Moom-I know I know but please just give your lady a piece of mind. I swear I'm getting more grey hair. Just please do it for me."

You sighed and nodded. "Okay mom. When is she co-" The sound of the door bell rang throughout the studio. "I thinks she's here."

***

"Wait since when does Gale have a daughter?" Tara asked confused. She had over heard Sam's call with Gale and had wanted to help Gale's daughter. Especially since they'd be going to the same college.

"I don't know, she has a daughter that's your age, lives alone with a dog, apparently doesn't know anyone here cause she just moved here and her name is Y/n. We are going to go pick her up tomorrow."

"Damn. Gale weathers kept her daughter a secret?" The younger carpenter sibling said amazed. She would have never guessed that Gale had a daughter. She had started to wonder what the girl looked like.

Now that she was kept waiting, she was left feeling just a tad bit excited to meet the girl. She wondered if she was like more like Gale or Dewey. Probably a mix of both.

"Who's there." Your hand felt around for the button next to the door. It was intercom that your mom had paid to get installed. It was the best tech that your mom could possibly find.

"Hi Y/n it's Sam, Gale sent me."

"Mom I thinks she's here, uh how do I know I can trus-You can honey, trust me. Sam is a good one."

"Okay. I love you." Your mom returned the term of endearment before hanging up. Your hands felt around for the locks on the door. Unlocking all ten of them. Once finished you opened the door.

Sam stood on the other side, her eyes widening just a bit at the sight of your eyes. Now she understood why Gale wanted someone to watch over you. Tara stood behind her sister, jaw slack as she took you in as well. She had never seen someone so beautiful. She took in your smile as you let Sam in offering your hand that Sam shook. She walked close behind her sister as she watched one of cutest dogs she's ever seen close the door behind her. Her eyes looked into yours. Most of your eye color was covered with a cloudy white color. There was still some color in there but not as much. They were still the most beautiful pair of eyes she has ever seen.

"And you are?" The question was directed to her. It was what snapped her out of her thoughts. Her face felt flushed and warm as you looked in her direction.

You had heard the other set of footsteps when you let Sam in. You could smell the different perfume the person used. It was a smell you liked, never had you smelled something so, beautiful? The person stopped in front of you. You offered a smile and held a hand out.

"T-Tara. I'm Tara Sam's sister." Tara ignored the raised eyebrow directed towards her by her sister. Her face felling hot as she shook your hand. Your hand was much bigger than hers but it was so soft and warm. She wanted to hold on to it forever.

Your ears felt blessed as you took in her voice. It was the most beautiful voice you had ever heard.

"Nice to meet you Tara. This is Scooby. I'm sorry if my mom made you guys co-Hey now we wanted to, now are you ready?" Tara reassured. She didn't want you feeling like they didn't have a choice in the matter. Tara had never been so grateful that Gale trusted them in meeting her daughter. Cause you had to be one of the most beautiful woman she's ever seen.

"Uh yea. I just need my walking stick and my backpack."

At the mention of the backpack the two sisters watched as the dog scurried away towards the living room. Retrieving your backpack from the small coffee table. He had already had his service vest on and he was ready to go. With a smile on your face you took the backpack that had your walking stick. You moved to take it out but a warm hand stopped you.

"I got you, you can hold my elbow." Tara with a blush on as you took her elbow with a smile. She ignored the pointed look from her sister once again. She felt warm all over at the feeling of your soft hand touching her skin. She lead you out the apartment while Sam locked up.

Sam watched how Tara directed where each step was at. Telling you where exactly was the button to call the elevator. Although Sam felt like you already knew where it was at. She watched as you smiled and followed Tara nevertheless. Right before leaving the apartment you had reached for your sunglasses. Covering your eyes, she saw the disappointment in her sister's eyes the second it happened.

Sam couldn't help the small smile, Tara had been different since last year's attacks. But seeing that smile on her face while she spoke to you was something she hoped to see more.

"Okay here's your music class." Tara directed you into the class, there were already some students in the class waiting for the professor to arrive. "Do you wanna sit in the front?" She touched your hand that was still holding the inside of her elbow. She looked up at you, your soft smile on display as you looked down in her direction. Seeing her reflection on your sunglasses. She wished she could see your eyes again.

"Yes please, thank you Tara. I really appreciate you helping me."

The smile she got in return felt like a reward, seeing such a beautiful smile directed her way had Tara feeing like she could just melt to the floor.

"I wanted to. Now here's your recorder, your mom said you like to go back and listen to the lessons. Here, it's the professors textbook she's using this year." Before getting to the class, they had stopped by the library. When she saw the classes you were taking, they took a little detour. Grabbing the textbooks she knew would benefit you more.

"Thank you Tara but I can't exactly see." You said with a teasing smile. Feeling her cheeks warming up, she couldn't help the chuckle that left her lips.

"I know that, but this one you'll like better. I'll see you two after class. Bye." She smiled down at Scooby who had sat on the seat right next to yours, laying his head down on the arm rest.

"We'll see you later, thanks again Tara." You smiled up towards the direction you knew she was standing at. Your heart skipping at beat when you felt her warm hand on top of yours.

"You're welcome. Now I really have to go or else I'll be late to my class."

She left the room soon after. You smiled to yourself. Remembering to call your mom to thank her. Tara sounded so...beautiful. You may be blind but just by her voice you knew she was beautiful. Tara will be a great friend to have around.

Hearing the professor walk in and announce the beginning of his lecture you hit record on your recorder. Taking the book that Tara had gotten for you. Your breath hitching in your throat when your fingers felt over the cover. It was a braille version of the textbook. Your mom had told you that they didn't have braille books for the music course you were taking. But here it was. Noted that it did feel old but nevertheless it was a book you could read. Feeling your eyes watering a bit, no one had been this nice to you, that wasn't family. To go out of their way to do something so kind. Yet Tara did.

Scooby laid his head on your arm. You smiled down at him petting his head. Maybe making friends here wouldn't be so hard.

The weeks that followed had been great for Tara. She had spent most of her days with you. Or you with her at her apartment with the rest of the gang. You and Scooby have become such a great addition to the group. Having you around the apartment had been something that she loved to see.

Since you had been her friend the amount of frat parties she had gone to have been minimum. Choosing to rather be with you and Scooby either at your apartment or hers.

Something that Sam had liked.

Sam had seen the bond between her sister and you grow. The way you with out trying brought out the girl Sam had left behind five years ago. The way Tara was around you was of someone that had no worries. Someone that hadn't gone through almost getting killed. Someone who hadn't been betrayed by someone she loved. Someone who had to kill the one she considered a lover.

Sam could also see how you were around her sister. Tara hadn't been the only one to grow attached. Seeing the way you were around Tara was almost comical. Seeing you both dance around each others feelings was funny. Sam had taken to talking to Gale more often. Telling her about how you were doing. But also about how they were doing as well. The bond between Sam and Gale had grown.

"Hey Sam, how was work?"

She had just gotten back from work to find you and Scooby sitting on the floor of the living room. The way you could just tell who the person was, just by their footsteps was something that Sam had found impressive. She had seen how Chad had tried to sneak up on you but you would always greet him before he had the chance.

"Hey Y/n, it was good what are you guys doing? Where's Tara?"

"Well I'm helping Tara with her homework, well the best I can anyway. And she's in the bathroom." You smiled in the direction of where Sam stood.

"That's good. Any one at school giving you trouble?" Sam had been told by not only the twins but also her sister how they had found a group of frat boys picking on you. Scooby had tried his best to comfort you, not only was he there to help you but he was also there to protect you. Sam had been told by Tara how they had arrived in time to see Scooby biting one of the frat boys. The one that had taken your mobility cane.

"No Scooby scares them away. That or Tara does." You joked earning a laugh from the older Carpenter.

"Good, you know if anyone is bothering you, you can tell me." Sam had been told by your mom how you used to get bullied in high school. You were a sweet kid that didn't deserve to be mistreated. It wouldn't be the first time she had scared someone just for looking at you wrong.

"I know. Thanks Sam."

"You're welcome, now I'm making dinner. Spaghetti and meatballs sound good."

"Sounds great."

You were laid on Tara's bed watching a movie you had never heard of. It was one of Tara's favorite movies. The Babadook. You weren't really into scary movies. You had loved hearing the movies your dad watched. The Marvel movies. Daredevil had always been your favorite. For obvious reasons of course. To be blind and still be able to kick ass. Now that was awesome.

But nevertheless Tara had wanted to see the movie, so now you were here. Tara laying her head on your chest as she watched her movie. You were listening in as well. Jumping a bit when a suspenseful scene happened. You didn't see it but from the music and sound effects, not to mention the tv was a bit loud.

But the more you laid there. The more you got lost. The warmth of Tara's body pressing on to you. The feeling of her head laying right above your heart. The way her hand was on your stomach, her fingers softly creasing your stomach. It was sending the butterflies in your stomach to go crazy. Her legs were intertwined with yours. Your arm was also wrapped around her back holding her into place.

You weren't sure what this meant. Seeing as you never really had friends. Or cuddled with anyone. This was something you've never done before. You didn't want to over think anything. Make things weird. So you just laid there. Hoping Tara could feel what you felt. You'd ask but you didn't want to lose this friendship. You didn't want to jeopardize losing Tara.

"I can feel you thinking. What's on your mind?" Tara paused the movie to look up at you. Her chin still on your chest as you looked at you. Your glasses were off, the fairly lights, and the lights coming from the tv made your eyes shine. The small patched of y/ec were noticeable. Your eyes were something she loved to look at. They were like clouds with a bit of color in them. Her fingers came up to your cheek on their own accord. Softly creasing the smooth skin of your cheek. Her smile widening when you leaned into her palm.

"Nothi-Liar. I don't know if you know this but, when something is bothering you or you're thinking too hard. You get this cute little crinkle right here." With a finger she touched in between your eyebrows. Laughing when you were quick to make said crinkle go away. "Now come on tell me."

"Uh I like someone."

Tara felt herself tense, her smile quickly falling from her face. She sat up away from your warmth. Her heart breaking at the thought of you with someone else. Someone getting to lay with you like she had been doing. Someone else being able to get to kiss you. Or seeing you vulnerable like how she's seen you.

"That's-That's..who? Do I know them?" She had hoped her voice didn't come off like she wanted to cry. Cause she could feel the tears building up.

"Yea. You do. It's Sam."

The way her jaw dropped, part of her not believing what she was hearing. You liked Sam?! Samantha!! Her sister?! The ache in her heart grew ten fold. The tears escaped her eyes and she was quick to wipe them away.

"I'm just kidding. It's not Sam. It's you. I like you."

Tara didn't know whether to punch you or kiss you. So she punched your arm. "You asshole." The punch was quickly followed with a kiss. The feeling of her lips on yours was everything she had dreamed of.

"Were you crying?" You reluctantly pulled away when you felt her wet cheeks.

"Duh! I thought you confessing your love to my, sister! You're an asshole for that and I'll never forgive you." Even though the scare was still there. Your teasing smile had her smiling as well.

"I'm sorry. What can I do for you to forgive me." You brought your hands up, cupping her cheeks. You could feel her smile, the dimples that had been your favorite to feel. Her soft skin was so warm.

"Mmh, go on date with me."

"Aw man. I wanted to be the one to ask."

Tara smiled at the sight of your pout. She chuckled, she no longer felt the heart ache. No. She felt like she could kiss you again. And again. And again. The love she felt in her chest felt so strong. Something she never felt before. Not even with...Amber. Amber had made feel something. There was doubt in that. But nothing like this.

"So is that a yes?"

"Of course it's a yes."

You sat in one of tables in the quad. Scooby sat by your side. It wouldn't be long till Tara and Mindy came out of their last class of the day. It had been a month since your date with Tara. A month since you started dating Tara. Just the thought of your girlfriend was enough to have you smiling.

At hearing the familiar footsteps you straighten up. By the way they slowed down you knew she was trying to sneak up on you, so you let her. You felt her soft lips on your cheek.

"Hey baby." Tara had missed you(although she had seen you two hours ago when she walked you to your class) she couldn't help it. To be able to kiss you when ever she wanted, it was something she loved to do. Having you blush every time she kissed you. It was a sight she aimed to see every single hour of the day. Pecking your lips before greeting Scooby (who was happy to see her). "Hello there buddy, are you protecting our girl huh. Anyone bother her?"

"No one bothered me. Where's Mindy?" Feeling her warmth as she sat next to you. You wrapped your arm around her shoulder bringing her closer. You felt her get closer kissing what you thought was her temple but ended up being the corner of her eyes. "Oops sorry." Hearing her giggle was like a blessing to your ears. She cupped your cheeks guiding your lips to hers into a gentle kiss.

"Mmh it's okay. And she's with Anika. Chad's with Ethan doing who knows what. It's just you and me babe-*BARK*-And Scooby of course." Tara chuckled at the interruption.

"Maybe we could have a date ni-Guys! There's a party going down today and we have been invited." Quinn had said with excitement, you Tara had loved to party. It wasn't anything new. Yes, most times she blew off a party to be with you. You had loved every moment you had with Tara. But the thought of her holding back on having fun was something that began to make you feel, guilty?

"Uh I'm not sure-Oh come on Tara. Y/n tell Tara to have some fun."

With those thoughts in mind. You looked in the direction of your girlfriend. "Yea go have fun babe."

"But what-It's okay. I'm going to be on the phone with my mom most of the night. Go. Have fun. You can call me after."

"Fine, ugh okay. But I'll be in your apartment right after. Okay?" A part of Tara didn't even want to go. She had wanted to go back to your apartment and just relax.

She'd only stay at the party for an hour or two and then she'll go to yours.

You had just finished making yourself a cup noddle soup. Moving in the kitchen had been relatively easy for you. You had gotten used to everything in your apartment. Making the soup was easy. Especially when you did it the lazy way. (Water in the cup and then in the microwave). You weren't supposed to but it was much faster that way.

At sound of Scooby barking had you turning to face the noise. "Scooby?" Your hand held on to the counter. Using it to guide you to the noise.

"Here boy."

You heard him growl, you with your hand moving from the kitchen counter to the wall leading to the supply closet. Then you felt Scooby biting your pants leg. Trying lead you away from the door.

"What's wrong-" The force of a being tackled had your sentence cut short. With the sudden weight, weighing you down. The sudden pain of what you assumed was a knife coming down on your shoulder had you screaming. The scream of pain was followed by the yelp of the person.

Scooby had beaten into the arm of the attacker. But a dog wasn't going to stop the attacker. No. He had came prepared. Wearing a material that can withstand a bite from a dog. Killing you was going to be easy. Gutting the dog was something he had been looking forward to. Stabbing the dog, the yelp of pain the dog let out.

"No!" You sobbed out. You couldn't lose him. You felt around for something, anything you could use to help Scooby. Your fingers connected with something solid, it was Chad's baseball bat. You gripped and swung it as hard as you could. You felt the moment the hard bat connected to the attacker. You heard the moment they dropped Scooby. More sobs escaping your lips as you failed to hear any noise coming from Scooby.

"Oh Y/n, you've missed out quite a bit. But let me catch you up to speed."

You're breathing was heavy, feeling like you couldn't catch your breath with how much you were crying. The pain you felt as the knife was brought down into your chest, the pain was too much. You tried to fight back. Your hand holding the knife, you ears finally picked up the faint whimpering of Scooby. He was dying and you couldn't do anything to help him.

"Alexa call Tara."

"Calling Tara."

"No-" A hand covered your mouth as you tried to fight him off. But you could feel your energy fading. You had lost count on how many times you had been stabbed. You didn't want Tara to hear you dying. You didn't-

"Hey baby-Would you relax Sam it's Y/n." Hearing her voice sounded so relieved. Your felt your tears escaping at a rapid pace. Your tears rolling down the side of your face into your ears.

"Babe?"

"Hello Tara."

The voice had her freezing in her steps. The dread overwhelmed her in waves. No it couldn't. He couldn't be back. With you. You were vulnerable. Scooby could only do so much. Feeling Sam behind her as she bolted. Sam close behind her.

"Tara wait! What's wrong?"

"Don't worry Tara. She won't go alone."

Nothing could have prepared her for when she opened your door. There was no noise. Not the tv playing your favorite show, not the scabbing of nails coming to greet her. Not your voice calling out to her with a beaming smile.

No.

What greeted her was the sight of Scooby laying in pool a blood. He was unmoving. His eyes wide with no life in them. Her hand shook as she raised it to her mouth. The sob escaped her lips when she saw who was laying unconscious not too far from Scooby.

“No. No. No. Please god no.” Her vision became a tunnel vision. The only thing she could see was your stiff body. “Y/n?” Your eyes were open but unblinking. The same as your dog. No life in them. Her chest stuttered to get some air in. The sobs that racked her body as she pulled you closer. Your body was no longer warm. It had turned cold.

“No. Come on Y/n. Please. Please don’t leave me. You can’t. You can’t.” The ache in her chest had also started in her lungs. She couldn’t breathe. The pain she felt at seeing no life in your eyes. Your beautiful cloudy y/ec eyes held no life.

“Sam help me! Help me please! Scooby needs help to Y/n-she needs him. She can’t lose him. Please. Pl-please.” She held your limp body closer to her. Wishing that this was just a horrible nightmare. Wishing that she’d wake up and that you’d be right next to her.

But you stayed still. Your body stayed cold.

Tara gasped awake, her eyes frantically looking around the room. She was in her own room. But you weren’t there. The panic grew. The dread growing when she didn’t find you. She reached for her phone calling you. But the more she went without hearing your voice. The more the fear grew. She was out of her bed in no time. In a rush to find you.

It couldn’t be true.

But it felt so real.

When you weren’t in the kitchen, she had to find you. Your apartment is where she’d find you. You had to be there. You just had to.

The force of knocking into someone had been so sudden that she had almost knocked the person over. Had the person not been prepared.

“Wow Tara trying to tackle a blind person are ya?”

The sound of your voice had her already blood shut eyes widening before she let out a relieved sob as she fell into your arms. As she buried her face into your chest holding you tight. The nightmare had felt so real. The pain of losing you had felt so real. Your de- your body she had felt it.

“Talk to me Tara? What’s wrong?” You were worried. Never had you heard Tara crying like this. You had texted her last night but Anika had responded saying Tara drank a bit too much and was taken home late into the night. So you had gone to bed with the plan of going to Tara’s in the morning hoping you could make her hangover a bit better.

“Tara breath for me baby.” The concern grew as you felt her breathing become more erratic. You tried your best to lead her inside without tripping shutting the door behind you. Locking as many locks as you could. Scooby followed close behind. Also worried for the shorter girl.

When your fingers finally touched the couch you sat her down but she refused to let you go. You wanted to know what had caused her to act like this.

You dug into your bag, fingers grazing items you did not need. Once you found what you needed you took it out. “Come on Tar, use your inhaler. Breath for me baby. I’m right here.”

Once she had her breathing under control. You leaned back into the couch. Pulling Tara on your lap and holding her close to you. You weren’t sure what was wrong but it was clear that she needed comforting. Scooby also jumping on to the couch. His head laying into the space of the couch and you and Tara. Trying his best to comfort the girl.

“I had a bad dream. It felt so real. So fucking real. Everything. From the way you act, talk. Even when you use the microwave to heat up your cup noddle soups. Even when I tell you not to do that. Ghostface attacked you and Scooby. You both didn’t make it. Fuck it felt so real. And when I woke up I felt so confused and-when I didn’t see you, the fear grew. I couldn’t tell if the dream was real or not. I can’t lose you Y/n. I just can’t. I don’t think I’ll be able to live without you.” Tara felt herself wanting to cry again.

“I’m right here. I know I can’t necessarily promise you that nothing will happen to me. But I sure as hell can promise you that I’ll try my very best to always return to you.” You kissed the side of her face. What ended being her ear.

“I know, I’m sorry I freaked out on you.” She mumbled into your neck. Her grip on you never loosened up. Not that you were complaining.

“Don’t be. Plus I’m not that helpless. Daredevil isn’t my favorite marvel character for no reason.” You joked hoping you could get a laugh or smile from her. From the sound of her chuckle you knew you had succeeded.

“Get some rest. I’ll be here when you wake up. I promise.”

With a kiss on your lips, you could still feel her lips trembling just a bit. You wanted her to feel safe. To feel sure.

“I love you Y/n.” To have you laying here with her. It was enough for to calm down just a bit. To have Scooby also here was just enough for her to finally accept that it was just a nightmare.

“I love you to Tara.”

#tara carpenter x reader #scream #tara carpenter #fem!reader

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leahwllmsn · 4 months

Text

august slipped away into a moment in time (‘cause it was never mine) | alessia russo x reader

Alessia has someone else and you should’ve known better.

; angst, cheating

I’m in love with Alessia Russo. It was that thought that kept on repeating in your head as Alessia’s blue eyes stared right into yours. With that thought playing on a loop in your head, your gaze dropped to her lips and you unconsciously bit your own. You saw she did the same and you almost, almost leaned forward to capture those plump lips in yours.

But this was Alessia Russo and Alessia Russo had a boyfriend and you knew it wouldn’t be right.

It took everything in you to get your back off the lockers and push her away.

You didn’t even remember how you got into that position in the first place—with Alessia inches away from you, pinning you against the lockers of the changing room.

Shaking your head, you swore that you would never let yourself get that close to Alessia again. You didn’t think you’d have the willpower to resist next time.

But nothing ever went your way and next time came a second later.

Alessia grabbed your wrist and tugged you closer. It was the closest you had ever been to each other and you knew you wouldn’t be able to resist.

“Alessia…” you whispered. You didn’t know what she wanted from you. Alessia had someone, why would she want you?

“Kiss me.” Alessia whispered back and you thought you had to be dreaming. But she repeated her words once again and you felt all the air rush out your body.

“Are you sure?”

You knew that you were crazy to even think about agreeing to the girl in front of you. But having Alessia so close after years of admiring her from afar, you were starting to feel every selfish bone in your body.

So when Alessia nodded, you didn’t waste another second before you pulled her neck and crashed your lips together.

Her hands immediately went to your hips, lifting you up and pushing you against the wall. You knew the door was unlocked and anyone could come in at any moment, but you didn’t care. Besides, it was off-season so no one was likely to be here. So you wrapped your legs around Alessia’s waist and enjoyed the soft moans coming from the blonde as you ran your hand through her hair.

It was the middle of summer. You were exploring the Arsenal training grounds—your future club once the new season starts. The staff told you that you were welcome to use the facilities before training resumed, allowing you to familiarize yourself with the place. Nobody had any more reason to be here since the season has ended, so it was a surprise when you found Alessia Russo doing some shooting practicing on the empty field.

It was another surprise to have your training kit forgotten on the floor as you spent hours worshiping every single inch of Alessia Russo’s body.

But I can see us lost in the memory

August slipped away into a moment in time

'Cause it was never mine

You’ve met Alessia a number of times, your paths always seemed to intertwine. Her playing for England as a forward and you for the Netherlands as a defender, it was inevitable, really.

You two were the same age, thus making appearances for the U15 squad at around the same time until you both made it to the senior squad, at the same time too.

But your relationship with Alessia never went further than the typical hellos and how are yous, which seemed ridiculous with the amount of times your paths crossed. You didn’t even think you two could be considered as friends.

Still though, you managed to develop a crush on her, which over the years, seemed to only magnified—a result of your longing glances from afar on and off the pitch, you watching her post-match interviews from the side like she hung the stars in the sky (plus you watching all the videos of her on Youtube—it was a bit pathetic), and how you hang on to every word your teammates said whenever they shared stories about the great Alessia Russo.

Despite all that, you didn’t try to form some sort of relationship with her. You weren’t the most confident kid on the block. You were fine with that though—admiring her from afar.

Alessia had always seemed to be a galaxy away from your reach.

You knew the incident that happened at the locker room—stupidly charming Alessia Russo looking at you like you were the eighth wonder of the world and not the other way around, it was a nice change for once—you knew it was a one-in-a-million type of thing, and although it was wrong, you couldn't help it. It was all the pent up longing emotions.

You promised yourself that you weren’t going to let your feelings for Alessia clouded your judgment anymore. As much as you wanted it to happen again, you knew better.

Turns out, the incident at the locker room happened again a week later. (You hated how weak you were for Alessia).

You went with your parents to have dinner at their friends’ house, who turned out to be Alessia’s parents and you couldn’t help how wide your eyes went at the sight of none other than Alessia opening the front door.

Unlike last time, Alessia didn’t have her training gear on. This Alessia had a pair of skinny jeans and a white crop top that slightly showed off her abs and you felt so full of a sin for having memories of ripping Alessia’s top while she was with her parents.

“Mr and Mrs y/l/n, happy to see you again,” Alessia greeted them with a hug and a smile on her face. She turned to you and you were surprised when Alessia went to hug you too. “Happy to see you again too, y/n.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you two knew each other!” Your mom’s tone was full of surprise and you didn’t blame her one bit—you usually kept to yourself. The only people your parents were familiar with were your Netherlands teammate, Viv and Jill.

“Just recently,” Alessia answered, her eyes fixated on you. “We spent hours getting to know each other last week.” You want to wipe that damn smirk off her face. “We are going to be teammates after all.”

You cleared her throat, looking away. You definitely spent hours getting to know each other, but it most definitely wasn’t what your parents were thinking about.

“Oh yes! That’s so lovely!” Your mom laughed. “You must bring her out more often, Alessia. We keep on worrying that our schatje will be stuck with two friends for the rest of her life.”

You grimaced at your mom. “I do have friends.”

“Schatje?”

Your dad went on to explain that it was a term of endearment, mentioning how you didn’t really like it when they called you that, and how you especially didn’t like it when they called you y/n/n.

“Oh that’s a cute one,” Alessia told your dad and your scowl deepened further. You hated how Alessia’s eyes glimmered in amusement.

“It’s just a shortened version of my name,” you waved off. “It’s not that hard to say the whole thing.”

“Any other nickname of hers I should know about?” Alessia grinned at your mom.

“Didn’t you say you two spent hours with each other last week?” Your dad asked, head shaking in amusement.

You could only pray that your face wasn’t turning completely red. “It—it didn’t come up.”

Alessia only laughed and ushered them inside. When your parents were out of earshot, Alessia whispered to your ears, “Can’t wait to know which of your names will be my favourite to scream out.”

You couldn’t concentrate on the entire dinner.

And I can see us twisted in bedsheets

August sipped away like a bottle of wine

'Cause you were never mine

Alessia’s face was the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes. She was looking at you, lying on her side with one hand under her head. Her blonde hair was messy, the sunlight seeping through the curtains made her skin glow more than usual. You thought that she was the most beautiful girl you had ever seen.

You cleared your throat. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Alessia said back. “Thanks for sleeping over.”

“Thanks?” you laughed.

Alessia hummed, grinning. “Yes, thanks. You are so good with your—”

“Less!” you immediately put your hand on her mouth and she laughed in response.

“I’m only joking,” Alessia took your hand and intertwined it with hers. “You’re fun to talk to.”

“We only talked for… an hour,” you noted.

“Still,” Alessia shrugged. “I really like talking to you.”

You went quiet after that. You noted how the silence was far from awkward despite you two barely knowing each other.

Alessia’s hands moved to caress your cheeks and you were starting to feel the weight of her touch. What were you doing? You had no right to be in Alessia’s bed. You knew how wrong it was.

But at the same time, it felt so right that you couldn’t help but bury yourself deeper into Alessia’s bedsheets, swallowing yourself with scents of the blonde girl.

“Why are you staring at me?” you whispered.

“Because you’re beautiful.”

You scoffed. “I’m not.”

“You are,” Alessia furrowed her brows. “You’re very beautiful, y/n.”

“There are more beautiful people.”

“Like who?” Alessia looked curious.

“You.”

You had front row seats to the way Alessia’s cheek turned a brighter red and you enjoyed how she tried to act unaffected by your words.

“Well, I am beautiful.” Alessia said, her voice teasing.

“Aaand I’m leaving.” you sat up, pretending to leave.

“No,” Alessia whined, tugging you back down. “But you’re more beautiful, is what I meant to say.”

You snuggled into her chest. You wondered how something so wrong could feel so right.

“Should we put some clothes on?”

“Why?” Alessia asked, her hand gently stroking your back.

“Because,” you stopped her hand that was trailing further and further down. “Your parents can come in at any second.”

“True.” Despite that, Alessia made no move to untangle herself from you, only hugging you tighter.

You giggled. “So can you let go of me or…?”

“This feels nice.”

“But your parents—”

“I locked the door.”

You playfully slapped her arms. “You couldn’t say that in the beginning?”

Alessia giggled and kissed the top of your head.

You closed your eyes and sighed in content. It felt really nice being in Alessia’s arms. With her this close to you, you could pretend that she was yours—even if it was just for a moment.

“Lessi?”

“Hm?”

“This does feel nice, doesn’t it?”

“It does.”

“What are you doing for the rest of the summer?” you asked.

“Spending time with you, if you’re free.” Alessia answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I’ll make myself free for you then.” That wasn’t what you should have answered. You should’ve resisted Alessia’s grip and gone home that day and erased any memories of her.

“How does every day this summer sound?”

But you decided that being with Alessia was too addicting.

“It sounds perfect.”

So you let yourself pretend a little longer.

less: come join me at the beach

y/n: it’s so hot out today

less: it’s the perfect weather

less: plus I miss you

y/n: fine

Your back

Beneath the sun

Wishing I could write my name on it

“Told you it’s the perfect weather.”

You looked to your right. Alessia was laying on her front, her back in full display and you wanted nothing more than to run her hands up and down the bare skin. But there were people around and you were sure that what they had could only happen behind closed doors.

“Yeah.” you turned your attention back to your book, but you couldn’t concentrate on what you were reading. Not when you could feel Alessia’s gaze on you.

“What book are you reading?”

“Anna Karenina.”

“Oh, I’ve read that before.”

You looked at her, amused. “You have?”

Alessia laughed. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

You shrugged, a smile on your lips. “You don’t seem like the type who reads books.”

“Hey! I do!” she lifted her head up, resting her chin on the palm of her hands. “Anna had an affair right? And she ran away with her lover to Italy, or something.”

You hummed. “Like what we’re doing right now, isn’t it? Minus the running away part.”

Alessia didn’t say anything at that and you realized how they had never talked about their situation before.

“Less—”

“Please don’t tell anyone,” It was the first time that you heard her sound so timid. “I’m still with my boyfriend.”

Your heart broke at Alessia’s words. You did know from the start that she had someone else and that this wasn’t meant to be anything more than a love affair, but still, it hurt.

“I won’t,” you tried her best to smile. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“I know it’s not fair to you,” she broke your eye contact, her fingers started playing aimlessly with the sand. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m okay,” you replied. You focused your gaze back to your book, trying your best to not show your emotions—at least, not now, not when Alessia was in front of you. “I’ve always known you have him.”

It was far from fine. You felt horrible. You knew a million reasons why this whole thing was wrong.

But you were in love with Alessia Russo and you just wanted to be selfish for a little longer.

So when a notification popped up in Alessia’s phone and you saw a boy kissing her cheek on the lockscreen, you pretended you didn’t see it.

Will you call when you're back at school?

I remember thinkin' I had you

Meeting everyday became a frequent thing and soon enough, Alessia was everywhere.

You would walk down to your kitchen to find her already having breakfast with your parents. Or on days where you woke up earlier than usual, you would jog to Alessia’s house and jump on top of her sleeping figure (to which Alessia would always complain but you could still see the hint of a smile).

You would have sleepovers and mornings together before you two decided to play some football together, it was the one thing you two loved more than anything.

If the security guards and the few staff around started noticing how you and Alessia were always together, they never mentioned it.

Once you two are done, Alessia would drag you off the field to an unused closet and you truly hated how you were getting used to the comfort of tight places with the amount of time you spent hiding away.

“You know,” Alessia trailed a finger down your chest. “You’re the best one I ever had.”

You rolled her eyes. “I bet you say that to everyone.”

You two were on the floor, your clothes spread out haphazardly around you. You were laying on your back, Alessia on top of you. Despite the cold, hard floor, you enjoyed every second of having Alessia’s weight pressed against you.

“No, it’s true,” Alessia smiled flirtatiously. “Who knew? y/n l/n, a monster in bed.”

“You’re always so blunt,” you laughed and leaned forward to peck Alessia’s lips. “We’re not even in a bed right now.”

“Does your back hurt?”

“Just a bit.” Alessia looked worried at your answer so you quickly flashed her a reassuring smile. “It’s okay though, I’m getting used to the floor.”

Alessia shook her head and smiled amusedly at you. “Maybe I should buy an inflatable bed.”

You hummed. “And how will you explain to everyone when they see you carrying a bed to this tiny closet?”

Alessia rested her head on your chest and you instantly wrapped your arms around Alessia. “I’ll just say that it’s none of their business.”

You laughed in response and hugged Alessia tighter.

“Are you hungry?” Alessia asked.

“I’m always hungry.”

“I knew you’d say that.” Alessia’s tone was full of endearment and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your lips. “Let me sleep for five minutes then we’ll grab some food, okay?”

Before you could reply, you could already hear Alessia’s soft snores. You let out a chuckle, your hand tracing circles on Alessia’s back as you stared at the ceiling.

You didn’t know how long this would last. You were naive to think it would be forever.

You ended up bumping into Alessia’s ex-teammate at lunch. You and Alessia were standing outside a sushi restaurant, waiting to be seated, when you saw two familiar figures walking towards you.

You tugged at your intertwined hands. “Less, isn’t that-”

“Mary and Ella.” you weren't surprised when Alessia immediately dropped your hand.

Alessia looked anxious, she was looking around and you wondered if she was going to ask you to leave.

You could see Mary and Ella recognizing Alessia as they walked closer and closer. And once they were right in front of you, Ella spoke up. “Less? Thought you were too tired to join us!”

“I am.” Alessia answered quickly. Her posture was tense and any trace of smile that she had on previously had now completely disappeared.

It was then that Alessia’s friends noticed you standing next to Alessia. They looked at you and their faces lit up in recognition. “Hi, y/n! How have you been, mate? Did you and Less come here to have lunch?”

Alessia moved away from you and you would be lying to say that it didn’t hurt.

“Oh, we didn’t come together. Must be a coincidence.” You weren't surprised at Alessia’s answer, after all no one was supposed to know about them.

Mary and Ella didn’t seem to believe Alessia, so you stepped back, moving to leave. “Yeah, no, I saw Alessia standing by herself and went to say hello.”

When Alessia didn’t say anything else, still keeping her eyes glued to the floor, you bid goodbyes to Mary and Ella, turned around and left.

less: I’m sorry

Back when we were still changin' for the better

Wanting was enough

For me, it was enough

To live for the hope of it all

Cancel plans just in case you'd call

Alessia didn’t call or text you again for a few days and you decided that you weren't going to be the first one to do so.

But despite everything, you missed Alessia.

And it was for that reason that you spent your mornings waiting by your phone in hopes that a notification from Alessia would appear.

When night time came and there was still nothing from the blonde girl, you decided that waiting was hopeless, you turned off your phone and get ready for bed. It felt like an endless cycle.

You managed to turn off all the lights and slid under the covers, yet every time you closed your eyes, all you could see was you and Alessia tangled in bedsheets.

You wondered how you could forget about Alessia when she was all you think about.

You woke up in the middle of the night, exactly four days since you last spoke with Alessia. The first thing you noticed was the sudden weight against your back. You looked down and saw an arm encircling your waist and you were surprised that Alessia managed to enter your room without waking you up (Alessia was the noisiest and clumsiest person you had ever met).

You sighed and turned around. Alessia wasn’t asleep. After hours of watching her sleep, you could tell when she was only pretending. So you leaned forward and placed your forehead against hers.

Alessia’s eyes slowly blinked open and despite it being dark, the moonlight from the window was able to illuminate Alessia’s features perfectly.

“Hi,” Alessia whispered. “Your parents let me in.”

“I thought you were never going to come,” you confessed.

“I’m late, but I’m here.” Alessia brought her hand up to your face, trailing a finger from your forehead down to your chin.

You offered a small smile. Were you pathetic for finally feeling at ease with Alessia next to you?

“About the thing with Ella and—” she started but you quickly interrupted her.

“It’s okay.” It wasn’t.

You knew what Alessia did was unnecessary. You two were going to be teammates—heck, you two were friends. There was no reason to hide any friendship. But you guessed Alessia didn’t want to be associated with you at all and it hurt.

So, no, it wasn’t okay.

But you were in love with Alessia and you didn’t want to lose her. “No one can know, right?” you gave her a small smile—it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

You’d take having Alessia in secret than not having her at all.

So much for summer love and saying "us"

'Cause you weren't mine to lose

“My boyfriend’s back in town.”

Alessia said it so casually one night that you were caught off guard. Your hand that was gently stroking Alessia’s back stopped mid-air and you slowly sat up, leaning against the headboard and bringing the covers closer to your chest.

All at once, all the dread that you had been trying not to feel came rushing in and after a month of running around with Alessia by your side in secret, reality had finally sunk in and you couldn’t do anything but hope that after everything, you meant something to her.

You knew it was a long shot, but you hoped she would choose you.

“Right.” you replied, because what else were you supposed to say? You didn’t even know where he had gone, you never asked about him and Alessia never talked about him either.

The only thing you knew about Alessia’s boyfriend was that he had something that you so badly wanted.

Alessia fished for a t-shirt that was on the floor and put it on. (You tried to count just how many of your clothing Alessia had brought home and never returned).

The blonde sat cross-legged in front of you. “What’s with the face?”

“What face?”

She gently touched your forehead. “You’re frowning.”

“Oh,” you shook her head, giving a chuckle. “I don’t know.”

You were quiet for a while. You knew how this night would end—you hoped you were wrong though.

But when Alessia smiled and it was a smile so wistful, you knew that you were going to end up with a broken heart.

“You made my summer more bearable, you know,” Alessia admitted. “My family’s a drive away but I see them all the time and I would hang out with the few friends I have here sometimes, but with you, it was so… exhilarating. You made me feel so many things at once, I always felt like I couldn’t keep up.”

You stayed quiet. This wasn’t fair. You did know she had someone else, but after everything you had been through this August, did everything mean nothing to her?

“You’re going to end things, aren’t you?” you spoke up, your voice barely a whisper.

Alessia didn’t answer and it was the confirmation you needed.

“I know what we did was wrong,” you continued. “It will never be right and I’ll always feel guilty about it. But don’t I mean something to you, Less?”

Alessia pulled her knees to her chest, a sigh escaping her lips. “You mean everything to me.”

“Then?” your voice was desperate. “Why are you still with him?”

“It’s complicated.”

You scoffed. “What can be so complicated?”

Alessia gave a small shrug and didn’t elaborate further. So you took a deep breath and leaned forward, taking her hands in yours. “Be with me.”

“y/n… I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I just can’t.”

“But I love you.”

Alessia’s head immediately snapped up. “You can’t.”

You furrowed your brows. Who was she to tell you that you couldn't feel that way? “But I do.”

“We can’t do this anymore, y/n,” Alessia took her hands away from your grip. “Summer’s over.”

“Was that all I ever was to you? A summer fling?”

Alessia didn’t reply, instead she stood up and put her pants on, rummaging around for her bag.

“Lessi,” your voice was a plea. “You’re leaving?”

She took a deep breath and you could see how teary her eyes were. “Please don’t chase after me, y/n. We can’t do this anymore.”

Stopping at the door, she turned to you one last time and whispered an “I’m sorry”.

That was the last time Alessia stepped foot in your bedroom.

You should’ve known better.

Parking your car at the training ground, you looked around and saw how alive this place was after days of secret moments shared between you and Alessia through the barren place. Your heart stings at the memories and you couldn’t help but search for Alessia. With every move you took—stepping out of the car, opening the back door to retrieve your kit bag, locking your car—your mind always returned to her.

And when you finally spotted her, standing by the entrance as she kissed her boyfriend goodbye, their hands staying intertwined until he walked away, you heard your heart break in two.

You should’ve known better.

Your eyes met and you still hoped that Alessia would change her mind.

But Alessia looked away and you had to swallow the bitter reality that she would never be yours.

Walking to the locker room, you wondered how you could ever find someone else when the only person that you wanted was Alessia.

“y/n, hey! Welcome! How was your summer?”

You shrugged. You didn’t even know who had asked you the question, you kept your eyes on your kit bag, rummaging around for your training kit, not bothering to look sideways.

“I feel you,” the girl continued. “August was somehow the worst month.”

You scoffed, your heart breaking and breaking at all the memories. “I agree.”

It was at that moment that Alessia entered the room, hair in a ponytail, looking everywhere but you.

You wondered how quickly she was able to forget about August when you still had dreams of it every time you close your eyes.

When your first training with your new club ended, before you went home, you found a note in your locker. You hated how a piece of paper was able to make you cry, but you kept it in the pocket of your jacket, close to your heart, nonetheless.

You spent the whole ride home thinking about whether you should forget or keep your dreams of Alessia.

You decided that for now, having Alessia’s smile in your dreams was better than not seeing it at all.

I really am sorry for everything

- Lessi

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