#I don't know why but every couple of weeks the same kids ask me if I'm a boy or a girl

[literaila]

three things

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: a fun trip to the grocery store (how do you raise children?)

warnings: a bit of anxiety, a bit too much of gojo

last part | next part

*

year one.

"no, satoru." 

how many times have you said that today? 

how many times has satoru pouted--like he's doing right now--and put back whatever he'd plucked off the shelf, grumbling something about how you hated him or you weren't his mom or how he was the one buying everything? 

oh, too many times to count. you stopped after five. 

megumi rolls his eyes with you, already familiar with this routine, looking at everything in the cart again with the same analytical eye he's had since you all walked into the store. you're pretty sure he's counting the total cost.

it might be cute--the way his frown deepens just a little bit after each new item is added--if it didn't worry you completely. 

because it's the first time you've taken the two of them to the store, and the first time you're trying to recall everything their eyes trail over, the things they want but neither of them will say.

you're trying to remember yourself as a kid--if you begged your parents for anything you could possibly want, or if you stood there and stared longingly. but your childhood has always been a dull memory you keep hidden in the attic of your mind. 

so you're not sure what to expect. 

because neither of them has asked for much, since the first night. tsumiki requested a notebook she could draw in, and megumi asked if you could get gojo to stop talking to him. 

the first which you did immediately, even letting gojo get her some expensive pencils to draw with, the second which you... tried. 

it hasn't been easy, the past few days. settling two kids into a dysfunctional house didn't exactly fit into your schedule for the week. 

"why not?" satoru demands, walking right along slide you, pushing the cart because you'd forced him to. "we need dessert." 

"there are seven different types of dessert already in there. i'm hiding at least three of those, by the way." 

"i'll find them," satoru grins mischievously, but waves a hand. "we've got two extra people in the house now. i'm not just shopping for me. do you want them to starve?" 

you roll your eyes, again. then pull on his hair, which he squeaks at. "you're only shopping for you. i've seen your pantries, you know. and i lived with you for three years. we all saw your grocery lists." 

satoru is about to say something, but tsumiki giggles. maybe at the stupid way his face looks. 

the way he's almost smiling, even in denial. how his eyes show from just behind his glasses, his brows moving like a separate entity on his face. 

you haven't really talked to him, the past couple of days. nothing beyond a question about megumi's technique, or where the two of them went to school. 

how long will it take before you finally ask him--

you look over to tsumiki, shaking your head at satoru and smiling back. 

"megumi doesn't like sweets much," she adds to you, easily.

you add it to the mental list of things you know about them.

you look at the little boy, and he nods, looking straight ahead. his shoes catch on the ground every couple of steps like they don't fit right. 

satoru gasps like this is an outrage. because not drinking straight sugar is offensive to him. 

"what?" he asks, stopping all three of you so he can grab megumi by the shoulders. "were you cursed?" he inspects the boy carefully, peering over the glasses on his face.

megumi seems to sink back with each glance of his eyes, his face turning red. 

"cursed to deal with you, maybe," you tell him, pushing him away from megumi. the boy fixes his hair--which had been pushed over his eyes--and glares at satoru.

"he doesn't like sweets?" the man repeats, mouth open, glancing at all three of you like he's not sure that any of you are sane.

"you say that as if you don't eat enough for all four of us." 

"i need the calories," satoru whines, fluttering his eyelashes at you. you ignore him--and the funny way you feel about the gesture.

you look at both of the kids, observing the two of you closely, and give them a look. a look as in, he's crazy. 

megumi swallows. "i like dango." 

"great!" you nudge satoru to keep walking. "we'll get some." 

"that's it?" satoru prods. "what about--" 

you pinch his hip and shake your head, glaring at him when he pouts at you again. 

you step on his heels as you walk through the aisles, still watching the kids with sharp eyes, trying to figure out anything they might want. 

tsumiki murmurs something to megumi every once and a while, but beyond that, they only walk alongside you and satoru, stepping out of the way of any other adults that pass by. 

honestly, you might as well have taken them to the park. they don't even glance at any of the shelves--except when satoru pushes one of them away to grab something. at least at the park, they'd be getting some fresh air. 

after you sigh in--what? frustration? disappointment?--for the fourth time, satoru gives you a look, raising his brows. you shake your head. 

he nudges you with his shoulder but doesn't say anything. whistling while he sneaks more sugar into the cart. 

after the fifteenth minute of this, megumi falls in stride beside you and you look down at him. his eyes evade yours, focusing on the necklace you're wearing instead.

"um, i have to use the restroom," he says to you, soft and embarrassed. 

"okay," you place a hand on his back, gently turning him around, "i think it's just over here," you say, listening as satoru follows along idly. 

"me too," tsumiki says, trailing on your other side. 

the store is almost completely empty, so you tell the two of them that you'll wait right outside the door, and lean against the wall, watching the both of them disappear. 

satoru is already looking at you. 

"what?" you groan, glaring at the doors. 

"what what?" 

you sigh. his voice is annoying. "why are you looking at me?" 

satoru is too close for comfort, his arm brushing against yours--uncomfortably of course because he is the worst--without a care in the world. "what's up?" 

"what do you mean?" 

"why are you acting weird?" 

"i'm not acting weird," you look at him, frowning. 

he's wiping his glasses on his shirt--like he can actually see out of them--and looking at you quizzically. "oh, so you staring at tsumiki and megumi like they're a science experiment isn't weird?" 

you ignore him and his stupid blue eyes. 

"if i was doing that you'd push me down a flight of stairs, but okay..." 

you sigh again, rolling your eyes. and then again. and then you relent because satoru's silence will inevitably break you. "they haven't asked for anything," you say, almost whining to him. "you told them they could pick out whatever they want." 

satoru shrugs. "so they don't want anything." 

"everyone wants something, satoru. especially kids." 

"everyone?" 

"yes. i'd expect you to know better than anyone," he laughs but you frown. "it's a human trait." 

he smirks, leaning down towards you. "what do you want, then?" 

you scoff, flicking his forehead. "i want them to feel comfortable. and i want you to stop bugging megumi." 

"but he makes it so easy," satoru says, pretending to be innocent.

"you're the adult, here," you say, even though you don't really believe it--nor should you. "act like it." 

"all the kid does is scowl," satoru complains. "i'm just trying to make him comfortable." 

"by invading his space?" 

"you stare from far away, i stare from up close." 

"you antagonize." 

satoru grins, crossing his arms, very pleased with himself. he's silent again. 

the past year has almost made you forget that satoru knows you like this. he's always known how to keep you talking, how to read your face and your hesitant glances. 

it's not like time could make him forget. it's not like you've forgotten anything about him. 

"you aren't worried?" you ask, after a second. 

"about the kids?" 

"yes," you say, obviously, "that we're already messing something up." 

he gives you a dubious look. "it's been four days." 

and he's right. you can't expect to understand either one of them after seventy-two hours of merely knowing about their existence. but you don't know how to treat kids like these, because any mistake you make--anything you say--will inevitably come back to haunt you. 

"it's--" you shake your head. satoru doesn't worry about anything, so you don't even know why you're bringing it up. "it's like when you play with someone else's kid and feel like you're breaking some unspoken rule. except this time we're the ones making the rules. there's no one to tell us if we mess up." 

"i think megumi would tell us," satoru answers, almost sarcastically. 

"he's the kid, idiot," you groan. "he doesn't know." 

"rude," satoru is still grinning. "what could you have messed up, at this point? all you've been doing is asking them questions. that's pretty straightforward." 

"maybe it's too much, too fast." 

satoru snorts, shaking his head at you. "grocery shopping?" 

"everything." 

satoru raises a brow at you, watching as you deflate. you feel like each move you make takes a little more air out of you, and who's to say when you'll finally run out? 

how many mistakes do you have to make to finally get it right? 

and you know--and you know that he knows--that it's not just about them, but about you. is this too fast? is this too much?

satoru rests a hand on your head. "you're too in your head about this." 

"well, i have to do it for the both of us." 

he ignores that. "if they need something, they'll ask," the words are soft, genuine. he's completely sure like he always is. "you made it clear that we're just here to help. it's been four days." 

you sigh, nodding reluctantly. 

"we'll figure it out," he says, simply. "you don't need to worry about anything. i mean, i'm here, so..." 

you push his hand away, glaring. "megumi doesn't even talk to you." 

"hey, yes he does." 

"to call you a freak, maybe. or tell you to shut up." 

"don't be jealous of my relationship with megumi. we're bonding." 

you roll your eyes but find a laugh making its way out of you. 

he's always been good at this, too. making everything seem easy. 

when tsumiki comes out of the bathroom door, she smiles at the sight of the two of you still there--both talking animatedly, with similar glares in your eyes. she settles in beside satoru, copying him as she leans against the wall. 

"you think i'm great, don't you tsumiki?" satoru asks her, goading. 

she nods immediately. 

you snort and look away while tsumiki giggles when satoru leans down to smack a kiss on her cheek. 

something inside of you warms, just briefly. 

and then megumi comes out, rubbing his hands together. unlike tsumiki, he glares at satoru and chooses to stand beside you. 

"okay," satoru clasps his hands together. "are you both ready to go?" 

"um," you turn to him. "satoru we haven't--" 

megumi nods immediately, looking a bit brighter at the prospect, and tsumiki furrows her brows, questioning. 

"great! both of you pick out three things that you want and then we'll leave." 

megumi glowers. 

"three things?" you clear your throat. "they need more--" 

"three things," satoru repeats, looking right at megumi while he says it. some words pass non-verbally between the two of them. you might have to tell satoru not to talk to megumi about anything without you. "we'll get everything else we need." 

tsumiki runs alongside megumi and grabs his arm, which he allows, though you watch his eyes roll. 

"go on," satoru shoos them away, smiling all proudly. when they're gone, he turns to you again. "there. now you don't have to worry about picking something they like." 

and he reaches his hand to grab yours, as a simple habit. 

satoru has never tip-toed around the line of physical contact. even with shoko, even when she would push him off.

something passes between the two of you. holding his hand is familiar; egged on by four years of standing alongside him. 

you try not to flinch away from the contact. 

and, sure, satoru probably just lost both of them in the store, and you don't actually have everything else you need, or know what those things are, but he's smiling at you. 

he's trying to be reassuring. 

so you smile back and let him hold your hand. 

"we'll figure it out," he whispers to you, and you push the cart this time while the two of you try to find the children he just lost.

*

later that night--after forcing satoru to put away the groceries with the rest of you--megumi lets you sneak into his room with a (third) bag of candy that satoru grabbed last second, acting like you wouldn't notice. 

"where's the best hiding spot for this?" you ask him, looking around.

it's pretty doubtful that satoru would risk going into megumi's room just to look for it. and, you're sure, that megumi probably wouldn't let satoru open the door, nonetheless go through his things.

the boy points at his dresser and moves some clothes so you can hide it at the bottom of one of the drawers. he doesn't even question your motivations.

as you back out of the room again, you make him promise not to tell, and, for a single second, megumi smiles back at you, crossing his heart. 

*

next part

#gojo satoru #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru gojo #satoru gojō x reader #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo fluff #satoru gojo x y/n #a typical family

[carolmunson]

in the still of the night

soft!gf!reader x depressed!eddie

became a woman posessed and decided i needed to write something about taking care of my baby cow eyes sad bf. tw: as always, minors dni. themes of depression/mess. mention of minor character death. reader wears eddie's clothes. some suggestive language. showering together.

Steve called for a check-in just to call you right after, said he'd offer to drive. You peek into the darkened trailer, hearing the scratch of the record player in the living room. Too tired and achey to make it to his bed last night and too defeated to leave the couch all day today -- not even to flip The Animals record to the B-side. Rain patters on the tin roof, curtains drawn but not thick enough to keep out the gray light from spilling in through the bare threads of years of use. He faces the back cushions, hugging a pillow, knees tucked under the bottom. A kid in his adult disguise, he always gets like this around the anniversary of his mom's passing. You ease in, lightly closing the storm door behind you. The soft gray glow in the kitchen leaves you a little sullen. Half done dishes on a rag on the counter -- two smashed glasses scattered across the tile. Evidence of his frustration part way through the task, you can practically hear his desperate 'I don't wanna do this,' while he threw them. You let out a breath through your nose silently, noting the piles of laundry on the table by the washing machine across from the living room. He hadn't let you come over in a couple weeks, it's clear why now. When you tip toe onto the brown shag carpeting by the record player you ease the needle off the disc. The steady rise and fall of his back and shoulders aids your next move. You clear off the McDonald's bags from nights of fast food off the coffee table like a mouse, making sure not to crinkle anything too much. You don't want to stir him. Once clear, you walk around it, taking a seat on the edge of the couch by his feet -- hand reaching out to run comfortingly over his back. "Hi baby," you say softly, "It's me." He stirs, looking down to see you there, confused. He looks down at himself, same pajamas he's had on for three days, unshowered, unshaven. He's embarrassed, he never let's you see him when he's like this. Eddie's face crumples when the realization sets in -- it's not a dream and you're there, seeing his filthy trailer, seeing what happens when he's not okay. You're not supposed to see this, even when you're so sweet on him every time you do.

"What's goin' on, bub?" you ask in just above a whisper, "What're you thinkin' about?" His brows pull in, jaw getting tight when his nose starts to tingle with the start of a cry. His eyes water, shining in the light of the overcast through the threadbare curtains. One hiccup turns to two, and then he starts. "S'just been hard," he sniffles, "I'm just havin' a h-hard time." "I know," you soothe, still rubbing his back, "It's that time of year." "You sh-shouldn't be here," he shakes his head, shoulders shaking while the sobs start to over take him, "You kn-know I'm not like th-this." "Shh, I know, I know," you coo, climbing into the space between him and the back of the couch, squishing over him slightly, "I can help. I wanna help." He welcomes your body along his, you manuever so he's partly atop you, replacing the pillow with your torso. His face finds home in the crook of your neck, while you scratch at the top of his scalp the way he likes it.

"You smell good," he says wetly into your skin. "Thank you," you whisper. You both lay there for a little bit, letting him cry, letting him listen to the rain while it picks up outside. The living room gets a darker while the storm rolls further through the park and evening sets in. He settles after some time, your neck and shouler damp with his tears.

"I'm sorry," he says when he sits up part way, "I'm sorry you're seeing me like this...again." "I will always rather see you like this than any worse alternative," you smile at him, "I get like this too, you never make me apologize." "I know but I -- " "No buts," you shake your head, sitting up right to lean down and kiss him on the forehead, "Why don't you put a movie on and I'll take care of that laundry?" "No, no, you're not -- you're not doing my laundry," he says with an annoyed huff, "I can do it -- it's fine." "I want to," you assure, wiping at his cheek with your thumb when frustrated desperate tears start to spill from the pool in his eyes again. "It's not -- fuck babe, it's not your job. You don't have to take care of me," he complains, "I'm okay. I'm fine." "I don't think you're fine," you shrug, tilting your head to looking at him. His cheeks redden, you can tell he's stressed -- embarrassed to be crying in front of you, embarrassed by the mess. The rise and fall of his shoulders quicken while he takes stock of what needs to be done around him. "Hey, hey, look at me," you encourage, your palm skating over his stubbled cheek, "How about I do some laundry and if it makes you feel better you can take out the trash. Does that work?" "Angel, I don't want you doin' my --" "Would you like it better if I did your laundry...naked?" you smirk. He huffs a soft breathy laugh, a smile pulling on his while he wipes his eyes. "There he is," you murmur, "There's that smile I like so much." He sniffles, collecting himself for a minute before looking back up at you with sleepy, puffy eyes, "You don't have to do my laundry naked." "I can if you want," you offer with a joking grin, "If it'll make you happy." "You being here makes me happy," he whispers, "But I know you're just as stubborn as me so I'll let you start the laundry, but you're not doing all of it." "Okay," you nod, "And after I start the laundry I'll get the kitchen together f--" "Don't push it," he warns, leaning forward to leave a loving kiss on your cheek. You ease up off the couch, offering your hand to help him up. He creaks the way old men do, men who have seen too much before they were supposed to. He's unsteady when he stands, stiff with dehydration and lack of movement beyond the shuffle to the bathroom from the couch. Eddie pulls you into him, your face nuzzling his uncle's army tee softened from so many years of washing. Your arms wrap tight around him, thinking if you squeeze him enough it'll remind him that he's here with you and not wherever his mind keeps taking him. "Let's take a shower," you mumble against him, "We'll go slow."

"Am I gross?" he asks with a frown, you can hear his heart beat quicken from under his ribcage.

"No, but you'll feel a little better. I think, at least," you arms fall, hands sliding down to his, "I'll wash your hair for you." He loves that. "Okay," he nods, big brown eyes rounding -- admitting defeat, letting you lead the way he prefers to. The heat soothes his skin, the sharp twang in his muscles, the tension in his neck. He breathes in the steam, taking handfuls of water and splashing his face with it despite the sting. It's a hurt that feels good. That feels earned. You let him get a head start, a few moments alone to let the water heal whatever you can't. In the mean time, while he's not looking, you sweep up the glass in the kitchen and start a load of laundry. He knows you, his face a poster of unsurprised annoyance when you finally make it into the shower with him. "I know you cleaned," he says softly. "You love me anyway," you shrug, stepping close to press yourself against him -- skin hot from the water. "I do love you anyway," he nods, voice gruff and sleep soaked, crying vocal chords begging for something more. You suds him up, letting the water hit you in a waterfall as you step ahead. His eyes shut, heavy breaths taking over from crying while he relaxes further into your touch. He hums when you wash his hair, letting you baby him in a way he never was as a kid. You comb out his curls when they're wet with conditioner, massaging his scalp when you let it set in. He's always a little disappointed when it's over -- he'd offer to pay you to keep going. His bedroom is not in dissaray the way other parts of the trailer are. He never leaves mess where his guitars stay, where the amps are, it's the only place there needs to be order. You both step in with towels on, it's chilly from the window being left open, goosebumps raising on both of you at the wind. He still has some clean pajamas in his dresser, enough for both of you to wrap yourselves up in. He loves you like this, hot skin and refreshed, water still clinging to your eyelashes. The washing machine buzzes and you both turn, his hand reaching out to your shoulder when you go to switch it out. "Hey," he pleads, "I said you could start it, that's it." "Then come switch it out with me," you say, "Let's do it together. That's what I'm here for." A heartfelt smile flickers over his features, eyes shining with tears again from the shake up in emotions from your arrival in general. "Okay," he nods. You both pad in socked feet to the main living space, dressed in PJs in the middle of the early evening. The glow of the overhead lamp catches his wet hair, the glint of his silver chain, the wet slick of his lips. You switch out the laundry while he puts in another load, shutting the top down door with a tinny thud. You hoist yourself on it, legs dangling above the tile, heels rumbling against the cream coated metal. It's not long before his hands reach your thighs, leaning forward to catch you in a gentle kiss. "Thank you," he mumbles against your lips, "Again." "Anytime," you whisper, kissing him back, "Always."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot

[dazed-and-confused23]

Wouldn't Be Nice

Summary: After his divorce, Cooper Howard finds himself in need of a babysitter. That's where you come in.

Pairings: Pre-War Cooper Howard x Female Reader

Warnings: flirting and heavy petting. readers got a bit of a praise kink. Pretty domestic.

Masterlist

With the divorce came more responsibility, and that meant less free time with Janey and more searching for anyone who would hire him. He only had his daughter every other week, and while he did miss her - Coop always missed her - when Janey was with Barb it left him free to pursue other odd jobs that would keep food on the table. However, there were days that Cooper couldn't be there all the time, so after finding your ad in the paper, the ex-actor hired you to babysit Janey.

You didn't cost him an arm and a leg, and after the first couple of days, his daughter seemed to love having you around. That had won you enough brownie points from Cooper that he'd decided to keep you around. He had offered to pay you extra for keeping the apartment clean, Barb had taken the house, but you had shot him down, claiming that he paid you plenty.

Today, he'd come home, tired after working a children's birthday, and still dressed in his costume, to find you in the kitchen cleaning up after an early dinner. You greet him with a smile and a soft hello.

"Where's Janey?" He asks, keeping the same quiet tone. You nod at the bedrooms.

"Sleeping. She was tired after going to the park this evening. How was work?"

Cooper groans dramatically in response, and catching your soft grin is worth it. He kicks off his boots and strides into the kitchen, fetching himself a cold nuka-cola, "It was fine. The kids were great, but their parents always got somethin' to say."

Mr. Howard had told you a little about why his marriage had fallen out, but he intentionally kept most of it unsaid. You knew enough to know not to trust anything that Vault-Tec did, and you were fine with that. It wasn't any of your business what happened between them. Even if you were occasionally curious.

He watches you rinse the dishes out of the corner of his eye, taking in your soft curves and your messy bun. You're pretty and nice, and Janey loves you. He couldn't deny that he was attracted to you, and he'd caught the way you looked at him sometimes. It makes Cooper wonder if you'd want to stay here more often.

The ex-actor decides to throw caution to the wind and sets his cola down before he steps behind you, so close that he can feel the heat your radiate. He watches the line of your shoulders tense, and your movements slow to a crawl. Cooper drags his teeth across his bottom lip and then reaches out, his hands resting on your hips.

Cooper hears you swallow and catches your eye when you turn back to look at him, "Mr. Howard?"

"You do such a good job looking after Janey, Sugar," Cooper murmured, and inches forward, his chest brushing against your hair, "You won't let me pay you more, so how about somethin' else?"

One wet hand curls around his wrist, nails biting into his skin. Your voice is just above a whisper, "I don't think that's such a good idea, Mr. Howard."

Cooper drags his thumbs back and forth along your hips, the touch anything but innocent, "What have I said about calling me that?"

"It makes you feel old, and to call you Cooper," you rattle off, the words memorized by how often the ex-actor says them to you. Cooper nods, his chin grazing your hair.

"Good girl," Cooper praises, and his lips curl in a wicked smirk when he feels the way you shudder at the praise. His hands inch forward, fingertips brushing your inner thighs, and Coop wishes that you weren't wearing pants, "Come on, please? You do so much for us, baby. Let me give this to you."

His fingertips slip between the apex of your legs, dragging over your clothed sex, and Cooper sighs at just how hot you feel. You make a soft, startled sound, but you don't pull away from him. He presses himself along your back, molding himself to your curves as he hooks his chin over your shoulder to press delicate kisses to your throat.

Arousal pools in your lower stomach, and you can't help the way that you press into those devious touches to your core. You tilt your head back, exposing more of your throat, and feel the grin the ex-actor wears against your flesh.

The hand around his wrist releases him, and Cooper doesn't waste time sliding his palm under your shirt. He strokes your stomach, trailing his hand up and beneath your bra to tweak and pinch your nipple. Coop pushes you into the counter, using the leverage to grind against your ass.

Cooper’s fun is suddenly cut short by the sound of a door creaking open. Your head jerks up, wacking the ex-actor in the nose hard enough for him to grunt, and tears come to his eyes. He stumbled back just in time for Janey to come be-popping around the corner, a stuffed dog held tight in one hand.

You round the bar in the kitchen, smiling down at Janey while Cooper is making sure he doesn't have a bloody nose. He watches you crouch in front of his daughter, speaking softly enough that he doesn't catch whatever you say to her. Whatever it was makes Janey laugh and toddle back to her bedroom, a tired smile on her little face.

The two of you look at one another once she's gone, and then the two of you are giggling like children, red in the face after being interrupted by Cooper’s daughter. He meets you in the living room, hands resting on your hips as he faces you. You grin, reaching up to cradle his jaw.

"Is your nose okay?"

Cooper snickers and nods, "It's fine, baby. Come on, we should probably talk, hmm?"

#cooper howard #fallout #fallout prime #x reader #cooper howard x reader #pre war cooper howard #wouldn't be nice

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Imagines: Rocky Mountain Way*

————————————————————————-

Summary: Flashback. You take Joe on a trip with your family to the Rocky Mountains in Colorado. It was an annual trip your family took every year when you were a kid, and this year, you took your boyfriend Joe for the first time.

Warnings: Smut, fluff

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine universe: Just the Two of Us

————————————————————————-

December 4, 2023

(y/n’s pov)

Today, Joe and I were leaving for Colorado with my family.

My parents have been taking me and my two brothers on this yearly trip our whole lives, and this year was my first time taking Joe.

I was the oldest of my two brothers, being 27.

The middle sibling, Tanner, was 21.

The youngest, Harrison, was 18.

Harrison was a senior in high school and had a girlfriend, but he wasn't allowed to take her with us on our Colorado trip.

Tanner was bringing his fiance, Lucy, though. They had been dating since the 8th grade, and Tanner knew from the beginning she was the one. He just wanted to wait to propose till they could celebrate their engagement with drinking.

As soon as they were both 21, he proposed.

Crazy that my little brother got engaged before me, but I know Joe is taking his time. It’ll happen eventually, I hope.

Lucy had been coming on the Colorado trip with us since they graduated high school. My parents found her and Tanner mature enough to share a room.

When Joe found this out, he was slightly offended as to why he hadn't been invited to come.

I had to break it to him that he had been invited every year since we started dating at twenty years old.

And that I had declined the offer from my parents before even asking him.

Joe was annoyed, confused, and a little hurt. He thought it was because I didn't want him there.

That couldn't be further from the truth.

The real reason I didn't want to bring Joe? Sex.

When I told him, Joe laughed at my reasoning, but it was a genuine worry.

Since we started dating in 2017, Joe and I have pretty much, at least, had one round of sex a day.

Of course, there were some days missed since then because life got in the way or we were too tired at the end of the day, but it slowly became a part of our daily routine as a couple.

Why would this be a problem, though? Why would this make me decline an invitation for my boyfriend to go on vacation with me and my family?

I’m not comfortable having intercourse under the same roof as my family.

There were no problems for me if it was under the same roof as strangers or friends, like quickies in an event bathroom or a friend’s bedroom at a get-together. It was purely just my family.

The thought of my parents hearing me make a sound or the headboard of the bed hitting the wall… made me want to puke.

Eventually, though, I gave in to Joe and told him he could go with us this year.

My only stipulation? No sex the entire trip.

Joe happily agreed, saying he could go a week without it, but here we were…

Day two, and Joe was lying in bed next to me, complaining of unresolved horniness.

“Baby, please. We can be super quiet, and you can ride me so the bed doesn't move that much…” - Joe

“Convincing, but no. You knew what you were getting yourself into when I agreed to let you come.” - you

“I know, but I was way in over my head. It's been 48 hours, and I already can’t stop thinking about sex.” - Joe

“Typical man.” - you mumbled

“You don’t feel it?” - Joe

“Feel what?” - you

I asked in a slightly apprehensive manner, hoping he wouldn't just say “My dick”.

“Slightly deprived?” - Joe

“Baby, you're not being deprived… but, no I don't. It feels a little weird going two days without it since it’s become a part of our routine, but no I don't feel deprived.” - you

“Yeah. Maybe I am just a typical man.” - Joe

He rolled over to where his back was facing me, and I started to get worried that he might think I was mad at him.

Reaching out to rub his muscular back with my hand, I scooted closer to him and laid my chin on his shoulder.

“I shouldn't have said that earlier. I'm sorry, Joey.” - you

“It's okay, I guess. Goodnight.” - Joe

“Goodnight, Joe. I love you.” - you

I leaned my head over to place a kiss in the crook of his neck, and Joe laced his fingers with mine of the hand that was lying on his stomach.

“I love you too.” - Joe yawned

——

December 9, 2023

It was the day before Joe’s birthday and the last day of the trip.

When we woke up this morning, everyone was gone already, probably already at the slopes.

Surprisingly, Joe had gone snowboarding with us every day and he was pretty good at it too.

It wasn't too surprising, though, because Joe Burrow doesn't half-ass anything.

That includes the snowball fight that broke out between us while we were snowboarding yesterday.

I had jokingly thrown a snowball at Joe while we were discussing which path to take, and it unleashed a whole war.

Joe didn't hold back or go uneasy on me. He was throwing them pretty much as hard as he could, football-style, and I ended up on the ground.

In the end, Joe lay in the snow next to me, and we made a no-snowball-fight truce for the rest of the trip.

My family would be in the mountains for a few more hours, skiing, sledding, and snowboarding.

So Joe and I had the cabin to ourselves for the majority of the day.

After eating breakfast while cuddling up on the huge couch, Joe asked me what we should do with our alone time.

“Wanna get in the hot tub? We can drink some champagne and just relax.” - you

“Sounds amazing.” - Joe

Joe leaned into me and pressed a kiss to my lips before we hopped off of the couch and went to our room to change into our swimming clothes.

I went out onto the deck first because Joe had to stay back for a second to use the bathroom.

It was absolutely freezing outside so I immediately hopped into the hot tub and cranked the heat on.

A few minutes later, Joe came running out onto the porch with champagne and two glass flutes for us.

“Holy fuck, it's cold!” - Joe ran

Laughing at his little run, Joe launched himself into the hot tub, his big body making the water splash over the sides.

“Joe!” - you laughed

“Sorry…” - Joe gave you a sheepish smile

Joe got settled next to me and gently grabbed my legs to drape them over his lap.

“May I interest you in some champagne?” - Joe

“You may.” - you giggled

He handed me both of the flutes and uncorked the champagne. My eyes lingered on his sexy, veiny hands.

After pouring the bubbly liquid into the glasses, Joe stood up and moved to the other side of the hot tub to put the bottle on the table.

I couldn't help but stare at my boyfriend’s trained, muscular body. His toned torso and built chest looked even more appealing as the beads of water ran over them.

When Joe turned around, I felt a flutter in my stomach… and in other places as the defined muscles in his back flexed.

“Lookin’ good, Joey.” - you purred

Joe settled back down in his spot and sent a flirty wink my way, those big hands finding my thighs to place them in his lap yet again.

We clinked our glasses together and took a sip, Joe resting his hand on the inside of my thigh.

“I love you.” - you

“I love you too.” - Joe grinned

I ran one of my hands up Joe’s torso before keeping it against his chest.

“Since no one’s around… wanna make out?” - you

Joe laughed at my forward question but nodded his head before leaning forward to kiss me.

The kisses were feverish and rough. Joe’s tongue slid into my mouth and tangled with mine.

Eventually, Joe pulled me onto his lap and gently grasped my hips to start moving me on him.

It didn't take long for me to feel Joe get hard in his swim shorts, and I broke away from his lips.

Joe’s usual pink lips were red and wet with my saliva, and he looked so hot like this.

“I need you.” - you

“Take me then.” - Joe

I reached down to palm Joe through his shorts, relishing in his groan before moving the waistband away from his stomach.

Joe’s erection immediately sprang out of his shorts, and he winced at the feeling of the hot water around his cock.

Feeling the need to hurry, I maneuvered myself to hover over top of Joe and sank onto him.

He slapped a hand over his mouth to stop any loud sounds from leaving his mouth. Joe wasn't usually loud during sex, but after a week without it, I wasn't surprised when he muffled a loud moan.

“Take your hand off.” - you

“I- don't wanna be loud.” - Joe

“It's hot, I promise.” - you

I gently took his hand off of his mouth and started moving on him.

The expression on his face told me that he wasn't going to last very long, and I decided to do something that I'd never done.

“You’re not allowed to come till I say you can, okay Joe?” - you

“Fuck… okay.” - Joe groaned

Joe’s dick twitched inside me when I said that. He must like it when I take charge.

“You feel so good.” - you moaned

“Missed you, baby.” - Joe

He buried his head into my neck and moaned lowly, I could tell he was feeling self-conscious about being louder.

“I love it when you moan… so hot.” - you

After moaning myself, Joe removed his head from my neck and looked at me with an appreciative smile.

“Really?” - Joe

Just after he asked that, his cock bottomed out, and the tip brushed against my cervix, causing us both to moan.

“See? So damn hot.” - you

My walls squeezed his length and Joe finally felt confident enough to moan louder… and fuck.

“Joey, oh god!” - you

“Shit, I'm close.” - Joe groaned

“Don’t come yet.” - you

Joe nodded his head but a couple of minutes later, he couldn't wait any longer.

“Please? Can I come?” - Joe

“Not yet, wait, Joe- fuck.” - you

With every movement of my hips, Joe whimpered. I could tell he was starting to get overstimulated but I wanted to finish at the same time.

“Baby, please.” - Joe whimpered

“Just a little longer.” - you moaned

“Shit!” - Joe grunted

I started moving faster, and Joe was writhing beneath me. He was biting his bottom lip so hard that I was surprised that he hadn't drawn blood yet.

Shakily, Joe moved his hand towards where we were connected and circled over my clit with his thumb.

“Mmm. Shit, baby.” - you moaned

Joe was panting in my ear and his cock continuously throbbed deep inside me.

Feeling myself getting closer to my release, I slammed my lips against Joe’s and started hotly making out.

After a few seconds of kissing, I slowly broke away from him, pulling his lower lips between my teeth before letting go.

“Come for me.” - you

Almost immediately Joe grabbed my hips and slammed his entire length as deep as it could get.

“Fuck, y/n!” - Joe moaned loudly

Just as he was shooting his load deep inside, I came around his length, and we moaned into each other’s mouths.

Joe hunched over into my chest, his head falling onto my shoulder. I rubbed over his back to comfort him.

“You okay, Joey?” - you

I kissed his temple sweetly, and when he didn't answer I pulled his head away from my shoulder.

“Mhm. Think I passed out for a sec.” - Joe mumbled

“I kinda got carried away.” - you giggled

“S’all good. It was kinda hot.” - Joe

“Yeah?” - you

“Yeah.” - Joe cuddled back into your neck

——

An hour later, we had taken a shower that Joe almost fell asleep twice during and were now cuddled up on the couch.

Joe lay on top of me, his head buried in my chest as I simultaneously played with his hair and rubbed his back.

He had fallen asleep right after I started the movie.

I giggled when I thought back to what he told me right before falling asleep.

“Shit, I'm so tired after that, but I think it's safe to say that Rocky Mountain Way is the best sex we've had. We seriously need to buy a hot tub for the house.” - Joe

Of course, this man is already thinking about sex again.

“Is the jacuzzi bathtub not enough?” - you laughed

“Uh-huh.” - Joe

“I'll start looking for one.” - you

“Good. Love you, bab-” - Joe

I waited for him to finish his sentence, and when he didn't I went to look down at him.

Before I could, though, little snores filled the air.

Laughing to myself as I pressed a kiss to his forehead, I shook my head looking down at his sleeping face.

I'm so glad I finally decided to take him with me.

————————————————————————-

Authors note: idk what to say really.

Request included in this fic;

#joe burrow #bengals #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joey b #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow smut

[mikalame]

Can she come, please

This is gonna be a bout little tom and TH going on their first tour and he's wanting you to come a long with the band ( young love relationship)

taglist: @oppopotamus @violentnewmarley @saumspam

"Please let her come sir i promise nothing bad will happen to her, please..." Tom childish voice bounces of the wall in the living room. His pleading feel on the deaf ears of his girlfriends dad.

It was currently 11:30 pm at night the tour bus was leaving in an hour Tom was already running late. He just wanted his lovely girlfriend to come along on on their first tour what was so bad about it.

"Boy, do you know how stupid you sound right now, do you really think that i would let my little girl go in a bus with people i dont know-" "but you know me! " Tom argues back

"Dont interrupt me, i may know you but i don't trust you little boy" The older man snaps at the young boy "____ calm down let Tom speak" ___ mum asks with a hushed voice the only person that on his side with letting her come along

"Please sir, this is a very big achievement and shes been there since the beginning pleas-" "dad whats going on, why are you yelling" a girls voice echos through the halls before a body pops out from the hallway.

Looking in the girl is very confused seeing her dad angry looking at her boyfriend and her mother trying to calm down her dad. "Go back to bed ___ this has nothing to do with you" The man says not using the same tone of voice as a couple seconds ago "well if my boyfriends involved i think i does, hi Tom" The girl says kissing the boys cheek before sitting down.

"Wait aren't you supposed to be on tour right now" The girl questions "yes i am, and i was asking your dad if you could come along but he's not agreeing" Tom says frustrated rubbing his hand over his face "Oh you little-" "okay, you two go up to ___ room ill be there in a second i need to talk to your dad first" ___ mother says calm and collected, very over this discussion.

Before her dad could argue against it they bolt down the hall and close the door shut. They talk for a while saying things about how they would text and call whenever they can before Tom had a great idea.

"Why dont you just run away and come we could leave right now" Tom says chipper thinking is was one of the best ideas in the world "No Tom, thats a stupid idea my dad will kill you and then me for even going along with that plan" ___ whines back.

"My dad already doesn't like you why do you think that wold be a good idea" ___ pleads not wanting her boyfriend to not get even more hate then he already gets from her dad.

Just then her dad opens the door, Tom stands up ready to defend himself again. "Sit down down Tom, i dont trust, like or even want you in my house right now, ...but my daughter seems to really like you a lot so i suppose you can go" The kids start cheering only for it to be cut off "BUT, i need you to answer my questions okay" The boy nods dreads to short to tie up yet bouncing with his head.

"Will there be adult supervision?" the man questions "yes every bosy but from us will be adults" the boy very happy that she is able to come along.

"No alcohol, drugs or anything of the sorts on the bus" The man says eyebrow lifting, eyes squiting looking for any detail that could say that the boy was lying to him. "Nope sir, the only people what would have alcohol would be the adults, they wont give anything to us dont worry" they young boy adds trying to better his chances at getting her dad to like him.

The older man huffs "fine but i want you to know Tom im not fully agreeing to this, ___ mum is the only reason why ___ coming with you dont think i like you right now" "i understand sir" Tom nods

"___ pack your things you need to leave in like an hour, hurry up" the man says nonchalantly over his shoulder.

Time skip

"Thank you so much mum and dad i love you see you in a couple weeks" The young girls says the excitement bubbling in her voice " Thank you ma'am and sir promise shes in good hands" The boy says "yeah she better be" the man huffs "you two be safe and careful, wish you good luck to you and your band Tom" ___ mother says with a warm smile on her face " Thank you, hope we do good aswell" the pair wave as they close the door behind them.

"He called me Tom not boy, Ahhh i think im warming up to him" the girl giggles at what the young boy says walking to the tour bus hand in hand.

Hope yall like, sorry i havent done TH in a while most of my request are Manzini its a bit hard to write for him tho but i try my best

#tokio hotel #tom kaulitz #bill kaulitz #georg listing #gustav schäfer #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz imagines #tom kaulitz x you #tom kaulitz smut

[angel-kyo]

Pay it no mind

Part XIII

In which reader confesses their feelings to Gojo, but it seems these are not returned (maybe?).

Warnings: reader is on the receiving end of rejection (kinda), and the fact that I'm obsessed with unrequited love is a warning itself. There is a mention of a small accidental cut on reader's hand and broken glass.

Previous: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Part XII

----------------------

“Are you sure you don’t want me to heal it?” Shoko was covering a cut on your hand. “I’ll get it right this time.” She had disinfected and treated the small cut, and now she had secured the bandage tightly around your palm.

Shoko had found you fumbling around in the infirmary for something to cover your cut with. She was still just starting to dive in the possibilities of her healing technique, but when she held your hand with such care, you had no doubt: She will make a great doctor.

“Are you sure you don’t just want another test subject for your technique?”

She smiled. “I have plenty of those,” but her smile faltered as she saw your eyes fixed on your injured hand, “so don’t make it a habit of showing up hurt. I don't need more practice, okay?”

When your eyes flickered back to her, you saw her gaze was softer.

The cut in your hand was not deep, and it was not the work of a curse of any sort; in fact, the reason was pretty mundane: a crystal-made object had broken in your room, and you had hurt yourself accidentally when trying to pick the pieces up. That was what you had told Shoko, and that was what you were going to tell anyone who asked.

Although that was a summarized version of the truth. Something had been broken, yes, but that had been Gojo’s fault, or so it seemed, but you were not sure. In his words, it was an accident.

You wanted to believe him. He was not the type to break things when upset after all. However, it felt as if your friendship was breaking apart as well, and that, you did not know how to mend.

***

Satoru had been odd around you for the last couple of weeks, and he had been particularly upset after you showed up a few minutes late to his birthday lunch, as if he himself did not show up late everywhere, every time. Then he stopped by your room to invite you to the arcade with him and Suguru as if everything had been perfectly normal.

“What’s this?” He was trying to peek into the paper bag sitting on your desk while you were looking for a sweater that was warm enough. “Late birthday present?”

“Why do you think everything is a present for you? I already gave you one for your birthday”, was your response as you finally pulled the sweater you had been looking for from your closet. “Don’t touch it, it’s frail.”

That made him arch an eyebrow.

You narrowed your eyes in his direction as a warning. Satoru was nosy, always had been. When he was a kid and you refused to tell him something, he would sulk until you gave in. Telling him you knew something he did not know was an easy way to tease him, and he had not changed much.

You stood next to him and took the contents out of the bag, taking off the wrapping that was meant to protect it, and held it up to him. A pretty crystal figure you had gotten during your last outing. The item could be considered a collectible of an anime you liked, but it was nicely shaped, and it had been the way it looked in the light what had caught your eye at the store where you got it.

Satoru was not a fan of that same anime, but even he recognized it was a pretty thing. He was about to grab it when you said “A bit pricey too, but Haruki helped me buy it.”

You did not notice how his smile dropped.

“So I guess it technically belongs to both of us, but he said I could keep it.”

It had been a most generous gesture. When Haruki had seen how much you wanted to take the figure home, he was more than willing to pitch in a little despite your protests. You assured him you would pay him back as soon as you could, but he said it was fine; he liked that franchise too, so it was not a loss to him.

Satoru’s hands were redirected to his pockets. “That was nice of him.”

You nodded and put the figure on your desk, admiring it. “Looks good, doesn’t it?”

He hummed in response, and you said “Well, we should get going if…”

“I thought you didn’t like it when people bought you stuff.” Gojo’s gaze was fixed on the figure you had just put on your desk.

He was recalling the gifts he had presented to you through the years. More than one had been “overpriced”, “too much”, or “too lavish” for your taste. You had always been too ready to decline anything from him, but you had no issues with accepting someone else’s help?

“And I do not,” you tried to decipher his expression, “but I paid for it too, and it’s different.” You were going to pay Haruki back, no matter what he had said.

“Because it’s him?” Satoru’s eyes focused on you.

“Huh?”

“Is it different because it’s him and you just do whatever he says?” His tone was calm, so much that it reminded you of the way Suguru sometimes reverted with the snarkiest remark while sounding completely disinterested.

It’s rubbing off on him.

“What do you mean I do whatever he says?”

Satoru knew he should bite his tongue before saying anything that could backfire, but he did not.

“If he says you will like something, you try it; if he tells you to accept something, you take it; and if he asks you to stay with him for a little longer, you’ll do it even if it means you’ll ditch your friend on his birthday.”

All right, he had said it.

“I said I was sorry for being late. How many times do you want me to apologize for it?” You understood why he could have been upset; you really did. But why was he fixating on it so much?

Sure, you and Haruki shared a lot of interests, so his recommendations were often good. And he had been so intent on helping you buy that figure that refusing him would have been rude, and yes, you had been with him that day you were late for Satoru’s lunch, but that had not the reason, and the main event was going to be his birthday dinner anyway (because yes, Satoru insisted on having a birthday breakfast, a birthday lunch and a birthday dinner). You could take the blame for making it late one time, but he was taking it out of proportion.

He sat down on the chair at your desk. “I thought you were not going to come.” Satoru sounded deflated.

Still…

“Satoru, I wouldn’t…”

“If you had to choose, who do you like better…” You thought he was looking at the crystal-made you had gotten, but he was actually looking at the small, framed picture behind it that portrayed two kids. Satoru tried to remember if it was from four or five years ago.

Before high school, you had never attended the same school. Satoru’s family did not allow it, but he was able to sneak out a handful of times when you invited him to your school festivals.

Maybe their last year of elementary school or the first of junior high?

He remembered how you pulled him around all day, introducing him to your friends and showing him around your school.

“Don’t you have to be with your friends?” he had asked referring to your classmates, who seemed to be expecting you join them on a walk around the stalls.

You looked at them and declined with a smile. “No, they are fine without me. Besides, I like you better.”

And when a friend of yours offered to take a picture of you with the camera she had borrowed, you pulled him closer to you and smiled brightly. If he focused, he could hear the shutter sound of the camera.

“Why would you ask me that?” You tried to look at his eyes behind his glasses. You thought he should know the answer, but it was not a fair question, so you settled for just stating the facts. “Both of you are my friends.”

That single phrase seemed to have slapped Satoru on the face and he turned his head to look at you.

“True, but you are not just any friend. And you know it, don’t you, Satoru?”

No, Ikeda. You were wrong.

“You can’t be serious,” he muttered.

“Would you be able to pick between me and Suguru?” You were not meaning to irritate him, but that should give him some perspective. Whenever he was not with you, he was with Suguru. It was evident he cared deeply for him.

He frowned. “It’s not the same. You like him too.”

“Because I gave him a chance. You never gave one to Haruki.”

Satoru shook his head, standing up. “And that makes us the same to you?”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out.

Of course not. You are like no other.

Could you really tell him that? It did not matter, he did not give you the time.

“Fine... I really don’t get you sometimes.”

“You don’t get me?” you scoffed. “You are unrecognizable. Why are you so pissed out all the time these days.”

He sighed, took off his glasses and put them on your desk. “Just…”

You were right. He had been uneasy since that chat with Ikeda (not that he had told you about it), but he had gone there because of you. He did not need that guy trying to get in his head, telling him he liked you, or that he was a coward. He did not need any of that.

What a terrible idea that was.

If he had not gone there, maybe he would not feel as confused, as if he needed to scream something but not knowing what it was.

Now you were looking at him with a question in your eyes, but he was not sure he could answer.

“Just...you should head out, okay?” he finally said.

“This is my room.”

“I mean, Suguru will be waiting for us.” He scratched the back of his neck.

You knew he meant ‘I don’t want to fight you now.’

“Fine.” You turned on your heels and walked out with Satoru following you but left him behind quickly.

Always a fast walker when they are upset, Satoru thought.

He was about to close the door of your room when he membered he was forgetting something.

There, his sunglasses were sitting on top of your desk. He rushed to the side of your desk and grabbed them, and maybe it was the swift motion of his arm, or he might have bumped the side of your desk lightly, but as he was running back for the door, a shattering noise reached him, and next thing he knew, he was looking at a bunch of crystal pieces on the floor.

Shit.

Satoru’s heart rate picked up as if he were about to fight a curse as he walked out and closed the door slowly. How was he going to tell you?

His hand was still on the doorknob when he heard your voice. “Satoru?”

You were coming back for him after realizing he was not following behind. “What are you doing?” You looked at him. Why was he holding your doorknob and looking at the floor?

He turned to look at you, but he did not move his hand. “I will replace it.”

“Replace it?”

“I’m sorry.” He turned the doorknob and the door swung open.

You passed him by to enter your dorm. “What are you talk-?”, you did not finish the question when you saw the mess next to your desk. Your crouched down in front of it. It had shattered entirely; you picked up the base, the only piece somewhat still recognizable.

“You are going to get hurt. Let me…” Satoru was crouching next to you.

“Are you hurt?” You moved away from him.

“[name]…”

“How?” Satoru thought he saw tears forming in your eyes. He avoided your gaze.

“It was an accident. I came back for my...”

“Are you hurt?” You were not looking at him anymore but at the million pieces scattered in front of you.

“No.”

He saw you bite your lip and nod from the corner of his eye. “Then… You should go. I’ll clean this up.”

“I’ll help you.”

“No.”

“I can pay for it.”

“That doesn’t make it okay to have broken it.” You wiped away a stray tear. Was it anger or sadness?

“It wasn’t on purpose.” Satoru defended.

“Wasn’t it?”

He frowned. “Of course not.”

“Okay. Then let me clean it up. Please tell Geto I’ll join you next time.”

Satoru did not feel like you believed him, but still, he stood up. “I really am sorry.”

He saw you nod and headed out.

He only left because he knew you. You were probably too angry to talk to him now. He would beg for forgiveness later and try to make it up to you. Perhaps he could ask Ikeda where you had gotten the item, but he really did not want to talk to him again.

Even if you could just take the money for it, would that make things right between you and him?

Boy, what a mess.

***

“He snapped at you too?” Shoko grinned at Suguru.

Geto just rolled his eyes and sat by her side.

“He is in a bad mood.” The dark-haired boy shrugged. “Is there any way you can ask [name] to hurry? I'm starving.”

“I doubt it.” She sighed and looked wistfully at the food in front of them and then at Gojo, who had left the table for the third time to wash his hands. He was fidgety when he waited, especially when he waited for you.

She was not going to call you. She had tried that, but your phone had probably died. Maybe if she prayed silently, her wish would reach you.

Hurry up, [name]. Annoying birthday boy won't let us eat until you are here.

----------------------

Note: Sorry for not updating sooner (sigh...what a week). It might happen again but as always, thank you for reading!

Next: Part XIV

@mavs-stuff @witchbybirth @crookedlyaddictedone-blog @tqd4455 @maybe-a-bi-witch @mo0nforme @maliakealoha @zacatecanaaaa @blushhpeachh @astriarose @missesgojosatoru @ba-ks @sukunasleftkneecap @songbirdlully @cole-silas @heijihattorisgf @chokesonspit @hersheyzzz @smolbeanzzz @luciledreamz @avidreadee123 @moonmalice @ratscandaler @sadmonke @allie-jay

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x y/n #jjk drabbles #gojo x you #jjk gojo #gojo fanfic #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #pay it no mind

[sunny44]

Getting back on track

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x wife!reader

Warnings: angst, sickness and a lot of emotions.

Summary: Carlos was determined to make y/n change her mind and was willing to do anything to make her give up the divorce.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Carlos’ POV

I was still completely in shock with the information.

Divorce.

I never thought I would hear that coming out of her mouth, I never thought I would have another person in my life besides her.

We have been together for so long that I never would have imagined that she would be thinking about this.

And the worst part is that I was the one to blame for her thinking this, it wasn't because she didn't love me anymore or anything like that, it was me who pushed her away, I’m the one that repressed her and didn't let her talk about her feelings.

"Dude are you okay?" I come out of my thoughts with Charles calling me.

"What?"

"You're standing there staring at nothing."

"I'm fine."

"No you're not, I can tell you're upset.”

"Personal problems."

"Do you want to talk?”

"Y/n want a divorce." At the same time charles is completely shocked.

"What?"

"That's what you just heard."

"Why? You are the happiest couple I have ever met."

"She doesn't want a divorce because she doesn't love me anymore or because I don't love her anymore. But she has been wanting to have kids for a while."

"And you don't want to?"

"Of course I do and I want to have a family with her but I said the wrong thing."

"What did you say?"

"I said we couldn't have kids now because I really have a chance to win the championship and I couldn't have any distractions."

"I can't believe you told her that having a family is a distraction."

"But it is, not in a bad way but how do you think I'm going to get in a car at 350km/h knowing that the love of mine life and my son or daughter will be out there? What if I die? They'll be alone."

"Carlos if you die you will leave her here, she will still be here if you die. The only difference is that she will have a part of you here, a part that will make her have you here still." I can't say anything. "A child is not a distraction and deep down you know that. So you'd better think about what you want for your life, because you want to have a family with her but if you back out of fear you'll lose her too."

That said, he put on his helmet and got into his car, and I did the same thing.

Y/n POV

It had been a week since Carlos and I were apart, every day he was texting and calling me all the time and it only stopped when I turned my cell phone off.

And then he started calling my mom who didn't know the real reason why I was at her house, she thought I just came here because I wasn't going to the Monaco race and didn't want to be alone.

But then Carlos called her asking to talk to me because my cell phone wasn't getting the calls and messages anymore and that's when he told her about the divorce and then she freaked out and is bugging me about why I want to separate from an amazing guy like him.

"I DON'T WANT TO OK?" I yelled already tired of hearing her talk. "I don't want to divorce the love of my life but I'm not going to stop my life just because he doesn't want to, I've already sacrificed a lot of things for him and our marriage but I'm not going to sacrifice my dream of being a mother because I'm a distraction and because he wants to wait until he’s not racing anymore, men don't have an expiration date for having children but we women do, and what if when he decides to stop it's too late? Because I'm sure he won't stop anytime soon.”

"And why do you think that by staying single now you will be able to find someone else to have a child? It's not something that happens overnight, not to mention that I highly doubt you'll be able to get pregnant by a guy who isn't Carlos."

"I've made up my mind, if you can't support your own daughter I'm leaving right now." I say trying to hold back the tears.

"My goodness honey don't cry." She hugs me and I start to cry. "I just don't want you to make the biggest mistake of your life by deciding something serious without thinking straight. You should go to Monaco, support the man in your life and explain your fears to him, not run away from him."

"I'm not going to Monaco, I need some time to think and calm down. But I'm going back home.”

"You don't have to leave, you can stay here.”

"I know but I need to be completely alone and also because of the piñon. I can’t let him alone”

"Alright, drive carefully and think about what I told you. If after analyzing everything you still decide that divorce is the best option I will support you 100%, I just don't want you to regret it later." She kisses my forehead and I go to get my things and left her house going back to ours.

When I get home I’ve played with piñon a bit cause when he saw me he wouldn’t let me walk, I turn on the TV to watch the race, even though we are not on good terms I still want the best for him and that includes success in Formula 1.

I remember as if it were yesterday the first race he won at Silverstone, it was a weekend I wasn't supposed to be there but I wanted to surprise him so I went and luckily I was able to witness his victory.

The sound of the worried commentators brought me out of my thoughts and I saw that it was one of the Ferraris that had crashed, they showed it very fast so I couldn't see who it was but when they said it was him I could feel my heart racing.

This was one of the parts I hated about racing, because I didn't normally think about it but I knew that at any moment I could lose him forever.

And that's when I felt a huge urge to throw up and if the downstairs bathroom wasn't close to the living room I would have thrown up on the floor for sure.

After standing there for a few exhausted minutes I got up, brushed my teeth and went back to the living room and was relieved to see Carlos already in the garage in one piece. At the same time I felt like crying even though I knew he was fine and it was then that I decided to send him a message.

Messages with Mi amor 🌶️

Me

Hi, I saw the accident

I would be relieved if you let me know if you are okay

I know we’re not in good terms right now but you know I still care about you

Mi amor 🌶️

Hey amor

I’m okay, a bit bruised but nothing serious

I’ll be home in a few days and I really want to talk about us

Me

I don’t think it’s a good idea

Mi amor 🌶️

Please

I am asking you for 5 minutes and if after that you still want a divorce I will not insist anymore

I’m not gonna keep ruining your life

Me

Okay

I’m home so I’ll be here when you come back

Mi amor 🌶️

Thank you

Is piñon okay? He was a bit sad after you leave

Me

Yes he’s ok

He’s right here next to me

Mi amor 🌶️

Ok

I have some things to do now so I’ll be home in a few days

I love you

Me

I love you too

…

The days passed and Carlos would arrive later today and even though we were in this situation I decided to cook our favorite dish for dinner.

I was finishing dinner when I heard the sound of keys on the door and took a deep breath to prepare myself psychologically for what was coming next.

"I'm in the kitchen." I warned him before he ask me.

"I figured by the smell." He appears in the kitchen. "Are you okay? You look a little pale."

"I am, I think I I’m sick."

"Are you sure? I've seen you sick before and I've never seen you like this."

"Don't worry I'm fine."

"I'll always worry about you." He tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear and I closed my eyes with his touch. "You want to talk already?"

"Can we eat first?"

"Whatever you want."

Dinner was silent and luckily it wasn't an awkward silence we just didn't have anything to talk about at this moment. After he washed the dishes and I went to lie down on the couch as I was feeling dizzy and I was lying on it when I felt my legs being lifted and felt them being placed over his legs.

"Baby I'm worried about you."

"I'm just dizzy."

"Look I'm really sorry..."

"I'm pregnant." I said quickly interrupting him.

I couldn't keep it to myself anymore and I needed to get this weight off my shoulders.

"What?"

"I'm pregnant, that's why I'm like this."

"When did you find out?”

"The day after the accident in Monaco."

"And why didn't you tell me before?”

"Because the last time I mentioned about this matter we fight and I needed to process all of this first."

"Why did you decide to tell me before we talked?”

"Because I couldn't bear to keep it to myself anymore and even though we fought you are my husband and I can't keep anything from you for long."

"Baby come here." He pulled me by the arm and I snuggled into his lap. "I'm happy ok?"

"What?"

"I am very happy that you are pregnant."

"You don't have to lie to me."

"I'm not lying and you know I would never lie to you. I talked to Charles and he made me realize that my fear of starting a family while I'm still racing was stupid and that I shouldn't let my fear win because I would end up losing you and I'd rather die before I let that happen."

"Don't say that." I say looking at him and holding his face. "Don't ever say that again, okay? You're not going to die because I need you, we need you."

"I need you too." He kissed my forehead. "I'm sorry for what I said, I expressed myself in the wrong way and I never meant for you to feel the way I made you feel."

"I'm sorry about the divorce thing, I never really wanted."

"And I'm sorry that I made you feel that it would be best if you were no longer married to me."

"It's okay." I held his face with both my hands and gave him a lingering kiss. "I love you."

"I love you too. You and our baby." I smiled and he kissed me. "How far along are you?"

"3 months."

"WHAT?" He shouts and I cover his mouth. "So you’re pregnant all these time?

"Yes, our trip to Mallorca that weekend paid off." He laughs.

"Oh my God I'm going to have to change diapers." he says out of nowhere terrified.

"I'm going to have to deliver a child through my vagina, changing poopy diapers is nothing."

"You're right." He says calmer but then immediately widens his eyes. "What if it's born and I'm not here?"

"Honey, calm down, we still have six months to get ready."

"Piñon is going to get a little sister.

"Why do you think it's a girl?"

"Because I was born to be surrounded by women, you are our daughters." At this I started to laugh. "I'm serious."

"It's okay love." I kissed him once more. "Shall we go to sleep?"

"Sure, I'm really tired and you have to rest because you're looking like you're going to throw up soon."

"Yeah, I'll take a bucket with me." He laughed and we went to our room.

In the end the divorce never happened.

Part 3 with baby chilly?

Tag list: @spicyclover

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #carlos sainz drabble #carlos sainz x oc #carlos sainz junior #carlos sainz edit #carlos sainz f1 #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz instagram edit #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz 55 #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanart #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz icons #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz angst #carlos sainz sr #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz headers #carlos sainz x lando norris #carlos sainz blurb #ferrari #f1 ferrari #f1 x you #f1 instagram au #f1

[avatar-anna]

Building a Home

part two to failure

Young dad!Harry x Young mom!Reader universe

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

"Can I get you anything?"

"No. No, I'm okay, thanks."

"Oh. Well, there's a, uh, there's a jacuzzi outside if you want to go in now. Or later, obviously. But it might be fun to—to relax or something."

"I think I just want to lie down for a bit."

"Right. Of course. I might go to the store, then. Buy a couple things for the week."

"Okay."

Harry didn't know what to say. He'd never been at a loss for words around Y/n. For so many years, they'd been best friends as well as parents and husband and wife. They told each other everything, and now they could barely have a conversation.

As a way to rekindle things, Harry's mother offered to watch the kids while he and Y/n went on a little trip. Harry was unsure at first, not wanting to be away from his kids after returning home, but he was also willing to do anything if it meant that they could break past speaking more than a few words to each other, so he settled for a cabin that was close enough to drive home in case of emergency.

Y/n had been civil to Harry since he came home. She smiled when he played with Simone and Collette and sat next to him at the dinner table, but once everyone was settled for bed, a wall went up around her, and while they still got in the same bed at the end of the night, the distance between them was palpable. Harry understood why, and he respected Y/n enough to grant her her space, but he missed her so much his chest ached. He just wanted to hold her hand, to see that smile directed at him.

The drive up to the cabin was painfully quiet, but he just kept reminding himself that Y/n came. That had to mean she wanted this to work.

He held onto that tiny scrap of hope as he perused the aisles of the general store, as he checked out, and as he returned to the cabin and made dinner for the two of them.

Y/n eventually came out of the bedroom and quietly began helping Harry with dinner, not a word leaving her lips. He desperately wanted to say something to try and break the ice, but nothing came to mind.

After dinner, Harry and Y/n got ready for bed in silence. They stood beside each other as they brushed their teeth, Harry glancing to his left every couple seconds, hoping this stalemate would be broken somehow. But as they got into bed once again without a single word shared, he wondered if they should've just stayed home.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

"I, uh, I spoke to the owner of the cabin this morning," Harry said.

Y/n looked over at him from where she was reading on the couch. "Oh? Why?"

Harry scratched the stubble on his cheeks. "I asked if we'd have to pay full price if we decided to leave early. He said yes, but that's fine."

Frowning, Y/n set her book down and said, "Why would we leave early?"

"Because we've been here for nearly three days and we've hardly spoken to each other, Y/n. We could easily do that at home."

"So that's it? You're just going to give up after a few days of the cold shoulder?"

"Y/n, I am willing to do anything to make things right, to prove to you that I want to be a part of this family, but you won't let me!" he said. "And I know that you're angry and you're hurt, and you have every right to be, I know that, but I can't begin to right my wrongs if you don't talk to me."

He walked to where she was sitting on the couch and rested his hands over hers. Y/n was crying, but she wouldn't look at him.

"You left us," she said. "When you were faced with the truth, you left. Instead of staying and being what we needed, what I needed, you left us! You—You left me.” Her voice broke on the last word, like despite all they went through, she never expected him to let her down like that. “And I—I have hated you for it ever since you left.”

Harry bowed his head. He knew deep down that Y/n resented him, but to hear it was an entirely different thing. "You told me to go."

"I wanted you to fight for this family! For me! But you took the easy way out, and now I don't know how to talk to you. I don't know how to exist around you!"

She stood up from the couch and walked toward the stairs that led to their bedroom. "So no, Harry, I'm not talking to you, because I'm scared I'll say anything that'll ruin things for good."

Harry let her go, sitting down on the floor with his back against the couch. His own tears fell freely now that she was gone. Any hope he had crumbled into dust.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Alone in their room, Y/n let herself cry.

Harry was trying, he really was, but he just didn't get it. After touring for nearly an entire year, he just left again. She knew she told him they should take a break, but she'd hoped he would stay and try to mend things. If not for her sake, then for the four children they had together. But instead he just...gave up.

Anne came around a lot, and had become the go-between for Y/n and Harry. She was the one who set up video chats for Simone, Collette, and the twins, she told Harry about how things were back home, and she was the one Y/n confided in when she felt overwhelmed by anger and sadness.

And boy was Y/n angry. It was easier to be angry than to sit around and cry, which she had no time for as it was. Now she was having a hard time letting go of her anger. Harry was home now, and he was putting in every stitch of effort with the girls and Julian. He got the girls ready for school, he changed every diaper, he made dinner, he cleaned up around the house. He was exactly the man Y/n had been hoping for months ago. Why couldn't he have been that man before?

In the cabin's bedroom, Y/n rummaged through Harry's things for the sweater she knew he brought just for her. It had been one of her favorites to wear around the house, before he left and while he was gone, but she would never admit that to him. It was at the bottom of his bag, though when Y/n plucked it out, she saw something left there. A scrap of paper.

Without really thinking about it, Y/n took it.

It was a folded piece of paper, worn, like Harry took it everywhere. She hesitated for a moment, then unfolded it, curious to know what was written on the inside.

It was song lyrics, a song Y/n had never heard before. Her eyes scanned over it briefly, recognizing Harry's handwriting and all the little scribbles where he took a misstep while writing the song and arrangements for music were scribbled on the sides. She looked at everything but the lyrics themselves, scared to know what Harry had written while he was gone. But curiosity finally won out, and Y/n glanced at the words Harry had been carrying with him for months.

"I'm in my bed, and you're not here. And there's no one to blame but the drink in my wandering hand. Forget what I said, it's not what I meant. And I can't take it back I can't unpack the baggage you left."

Y/n mulled over each word carefully, trying to enter Harry's headspace as he wrote this song. She wondered how long they had been separated before he wrote this. Was it when he had just left or had weeks or months gone by? She wasn't sure, but by just the first few lines she could almost physically feel this pain.

She kept reading. Over and over again she read each word until she had them memorized, until they were carved into her heart. Of course Y/n knew that the separation wouldn't have been easy for Harry. Despite his schedule, she knew he adored each and every one of his kids; she knew he loved her. But to see with her own eyes how absolutely wrecked he was by his own failings hurt. This was never meant to be how their lives turned out. They were always supposed to lean on each other and survive as a family because they loved each other and wanted this life, but somewhere along the way, that got lost.

And Y/n could feel the regret of losing sight of what mattered most in the song. She could tell how much he blamed himself for everything that happened.

"And I get the feeling that you'll never need me again."

They hadn't spoken much since he came home. Not of how they felt while they were apart, nor of how they planned to move forward. But Anne had once mentioned that Harry felt as though Y/n and the family would be better off without him. Y/n was still so angry at him for leaving that she didn't think much of it. But now, sitting alone in a room with Harry in the same house but still as far away from her as he'd ever been, she understood. He was wrong, of course, Y/n would always need him, would always want him around, but she understood that one's biggest fears could cloud judgment.

Harry had messed up a lot, but he'd also been right downstairs. If Y/n was done, there was no use moving around each other awkwardly day after day. She owed it to herself and to Harry to make a decision, even if it did hurt them.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Y/n found Harry sleeping on the couch, his legs hanging over one of the arms. He was still in his day clothes, clearly not wanting to enter the bedroom if she was there. Her heart sunk at the sight of tear tracks on his cheeks, knowing she was the one that caused them.

She wanted to make room for herself next to him, curl up into his chest and have a good night's sleep for the first time since he'd left months ago. She wanted to kiss him, run her hands through his hair, hold him close, but something inside of her held her back.

Their relationship was a mess that Y/n didn't know how to clean up. She didn't know where to start, didn't know if she could believe him when he said that things could be different. But she reminded herself that she came with him on this trip because she owed it to herself to try. Despite everything, Y/n loved him, would forgive him the second he got down on his knees and begged, which was why she'd been putting so much distance between him and herself.

But it had gone on long enough. They needed to talk this through. They needed to get everything out and see where they landed by the end of it.

Cautiously, Y/n went over to Harry and gently nudged his shoulder. He woke up in an instant, startled by her sudden appearance. "What is it? What's wrong?" he said, voice slightly slurred from sleeping.

"Nothing. I just...I just don't want you to think that I hate you," she said, unable to meet his gaze. She'd been avoiding holding eye contact for weeks, not strong enough to see everything he felt in them.

Harry sat up and offered her a spot on the couch, and Y/n took up a place on the opposite end. Outside of sleeping in the same bed, it was the closest they had been to each other in months outside of a hug when he first came home.

"I wouldn't blame you if you did," he said quietly.

She hated that he believed it, hated that she'd let him believe it. "I was furious, and I'm still a little angry, but I don't think I could ever truly hate you, Harry."

"I'm sorry," he said. Y/n could tell that he wanted to come closer, but he stayed exactly where he was, nervously fiddling with the rings on his fingers. She still couldn't meet his gaze, so she focused on his hands, finding it easier to look there while they had this conversation. "I'm so sorry, Y/n. If I could go back and change...everything I would. You were right to be angry with how I've handled my career on my own, and you have every right to be short with me. There's no excuse for how things played out, or how I dealt with you confronting me about it. I got scared and insecure and I let myself believe you deserved someone better than me, when all you needed was for me to be a partner. That's all you've ever asked of me, and you were right to say that I'd failed. And...And I'm sorry."

Would she have forgiven him all those months ago if Harry had said that at the time? Y/n wasn't sure. But the Harry sitting across from her seemed to truly understand where she was coming from, and he was owning up to his mistakes. If she didn't extend an olive branch now, there would be no coming back from that.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

For the first time in months, Y/n met Harry's gaze. Her eyes looked blank, though Harry knew it was only because she was heavily guarded. He apologized and would continue to apologize for the rest of their lives, but she had to let him back into it first. And he honestly wasn't sure if she would.

With a blink, Y/n surprised him by saying, "I found this."

She reached across the space between them on the couch to hand him a folded-up piece of paper. He didn't have to open it to know what it was.

Harry wrote the song at one of his lowest points during their separation. A month had gone by, and he still hadn't heard from Y/n. He FaceTimed with Simone, Collette, and the twins almost every day, but Y/n didn't send him so much as an email. After a month, Harry realized that this separation was truly indefinite, and that there was a real possibility things wouldn't be fixed by the end of it. For the first four weeks, Harry hoped that he could come home and work things out, but when a month had passed, reality kicked in.

He'd written the song at a time when he'd felt truly hopeless, when every mistake he'd ever made as a father and a husband gnawed at him. He was facing the reality that he might lose the family he loved more than words could describe, and the thought alone destroyed him.

Seeing the paper now brought back those memories, and now he had a hard time meeting Y/n's eyes. "I must've left it in my bag after I came home."

"I read it," Y/n said. "I hope you don't mind."

Harry figured as much, seeing as she was talking to him at all. The thought of her reading his song made his stomach twist, but at least she was talking to him. "No i—it's fine.”

"It's really good," she said, worrying the paper between her fingers. "I—I know the separation was hard on you, and I haven't made it any easier. I'm—"

"Please don't apologize," he said, reaching over to touch her hand. "None of this is your fault."

"But I—I never wanted you to feel this way. I never—Harry, how did we get here?"

Harry felt like his heart was breaking all over again. He in no way wanted Y/n to take responsibility for everything that went wrong between them. He never in his wildest dreams thought that they would've ended up like this. He loved Y/n with everything he had. He loved his family. All he wanted was to make things right, to be the father and husband they deserved and could be proud of.

"Come here."

For the first time in months, Y/n collapsed into Harry's arms. Breathing the biggest sigh of relief, he held her tight. He wasn't sure how many times they found themselves in this position, so often he'd taken it for granted. Y/n was crying, Harry was crying, but he'd never felt more at peace. He felt like he'd finally come home, even though he'd already been back for a couple weeks. Holding Y/n felt like coming home.

"I don't want to be away from you anymore, Harry. I hate it," she cried. "We're a team, H."

They'd always been a team. No matter what happened, it would be them against the world. Somewhere along the way, Harry seemed to lose sight of that.

"I know. I'm sorry. We can be a team again, I promise."

He didn't need Y/n to voice her wariness for him to know she didn't quite believe him. He knew he would have to win back her trust, but he was committed. Harry didn't care how long it took, his family was the only thing that mattered to him.

"No more music, no more touring. None of it means a fraction of what you and those four angels at home mean to me," he said, tilting her chin up so she could look at him. "I swear, Y/n, I won't step onstage again."

Y/n took Harry by surprise and kissed his cheek. "I just want there to be a balance, Harry. That's all I've ever wanted. I don't need you to give up your career, I just need reassurance that we're always going to come first."

"Done."

Harry knew it would take a lot more than just saying things to make Y/n believe them, but it was enough for now, enough to make it through these uncharted waters.

Y/n tipped her nose against Harry's, then again. His stomach swelled with anticipation as he nudged her back, exhaling some when she finally rested her lips on his.

It was barely a kiss, but to Harry, it was everything. He knew how much Y/n was going out on a limb by letting him in, by giving him a second chance, and he didn't take that lightly. She was the first girl he'd ever loved, and he'd be damned if she wasn't the last.

Y/n eventually fell asleep against his chest, her hands latched tightly onto his t-shirt as her deev breaths kept time with his. Harry stayed up, his hand running through her hair gently. Their legs were tangled together, and Y/n's cheek was squished against him in a way that made her lips puff out adorably. He could've spent the rest of the week just like this, not moving a single muscle, but he had a feeling they'd be going home early after all.

Nothing was near fixed. They had so much to figure out, Harry wasn't quite sure where to start. But he was holding the love of his life in his arms. Harry's life was starting to get back on track, and he felt a little kernel of hope blossom inside him as his eyes grew heavy. As he kissed the top of Y/n's head, he couldn't help but think that they might be alright.

#harry styles #young dad! harry #young parent!harry styles #young mom! reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles angst

[imkylotrash]

Growing Sideways

Pairing: Haymitch Abernathy x reader

Summary: Haymitch realizes you're not safe after the stunt he pulled with the forcefield in the arena, so he forces you to flee District 13.

A/N Please excuse any mistakes. I didn't proofread this

Everything is changed when he returns from the Games. He never talks about them. Not to his parents, not to his brother, and certainly not to you. Of course, you watched them live on the broadcast same as everyone else in Panem but there are moments you can't even begin to understand or comprehend, and Haymitch knows that. You feel him slipping through your fingers, and you can't even blame him. Going through something so traumatic... you shudder at the thought. It doesn't stop you from being there though. You don't push him, but you're always right there when he needs you.

Two weeks pass before you experience the aftermath of one of his nightmares. His mother invited you to stay after dinner even though Haymitch wasn't home. You'd be lying if you said that you didn't accept her invitation with the hopes of seeing Haymitch.

"He's not very fond of using the front door," his mother remarks dryly when the bump of two feet hitting the floor interrupts your conversation. But her eyes shine with worry about her son.

"I'll go check on him," you excuse yourself and get up from the couch. He crawled through the window into his room, most likely to avoid the confrontation with his family. There's a half-empty bottle lying on the floor and seeping onto the carpet of his room. Haymitch is passed out in his bed, looking too much like the sweet 16-year-old boy he was before the Hunger Games.

Today had been rough. Haymitch had once again been forced to play the part of the victor for some celebratory show in the Capitol. Those people forget that it's real children they send into that arena. The thought of them enjoying themselves while watching kids get killed is enough to make you feel nauseous.

"Don't leave," he mumbles before beginning to toss around in the bed. Nightmares. It's been like this every single night since he came back but this is the first time, you're here to actually experience it. The only reason you know is because his parents have shared their concerns with you.

"Please," he chokes, a trickle of sweat starting to show on his face.

"I'm dealing with this the best I can!"

You get on your knees in front of the bed and carefully take his hands into yours, ignoring the echoes of your fight earlier today. His thrashing stops momentarily, allowing you to crawl into bed with him.

"I don't even want you here, so why do you insist on being here?"

"Y/N?" he whispers, not fully awake yet.

"I'm right here."

"Just leave me alone."

One thing Haymitch Abernathy doesn't get to do is push you away when he's hurting. You can't stand the thought of him in pain, and the pain only multiplies in the next couple of days. You're not sure why you're surprised. After the stunt he pulled with the forcefield, of course, the President would be angry.

His father dies first. Mining accident. Nothing suspicious about that. He's certainly not the first to lose his life in those mines.

You imagine his mother is trickier. Maybe that's why they decide to have the peacekeepers execute her in the square for buying supplies at the black market. That day Haymitch packs a bag with your belongings and sends word to his contact at District 13. A contact he's only known since they were introduced under the games. They keep you safe and in return, he works for them in order to bring down the Capitol. Neither of you has any idea what that really means, but Haymitch doesn't care if it means you're safe.

"Haymitch, I can't just leave. There are people who depend on me."

"I'm not asking you, I'm telling you. You're leaving at 8pm tonight." He shoves another sweater into your bag as if that's what you'll be missing if you go to District 13. Everything is happening too fast. Five minutes ago, you had no idea District 13 still existed, and now you're going there indefinitely?

"Do you not understand that he will kill you just for being associated with me?" Pain is evident in his voice as he finally turns to look at you. He's already lost his family, he can't watch you die too, and you know that.

"You're a victor, you won the games. The Capitol loves our relationship, he can't kill me," you argue.

"Nobody ever wins the Games. Period. There are survivors. There're no winners."

"Come with me then," you plead, your voice shaking with unshed tears but there's no escaping for him. He's a victor, and he'll be forced to perform as such for the rest of his life. Your final hug is filled with things you can't bring yourself to say. Things Haymitch already knows, and things you promise yourself to tell him when you see him again.

#hunger games #the hunger games blurb #hunger games imagine #hunger games gif #haymitch x reader #thg haymitch #haymitch abernathy #mockingjay #catching fire

[acowardinmordor]

I needed to warm up, so I did not plan, just wrote this, and I'm about to hit post without editing or rereading. This is Steve&Eddie more than its a slash

----------

It was a week after the rumors made the rounds about Harrington and Hargrove getting into a fight. Eddie would normally assume it was nothing but posting jock bullshit, and ignore it the same way he ignored what he overheard about cheerleaders hooking up with other cheerleader's boyfriends. Except a couple days after the rumors hit a peak, Harrington showed up at school looking like someone beat his face in with a plate.

That made a pretty strong argument for the rumors being true.

The guy avoided his old crowd, and despite his ex and her new boyfriend - if that rumor is true, there was some overlap - trying to include him, he kept away from everyone for the first two days.

Eddie put him out of mind, one less asshole to cause trouble, one less shithead to dodge. Not his problem. Until he found Harrington sitting at his table in the woods the next week. It made sense, sort of. The guy was obviously having a shit time, and like most of the locals that kept Eddie's business afloat, he was looking for a distraction.

Eddie was right, and Harrington bought some weed before asking about getting anything stronger.

"I don't know man, I just wanna like, not be in my body for a while."

"Fair enough, but I don't keep that on me.

Harrington showed up when told to, and bought enough shit that Eddie hesitated before handing it over. He gave the guy a whole speech about not overdosing and ruining Eddie's upstanding reputation. Whether he listened or not wasn't something he could control.

So, the next Monday, when Harrington chased him down, and, as best as Eddie could tell, tried to become his friend, Eddie's first thought was that it was a ploy to get his next massive purchase of drugs on discount.

But Harrington didn't buy again except for a bit of weed. He did stick around. Outright said he wanted to be Eddie's friend. Kept at it through January until Eddie, confused as shit, admitted that yeah, they were friends. Mostly friends at least. There was stuff that Steve wouldn't talk about; his headaches, his nightmares, his tendency to freak the fuck out if the electricity got weird. Maybe it was better to say that Steve was his study partner who he sometimes hung out with. Cause that was the thing, Steve was pushy about Eddie studying.

"You really want to come back for a third run at graduating, man? Fuck that. 85 is gonna be your year, even if I have to bribe the teachers to pull it off"

"Why do you even care Steve? Maybe I want to become a legend of terrible scholarship in this crap town."

Steve never gave a real answer about it, just kept pushing him, hounding him about his homework, and showing up at his trailer every morning to drag Eddie out of bed if he had to. Wayne thought the whole thing was incredible and gave the guy a spare key. Traitor.

They got closer. Eddie finally met the kids Steve babysat. They immediately decided that Eddie was much cooler than Steve, and ragged on him constantly about it. They were close. They were. Fell asleep at each other's places. Spent half their time together.

Close, but not close enough for Eddie to get answers about why the fuck Steve had bruises and burns and scrapes sometimes. Bad ones. No matter how many times he said it, Steve didn't get those because he got distracted while cooking. It drove Eddie crazy sometimes. That was a lie. It drove him crazy all the time. Steve would tell him about how shit his parents were, but wouldn't admit why the fuck he needed stitches at the top of May.

"You did it."

"I think you'll find that you're the one that did it, Steve, I was an unwilling kidnapping victim in your quest to get us both across that stage."

It wasn't graceful, literally or figuratively, but Eddie got his diploma in 1985. Steve gave him what he said was a small part of his grad present from his parents. A thousand dollars. A thousand goddamn dollars. It was enough that Eddie didn't put the dots together right away. A small part, plus Steve's crappy job at the newly opened mall.

It was weird. But Eddie let it go, because Steve was his friend, maybe could have been best friends if the guy would stop pulling back whenever they got too close. He let it go, and he let Steve push him towards the goal of getting the fuck out of that town, and he promised he'd call when he got to Chicago.

It didn't really click for Eddie until he heard about the mall burning down from Wayne, that Steve never promised that he'd call too. The guy was there, and when Eddie called and demanded to know if he was okay, got another partial answer, another dodge, another thing for the list of shit his friend wouldn't talk about.

They fought about it. Loud enough as Eddie shouted into the phone that his neighbor banged on the wall. Maybe Eddie crossed a line. Maybe he crossed it a long while back. He didn't know. Eddie kept calling until September, but on the rare times that Steve answered, it was awkward and curt and terrible. He stopped trying when Wayne told him that Steve never stopped by, or even waved when they crossed paths.

Steve wanted it over, and it was so fucking weird. The guy slammed into Eddie's life out of nowhere, shifted it, changed the course, cause there was no way in hell Eddie would have graduated if it wasn't for Steve forcing him to try. The guy did all that, and nine months later, was gone again. Out of his life.

It was a week after new rumors reached him in February of 86 that a package arrived. His uncle called outside their normal plans, and said it wasn't sure yet, that there wasn't any proof, but Steve was missing, and some of those kids of his said he'd saved their lives. Said that he wasn't going to come back. Wayne didn't really understand what it meant, but passed on a message from those kids that they'd answer when he called.

Eddie got a box a week after finding out that Steve was gone, full of letters. Long, detailed, apologetic letters. The first was dated in December of 84, written after Steve spent a weekend 'out of his body' just like he wanted to be. The promises at the start didn't make sense. Steve said he'd save him. Steve said he'd make sure he got out. The apologies got more complex. Something about keeping Eddie away from friends he'd never make. About being selfish. About keeping secrets and lying when all he really wanted was to tell Eddie everything.

It was so fucking weird.

The last one was dated a couple days before things went bad in Hawkins, longer than all of the others. Monsters and nightmares and death and chance to make it right. Apologies for not doing it better, doing it sooner. For not wanting to risk it, for pushing Eddie away. Promises that Steve would call him as soon as it was over, that he was only writing this just in case. That it wouldn't ever be sent, and he'd burn the whole box after they won. Then he'd drive up and apologize in person, explain it in person, fix it, because Eddie meant more to him that Steve had ever let show, and he wanted to make it right.

At the bottom was a post script.

"Eds, If it doesn't work out, call this number, and ask for Robin. She knows the whole thing. She'll help. So will the kids. I hope you never read this. So I'm sorry if you are."

#my writing #steve and eddie #warmup writing #ficlet

[rafeandonlyrafe]

reluctant friends to lovers

words: 1.8k

week one of class 

“are you freaking serious.” you whisper to yourself, seeing his name on the sheet next to yours. you were hoping for basically anyone else, the ditzy blond who you know you’ll have to carry throughout the whole course, or the quiet kid who you’d never have a not-awkward conversation with. but, that’s not who you get as your lab partner. you get rafe cameron.

he slides up next to you, big smile on his face. “hi beautiful.” he says, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. rafe is nice to you, too nice. you’ve been in a couple classes with him before, and it’s always the same. he flirts heavily with you, invites you on dates, to parties, dismayed when you say no like always. you were flattered at first, thinking he was actually into you, but you should have known it was too good to be true. you see him every week with a new girl, and he probably just wants to add you to his list of conquests.

“hey rafe.” you let out a sigh with your words, but he doesn’t have time to respond as your professor begins to speak. you flip your notebook to a fresh page, starting to jot down notes. geology is not your favorite subject, but it’s a required class for your degree. you’re not even sure what degree rafe is going for, or why he is even here. you know from the gossip around the school that he comes from money.

whats your degree? you write on the back of your syllabus. 

business rafe writes back. that makes sense. you’re not sure what business his family is in, but you’re guessing they forced him into getting a degree. it’s not that he’s not smart, he seems to pass all his classes, but he clearly much rather spend all his time partying. what’s yours?

political science with a minor in communications. 

rafe ooo’s quietly, showing his impressment with your choice of degree. you smirk and roll your eyes. 

you don't even get to any lab work today, it's just the professor going over what the semester looks like and giving you some reading to prepare for your lab next week. 

"see you next week." you say, not wanting to give rafe time to chat you up again as you hurry out of the class. when you look back you think rafe looks almost disappointed.

week two of class

"did you do your prep work?" you ask rafe. you're honestly not sure why you're so confident he didn't. maybe it's because his priorities always seem elsewhere.

"of course." rafe pulls his lab book out, and the first page is done. you nod in approval.

"should be easy anyways." rafe says. "i mean today is literally just testing the hardness of different rocks. how bad can that be?"

you shrug. you have no interest in science, and while you enjoy nature, knowing what kind of rocks you are stepping on is not something you're truly interested in. 

your attention turns to your professor while he does a quick introduction, but after that, its all you and rafe.

you work down the list of rocks, seeing what it scratches or what scratches it.

"okay." you set the rock down, frustrated with it. "i can't freaking tell if this is leaving a scratch or if it's just residue." you let out a huff. this is not going to be your favorite class, but you already knew that when you saw who would be working with you all semester.

"relax." rafe let's out a chuckle, picking the rock up. "ill help." rafe does the same thing you just did, getting his face awfully close to the rock, and all you do is sit there and admire his side profile. he's handsome, but after seeing his tongue down five different girls throats last semester, you know to stay away.

"i think it is scratching, yeah." rafe nods, and you mark it down on your sheet.

"thanks." maybe this partnership wouldn't be so bad after all.

"you can thank me by going on a date with me friday night." nevermind. 

week three of class

“did i miss in the reading what geomechanical tests are?” you ask, flipping through your textbook.

“here, hold on.” rafe reaches over to flip to a specific page, pointing out the section that explains it all.

“thanks.” you nod, quickly reading the section as rafe prepares the materials for the lab today.

you’re about to get started when a pretty brunette comes up to your table, leaning across you to talk to rafe, “hey handsome.”

you cringe, looking to rafe, who doesn’t seem all that interested. must be last weeks conquest. old news.

“hey kelsey.” he says, not even bothering to look up from his paper.

“are you coming to my party this weekend?” she asks. 

“need to study.” rafe says. you hold back a laugh. it’s the third week of class, there’s nothing to study for, and kelsey must know that as she stalks away.

“why do you do that?” you ask before you can help yourself.

“do what?” rafe looks up at you, but you just shake your head.

“nevermind.” you don’t want to explain that you’re more interested in studying whats going on in rafes head rather than the rocks in front of you.

week five of class

“i can’t believe we already have a pop quiz.” you thought you liked this professor originally, but maybe not anymore. 

“at least we can work together.” you guess that was the one saving grace of it.

“you’re gonna have to carry me through this.” you say honestly.

“you know, it’s actually nice to know there is one thing you’re not good at.” rafe says as the professor hands out your quiz. you let out a sigh of relief seeing its only one page.

“what do you mean? i’m averaging like a 3.0 right now.” “really?” rafe looks shocked. “i always just assumed you were top of the class because you never party or go out.” you let out a little laugh, shaking your head as you write down your name on the top of the paper. “i’m just not really a party person, that’s all.”

week six of class

“i can’t believe i’m saying yes to this.” you hand your phone to rafe, letting him put his number in it.

“oh come on, we are getting pizza and then studying together. it’s not like i’m asking for your hand in marriage.” “alright, just don’t mistake it for a date.” “wouldn’t dream of it.” rafe says, but sounds disappointed.

week seven of class

you laugh and lean into rafe, it feels natural, the way your body presses against his, if only for a moment. he googled some dumb geology jokes to make you feel better with studying for midterms. they’re awful dad jokes, but that just makes them even funnier.

“please come over again to study.” rafe says as the class is nearing the end. your professor gave you an entire class to study and use the materials in the lab, but you’ll need to go over the textbook for the written portion.

“yeah, it was actually fun last time.” you admit. not that you didn’t expect it to be, but you went on got pizza with rafe, eating it on campus, then headed to his condo just outside of campus to study. it’s a really nice one, and you figure his family must be paying for it. you wish you could live without any roommates, but you’re stuck in the cheap dorms.

“great. i’ll text you a good time.”

week ten of class

“please just talk to me.” rafe says, grabbing your hand, which you quickly snatch out of his grip.

“i am talking to you.” you say with a sigh.

“i mean about what happened i would understand if you’re upset.” 

“we should really focus on the lab, rafe. he said this would be on our final exam.” you turn back to your work, hoping rafe would do the same, but he’s persistent.

“i kissed another girl and you saw it, you’re allowed to be upset, but if you’d just let me explain-” “we are not together!” you say loudly, getting a couple people at the tables near you to turn and stare. “we are not together, rafe.” you say quieter now. “so kiss whoever you want, i don’t care.” “i know we’re not together but we had something good going and i don’t want this to end because i’m an idiot.”

“nothing has ended. we weren’t together before and we aren’t together now. we aren’t even friends, we are just lab partners. now stop before i walk out of here right now. we have work to do.”

week eleven of class

“thanks for ruining him, bitch.” 

you look up confused, sure that the girl isn’t talking to you, but you look up to kelsey staring back at you. “excuse me?” “rafe. he didn’t throw his party this weekend because he was being a crybaby over you. he was hooking up with my friend but he won’t do that now that you turned him down. god, it was so much better before you had to sink your claws into him.” and with that, she stalks away.

you wait in shock until rafe comes in, frowning and for once silent as he slides into his seat.

“rafe.” you say. “can we talk?” “oh, now you wanna talk?” rafe scoffs. 

“i- i didn’t know you were serious about us. i thought i was just another name to add to your list. i didn’t realize that you were actually hurt.” “of course i’m actually hurt. i never once tried to hook up with you, it was always more serious than that. when i hook up with a girl, they know that’s all i’m interested in. i tell them that’s all they’re going to get out from me. it’s never a secret.”

“i’m so sorry i judged you too quickly.” you say, placing your hand experimentally on top of rafes. you honestly can’t blame him if he doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore.

“it’s okay.” rafe turns his hand over to lace your fingers together. “can we give us an actual shot now?” “yes.” you squeeze his hand. “yes.”

week thirteen of class

“you nervous for the exam?” rafe asks.

“nope.” you lean into his side. “because i’ve got a great partner.” “great in more ways than one, huh?” rafe pecks your lips, but you stop him from pulling away, deepening the kiss.

“great at geology is the main thing that matters right now.” you say with a giggle.

rafe wraps his arm around your waist, thumb rubbing gently over the skin between your shirt and jeans. you smile at him, even as your professor begins to explain your lab.

#obxweek23 #reupload! #rafe fic #rafe fanfic #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron one shot

[bingbongsupremacy]

Maybe Someday

Pairing: Joel Miller x older!Reader

Warnings: Idk anything about horses or how to prep them for rides.

Summary: You've been hardcore crushing on your neighbor Joel Miller since the day he, Tess and Ellie arrived in Jackson. Rumor has it he's in a relationship with Tess. Maybe someday he'll finally return your feelings.

*Not Proof Read* TLOU Masterlist

I did my best not to mention anything very descriptive in this. Nothing about looks, gender, race, etc. If I messed up on anything please let me know. Thank you!

*****

" Stop day dreaming about Joel and get back to work, will ya? I'm trying to be out of here before I turn 90. " Maria's tone is laced with amusement.

I snap my eyes away from the man across the street. A warm rush crawls up my cheeks and I quickly turn my attention to the horse in front of me. " I'm not staring at anyone. " I argue, making sure Maria's horse's stirrups are secured properly.

" Sure, Y/N. " Maria chuckles slightly before getting up on the horse.

A small gruff laughter snaps my attention right back to Joel. He pats Ellie on the head before hopping onto his horse. Our eyes don't meet as he walks past the stall, his attention fully on the kid walking besides him.

" You know, there someone new in town I think you'd get along with. " Maria hums. " He's one of the new ones we brought in last week. "

I shake my head. " I'm good Maria. "

" What? Why? " Maria asks while we walk out of the stalls.

My nose scrunches at the thought of the last blind date Maria set me up on . The man was anything but a charmer, insisting on asking uncomfortable questions the moment we met up at the bar. Todd still winks at me whenever we happen to run into each other. " You don't have the best record for blind dates. "

" That's not true. " Maria shakes her head. " Sure, a few of them were misses, sure. But what about Jimmy? He was definitely a looker. "

I roll my eyes. " Maria! "

" What? I'm married, not dead. " She chuckles. The early morning sun sends a small glow over Jackson, making the normally bustling town seem slightly abandoned. Most people aren't out of their homes yet.

" He's only about 10 years younger than me. He was attractive though, I'll give you that. " Maria's obsession with setting me up on blind dates is at times, irritating. I understand she wants me to feel the same happiness she feels with Tommy, I'd just rather find it on my time. Besides, it wouldn't be fair to date someone while my mind's stuck on Joel.

I shouldn't be this flustered at the thought of our past conversations. They've always been polite and...normal. No romance in sight. Nothing worthy of replaying in my head over and over.

Somehow my heart doesn't seem to understand. When I look at Joel I feel like a teenager with a strong crush on a kid in their class. It's...ridiculous. I'm not a teenager and I haven't been for years.

So why doesn't this stupid crush understand?

" Just give it a shot, will you? One last time. If this one ends badly, I'll let go of all this forever. "

Maria and I arrive at the gate where Joel, Tommy and one of the newer residents are waiting.

" Fine. One shot. " I sigh.

A grin breaks out on Maria's face. " I'll let him know. "

I really don't understand why I agreed. Every blind date I've ever gone on has ended up in either heartbreak or disappointment. I guess part of me hopes she's finally setting me up with the one man I really want her to.

He has a girlfriend.

Maybe. They haven't fully come out as a couple. The lingering touches are hard to ignore though.

It's never going to happen. I need to drop it.

" Safe trip guys. " I smile at the patrol groups around the gate.

I watch as the group disappears outside of the gates. With a sigh, I turn around and head back to the stables.

Maybe this date turn out okay.

+++++

I was wrong.

I'm going to kill Maria.

It's been half an hour and I'm already thinking of ways to lose this guy.

" I'd protect you. With me, you have nothing to worry about. " Ryan states confidently while taking a swig from his moonshine. " I've killed so many of those freaks, it's child's play now. "

This man has spent the last ten minutes raving about his excellent infected killing skills.

We're in a world surrounded with infected every day, what on earth makes him think I want to think about it more?

" Mhm. " I hum while taking a sip of my own drink.

I glance around the very busy bar. It's a Friday night after all, everyone and their mother is here. My eyes land on Joel's familiar form. He's seated a few feet away at the bar, his back completely to the table Ryan and I are at.

I was so preoccupied with drinking enough alcohol to help me tolerate the man across from me that I hadn't realized he'd sat down.

" I've had a really good time with you. " Ryan smiles widely.

Wish I could say the same. He spent the entire time talking. I could hardly get a word in. I've never seen a person with so much to say. Now that I think about it, I've never met someone with such a big ego either. You'd think this guy saved humanity or something.

Stop. Be polite.

I force a smile. " I completely agree. " I lie through clenched teeth. I'm counting down the minutes until it turns 10. I told Maria I'd stay an hour and I intend to follow through with that but man is this guy making it hard.

A short, gruff chuckle softly fills my ears. I glance over at Joel. He takes a swig of his drink, trying to hide the fact he was laughing.

He's listening.

" You know, when Maria said she was going to set me up with an older person, I have to admit, I was a bit hesitant at first. "

" Oh? " I raise an eyebrow at Ryan's remark. Where is he going with this?

Maria hadn't told me she was setting me up with another younger guy. She'd probably thought I would've immediately shot the idea down. She wasn't wrong.

Ryan nods. " Yeah, I've had my fair share of fucking old timers and I usually get stuck doing all the work but I have a feeling you're different. "

What the actual fuck.

I stare at the man across from me in shock. " Excuse me? " What the fuck am I supposed to say to that? Thank you?

" What I'm trying to say is, I think you're hot. We should go back to my place. Have a little fun, if you know what I mean. " Ryan smirks while making a gesture with his hand.

Well, that took a turn.

I shake my head, pushing myself away from the table. " I'm not interested. Thanks for the drink, but I should be going. " I grab my jacket and begin to pull it on.

So much for trying to make it to an hour. This guy is insane.

" Wait, you don't have to go. We could have fun. You look like the type to need a little more fun in your life. " Ryan stands up after me.

" Seriously, I'm ok. You have a good night. " I turn to leave.

Ryan quickly grabs my arm, trying to prevent me from leaving. " I literally gave you a fucking compliment a few minutes ago. You should be grateful I'm even willing to sleep with someone like you. I fucking lowered my standards for this. "

" Please let go of me. " I attempt to seem less shaken then I am.

Ryan doesn't listen. " You owe me. "

" Let go. " Joel's suddenly right next to Ryan. " Or I'll help you let go. "

Ryan glares at Joel. " What's your deal, man? This is a private conversation. Butt the fuck out. "

Joel ignores him, wrapping his hand over Ryan's. He yanks Ryan's arm off of me. " My 'deal' is you're a complete asshole who doesn't understand when someone is saying no. "

Ryan pulls his arm away from Joel, his face turning red from rage. " Fuck you, man. "

Joel's eyes darken. " Get the fuck out of this bar. If I see you around Y/N again you're a dead man. "

The threat sends a cold shiver down my spine. He's serious. There's no way he's not.

Ryan looks like he's about to say something else when Joel sends him a sharp look. Without another word, Ryan pushes past me, completely ignoring me in the process. "

The drama caused a few people to tune into the conversation.

Slightly embarrassed, I try to focus on Joel. " Thank you. " I mumble, rubbing my arm slightly. Even though his hand is gone, I can still feel how hard he was holding onto me.

This could've gone so badly tonight if Joel wasn't here. Thank god he was here.

" No need to thank me. That guy was a fucking asshole. Here, let me buy you a drink. I'm sure you're shaken up after that. " Joel gestures to the empty barstool near his abandoned seat.

I hesitate for a moment. Part of me wants to go back to the safety of my home. The other part is eager to have a chance to talk with Joel again. Deep down, I'm also slightly afraid Ryan might be waiting outside to get back at me.

" Sure. " I agree, taking a seat. The counter is sticky and cool under my arms.

Now that the drama is over, everyone's returned back to their previous conversations.

" Are you alright? " Joel asks.

I let out a sigh. " Just a little shaken up. And...confused. " let out a small uncomfortable laugh. " That was the most fucking confusing date of my life. I can't believe Maria tried to set me up with someone who talks like that. "

Joel grunts. " She's so invested in playing cupid that she's completely forgotten some people shouldn't be dating. "

" You've got that right. I'm pretty sure she's just setting me up with anyone who's available at this point. " I shake my head and gently swirl the alcohol the bartender handed to me. " I am never dating again. "

" That's a shame. " Joel takes a sip of his cup, his eyes trained in front of him. " I would've liked to take you out. "

What? My heart pounds.

My eyebrows furrow in confusion. " Aren't you dating Jess? "

Joel's eyes widen as he looks over at me. " Jess? "

I nod slowly. " Yeah, aren't you guys dating? "

Joel shakes his head. " No. We're...we're not dating. We used to for a brief while before we came to Jackson, but things didn't work out. She fell in love with another guy. "

Whoa. I really read that wrong.

" Oh, I'm sorry. I had no idea. "

Joel shakes his head. " It's all good. We weren't right for each other. " Joel is silent for a moment. " I'm sorry he treated you like that tonight. "

I shrug. " It's alright. It's what it is. "

" No, it's not. Nobody should be treated like that, especially you. " Joel turns so he's slightly facing me. " Look, I know you're not interested in dating again right now, but if you ever change your mind I'd love to take you out. Show you how a date should really go. "

Butterflies begin to flutter in my stomach. This is like a dream come true.

" I'd love that. " I reply with a grin. " I might have to take you up on that offer. I think I'm just not interested in blind dates anymore. "

A small smile breaks onto Joel's face, a rare sight. " Sounds like a plan then. How does tomorrow night sound? "

" Perfect. "

#fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #x you #x female reader #joel miller x plus size reader #joel miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #xreader #x chubby reader #x plus size reader #the last of us x reader #reader x character

[leeofthevoid]

Did we or Did we not?

Part Two of Not so Meet-Cute

Farleigh x Reader

a/n: I did think about adding SMUT. I really did. I just don't have the heart to make half-assed SMUT scenes that people would dislike anyways, and I kind of wanted a Fluffy Farleigh fic that still had his usual sass. I love you all so much!

Word Count: 3635

Warnings: Explicit content, Mature Content, Strong Language, 16+

Annabel and India never gave up on your dating life, but you sure have for months now. It's just the same damn thing over and over again, and it was stupid. The boys are all okay at first, but then they disappear from the area. Farleigh swoops in and asks you to make out again, and you just entertain him. It sucks having to bruise your ego every now and then. 

What's worse? Farleigh points that out whenever you two are on each other's nerves. 

"Annabel and India won't stop setting me up for dates." You passively say while lying on his bed, his head on your stomach. He had your shared cigarette in between his fingers while chuckling. "It's getting sadder and sadder by the minute. Are you that desperate?"

You smack him on the forehead, earning a pinch on your thigh. "Farleigh!"

"What? You did it first." You rolled your eyes and stole the cigarette, inhaling deeply to calm your nerves. "I mean, did you tell them you want to stop?" He asked, raising his head to make eye contact for a split second before settling on your stomach again. 

You puff out and sigh. "Well, that's the thing…I kind of don't want to stop? If you get to have sex, why can't I?"

"Because you don't want us to?" 

"And get all your diseases? Bitch, please." You hear a low chuckle from him, reminding you that he is still the same American bitch you dislike. "But be honest, why do you not want to take it up a notch? Am I just your designated boob sucker? Or am I not too English for you? Oh, oh, oh! Maybe you prefer ugly men." You scoff and push his head off, but he is pretty adamant about lying down on it. 

"Eugh, it's just weird, okay? You had your chance, but you blew it last year." You sat up and looked down at his stupid face. 

"And why can't I have a second?" He mockingly fluttered his eyelashes. "Because you dragged me to your bed just because one of your little toys can't come in this morning." He scrunched up his nose and groaned, "Touché." 

You push him off to stand and fix yourself in front of the mirror in his room, a burst of annoyance nagging at you when you see your reflection. "Farleigh! I said no fucking marks!" It was everywhere. On your neck, chest, back?! Not even a single place untouched by that little shit. 

Farleigh walks up to you with a grin, placing his chin on your shoulder, hands wrapped around your waist. "I know a place I could put them where no one can see." He hummed. You rolled your eyes and shoved him away from you. 

"You don't deserve it." He raised his eyebrows at you, leaning on the cabinet next to you and checking the time. "We have class, babes. Time for you to cover that up." He got a sweater from the cabinet, threw it at you, and fixed himself. 

Another day, another regret of wearing a strapless top you had to cover because of Farleigh. What a dreadful day for fashion. 

Walking down the hallway, India fell into step with you with another juicy gossip. She paused and looked at the sweater that clearly did not match the black pencil skirt and spiky boots you had going on. "Farleigh made you do his homework again?" You nodded and sighed. 

"Babes, this is a sign to sit next to that smart kid in our class. He could totally at least get homework out of your hands." She had this impressed look on her face and linked her arm around yours. "Imagine the power couple of the year!"

"No way. Do you not notice how he picks his nose?" Farleigh pointed that out when the guy walked past you a few weeks back. "Oh. Ew, alright, never mind." She scrunched up her face and started to talk about the other guy.

It was a few hours after classes, and India had this giddy smile. She separated from you when you went to class and quickly looked for you when you were dismissed. "India, hiding something from me?" She giggled and walked you to a table with Annabel, a boy beside her. Oh fuck.

"And he just threw it?"

"Yes! He had this whole speech about being able to afford another one!"

You and Farleigh laugh while sitting on the bed of another house party you were dragged to. "There's no way he could replace that. You know that kid got here because his mother was hot?"

Your eyes grew big, and a gasp came out of your mouth. "No way!"

"Yes, way. One of the board members had a huge crush on her, and when she begged him, he didn't think twice." You both laugh as you gossip about that guy you had a terrible 'date' with three weeks back.

"I still can't get over how he insulted your sweater and my ring. He went on and on about how cheap the fabric was, how it washed out my 'beauty,' and how my ring seemed to have a fake red diamond." He gasped, eyes in disbelief. He sat crossed leg with a pillow he clutched tightly when you told him more about the disastrous date. 

"Oh god, how dare he? That sweater probably costs more than his flat." He scoffs, clearly irritated by the dislike of his fashionable clothes. "I know right! You're horrible, but you at least have taste in clothes." You both burst out laughing, Farleigh shoving you while you tried to breathe.

"Fuuuuck! Annabel and India are such idiots. How could they not tell the fake Piaget he was flaunting." A sigh escaped your lips as you leaned back on the headboard. "Trust me, I've been to worse. I just didn't appreciate the casual flaunting and the insulting." Farleigh raised an eyebrow and scooted next to you to sit back. "He told me, "What is that bloody junk doing on your delicate hand? Someone must really hate you for giving you a fake." Like, seriously?" 

Farleigh made an amused sound, and then a smirk followed. "The wicked witch and the fake ass bitch. Sounds meant to be." He smirked, earning him a ton of smacks and slaps. It ended up in you two play fighting, grunts, and victorious laughs tossed here and there. When you both settled, sprawled on the bed, heaving air, you got to thinking. "I need alcohol and a line or two…Maybe even a joint." Farleigh craned his neck to you and shuffled to stand up. "We're at a party for a reason; stand up, my dear! This party needs us!" You giggle and take the hand he outstretched to pull you up. 

You were totaled, and the amount of things you took was wild. And you sure as hell did suffer so severely the next day. You wake up in someone else's bed, your head pounding and your body sore. Fuck, this soreness was definitely not from partying too hard. "Fuck!" 

"Shut up." You shot your head to look at the space next to you, moving from under the covers to avoid the sun. You were too groggy to retaliate and can't even register your surroundings yet. It was just sore and not in a terrible way. Just the sore you get when you've spent the whole night having…Sex. 

Fuck! The panic set in, and you checked under the covers. Yup, that is your naked body under there. What a fucking idiot, how could this happen? There were a ton of drinks, but were you that shitfaced you couldn't even remember?

You wasted no time pulling the covers to wake the stranger, which might have made your blood run cold. 

"Ahhhhhh!" You couldn't stop screaming bloody murder when Farleigh shot up and looked around to check what the commotion was about. "What! What!" 

"You!" You clutched the cover to your chest and threw pillows at him. "Farleigh, what the fuck is happening!" 

He paused for a moment and then realized," Shit, how? When?" 

"I don't know!"

"Did we…"

"I'm fucking sore, so yeah, we definitely did." He groaned and quickly got up to run into the bathroom, snagging his clothes from the floor on the way. 

You huffed and pulled the covers up to look for your clothes, carefully picking them from the floor. Your legs were wobbly, but you could still wear your clothes again…Or what's left. There were weird tears on them, and you hated the party even more now. I guess you were glad to at least wake up in the familiar space of Farleigh's dorm room instead of the house where the party started. 

You sat down on the bed again when he came out. "So…"

"Do you remember anything, Farleigh?" He sat down on his study chair, creaking under his weight. "I don't remember much, to be honest. I just remembered playing many games with Felix, and we absolutely crushed that idiot's ego. I saw you making out with two guys at once, too. Uhm…” 

You choked, eyes widening, not believing the last thing you did. It may be best not to remember much. "I'm sore." He looked at you, and a slight smirk plastered his lips. 

"Well, I'm going to take that as a compliment." 

"Oh, shove off!" His face rested on the palm of his hand, looking as smug as ever. "As if you totally didn't imagine me as one of your gross professors, you weirdo."

"And you must have fantasized about being under one of Felix's blonde posh friends." Still triumphant as ever, this ass. "As if! Did you know Ellis didn't use deodorant until Felix gave him a spare? Or that Matthew doesn't bel-"

"Believe in condoms? Yes, I do. Little Matty wanted a piece of your man, but I refused." You can't help but crack a grin at his twisted form of acknowledgment that he was not an easy catch.

You wanted to look at him longer when his door suddenly opened, Felix crashing in, looking excited. "Holy fuck, Far. You guys were at it the whole night the fucking R.A. almost went in due to noise complaint." You sighed and sat up. "Felix, best to shut the door before telling your fun little story."

Felix chuckled and closed the door behind him, then sat on the floor, his body trying hard not to bombard you with gossip. "Holy shit, guys, one of the T.A.s went to the party, and the dude was a massive lightweight. Even dunked his head in the fountain on the way back just to wake him up." Farleigh barely listened, but you loved blackmail so much that you could not let it pass. 

"I'm actually kind of interested as to how we fucked?" Farleiigh pointed at you and himself, getting even more excited that he had to stand up. "Okay, okay. So basically, you two were just partying and playing some games with us when India told her," He pointed at you, "To chug like, what? A whole bottle of Vodka! By the way, I respect you so much for that." You chuckle at his boyish daftness that you can't even comment. 

"Then holy fuck! When we all got out of the party, Annabel and I were kind of doing our thing when Farleigh almost broke my door demanding for an extra condom!" Farleigh turned and massaged his temple. At the same time, he bit his lip in surprise. You could only cover your mouth to hide yours. "Holy shit! You guys went on for hours, and I had to switch locations because we could not get our thing going!" The annoying thing about Felix was that he was so passionate that even his arms could not stop moving to emphasize whatever he deemed interesting. 

"Stop, stop, stop," Farleigh said, eyes shut and index fingers plugged in his ears. He's right. This was a ton of information on a Sunday morning. 

"Felix, let's grab breakfast first. This is just a one-time thing; it won't happen again. Go and tell Annie we'll be at the café in a bit. "Alright, mate. See you later, wild ones." 

A beat of silence finally returned to the room when you and Farleigh looked at each other. "See you later." He nodded, and you went to who knows where to get fresh air. 

How did this happen? You guys promised to the one thing off-limits, and all crashed down in one night. Oh well, it won't happen again.

Right?

Farleigh was groaning beside you for the nth time while you gave him headache medication to ease up his pain. The class hasn't even started yet, but most of the students looked like they were about to pass out.

It was almost like the world hated you. You get your fix of sexual need, but the catch is you don't know how it went. The only thing you know is that you do it with Farleigh. Happens every two weeks. 

Compared to India and Annabel, who was passed out in last night's clothes, you at least had the decency to change into new ones that were more decent but still screamed 'Hot bitch’.

"Babes, this lecture is killing me." You shake your head as he grumbles more about how he probably did all the work last night that's why you were in less pain. Little shit. 

"Shut up, you little baby. We both know you're a whiney fuck that likes to be bottom." He shot you a glare and continued to silently nurse himself back to health. Silently whimpering while he basically put his whole body weight on you. 

It felt weird. It was like the night you two do it, you can't remember a thing. He doesn't either. In fact, that bitch sometimes blames you for 'touching his beautiful body' like a dramatic fucker he is. It happens every two weeks, and at this point, you don't mind anymore. 

From someone you hated so much, you two became closer friends than India ever was with you. Farleigh had all the gossip and snide remarks you never got from your girlfriends. You matched his energy and were very candor about the people he talks about. 

Class ended and you had to wake Farleigh up. "Farleigh, wake up." 

"No." He whined. 

"And if I pour water on your new velvet shirt?" 

His eyes shot up and sat back, glaring at you. "You'd never." 

"I would." A smug look on your face as you stood up and followed the wave of students walking out the class. 

Felix all texted you to meet up at the pub later that night. Farleigh decided to get ready together at your dorm, a decision you never had a chance to stop. 

"Hey, Farleigh, do you think I'm sometimes trying too hard to get a guy?" He looked at your reflection as he was fixing his hair. "Don't we all try too hard?" He used his hands to make his curls more prominent and kept. 

You creased your forehead, thinking too deeply enough to draw blood while biting down your bottom lip. "I mean…It just feels like I'm doing things to amuse you a lot. I feel like I gave up a long time ago."

He turned his head to look at you, stopping whatever he did and sighed. "Hey, not feeling like partying?" You nodded and sat on the bed, slumping your back. "No. I don't feel like doing anything much to be honest." 

Farleigh's eyes flashed recognition, and he sat next to you, placing his head on yours. "It's your time of the month, isn't it?" Confusion shot in your mind but you still nodded. How the fuck did he know? "...How?" He chuckled and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. '"You get all sentimental and overthink. I'd rather stay in too. If you're not there, what's the point of being in a boring party." You don't know what wave of emotion came over you, but you felt so nice that tears welled up in your eyes. 

In a twisted way, this idiot got to your heart in his own way. Without Felix or India to force you to be together in a room or a park date that they concocted just to play cupid. You liked seeing this side of him that was far from that asshole you met in first year. 

You appreciated him so much that you were afraid of the possibility that the asshole got his second chance of 'shooting his shot'. He was too good to be true, and you didn't want to lose that. He was too important just for your measly feelings to ruin what you had. 

Even after that whole ordeal, Farleigh became more attentive and he looked more beautiful in your eyes for some reason. He always makes time for you and was never shy to ask for your help in his essays and other things he knew you excelled at. 

The one time you knew you were disgustingly in love with him was when you were at your weakest during the year. When your grandfather died. 

He was so kind and so loving. He was the one who pushed you to still hangout with people so you won't die of loneliness in your dorm room. The one to lie next to you when you had to cry so much that you got sick at night. The one who took notes from your classes that you missed while you grieved. He was also kind enough to teach you about the rock tradition his family had, which helped you a ton. 

He was just so imperfectly perfect. 

When you finally got better, finished finals, and was in the time of the term to get ready for summer break, you had the courage to confess.

He lounged on your bed with that bitchy bored expression of his as you paced the room back and forth. "Baby, stop doing that and just tell me what's up. You're making me fucking dizzy, love." You stopped and rolled your eyes before sitting at the edge of the bed beside him. 

"Farleigh, I have to tell you something. It's really important that you don't fucking make fun of me or else I will kill your whole family and leave the country afterwards." He crossed his arms over his chest and breathed out. "Go on then, I'm listening."

You paused and took out a small bottle of tequila, downing it quickly to gain some liquid courage that you badly needed. "Woah morning drinks already." You glared at him as he stuck his tongue out at you. 

"So! Farleigh Start. You shitty bitch that replaced me with another person while we were on a date last year. The idiot that asks me to make-out with him that I can't say no because you're undeniably good. The asshole that I fight with all the time."

"Wow, it's like a proclamation of hate." You covered your hand on his running mouth while clearing your throat. "Farleigh…" He rolled his eyes and sat back. You removed your hand and slowly fidgeted with your sheets. 

"Farleigh, I think I like you." 

You ran all scenarios in your head for what reaction you will get but probably missed this one. He scoffed. The type of scoff that makes you think he knows for a long time now.

"Fucking finally." You gave him a confused look, he simply rolled his eyes keeping up with the bitchy act. 

"Do you know how long I've been waiting for this? You know you're such an oblivious prick sometimes it hurts my head." You gave him a look while he went on, "Um…What the fuck?"

"Babes, everything I did for you. It was my shot to try and redeem myself for a second chance. The moment you called me out in that bathroom I realized what I lost." You smirked, "My beautiful face and striking personality?" 

"That and… You're you. You don't try too hard. I did! I tried so fucking hard to actually get you to talk to me more. And you know what's worse? Kissing you makes it hard to kiss other people!"

You rolled your eyes yet again because it sounded way too condescending for someone who wants you to like them. Idiot. 

"No, listen. You don't get it. Kissing you felt like something that wasn't lust or boredom. You knew how to kiss well and I was bewitched!" 

"Exaggerating won't help your case after downplaying my confession." You crossed your leg over the other to add a bit more sass in your words. 

"I like you too, Y/N. I like you so much that I stopped doing my American slut façade and just wanted to be there for you. Unlike Felix and my supposed family, I felt like I was seen for who I was." 

It was touching and honest. You saw his eyes getting glossier while emphasizing his own twisted confession. You held his hand and kissed it. "You know. I'm not a jealous person, so I probably missed the part where you ask for forgiveness for doing the tango with other people." 

"How could I when I do it with a ninety-year-old by soul bitch who had sex with me multiple times when we were black-out drunk." You smiled and pinched his cheeks hard. 

"I hate you, Farleigh." 

"I love you too." He said with a genuine smile. 

You looked into his eyes and sighed. This asshole really made you do all that just to make you realize he liked you. What a prick. 

But he's your prick now.

a/n: What if Farleigh Racer AU next?

#farleigh start #saltburn fics #farleigh x reader #farleigh x you #saltburn movie #felix catton #farleigh and you #save my love #deserves the world #ples send prompts

[grandwretch]

only i must wander

[chapter one] [on AO3]

In the months before Steve's graduation, he and Dustin had something of a routine going on. Every Friday afternoon, Steve would pick Dustin up from Hawkins Middle School and they would drive out to the McDonald's one exit over. They even ordered the same thing every week: A Big Mac for Steve, nuggets for Dustin, two Cokes, and a supersized fry. After driving slowly back to Hawkins they would eat in the arcade parking lot, and when they were done they would either spend the rest of the afternoon trying to kill each other over air hockey or renting shitty science fiction movies. Whichever Dustin wanted, really. 

It wasn't anything like Steve's life had been just six months ago, but he loved every second of it. Even when Dustin was getting mud all over his upholstery and asking too many questions. 

On that particular Friday night, Steve had been late picking Dustin up because Mrs. O'Donnell had stopped him in the hallway on the way out, for the third time this month. Some bullshit about him not "applying" himself, or whatever, and how she didn't "feel it was right" that Steve had passed her class when he'd obviously learned so little. Which was bullshit, Steve thought, because she taught fucking English, which he already spoke, and he'd been pulling solid C's in her class all semester. 

So most of the conversation had been about that, really, with Steve complaining about how every teacher he'd ever had hated him, and Dustin scolding him just as fiercely as any teacher ever had. A typical Friday night. 

Tonight, however, Dustin paused, mid-sentence.

"Are you ever going to tell me why your eyes do that when you're mad?" 

Steve paused, a french fry halfway to his mouth. He looked over at Dustin, who was staring at him from the passenger seat. He was almost used to it, a kid spending every day in the seat next to him instead of Nancy or Tommy, but big, curious eyes still threw him off from time to time. Especially when they came paired with off the wall questions like this. 

"Why do my eyes do what, Dustin?" 

"You know," Dustin said, gesturing to Steve's face with his burger. "When you get mad they go all black and stuff. Kinda like El's do when she uses her powers, but you don't--" Steve had never seen Eleven actually fight, but he had seen her do small tricks now and again for the boys. Her eyes were more like pits, her entire face wrinkling around the deep depths. Steve felt his stomach churn just thinking about the same in his own face. 

The reflection in the rearview mirror was the same as it had always been. Hazel eyes, smooth skin marred only by a few moles. Steve made himself breathe. 

"I think I would know," Steve said, keeping his voice carefully steady. He was trying to be less bitchy around the kids, but sometimes they made it so goddamn hard. "--if my face looked like that. It probably-- It probably hurts, right?" 

"Not really," Dustin said, with enough conviction that it tore Steve's gaze away from his own reflection. "Anyway, it's not your face. It's just your eyes. Look, I don't know what kind of Wesen you are, man, but you can talk to me about it, whatever it is. You know I'm one, too, right?"

"A-- a what?" If this was another one of those weird fantasy novel things, he was going to finally strangle the little shit, he really was. 

"A Wesen," Dustin repeated, looking as confused as Steve felt. "Like-- like me and El."

'Like me and El,' Steve thought, turning the sentence around in his head. He was not equipped for this, Jesus. It had to be hard, growing up fighting monsters and stuff, and having one of your best friends be a weird ass superhero, but Steve hadn't expected Dustin to deal with it by playing pretend. He'd always been the most grounded in reality of the kids. It was why Steve could put up with him for more than a couple hours. 

"Buddy, maybe you should talk to your mom about this stuff," Steve said, slowly. "Or like Mrs. Byers or somebody." 

Dustin rolled his eyes, which Steve thought was pretty rich coming from someone sitting in his car and talking about made up words. "Oh my god, Steve. Look."

And then-- And then. 

Steve didn't know how to explain it. One moment, he was looking at Dustin, the kid he'd become absurdly attached to over the past semester, and then something shifted. In the next breath, Dustin was... different. Light brown hair had sprouted all over his face, smooth and straight and so unlike the curly mop still on top of his head. His nose had changed, the bridge gone flatter and wider, the end still hairless but now a deep dark brown, like a dog's. Underneath his nose, his lip was cleft, opened wide so Steve could see even more clearly the gap where Dustin's teeth should be. On either side of the cleft, whiskers sprouted, white and long. 

His eyes were the same, though. Dustin's eyes, staring out of a beaver's face. 

Two years ago, Steve would have screamed. He would have thrown things. He would have been out of the car in two seconds flat. His flight reflex had been recently shattered, though, and now all he could do was stare and try not to choose the other option-- fight. 

This was Dustin, Steve told every dark instinct swelling up in the back of his mind. This was his best friend. Not something that crawled out of the Upside Down, not something stalking through the night. His kid. 

Dustin blinked at him, with a silly smile on his inhuman face. "See?" 

Steve's hands gripped the steering wheel, fingernails digging into the leather. "Dustin, what the fuck is happening right now?" 

The smile faded on Dustin's face slowly. "Do you not-- Steve, come on. You've seen El do this like a thousand times." 

"She's El!" Steve said, his voice going higher with stress. He could feel his muscles start to shake with the effort of keeping himself in place. "She's got, like, powers and shit! She was born in a lab and experimented on! You're-- You're just Dustin!" 

"Okay, ouch," Dustin said. A pout began to form on his face. "Okay, yeah, El is special, but there are people who like her who are, like, normal Wesen you know?" 

"You keep saying that word." 

"You know, like--" Dustin gestured between them with-- Jesus fucking Christ, with a fucking paw. "You and me." 

Steve had to get out of the car. His heart was going so fast he could feel it in his ear drums, in the roof of his mouth. It took too long for his shaking hands to open the door, and by the time his feet hit the dirt, he could feel adrenaline churning his stomach. Behind him, he could hear Dustin calling his name, the passenger door opening, but it only spurred on Steve's desire to get away. 

He stumbled a few feet, his legs too weak to carry him far, until hands grabbed at his jacket. Steve whirled around, ready to fight-- Your kid! A smaller part of his brain screamed at him. --but Dustin was... Human again. 

"What the fuck, Dustin," Steve couldn't stop repeating. "What the fuck." 

"Steve," Dustin said, deadly serious. "Are you seriously telling me you've never met another Wesen before?" 

"Stop saying that." 

"What?" 

"Stop saying that I'm one of you! I'm not. I don't-- I'm normal. Stop saying that." 

Dustin's eyes were too understanding. Steve fucking hated it when he did shit like this, when he could just look at Steve and got him, because Steve barely understood why he did what he did, sometimes. How did this fucking kid always seem to know him? And if he could, why didn't anyone else ever manage? 

"Steve," Dustin said again, pitched low and calm like he was trying to soothe a rabid dog. Like Steve was a monster, crawling the junkyard, looking for blood. "Look at your eyes right now."

There was a compulsion in Steve's blood that would not let him look away any longer. He had to look, had to face his own reflection already knowing it would ruin him. Steve raised his eyes to the car window, and its distorted mirror image of his face. 

For a moment, Steve almost had hope. His face was not marked or pitted like El's, nor was it covered in fur like Dustin's. It was his nose, his skin, his moles, his mouth. The scars that littered his face in the last two years were faint, but still visible. Steve could still feel one of them in the corner of his upper lip. It was almost easy to miss, almost easy to chalk it all up to a bad joke. But then Steve met his own gaze, and all illusion was shattered. 

It was like a trick of the light; They were the same size and shape as Steve's own, lined with the same delicate eyelashes, but there was no mistaking the change. His eyes were black. Not the deep void that stared out of El's other face, no. At first they seemed dead and glassy, like a shark's, but the longer he stared, the more Steve became aware of something moving inside them, like smoke behind glass. 

Steve didn't feel his knees grow weak or his legs buckle underneath him. He barely felt it when he landed on the ground. One moment he was standing, and the next he was on the asphalt, staring up at Dustin. Dustin, who looked down at him with such a mixture of confusion and sorrow that Steve felt, bizarrely, like his change was more inhuman than all the fur and torn flesh in the world. 

"What the fuck," Steve said, his voice croaking in his throat. "What's happening to me? Dustin, what the fuck is happening to me?" 

"I don't know," Dustin said, and-- Embarassingly, Steve let out a thin noise of panic, because he was absolutely fucked if Dustin was admitting he didn't know something. "I mean, I have a theory, but..." Dustin cut himself off and looked around the parking lot. They were alone here, had chosen it specifically so they could laugh and play Dustin's tapes as loud as they wanted to, but he still scanned the area with more suspicion than Steve had seen out of him in months. It made Steve's instincts kick in, had him scrambling to his feet to put himself in between whatever danger Dustin suspected of the world around them. "We really shouldn't do this here." 

"Is this..." Steve swallowed, his hands shaking. "Is this Upside Down shit? Is it because of the tunnels? Did I-- Did I breathe too many spores in or something?" 

Dustin considered the idea for only half a moment before dismissing it with a shake of his head. "No, if this was a symptom, Will would have displayed the same ones while he was in the hospital last year. No, this has to be... Come on, Steve, let's go home. I promise, I'll tell you everything I know. Just not where people can hear us." 

"This is fucking insane," Steve muttered to himself, but he climbed back in the car, hands shaking. 

The ride to Steve's house was tense, neither of them speaking, although Steve could sense Dustin throwing him concerned looks the entire way. He usually hated when the kid did that, mostly because he didn't need a thirteen year old's concern, thank you so much, Dustin, but today it rankled Steve's nerves worse than ever. Everything in his body wanted to fight something, but the only enemy he could identify was inside his own head. Dustin's gaze on him only made it worse, made Steve so jumpy he imagined, several times, jumping from the moving car. 

Whatever was wrong with him, it didn't stop at his eyes. 

Steve stormed down his driveway and threw open his front door. Dustin scurried in after him as if afraid to be left behind, and Steve had a brief pang of guilt, but then he caught sight of himself in the long mirror that hung along the foyer and-- He turned away, swallowing bile. "Alright, kitchen," he said. "I need a fucking beer." 

They sat on either side of his mother's breakfast nook, the only place Steve ever ate alone. Steve had a beer, one of the last few he'd been nursing since his party days ran out. Dustin had a root beer in front of him, untouched. They stared at each other, unsure. 

It was time to be a fucking adult, Steve decided, and unstuck his tongue from the roof of his dry mouth. 

"What was that word you kept using?" he asked. 

"Wesen," Dustin answered, his mouth a grim line. "That's what I am. That's what El is. Or was? It's not really clear." 

"But it's what she was supposed to be," Steve said, and when Dustin nodded, he sucked in a breath. "And what I am." 

Dustin squirmed on his stool. "I think so." 

"So... So what the fuck is it?" Steve shook his head, confused by the very words coming out of his mouth. "Am I going to start growing fur? Or-- Or get all wrinkly or whatever, like El when she uses her powers?" 

"No, it's not--" Dustin paused, his face creased with the uncomfortable feeling of having no idea how to explain something. "I only know what my mom has told me, which isn't, like, a lot. But we're not like humans." 

"Yeah," Steve scoffed. "I got that." 

"What I mean is, we're part of the same community but we're not all the same. We probably have some stuff in common, but I don't know how much. I can't exactly go to the library to figure this stuff out." Dustin's voice held the long-suffering frustration of a child who'd been asking the same questions for a very long time, with no adult willing to answer. Steve was usually all for it, being the first to encourage the kids to say fuck adults and do it themselves, but he was still lost in a sea of information that made no fucking sense to him. 

"Can we just-- Explain it to me like I'm really stupid." 

"I want you to know that I'm not making a joke right now because I can tell you're in a really vulnerable place." 

"Thank you so much, Dustin." 

"You remember Star Wars, right?" Dustin asked. 

Steve's head tilted. "The movie you made me watch over Christmas break? With the laser swords? Yeah, I remember them." 

"Alright, so, everyone in that movie is an alien, right? Some of them look like humans, but they're not from Earth. And some of them don't look like humans at all. They're all from separate planets, some of them entirely separate species, but they're all aliens." 

Steve blinked at Dustin for a long moment before his face collapsed into disbelief. "We are not fucking aliens." 

Dustin's glare was legendary. "No, you idiot. But we're not human, either." 

"Then what am I?" Steve raised a hand to stop the answer he could already see coming. "And don't say Wes… That word. I can't just be not human. People aren't… whatever they're not. I have to be something." 

"I don't know," Dustin said. "I don't know a lot of the names. My mom is kinda…" 

Steve nodded. Mrs. Henderson's brand of flighty overprotectiveness was well known to the entire group, and probably most of Hawkins by now. Dustin was allowed to spend whatever time he wanted with Steve, even staying over at his house when Steve's parents were out of town, but Steve had also been horrified to find that Mrs. Henderson had woefully unprepared the kid for things like puberty or high school. Dustin said his mom didn't like to talk about things that upset her, and Steve guessed that other Wesen was one of those subjects, much like Dustin growing up or rock music. 

Steve felt himself begin to calm. Whatever happened, it was bound to be easier than the time he had to explain to Dustin what a pube was. 

"Do you think she might know?" 

"Probably, but we can't ask her." Dustin was beginning to look actually distressed. "There's no way she would let us hang out again." 

Steve's stomach sank. "Really?"

"When she found out the founder of the D&D club at Hawkins High was a Blutbad, she made me promise I would never join," Dustin said. Brightening, he continued, "Oh, wait, duh! Your parents have to know; They must be Wesen, too! Just ask them." 

Bradley Harrington's eyes had never gone black, Steve was pretty sure, though they had definitely been angry enough a time or two. He couldn't imagine his mother, Sophia, as anything less than human, either. They were both so… normal, although sometimes so damn keen on being completely on-trend that Steve suffocated with it. Half of the trouble Steve had gotten himself into over the years was more about calling too much attention to himself than legitimately bad behavior. Steve was sure they would be just as annoyed by having a genius like Dustin as a son as they were having an idiot like him. 

He tried to imagine what his father would say if Steve called just to tell them his eyes had changed color, and winced. 

"If they wanted me to know, they would have told me," Steve said, grimly. 

"Well, fuck," Dustin said, which Steve thought pretty much summed it up, yeah. 

After a moment of stewing in his own misery, Steve remembered to ask, "So what are you, then?" 

Dustin's chest puffed up with pride, and a ripple of fur sped across his face. "I'm an Eisbiber!"

"That means absolutely nothing to me, you gotta know that." 

"We're like beaver people, basically. Mom says it's impolite to compare people to animals but–" Dustin shrugged. "I call it like I see it. I'm a beaver. Lots of Wesen have animal attributes." 

"What, like a werewolf or something?" Steve asked, incredulous. 

"Those are Blutbads," Dustin confirmed. His voice dropped to a whisper. "But Mom says if you call a Blutbad a werewolf to their face, they'll eat you." 

Suddenly, Steve could only think of demodogs, their faces peeled open and saliva shining in the moonlight. All those fucking teeth. 

He nodded slowly. "I'll… keep that in mind." Shifting in his chair, Steve thought about the tight, inner group of the Party, and the way he hadn't really been a part of it before last fall. Even within their small group, there had always been an air of mystery about El and her origins. Even Nancy hadn't had many ideas, when Steve had gotten the courage to approach her about everything post-breakup, but if Dustin had known the whole time... "So how many people know about this stuff, then? Are Lucas and Mike like you? Is that why everything happened with Will that first time?" 

"I don't think Wesen are that common," Dustin said, "though that might just be a Hawkins thing? Like I said, it's hard to do research. Lucas and Mike don't know. I'm not sure how much Will knows, honestly." 

"But they know about El," Steve said, frowning. 

Dustin paused, looking guilty. "I know. That's the problem. Mike treats El like a superhero, and I'm not... Eisbibers aren't like Hexenbiests, especially superpowered ones made in labs. We mostly make things. I don't want him to think I'm... I mean. You know. It's bad enough, already, with the human shit." 

"Look, Mike and I have never gotten along, but I don't think he would do that. Whatever Wheeler is, a bully isn't one of them." Steve knew what a bully looked like. Scrawny, angry twelve years olds didn't make the list.

"Alright, so you tell them you're a--" Dustin paused. "A whatever, then." 

"I will," Steve said, "the second we can figure out what the fuck it is I'm supposed to be. What about Hop? I mean, how much would El have told him?" 

"Nothing about you." Dustin shrugged. "El was raised in a lab by humans, presumably. She didn't even know what she was. My mom had to tell Hop everything, and then made him promise me and El would never be allowed to hang out alone." 

Steve thought of angry little El, eyes painted to match her second face, who wanted to be with her friends so badly that she ran away to find her past. "I bet that Kali girl could have helped us." 

"Good luck finding her. I'm pretty sure she was half Musai," Dustin said. Steve wished he'd just stop saying shit like Steve was supposed to understand it. Being stupid about human stuff may be embarrassing, but he refused to be bullied for not knowing the names of every single race of a species he'd just realized he was a part of. 

"This is insane," Steve said. He slumped in his chair, and looked around his kitchen. It looked just like he'd left it this morning, the kind of half-cluttered that houses inevitably got when they were lived in by people who desperately didn't want to be there. Filled up with the necessities of life but abandoned just as quickly. Clean dishes haphazardly placed around the room and junk mail months old still piled on the counter. His bread box was empty, half a loaf of bread still sitting in its wrapper on top. 

It should be different, he decided. Not just his kitchen, but his entire world. That's how things had been when he'd seen the demogorgon in the Byers' house-- He'd realized things about the world in that moment that had changed everything. It was fast and violent, and the next morning he had looked at himself in the mirror and not recognized the kid looking back at him. It was the same for everything he'd ever loved, even the people, and while Steve had spent a lot of time looking back, he'd always known there was no resetting time before that moment. 

He was starting to think he'd preferred the violent realization to this slow roll of information. Now Steve was left with the knowledge that the world had already been just as it was, and Steve had just been unable to see it. Right under his nose. His parents, his best friend, his fucking kitchen... the same as it had always been. He'd just been looking at it the wrong way. 

That was a much harder pill to swallow. The demogorgon hadn't left Steve with much choice-- swallow or choke. Get it over with. Fight until you win. But how the fuck was Steve supposed to fight this? He felt helpless in a way he didn't often let himself be, disconnected from his body and vulnerable in the haze of his own thoughts. Like his soul was hanging raw and open in the space around him, and this part of him that was a living, breathing thing was left with no one home. 

"We're gonna figure it out," Dustin said. Steve blinked slowly and pulled his gaze back to the kid who'd just blown his worldview to smithereens. Dustin's face was pulled tight with determination, leftover baby fat bunching adorably in his cheeks. He looked like an angry chipmunk, Steve thought hysterically, and then corrected himself: An angry beaver. 

God, what the fuck had happened to his life? 

"I'm serious, Steve," Dustin said, when it became clear that Steve wasn't going to react outside of a foggy gaze. "We're gonna figure this out, okay? Me and you." 

"Yeah?" Steve said, the edge of a laugh in his voice. "We're gonna, what, hunt down what I am, what my parents are, completely on our own? You literally just said this shit was impossible to research." 

"We don't need that shit," Dustin said, scoffing. "When have we ever needed evidence? Or, like, adults?" 

Steve really wanted to protest that; As the older party and a practical adult himself, it was probably his job to insist on both evidence and adults for pretty much everything Dustin wanted to do, whether or not it involved fictional creatures that Steve may or may not be. The problem was, though, Dustin wasn't exactly... wrong. Hop and Joyce were the only adults that had ever been any help to either of them, and that was on a good day. Half the time they kinda just got in the way. Steve was pretty sure that if cops and doctors just listened to Nancy as much as they listened to the adults, they could have figured out most of this shit back in junior year. 

"Fuck, okay," Steve said, pushing his hands through his hair. "Sure. Goddamn it." 

"You are literally never allowed to tell me off for cussing again," Dustin said. He sounded unimpressed. 

"Sorry, is my breakdown upsetting you?" Steve shot back, but he felt his muscles unclench enough that it no longer felt painful to breathe. Dustin's snark was honestly calming, though Steve would rather die than ever admit it. Still, it was a good reminder that no matter how scared Steve was, things hadn't gotten so bad that Dustin had lost his particular brand of sarcastic zen. As much as the little shit loved to dig into the most dangerous curiosities he could find, he wasn't exactly the sort to smile calmly into the face of death, so... So whatever Steve was, he could deal with it. 

Probably. 

"I'm going to go home," Dustin said, jumping out of his seat. Ignoring Steve's small sound of protest, he continued, "and you're going to take a shower and then a nap. Tomorrow, once you've calmed down, we can do some tests." 

"Tests?" Steve repeated, his nose wrinkling. El had never really divulged what had gone on in the lab with him, but he knew just enough for his imagination to take over. He knew Dustin wasn't exactly the government experiment type, but he still hated the concept being applied to him. "See, this is exactly the kind of shit I didn't want to happen." 

"Tough shit," Dustin said, stomping his way out of the kitchen. Rolling his eyes, Steve followed. 

"Do you want a ride?" he asked, because he always did and, well... Whatever Dustin thought, Steve didn't exactly want to be alone right now. Also, he just found out there was a whole new kind of monster in this town, and every protective instinct in his body wasn't exactly jazzed about Dustin riding all the way home on his bike. "What about the B-- the Bad werewolves or whatever, you were talking about? You said one lived in Hawkins--" 

"Blutbad," Dustin corrected as he wedged his feet back into the shoes he'd previously abandoned next to Steve's front door. "And I think I'll be okay. I've existed in the same town as them for thirteen years and I haven't gotten eaten even once." 

"Not for lack of trying," Steve muttered under his breath, and then helped Dustin put his backpack on. Dustin let him, not complaining about being able to do it himself for once, and not for the first time Steve felt a small rush of affection for the kid. He knew not a lot of people understood why he and Dustin spent so much time together. Sure, sometimes the other kids were involved, Max and Lucas especially, but usually it was just Steve and Dustin. The other kids didn't really get it, and no matter what Dustin said, Steve wasn't sure they saw him as more than Dustin's big brother. As for Steve's old friends, well, Nancy had long stopped being impressed by Steve's ability to keep a kid alive for more than forty five minutes; She probably just thought it was pathetic now. Tommy sure gave him enough shit for it when Steve bothered to give him the time of day. God knew what Jonathan thought, outside of the stern nods they traded when Steve picked Will up for an arcade trip. 

They just didn't understand the warmth in Steve's chest when Dustin let him help with something stupid and small. It didn't matter if Dustin could do it on his own. That had never been the point. Helping the kid put on backpacks and jackets, fixing his hair, making sure his grilled cheeses were evenly toasted on both sides so the texture didn't turn his stomach-- No matter how much Steve bitched, he loved doing every little thing no one had ever done for him. 

"Listen, Steve," Dustin said, standing nervously in his doorway. "I want you to know that it doesn't matter." 

Steve dragged himself out of his sentimental reverie. "What?"

Dustin squirmed, face pinched with thought. "What kind of Wesen you are, it doesn't matter. I'm gonna help you because you want to know, and that's-- That's cool. You've got a right to know, just like El. But knowing didn't change El, and it's not going to change you. You'll still be Steve, and Steve's pretty great." 

Blinking, Steve couldn't respond for a moment. Finally, he managed to say, "Are you trying to pep talk me right now, Henderson?" 

Embarrassment flooded Dustin's face, creasing his brown and throwing blush across his cheeks. "Okay, fuck you, see you in the morning, douchebag." 

Laughing, Steve followed Dustin out the door and onto his front steps. "Hey, Dustin?" he called as he watched Dustin clamber onto his bicycle. Dustin looked up, eyes squinted in suspicion. "Thanks, man," Steve said, a blush rising in his own face. 

Dustin grinned. "Welcome to the club, asshole," he said, and then sped out of the Harringtons' driveway as fast as his little Gumby legs could carry him. God, Steve loved that kid.

Dustin kept his promise. He was there the next morning, before Steve's neighbors had even left for church, with a list of potential 'tests' to try out. None of them were the weird science experiments that Steve had been dreading. Most of them, in fact, were just Steve trying to flex muscles he shouldn't have. 

"Acid spit?" Steve read, incredulous. 

"That one's a far reach," Dustin admitted. Shifting through his backpack, Dustin pulled out item after item, and Steve lowered the list to look doubtfully at the large slingshot that now sat on his kitchen table. "But I didn't want to leave anything out." It wasn't a long list, Steve noted, and most of it was ridiculous. No matter what Dustin said, he was pretty sure he'd have noticed something like kisses that drugged people or the ability to lead rats around. 

Probably. 

"Fine," Steve said, giving up. "But we're not doing this shit outside where the neighbors can see. The last thing I need is another rumor going around about King Steve." 

"It's your house," Dustin said, shrugging, and threw the water balloon launcher over his shoulder.

To Steve's complete and utter lack of surprise, he did not have acid spit or any other set of superpowers. At Dustin's insistence, Steve ran across his backyard a few times, picked up some heavy things, caught a few launched tennis balls-- 

"I'm not playing anymore fetch," Steve decided, dropping the last of the tennis balls at Dustin's feet. 

Dustin glared up at him with all the tiny rage of a scientist disrespected in his field. At least, Steve imagined. He hadn't known too many non-evil scientists in his life. "I'm trying to determine if you have super strength or improved reflexes." 

"Oh, good," Steve said, and then flopped into his usual lawn chair. "I don't." 

"You picked up a grill," Dustin protested, but even he didn't sound convinced. 

"I was on three different sports teams for all four years of high school," Steve said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Dustin was only trying to help, and Steve knew he should be grateful. But once the panic had faded, all Steve was left with was this... irritation. Wasn't it enough that everything he'd ever known about his life had turned out to be a lie? One more lie on top of everything else turned out to be just one more pea under the princess' mattresses, and Steve was sick to death of vegetables in his bedding. "And I've been prepping to murder interdimensional monsters for the last two of 'em. Of fucking course I run fast and pick up heavy shit. It's, like, literally all I'm good at." 

"I give up," Dustin said, throwing his arms up. Paper floated down around them, escaping from Dustin's clipboard. "You're the most useless Wesen in the world! If I hadn't seen you woge myself, I'd think you were an Eisbiber!" 

"Jesus Christ, kid," Steve said, "Cool it on the beaver hate. Your mom's pretty cool." 

Dustin's glare was intense enough that even Steve knew it was time to shut up. They sat in silence for a moment, Steve placidly watching as Dustin squinted into the reflective light of the pool. Steve had no idea what Dustin was thinking, and didn't have enough context to guess. At this point, Steve was ready to chalk the whole thing up to a trick of the light and move on with his life. Eventually, though, Dustin shook himself out of it and sat on the other end of the lounger, close enough their knees bumped together. 

"Woge for me," Dustin demanded. Steve had learned enough that wogeing meant the change, the other 'face' that El and Dustin possessed. Dustin had talked about it at length that morning, talking about the difference reasons for it and how it might point to the truth of Steve's identity. None of the tests had worked, though, and Steve's eyes had stayed human. 

"I don't think it's the same thing for me, man," Steve said. When he saw Dustin about to protest, he rushed to continue. The last thing he needed was another Henderson rant about the scientific method or some other bullshit Steve wouldn't bother to remember. "I tried for hours to make it happen last night, just so I could make sure that it had actually happened. Besides, it's only my eyes-- And your thing is literally everything but your eyes. Those stay human."

"But El's don't." 

"El also looks like a literal diseased corpse when she changes," Steve said, tired. "Like we've said a million times, it's stupid to compare either of us to the girl literally created and then raised in a lab." 

Even Dustin couldn't argue with that logic, but it didn't phase him for long. "Fine, then we just need to replicate the last time you woged, so I can take notes of all the characteristics I may have missed the last time," he said, slipping back into the overly professional voice that Steve was almost certain he'd stolen from one of his doctors. 

Resisting the urge to groan, Steve frowned. "So, what, we have to go get in the car?" 

"Maybe, if it doesn't work here, but I don't think the place is really the important variable here," Dustin said, and Steve supposed it was a sign of how seriously Dustin was taking this if he didn't even pause to ruthlessly bully Steve for getting it wrong. "How did you feel the last time your eyes changed? What caused the feelings?" 

"Dustin, you were literally there," Steve sighed, but Dustin was already speaking over him before he could finish the sentence. 

"Yeah, but I'm not you! I don't know what instincts were happening in that big head of yours!" 

"I don't know, I was... upset?" Steve asked, and when Dustin rolled his eyes, he kicked at the kid's legs. "Hey! You're the one sounding like a fucking Hollywood therapist! What am I supposed to say? I just watched my best friend turn into a fucking beaver!" 

Dustin's eyes narrowed. "You think my woge triggered yours?" 

"I don't... know?" Steve leaned back in the chair, brow creasing as he tried to remember what had been going through his head before the panic of not recognizing his own reflection. The primal fear hung over every second of the memory now, but he knew that wasn't true. There had been adrenaline, yes, but Steve hadn't been scared of Dustin. His instincts had been more violent, almost angry. That had been what scared him, in the beginning. It hadn't been Dustin that sent him scrambling out of the car, but his own impulses. "When you changed, it made me... I thought I had to fight you." 

Dustin hummed under his breath. "Once, when we were in the city, Mom and I ran into this lizard guy in the hospital. He turned out to be really nice, but when Mom first saw him, she woged out of fear and he woged back-- I think it was probably some kind of predator-prey instinct. Maybe it's like that?" 

Steve felt a pit grow in his stomach. He didn't like the sound of that. "So, I'm like... A hunter?" 

"Unless you think you're the only natural prey of the North American beaver, yeah," Dustin said. 

Great, Steve thought, what a way to have every fucking bad thing anyone had ever thought about him confirmed in one fell swoop. Crossing his arms across his chest, he tried not to settle into a sulk. Pouting in front of the kid you were supposed to be a good influence for was embarrassing as hell, and probably even worse than being an instinct-driven murder machine. "Does that at least narrow it down?" 

Dustin made an unsure noise in the back of his throat, kicking his feet back and forth as he thought. "I mean, kinda. It means you're definitely not anything my mother will let me within five feet of, but we pretty much already knew that. The problem is that, as far as I know, most of the Wesen world is pretty dangerous. Even some of the prey animals are killers." 

"According to your mom," Steve said. He loved Claudia Henderson, he really did, but she thought her neighbor's Yorkie was two seconds from killing them all on a good day.

"According to my mom," Dustin agreed. "Look, let's just woge right now, and it'll confirm it." 

"You don't think that triggering my 'predator instincts' on purpose will be a bad idea?" Steve asked, shrinking in on himself. If he hurt Dustin over some stupid science experiment, he'd have to go ahead and drown himself in the pool. And he genuinely didn't think Dustin could take the extra trauma on top of everything else. 

"You'll be ready for it this time," Dustin said, and twisted around so they were face to face. 

'Ready' turned out to be mostly erroneous. There was no countdown, no time to prepare-- Their eyes met and then Dustin was changing. The fur, the nose, the cleft lip. It was all as Steve remembered it, all exactly as he'd played over and over again in his mind. Steve braced himself, waiting for the same rush of adrenaline, for the same muscle-clenching urge to fight. 

It never came. 

One moment passed, then another. Steve forced himself to breathe. "I'm not feeling any rodent murdering tendencies," he admitted, although he couldn't quite convince his shoulders to relax.

"Well," Dustin said, his tiny beaver face peering into Steve's. "Your eyes definitely changed. They're... Huh." 

"What?" Steve wanted to squirm under Dustin's gaze, uncomfortable with the very intense eye contact going on right now. Even though Dustin was looking at him, in his eyes, Steve didn't feel like he was being included in the interaction. If anything, it felt more like Dustin was watching something through him, and after all the multidimensional shit they'd been through, the last thing Steve wanted to think about was his eyes being a portal. "Come on, man, you're freaking me out." 

"They're reflective," Dustin said, his voice faraway with thought. 

"Yeah?" Steve said, confused. "So are everybody's."

"No, they're like mirrors. I can see myself completely. Every detail." Dustin's voice still sounded lost, and Steve swallowed down the sudden lump in his throat. 

"That's weird," he said, eventually, when Dustin had proven that he had forgotten to even blink. "Um, can this part be over now? I'm not great at eye contact on a good day." 

After a moment, Dustin shook himself, looking just as confused as Steve felt. "Yeah, sorry, man," he said, frowning down at his notepad. "I don't know what happened. Maybe your species is good at hypnosis? Some kind of snake, maybe?" 

"Do I look like a fucking snake to you, Dustin?" Steve said, gesturing to his smooth skin and fluffy hair. 

"No," Dustin admitted, "but we don't really have any proof your species has an animal counterpart, either. El doesn't. And before you say it--" Steve closed his mouth. "-- I'm not comparing you to El. I'm saying that whatever a Hexenbiest is supposed to be, I don't think it was originally like me. Maybe they're not the only ones." 

Honestly, Steve hated the idea of his powers being anything like El's. To put it mildly, El's powers were fucking terrifying. Not the girl herself; It had been impossible to be afraid of El after Steve had gotten to know the sweet little girl that hid behind all that trauma. He adored her, really. But her powers? Steve genuinely didn't know how El slept at night, because if it were him with all that responsibility, he'd probably just have a heart attack. The more power someone had, the more opportunities they had to fuck up. Steve was proof of that. Having as much power as El was his worst nightmare. And if Dustin was right, that Steve might be something like her... 

"We should tell Hop about this," Steve decided. Immediately, Dustin groaned. 

"Come on, Steve! Hopper isn't going to let us dig into this and you know it!" 

"Yeah, and maybe we shouldn't," Steve said. "I don't know anything about this shit, and my parents aren't talking. But if you're right, and I have the ability to hurt someone, then Hop needs to know about it." 

Dustin's face softened. "You-- It's not like that, Steve. You wouldn't--" 

"You don't know that." Steve was on his feet again, pacing the concrete that surrounded his pool. "We don't know anything, and you've seen what happens when El gets angry. And what happened to Will last year?" 

"That wasn't Wesen related," Dustin tried to reason, but Steve was already shaking his head. 

"That we know of," Steve said, "and I think we've proven that neither of us actually know a goddamn thing about this."

"... Fine. But I want it on the record that I think this is stupid, and you would never hurt anybody, Wesen or not." 

Steve rolled his eyes. "Your complaint has been recorded, and will be going directly into the trash. Do you have your walkie on you?" 

They went inside to collect Dustin's abandoned bag, his walkie still packed safely inside. They had given Hopper a Party-approved walkie the year before, when he decided that in case of emergency, relying on phones wasn't enough. Steve was pretty sure he'd given up on the Upside Down being a one-time thing, and making sure the kids weren't being eaten by monsters in the woods made everyone sleep better at night. They had a separate channel, though, for adult-included emergencies, because Hopper had threatened to arrest Mike for calling in a Code Orange over being out of toilet paper. 

Steve hesitated over the dial, for a moment, and wondered if discovering you weren't human was a Code Yellow or Orange. 

"It's not going to call itself," Dustin said, and Steve-- 

His eyes shut, all usual irritation at Dustin's annoyances drowned out by fear. Because he was so fucking afraid. Afraid of himself, yeah, but also a million other things. Like, how was he supposed to look Hopper in the eyes and admit what he was? Sure, Hop was okay with El, but El was a kid. His kid. Steve wasn't sure if he'd have taken the beaver thing half as well from anyone but Dustin. Wasn't sure he would now, even, and he was fucking one of them. Would Hop think he was a monster? 

Even worse, would Hop believe him when Steve said he was something to be feared? Steve wasn't sure if he hoped Hop would, or if he dreaded it. 

"Can you wait outside?" Steve asked, his voice shaking. He could already see Dustin gearing up for an epic bitch fit, so he quickly continued, "Just for a second. I swear, you can come with me. I can't do this shit without you, man." 

The admission made Dustin quiet. With shock or with mollification, Steve didn't know, but whatever it inspired in Dustin was enough to have him nodding and walking out the door. 

Steve turned the walkie to Hop's channel, and held the button down. "Chief, are you there?" 

There was a moment of quiet, and Steve thought- hoped? -that Hopper didn't hear him, that he might be busy or at work or maybe he'd thrown the stupid thing in a drawer somewhere, but eventually the speaker crackled to life. The chief's voice poured out, "That you, Harrington?" 

"Yeah," Steve said, the vowels coming out reedy in the tightness of his throat. "Yeah, it's me. Um... I got a... A Code Orange? Or maybe a Yellow." 

"I can never remember that stupid fucking system," Hopper said, and on any other day, Steve would have laughed. "You okay, kid?" 

Kid, Steve thought, his brain buzzing, when was the last time he'd been a kid? 

"No," Steve said, answering the question truthfully for the first time in years. "No, I'm not." 

There was a moment of static, and then, "You need me there?" 

Steve wanted to say yes. Steve wanted to sit on the floor and wait for an adult to come by and take care of it. Steve wanted a dad who would come home and make everything go away. But that wasn't the truth, and it would scare Dustin, so Steve took a deep breath and acted like a fucking grown up for once. "I was thinking that Dustin and I could come by the cabin tonight, actually. There's something there I think we might need." 

Hopper made a small, considering noise. "This about all that nastiness this fall?" 

"Dustin doesn't think so," Steve said, glad to be able to report some good news for once. "It's more… personal. But, you know, you have a lot in the cabin that might have answers, so…" 

There was a moment of dead air, and Steve wondered if Hop was weighing his affection for El against his need to protect Steve. Hopper was obviously more of a protective dad than Steve's dad had ever been, putting even Claudia Henderson to shame with his hovering abilities, and Steve… didn't begrudge El that. Really, he didn't. But there was a lump in his throat when he thought about Hopper leaving him to deal with this on his own. And he would, if it meant keeping his daughter out of trouble. Steve knew that without a moment's thought. 

He wondered what it said about him that the knowledge made his chest ache. Nothing good, probably. 

"Come on down," he said eventually, and something in Steve's chest unclenched. "You'll both stay for dinner." 

"Sounds good," Steve said, although they both knew it hadn't been a question. "We should be there in about ten minutes." 

"Yeah, I know where you live, boy," Hopper said with a snort, and then the line went quiet. 

Despite himself, Steve smiled down at the walkie as he threw it haphazardly back into Dustin's bag. No matter what changed, at least Hop would always be the same. He was the same as a father figure as he was when he had been a stranger breaking up all Steve's best parties. It was a small comfort, to see someone strong enough to not let all the craziness of their lives change him– A comfort that Steve let wash over him in the silence of his kitchen, breathing deep. 

Okay, game face on, he told himself. Keeping how badly this affected him from Dustin was hard enough, and he knew it would be near impossible in the face of El's observant gaze. He wasn't entirely sure how this would affect her, but keeping as calm as possible would stop her from freaking out, and that was always good for Steve's health. 

He loved the kid but, Jesus, she was scary sometimes. 

"So what's the game plan?" Dustin asked as they both climbed into the Beemer. "I mean, what are we going to tell him?"

"Stop trying to game the Chief," Steve said, with the air of an older troublemaker who had long since learned better. "It literally never works." 

"So, what, we just go in there and tell the truth?" Dustin said. He sounded uncomfortable at the idea, which Steve kind of understood. He'd been the same at Dustin's age, always lying and keeping problems to himself for genuinely no good reason. He was still working hard to break the habit, obviously. He didn't know why he did it, though, and Dustin probably wasn't even aware of it yet– It was just a knee-jerk reaction, something Steve had learned after years of proof that telling the truth rarely got you anything but grounded. 

"If we want Hop to help, he's gotta know what's going on," Steve said, with more confidence than he felt. Dustin argued for the entire drive, less because he disagreed, Steve was pretty sure, and more because it was easier than dwelling on the mystery. Sometimes your brain needed a break from the panic spiral of the unknown, and bugging the shit out of your best friend was the perfect solution, apparently. 

Steve sighed in relief when he rounded the last corner and the cabin slid into view. 

Hidden away in the depths of the same woods that abutted Steve's yard, Hopper's cabin was small and plain, unnoticeable from the main roads that cut through the town mere feet away. Steve wasn't sure how many people knew about the place, but those in the know rarely came by except by appointment. Even Joyce knew better than to roll up to Hopper's unannounced. If anything, such a bold move would be a sign that something had gone truly, terribly wrong. 

There was always a bit of nerves just before Steve knocked on the cabin door. Every time, something in him was convinced he would be turned away. The confirmation beforehand didn't help the anxiety, and Steve was never sure why– Maybe it was the feeling of constantly intruding on El and Hopper's new family, or maybe it was just the fact that they both could kick Steve's ass, but the initial frisson of nerves never faded even after Steve had grown comfortable in their presence. 

Hopper opened the door before he could knock, leaving Steve's hand hanging awkwardly in the air. 

"This doesn't look like an emergency," Hopper said, voice gruff– But his gaze swept carefully over the both of them. 

Steve opened his mouth to explain, or at least offer some kind of vague reassurance that would get them in the door, but Dustin beat him to the punch, as usual. "It's not really a human-type emergency." 

Hopper's eyes snapped to Steve, surprise and suspicion mixing together in equal measure. "You said this wasn't about the lab." 

Steve swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry under Hopper's gaze. 

"Most Wesen aren't man-made," Dustin said, suddenly huffy with offense. Steve would probably be offended, too, if he'd had a lifetime to adjust to not being human. Seemed kind of rude to start assuming people were created in a lab. "Look, can we come in? If I have to re-explain my entire society to you, I at least want to do it sitting down." 

To Steve's surprise, Hopper smiled down at Dustin and took a step back, shrugging. It wasn't exactly a grin, but it was there plain as day, small and fond. "Sure, come on in. El," Hopper said, raising his voice to shout across the cabin to his daughter. "Company's here!" 

El's door swung open on cue, all the proof Steve needed that she'd known they were coming the whole time. The girl all but sprinted into the main room, nearly tackling Dustin in a hug. They looked almost like siblings, all brown curls and wide smiles, and El's delight at seeing Dustin was effusive. Despite the stress of the last two days, Steve found himself sharing Hopper's smile. 

The kids chattered to each other, voices soft with delight, and Hopper made eye contact over their heads. "You hanging in there, Harrington?" It was the kindest way to say that he'd heard the panic in Steve's voice earlier, and embarrassment flooded through his veins. Steve appreciated the concern. Really, he did. But suddenly the shame of his own need to be cared for was overwhelming, and Steve had to fight the urge to back out of the house with a mumbled excuse. 

He couldn't figure this out on his own. This wasn't going away. 

Luckily, Hopper's voice had reminded El of their second guest, and she saved Steve from having to reply by pulling away from Dustin. "Steve!" she cooed, her voice still pure childhood. 

She went in for a hug, her face tilting up to beam at him, and– As their eyes met, El's face shifted. The rapidly familiar ripple of a woge, leaving behind the twisted, pitted skin of her second face. 

The black of her eyes burned like coals, and the intensity of them sung in Steve's veins as adrenaline shot through his blood. His hand, which had raised to pull El into a hug, shot towards Dustin, instead– 

Every cell in his body thrummed with instinct. He needed to get the kid out of here, away from the danger. He needed to put himself in between, needed to fight.

Before his hand could even land on Dustin's back, his feet were off the floor. 

Steve hit the cabin wall, the entire room rattling with the weight of El's power. He could hear Hopper and Dustin's voices, surprised and panicked, but their voices were lost in the ringing in his ears. He struggled in vain against El's invisible hold, rage mounting with every futile second. 

The part of him that still held on to rationality, the part that made him Steve, struggled to calm his pounding heart. He knew El wouldn't hurt Dustin, knew El wasn't the threat his body said she was, but it took everything he had just to bite down on the feral scream building in his throat. 

The strings of El's power were cut just as quickly as they were woven, and Steve slumped to the floor. There were hands on him, but he recognized them as Dustin's, and he let them hold him down. 

"I'm… I'm sorry," El said, her voice small. Steve wanted to cry at the fear there, even as the furious parts of him settled in smugness. 

He didn't look at her. He couldn't. Instead, Steve looked up at Hopper, pleading. 

"Something's wrong with me," Steve said, voice shaking. "You have to help." 

Hopper's face was grim, his mouth a flat line as he looked down at them. "You feel the Mindflayer on him?" he asked El, his eyes never leaving Steve. 

El was quick to shake her head. "No, it's not like Will. It was… I think it was me." 

"I already told you, it's not an Upside-Down thing! He's just a Wesen," Dustin said. His hands were shaking where he had them fisted in Steve's t-shirt. Steve leaned into them, feeling them steady against his ribs. 

"Like us?" Some of the unease faded from El, excitement in her eyes. 

"Not exactly," Steve said, still looking up at Hopper with guilty eyes. 

Dustin turned to El, his eyes sparkling with the excitement of having someone who would entertain his nonsense for once. "You noticed his eyes, right? That's the only aspect of his woge. I've never seen anything like it, have you?" 

El shook her head. "I've had woges forced before, but I–" 

"Forced?" Hopper repeated, and Steve slumped further into himself. 

"Steve didn't, though," El said, and her eyes drifted back to Steve. He didn't like the way her eyes went unfocused when he looked back, the same way Dustin had drifted into a haze earlier that day. "I was… afraid." 

"A prey response," Steve said, glumly repeating what Dustin had theorized before. 

"Not of you," El said gently, to Steve's surprise. "When your eyes went black, I could see myself in them. Not my body, but my…" Her face twisted in thought. "My self." 

"I did, too," Dustin said, frowning. "And Steve said he had the same initial adrenaline response, but I didn't–" 

"I didn't like what I saw," El said, her words clipped in the harsh, stilted way it had been when she was younger. 

All four of them sat in the silence that followed for a moment. Steve wondered if they were also trying to ignore what Steve was: The things El had done that Dustin hadn't, the things she'd had no choice but to become. He wasn't sure what El had seen staring back at her, but Steve couldn't imagine having to actually face the worst of himself. And how did his pathetic little life even compare to the things El had survived? 

Eventually, Hopper broke the silence. "I didn't see anything." The skepticism in his voice was palpable, but there was relief there, too. 

"Humans wouldn't," Steve said, a terrible realization creeping up his spine. "We were wrong, Dustin. It's not a predator thing. I think it's…" He huffed, trying to think of some kind of comparison. "It's like those butterflies that make themselves look like owls. They're trying to fend other Wesen off. Whatever I am, it's afraid of being hunted." 

"Alright, alright. This is–" Hopper rubbed a hand over his face, looking five years older than he had when Steve and Dustin had knocked on his door. "Start from the beginning. What exactly are we dealing with here?" 

Dustin and Steve shared a look. 

'You're the smart one,' Steve said with a shrug. 

'You're the one with the freaky eyes,' Dustin said with an arched brow. 

"Alright, so… It started after I picked Dustin up from school yesterday," Steve began. He ran them both through everything, even the parts that made him cringe. The first intense need to fight or escape in the face of Dustin's woge, the changes in his own reflection he couldn't replicate. 

El listened politely, sending Steve small smiles when she noticed him looking her way. Her obvious happiness when he or Dustin included her in their discussion of Wesen almost made Steve feel guilty for hating this. He knew isolation, both real and metaphorical, was the hardest part of El's slow integration into society, and having more Wesen around was probably a dream come true, but– Steve wasn't that guy. He didn't know a damn thing about being Wesen. He was just… human with a condition. 

Besides, whatever levity El brought to the situation, Hopper was apparently determined to stomp out. His face was that of a man facing down a firing squad, one who was fucking pissed about it, besides. When Dustin mentioned Steve's parents, he practically went apoplectic, turning away as his face went redder and redder. 

Whatever the fuck that was about. 

"So we decided we should come to you," Steve said, gesturing, "because you would know what to do about… me." 

Hopper's face didn't get any less angry. El, who had apparently just noticed her father's countenance, looked between them with wide eyes. 

"What to do about you," Hopper repeated, voice flat. 

"Yeah," Steve said, nodding. "Like you did with Will." 

El and Dustin both flinched, but Hopper was made of stone. Nothing but long, uncomfortable eye contact from him. "I don't think there's anything to be done here, kid," Hopper said. 

Steve couldn't suppress the full-body reaction to that, scrambling to his feet. Adrenaline was hitting him again, sending his already exhausted heart into paroxysms, but now it was true fear. Not of some imagined enemy, but of himself. "I can't just be around people like this, Hop," he said through gritted teeth. 

"You're around people now." 

"That's my fucking point! I have like four fucking friends in the entire world, and two of them turned out to be the exact kind of people that I'm a danger to. The only reason El isn't hurt is because she can kick my ass," Steve pushed a hand through his hair, feeling it stick up at the ends from leftover hairspray. He didn't care. He wanted to pull it out by the fucking roots. "What if I go to the grocery store and meet a Wesen in the fucking dairy aisle, Hop? What about the next time I see Mrs. Henderson?" 

"You didn't want to hurt El," Hopper said, his voice calm but his face still marred by anger. "You were reaching for Dustin. You wanted to protect him." 

"You can't know that for sure. I can't– I can't control myself when I'm like that," Steve said. "It took literally everything I had not to hurt my own fucking kid." 

"Me?" Dustin squeaked.

"You can. I know what someone out of control looks like, Harrington. You aren't it." 

"Why can't you just fucking help me?" Steve said, his voice going reedy with desperation. 

Hopper sneered. "I'm not going to help you punish yourself for something you haven't even done yet." 

"I think maybe we should go outside," El said, and Dustin nodded eagerly. They both scurried outside like they were being chased. 

"Stay where I can see you!" Hopper bellowed after them. Steve blinked back tears, shaking in the silence the kids left behind. Hopper took a deep breath. "Look, kid…" 

"I don't get why you won't help," Steve said, his eyes falling to the floor. "It's not punishment when it's El. Why can't you–" 

"El could control herself," Hopper said. "She just didn't know that she needed to. She's still learning how to be a person, Steve. She's just a kid." 

"Right, right. Sorry," Steve rubbed at his nose, willing his tears away. "I'm sorry I bothered you, I–" 

"That's not…" Hopper sighed, grabbing one of Steve's shoulders in one big hand. "What I'm saying is that you're already a good kid. I don't have to worry about you getting yourself or somebody else hurt." 

"I get myself and other people hurt literally all the time."

Hopper rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean. You're not going to hurt the kids, and I don't believe you're going to start attacking randoms in the street. You're still you." 

"But…" Steve swallowed around a dry throat. He didn't know how to make Hopper understand, didn't know how to make him care. He'd never been very good at that. Half of his life, Steve had been begging people to care. None of it had ever worked. "Alright. I get it." 

Hopper nodded, looking relieved. "Just go home, Harrington. Lay low for a little while. Get used to the new instincts." Steve still wanted to protest, but he agreed. "Good. Let's get outside, before those kids start some trouble." 

Steve followed Hopper out the cabin door, head held low. Dustin and El were waiting for them on the porch, sitting on the edge with their knees pulled up to his chest. They weren't talking, just watching the door with their bright, expectant faces. 

"It'll be fine," Hopper told them, voice calmer than it had been inside. The kids deserved that, Steve told himself. "Steve's got this." 

"Yup," Steve said, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. "It's all under control." 

El darted forward, throwing her arms around Steve's chest and clinging. Steve tried not to meet anyone's eyes over her head and hugged her back just as hard. 

"I'm sorry I scared you," he whispered, heart twinging in his chest. Not much scared El, and now he was on the list. What did that say about him? 

Squeezing even harder, El shook her head, rubbing her face against his chest. "Don't be sorry. It's not your fault," she said. It sounded like she was mimicking someone, and Steve wondered if Hopper had done that for her. If she'd been held close and told everything would be okay. 

Swallowing around his jealousy, Steve held on until El stepped back and smiled up at him. "You'll have to give me some tips on how to do this Wesen thing," Steve said. "Dustin's terrible at it." 

She smiled up at him. "We'll learn together." 

Dinner was a simple affair. Hopper hadn't let Steve help at all, so he had sat on the couch and watched Dustin and El play card games until spaghetti was on the table. The kids were loud and chaotic, thrilled to be around each other again, and it didn't matter that Steve only talked when someone asked him a question. Somehow, he made it through the meal, even when every bite churned in his stomach. 

Even when Dustin kept sending him little looks of concern, always too perceptive for his own good. 

They said their goodbyes quickly, even when El begged them to stay. Hopper, laughing, had told her they couldn't stay forever, and waved them out of the cabin and into the car. 

When Steve pulled into the Henderson's driveway, Dustin hesitated before opening the door. 

"So, I've been thinking," Dustin said, "and I don't think I should go to Camp Know-Where this year." 

Immediately, Steve knew he had fucked up. Dustin had talked about little else since the spring semester had started. No matter what problem he'd had, whether it was bullies or how boring his classes were, Dustin had changed the subject to how good this summer was going to be. And Steve got it. Really, he did. If he'd grown up in a town where no one cared about sports and bullied him for liking basketball, he'd be fucking stoked to spend some time with people who understood him, too.

But now Steve had ruined that for him, too. 

"Absolutely not." 

"I can't just…" Dustin looked distressed, and Steve was all the more determined to send the little shit to camp himself. "What if something happens while you're away?" 

"What's gonna happen?" Steve said, even as his brain played a horror film of all the things he could do without Dustin as a buffer for the rest of the world. He tried to borrow a little of Hopper's confidence. "I just have to get a handle on my instincts, that's all." 

"I don't think sitting in your house alone all summer–" Dustin started, but Steve cut him off, slicing his hand through the air. 

"You're going to your shitty little nerd camp, Dustin, and that is final." Before Dustin could protest again, Steve continued, "I have to get a job this summer anyway, remember? Official Bradley Harrington decree. Even if you stayed home, we wouldn't be able to hang out all day. You can't, like, come to work with me." 

Dustin didn't look convinced. "What if something happens?" 

Honestly, Steve didn't know, either. "You know, I'll call…" Who? The last thing Steve wanted was to disappoint Hopper, so he and El were out. The kids were too young to help with this shit, anyway, and Steve didn't really know many other people. That only left… "I'll call Jonathan or Nancy, okay?" 

"You're really gonna call your ex-girlfriend and tell her you went insane and beat the shit out of somebody?" 

Steve sighed. "If I say yes, will you go to camp?" 

Dustin nodded. "Honestly, I kind of hope you fuck up, now." 

Closing his eyes, Steve responded: "Get the fuck out of my car, Henderson." 

The rest of the spring went smoothly. Steve kept to himself at school; He had already descended into minor loserdom after everything with Billy, so it was a piece of cake to stop making eye contact with anyone he wasn't completely sure was human. Graduation came and went with little fanfare. He skipped the ceremony, and made up some shitty excuse about a vacation with his parents. 

He and the kids ate pizza and watched movies all night. Steve pretended not to see the pity in Nancy's eyes when she picked up Mike and Will the next morning. He waved politely at Jonathan and closed the door.

A few weeks later, Dustin left for camp. 

He started work that same week, and Steve was grateful for the distraction. Orientation was a quick affair, the manager running him through health and safety protocol and quizzing him on customer service. Steve wore his best mask the whole time, smiling at all the right times, frowning thoughtfully when he was supposed to. 

"Let me introduce you to your coworker," the manager said, and led Steve into the back room. A girl sat at the table there. She was wearing the same awful uniform that Steve currently held in his hands, but Steve could still see the nerdom radiating off her. Something about the hair and the tacky thrift-store jewelry. This wasn't one of 'his' crowd, and Steve breathed a little easier for it. "Steve, this is Robin Buckley. Rob–" 

"I know who he is," Robin said, and raised her head. 

The woge rippled across her face, revealing fur and piercing golden eyes.

[Next Chapter]

#my fic #monster hunting and werewolves and such #but it's slow burn #steddie #steve harrington #super steve centric #also autistic steve imo #uh yeah das it #only I must wander

[writingforstraykids]

Addicted to you Chp.20

Pairing: Minchan (mention of OT8)

Word Count: 5443

Summary: Back in public Minho tries to build up the courage to open up about what really happened without revealing too much. His friends support him every step of the way, hearing some things for the first time as well. Chan has to decide how open he really wants to be and walks the fine line of supporting his boyfriend and keeping their relationship a secret. Especially after Minho's first performance doesn't go as planned.

Warnings/Tags: angst, fluff, panic attack, mention of throwing up, dizziness, anxious!min, protective!chan

A/N: Looking back at this series, this is by far one of my most cherished chapters. Not only has the group learned to stick together when one of them isn't exactly stable, but also Chan and Minho finally pull at the same string. I love how the growth in both of them has been visible for you guys and I do hope this chapter proves it once more. We're almost at the end, which makes me a little nostaglic because chapter one was one of my first posts back in October (we haven't missed a week🤭). I hope you enjoy it, I'll see you next week for the last one (sobbing)🖤

Chp.19| Chp. 21

All I know is you saved me and you know it Saved me and you know it Always thought I was hard to love ' Til you made it seem so easy Easy ~ Camila Cabello

During dinner, Chan's hand kept slipping beneath the table, resting on Minho's thigh or grabbing his hand. Now that he knew, he wondered how he hadn't realized Felix and Changbin were acting the same way he and Minho had been. The secret glances, hands brushing against each other in passing, the soft smiles they shared when no one was watching. Jisung suddenly got everyone's attention. "As we all know, we have two couples amongst our group," he announced, quiet enough only for them to hear. "The funniest part about it is Chan and Changbin thinking they've been discreet, whilst Minho and Felix knew damn well the opposite is the case." 

Seungmin blinked at Chan. "You thought what? You've been drooling over Minho since we debuted." 

"Don't even start," their leader sighed heavily and hung his head, not noticing Minho's surprised glance. 

“As you all know, the rest of us have our own thing going on,” Jisung added.

"See? No reason to panic about telling the kids," Minho told Chan kindly and patted his back. "We're all grownups here." 

"Are we, though?" Felix giggled. 

"Now that we all know, no one has to sneak around the house anymore to be with one another," Seungmin concluded Jisung's announcement. 

"Amen," Felix agreed. 

"Fuck me. The house is gonna turn into a mess," Chan sighed and buried his face in his hands. 

"You think you're the only one allowed to have fun?" Jeongin asked sassily. He received a warning glare from his leader. “Also, what makes you think it wasn’t a mess before you knew?”

"I could use a drink," Minho announced cheerfully and waved over a waiter. "Anyone else? I'm paying." 

Chan chuckled softly and agreed. He could use one himself. Once everyone seemed to busy themselves with side conversations, Chan leaned a little closer to Minho. "You're so pretty, it's unreal," he whispered in his ear. Minho blushed softly. 

"Stop it," he chuckled. 

"I mean it. I've never seen someone as beautiful as you," he confessed and watched him bite his lower lip. Right, praises were something he had a thing for. "My beautiful kitten." 

Minho gasped softly, his pupils widening at the pet name. "Channie, stop," he whispered lovingly. "Not here." 

"Why not?" he asked, smirking softly. 

“You know damn well why not,” he rolled his eyes fondly.

-

Minho stared at his plate, pushing its contents from left to right for the thousandth time. He was feeling incredibly sick because he was so nervous about their press conference in a few hours. 

"Minho hyung? Aren't you hungry?" Jisung asked gently. Minho snapped out of his thoughts. 

He realized all of them were staring at him and smiled weakly, pushing his plate away. "I'm too anxious right now," he admitted as he reached for his water. But as he brought it closer to his lips, his grip around his glass got tighter as he noticed his hand trembling. 

"Can we do anything to help?" Felix spoke up next to him softly. 

"I don't think so," he shook his head and chewed on his lower lip. "I guess now that it's time, I'm scared there'll be consequences for you guys. It’s not exactly a great way to kick off promotions." 

"Whatever it is, we'll stand behind you, Min," Chan assured him. 

Minho met his eyes across the table and smiled weakly. "Are you saying this as my boyfriend or the leader of this group?" 

"Minho," Chan said softly.

"You should put the group first today, Chan. We both know that," he told him kindly. Chan lowered his gaze at the table for a moment. "I'm not afraid of the consequences because I know if I keep going like this, it'll end much worse for me,” he told them and rubbed his face tiredly. “I just don’t want you all to suffer from the news.” 

"They either get all eight of us or none of us," Changbin spoke up. 

"I'm sick of people trying to separate us," Hyunjin agreed. 

"We have your back, Minho hyung. There's nothing they can do about that," Seungmin agreed. 

"Fuck them all," Jeongin concluded with a grin. 

"Even if we didn’t worry about the consequences, Chan doesn't function without you..as we all saw repeatedly," Jisung commented dryly. 

“Thanks, Hannie,” Chan gently rolled his eyes.

Minho chuckled softly at all of them and rolled his eyes playfully. "When you put it that way, what's there to worry about." 

Felix smiled and looked at him. "Can we give you a hug?" 

"Fine," he sighed softly, secretly longing for nothing else than some physical comfort right now. He got up, and all of them gathered around him in a big group hug. Minho smiled softly and buried his face in Chan's chest as the warmth of his members finally gave him some comfort. "I love you guys," he told them after a moment. "I'm sorry for all that shit I'm putting you through currently." 

"Stop it, Minho hyung. We all have rough moments being in this industry," Changbin comforted him. 

"That's why there are seven others who have our back at all times," Hyunjin agreed. 

Once they reached their destination and had to enter the room where they'd be interviewed, Minho felt nauseous all over again. The staff would possibly kill him, or maybe he'd just get in serious trouble. Their names were announced, and they all left his side one by one, taking their places. Minho's stomach turned once more as he saw his place. Changbin, Hyunjin, Chan, Seungmin, and Jeongin were sitting on higher chairs in the back in that order. Felix was in the front row on the left, Jisung on the right, and the place in their midst was empty. They weren’t joking when they said they'd always be around him, protecting him. Minho's stage name was announced and he gave himself a mental push before walking out on stage, putting on a perfectly convincing, practiced smile. He sat down and nervously adjusted his suit jacket. 

They started out easy with some general questions about their next comeback, upcoming concerts, and already published songs. Minho didn't have to talk much and was able to fool around with the boys a little. He carefully adjusted his glasses as an interviewer called his name. 

"You've been on a break recently after collapsing on stage. Our readers are wondering what you think about said event and how you plan to continue?" she asked, looking at him expectantly. 

"As my team has already explained, I was injured and overworked at the event in question, which is why I collapsed and-," Minho stopped in his tracks, realizing this was the moment. He shouldn't just answer with the scripted version of what the staff had written up for him in case of such a question. He cleared his throat and straightened up. "Actually, I would like to make my own statement if you allow me to." 

"Please go on," she encouraged him. 

"About two months before this performance, my mental health was starting to get worse. I had trouble taking care of and trusting in myself. It got better whenever I was around my members. At some point, I defined myself through my performance only. When I got injured, I had to take a step back, which made this much harder for me. I got into a massive fight with one of the most important people in my life, which really took a toll on me," Minho said and saw some staff members in the back looking at each other nervously. "I had trouble eating, I didn't get enough sleep, and I practiced too much and too long. Because of that, my injury got worse, and I let it happen, thinking the pain I felt was the punishment I deserved for not being able to perform. I was awful to be around, and I didn’t treat the ones I call my family well, pushing them away when all they wanted was to help. I didn't have the resources to be there for them because I barely had any left for myself, which I'm very sorry for," he continued as pictures were taken of him, and he knew there were live recordings as well. 

No going back now. 

"I didn't collapse because I was injured or tired. My mental health and body couldn't keep up with what I was doing anymore. I've spent two days unconscious at the hospital, which is what made my members decide I needed to take a break. I don't regret collapsing because I wouldn't have stopped this harmful behavior otherwise and-," he stopped as his voice started shaking and swallowed hard, trying to collect himself. Suddenly, Felix took his hand and smiled at him encouragingly while Jisung rested his hand on his knee. Chan followed his heart and wrapped his arms around him from behind, ensuring he knew they were there. Minho inhaled softly and rested his hand on Chan's arm, steadying himself. "I know I’ll make myself vulnerable by saying this, but I think it's important we start normalizing that your beloved idols are humans, too. This is why I want to announce that after everything that happened, I’ve decided to see a therapist. I'm not ashamed of it, and if I want to keep being part of this family and doing my best for our fans, I need to take care of myself better," he concluded and exhaled softly.

"We want to announce that we stand behind Minho and fully support his decision. We ask our fans to show our Minho how much he means to us all and how much he is worth. Please be patient with us during this process," Chan spoke up behind him, noticing how much Minho was shaking, glancing at the staff. "Thank you so much for being here. This will be all for today." 

They all got up, making sure to surround Minho as they left the stage. Minho felt dizzy and flinched a little as suddenly two of their press advisors approached them, saying his name. They seemed ready to call him out for his shit. Chan wrapped his arm around him protectively and told them to back off, not caring that reporters were still taking pictures. Finally, they made it backstage. Chan stepped in front of him, removing his microphone for him. "Give me a moment," he mumbled as his stomach protested, quickly pushing through them and making his way to the bathroom. He ripped the door open to one of the stalls and crouched down, throwing up. All the anxiety and nervousness got to him, combined with the realization that, for the first time, he did the opposite of what he had been advised to do. Once his stomach had calmed down, Minho carefully pushed himself up and sniffled softly, trying to swallow a panic attack threatening to creep in. He pushed the door open and slowly stepped outside, flinching heavily as he saw his friends standing at the sink, all watching him worriedly. "I can't even throw up in peace?" he joked tiredly and made his way over to a sink, shakily turning on the water. He rinsed his mouth and washed his hands, thanking Hyunjin quietly, who gave him some paper towels. 

"Do you feel better after telling the truth?" Seungmin asked. 

"I'm glad it's not a secret anymore," he told them, leaning against the sink. "But besides that, no. I'm a minute away from a full-blown panic attack," he admitted, knowing there was no use hiding it. He leaned forward, bracing himself on his knees and inhaling shakily. "They'll kill me, won't they?" 

Jisung was the first one to react and stepped in front of him. "Deep breaths, Minho hyung. You'll be okay." He hugged him as he stood up straight again and soothingly rubbed his back. The others let them, knowing Jisung often found comfort in Minho when he was panicking, so it fit for him to try and return the favor. Jeongin grabbed a few paper towels, made them wet, and wrung them out before carefully placing them on the back of Minho's neck. Felix stepped next to them and gently ran his hand through his hair as Jisung guided Minho in his breathing. 

Once he had calmed down, Chan took over, pulling him into a tight hug and planting a soft kiss on his forehead. "I'm so proud of you. That was very brave." 

"I don't feel very brave right now," he gave back, making his friends chuckle. He barely noticed Changbin removing the paper towels from his neck and leaning his forehead against Chan's. "Let's go back to the hotel, please?" 

“We could stay in for the night and order takeout,” Jeongin proposed. “We’ll just meet up in one room and order there.” 

Minho smiled thankfully and nodded. “That would be nice.” 

-

"May we ask what sent you down the spiral of mental issues?" their interviewer spoke up, clearly talking to Minho. They were currently at a radio station, giving an interview about their upcoming album. Of course, the press conference from yesterday would be a topic; Minho had expected nothing less.

Minho shifted in his seat and thought for a moment. He was aware of the camera moving a little closer on him as they’d also film and upload the whole session. "As I've said, the hate, the injury, lack of sleep, and slowly stop eating altogether have all played their part in this process. It’s been weeks of feeling like shit, and I’m glad I got through the worst of it by now." 

“Many of our listeners thought it was very brave of you to open up like that since we usually don’t see this happening,” she told him with a kind smile. “That must’ve been scary.”

“It was. It still is,” he chuckled, and Jisung flashed him a gentle smile across the table. He knew how it was.

“Nevertheless, most people out there are very grateful you did that. How does that make you feel?” she asked curiously. 

“It’s a relief to hear that people can relate to my situation and don’t look down on me because of it. Also, if me opening up about my struggles helps someone, I don’t get why it is an issue to do so,” he said.

“I think a lot of people out there can relate to the feeling of trying to function when you actually feel like giving up,” Felix added.

“We’ve all been there before,” Seungmin agreed. “Maybe not as heavily, but we’ve all certainly had our struggles in the industry.”

“I think what made it so difficult was seeing Minho hyung go through it,” Hyunjin said gently. “Usually, we come to him with these issues, so no one really knew how to help.”

“Which didn’t stop them from trying, though,” Minho said reassuringly, smiling at him. “I just haven’t been so easy to deal with.”

“How has this situation been for you as a leader?” she asked, turning to Chan, sitting beside Minho quietly. 

“Oh, he struggled the most with it,” Changbin answered for him, and they all chuckled. “Minho’s always been his partner in leading the team with him.”

“That was certainly missed, yeah,” Chan laughed, winking at Minho. "I realized how much I rely on him in certain areas and I know I should've stepped up more." 

"What about that fight you mentioned? Was it with one of the members or someone else?" she asked Minho.

"That was me," Chan spoke up before Minho could answer. "I've been very difficult to deal with, and Minho didn't give up on me, which made things grow tense. I've accused him of complete bullshit to save myself and been very harsh towards him, which didn’t help him deal with his own issues." 

"But, we’ve all talked it out and are doing better than ever," Minho added with a nervous smile. 

"I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what do you mean you were difficult to deal with?" she asked. Everyone grew quiet for a moment, tension slowly rising at the question. She glanced at them, apologetically. “You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s okay,” he assured her with a warm smile and exchanged a look with Minho, who looked back at him questioningly. “I’m just trying to figure out how to start.”

“You don’t have to go in depth,” Minho assured him gently.

Chan inhaled softly before grabbing his hand beneath the table. He knew it could be seen on camera, but he couldn’t care less now. "I've been depressed, shutting everyone out for two weeks. I let some things get to me, and Minho was the only one I let near me. I didn't explain exactly how I was feeling, but he was there to hold me when I couldn't go on anymore and broke down crying repeatedly," Chan said, and everyone grew quiet. Their friends looked at Minho and Chan worriedly, hearing for the first time how much Minho actually dealt with. Minho swallowed hard. He could tell by the sound of his voice alone that Chan was having a hard time talking about it. "I've been dragging him down with me and my issues. After our fight, we both dealt with it differently. But none of us were feeling well. I’d never say I was doing as bad as him those past few weeks. Nevertheless-," his voice broke, and the grip on his hand grew tighter. 

"Chan," Minho said gently, turning a little and seeing the tears in his boyfriend's eyes.

Chan stopped for a moment, gathering himself as he found peace in Minho's soft coffee eyes. "Nevertheless, Minho saved my life even though he couldn’t stand being in a room with me at that time. And I'll be forever grateful for that. I gave up on everyone, including myself. A few weeks before Minho’s incident, I accidentally sent my goodbye message to Minho after spontaneously deciding to leave the group. I didn’t feel like I could lead them anymore and thought they’d do better without me. I knew they had Min, who would do his best to carry them through it," he said, his voice shaking as a tear ran down his cheeks. Minho blinked softly as tears brimmed his own eyes and swallowed hard, knowing he had to be strong for them in this moment. Chan wiped away the tears and exhaled shakily. "He climbed up to my balcony, even though he’s deathly scared of heights, to stop me, thinking I was talking about something else, and I-," he trailed off before holding Minho's hand up. "So yes, for everyone asking why I called him love when he collapsed or gifted him this ring, it's because I really, really love him, and I want him to know that."

Minho smiled at him and squeezed his hand. He hadn’t expected him to be that open. 

“Gosh, it sounds like you two have been through a lot lately,” she said with a compassionate smile. “Feel free to step away for a bit if you need a moment,” she told them, seeing how hard Chan was fighting back tears.

Chan exchanged a look with Minho, debating if they should take her up on that. Minho got up, still holding his hand. “Come on, Channie hyung,” he said gently, placing his headset on the table.

Minho pulled him close as soon as they were outside, his heart breaking a little at how tightly Chan clung to him, hiding his face in his shirt. “You did great, Channie love. I’m so proud of you,” he told him quietly.

“You’re right, this is scary,” he said quietly. 

“I got you,” he promised with a gentle smile, fondling his hair. “I love you so much. Thank you for having my back in there,” he whispered.

Chan pulled back and smiled as Minho wiped his cheeks for him. “I love you too, baby,” he told him quietly. He held up his pinky finger for him. “You and me against the world?”

Minho’s face softened as he returned the gesture, linking them together. “Always…Let’s go back in?”

“May I get a kiss first?” he asked.

Minho glanced around quickly before nodding. He connected their lips to a short but loving kiss and gently patted his back. “Alright, come on.”

-

The others watched them leave before turning back to their interviewer. “That is quite some story,” she said. 

“Yeah, it’s been a lot going on the past few weeks,” Jisung agreed. 

“I suppose that hasn’t been easy for you all either?” 

“We’ve had our ups and downs,” Felix told her. “Those two have formed a very deep bond over the past few years, so we all knew they could do this once they started to get along again.” 

“A very deep bond? Do you mean like very good friends? Or are the rumors true, and there’s more?”

“You could call them our parents by now. These two are so in sync it’s annoying,” Jeongin lightened the mood as they came back inside and sat down. 

“As charming as always,” Chan commented dryly.

“We’ve been blessed with a few chaotic kids. It’s only natural that we had to step up and lead them,” Minho winked at Jeongin, who stuck out his tongue at him. “See?” he asked, making everyone laugh. 

"Your friends have been telling me about that deep bond you share. Our listeners would love to know if the rumors are true?" she asked and Minho looked at Chan. 

Chan looked almost a little anxious as he met his eyes, swallowing hard at the pure love and adoration in his boyfriend's doe eyes. Minho smiled gently, taking Chan's hand and squeezing it. "Chan means a lot to me, which is why fighting with him had taken such a toll on me. We're a team and we work best when we're together," Minho said, keeping his eyes on Chan. "I love him, that sums it up well." 

"Platonic love or-?" she asked curiously. 

Minho could tell Chan wasn't quite ready to open up that much today and simply smiled, still not looking away from him. "No comment." 

Chan chuckled, finger brushing over his ring delicately. He turned toward their interviewer, taking a deep breath. "As I said, I love him too. That's all I have for you right now."

Felix and Changbin grinned as they watched them, Jisung exchanged a fond glance with Hyunjin and Jeongin winked at Seungmin. They all knew damn well how very obvious those statements have been without saying much or admitting anything. At the end of the day, their hyungs knew how to dance along the fine line. 

"Well…I wish you the best of luck then to keep what you have right now," she said with a knowing smile. 

A few weeks later

Minho adjusted his newest stage outfit and sighed after cracking his neck. He was tired and already longed to be wrapped up in Chan's arms and back in bed. He had gotten through most of his performances for the day already and was about to perform for the last time. "Can I borrow that one for a moment?" he asked Felix, who was walking past him with a fan. 

"You can keep it," Felix told him, and Minho nodded thankfully. 

He closed his eyes as the cool air hit his face and took a few deep breaths. His head was hurting a little from all the noise, so he made his way outside their dressing room, leaning against the wall. 

Only a few seconds later, the door opened again. "Are you okay?" Chan asked caringly. 

Minho nodded and flashed him a small smile. "I'm okay. It's too loud in there," he told him. 

"Understandable," he nodded agreeingly and rolled his eyes fondly. "But seriously, are you sure you’re feeling?" 

"Yeah," he nodded. 

"Your knee's alright?" he asked. 

"It has been for a while now, yes," he told him amused. 

"You're not feeling dizzy or anything?" Chan made sure, and Minho shook his head. 

"I'm overwhelmed, that's all. Today there have been a lot of bright lights and loud noises. I'm getting a bit of a headache, but I'll get through the last performance and relax later," he assured him. 

Chan stepped in front of him and gently massaged the back of his neck before going up to his temples. Minho moaned softly at the relieving touch and closed his eyes. "I'm proud of you, baby. You've worked hard today." 

"Thank you," he smiled shyly and opened his eyes again. "I missed being on stage like this."

"I know you did," he nodded and kissed his forehead. "Have I told you how much your new hair color suits you yet?" he asked, brushing back Minho's currently dark purplish hair. 

"Only a million times," he winked at him. "I like it too, no worries," he giggled. 

"So pretty." Chan gave him a short kiss. "Can I walk you to the stage?" 

"Sure," he smiled sweetly and laughed as their friends all came outside. 

"We wouldn't want to miss your last performance," Jisung smiled. 

"You guys are so sweet," Minho told them and took Chan's hand. "Alright, let's go." 

"Good luck," Chan told him right before he left, and Minho took his place on stage. 

He was feeling alright throughout the performance, hitting his notes beautifully and dancing smoothly as always. 

"Gosh, he sounds so good," Jisung beamed excitedly as Minho hit a high note.

"Is he okay, though?" Felix frowned softly. 

"Right? It looked like he stumbled a bit," Jeongin nodded nervously. 

"He's shaking," Seungmin added. 

"Please shut up," Chan said anxiously, seeing all of it himself. His eyes haven’t left Minho the entire performance. 

Minho knew the song was coming to an end and felt relieved, knowing he'd soon be back home. He stepped forward at the end and panted heavily, finally feeling how exhausted his body actually was. He squinted his eyes as the audience began to blur in front of him, and felt dizziness taking over his body. Not again. Minho pulled his earpiece out as a high-pitched tone rang through his ear and clutched his chest, pained. Fuck. He nervously glanced to the stage exit, debating if he should risk staying where he was or getting off stage before another debacle. 

"What the fuck is he doing?" Changbin asked worriedly. 

"He doesn't look good," Hyunjin agreed. They all glanced at Chan, who was anxiously chewing on his lower lip. The moment Minho sank down to his knees, head hanging low as he tried to hide his pain, Jisung, Felix, and Changbin held Chan back. 

"Hey, let me go! He needs help!" he protested. 

"Chan hyung, you can't storm on stage now, okay?" Seungmin told him. 

"There's staff already out there to help him," Jeongin pointed out as someone brought him water. 

"I told them it would be too much for him," Chan said weakly. 

"We know, he knows as well," Felix said calmingly. 

"Fuck it, I'm getting him off stage," Chan groaned and pushed them off before making his way on stage. 

"Fucks sake, Chan," Felix groaned. 

Minho looked up at him, surprised as Chan was suddenly kneeling down next to him and cupping his face. "Relax," he whispered, noticing the anxiety in Chan's eyes. "We're on stage, angel." 

"You got dizzy?" he asked gently, and Minho nodded. 

"It was a little too much," he told him tiredly. "My body hurt and gave up on me for a minute." 

"You think you can get up?" he asked, and Minho nodded bravely, letting Chan help him up. Chan wrapped his arm around him tightly and led him off the stage. As soon as they were backstage, Chan snapped at one of their staff members. "I told you it would be too much!" 

"Chan," Minho cut him off sharply, and everyone looked at him worriedly. "I said I would be fine. I overestimated myself, and my body showed me that I was not ready for this yet. It's fine, let it be." 

"You wouldn't have done it if they hadn't suggested it. You're trying to satisfy them again," he told him. 

Minho tiredly rubbed his hurting head and looked at the staff members. "Can you get the car, please? I need a break." They nodded at him and quickly called their car. 

"Wrong place, wrong time, Chan hyung," Jisung told him gently, letting Minho brace himself on his shoulder. "Come on, let's sit down somewhere until the car's here." Seungmin came to help and wrapped his arm around his waist, steadying him. 

Felix gently rested his hand on Chan's arm. "He needs his boyfriend now, not our leader," he told him softly, and Chan glanced at him nervously. 

"I just want him to be okay again," he confessed weakly. 

"We know," Changbin told him kindly. 

"You can still talk about schedules later. Right now, he needs a hug and you telling him he did amazing today," Hyunjin told him. 

"Go on," Jeongin gave him a gentle push. 

Chan groaned softly but did as they said and walked over to them. He crouched in front of Minho, and his heart fluttered at his boyfriend's tired smile. "Sorry, I lost my temper back there."

"You were worried, it’s alright," he told him kindly, not noticing Seungmin and Jisung leaving them alone. Minho gently reached out for him and fondled his hair. "I promise you, I'm okay. Just very tired." 

"I'm sorry I got scared for a second," he confessed and sat on the sofa next to him. Minho turned slightly and pressed his forehead against Chan's. Their hands found each other, and Minho squeezed it gently. 

"I'm here, I’m still conscious," he promised. 

Chan pulled him into his lap and hugged him close as Minho sank against him with a soft sigh. "You were amazing today. I'm really proud of you," he told him. 

"Thanks, Channie hyung," he smiled sweetly and closed his eyes. "I'm so tired," he said softly. 

"You can sleep. I'll take care of everything else," he assured him. Minho didn't need a second invitation. 

Chan carried him to the car later, protecting his head as he leaned down to sit him inside. He sat down next to him, letting him sleep on his shoulder. He carried him inside once they reached home. At home, he laid him down on his bed and filled the bathtub with warm water to soothe his hurting body. He got him undressed and into the tub, bracing him as he very gently washed his hair and body. Minho was only half awake throughout the process, but appreciated the gesture nonetheless. 

Chan got him dressed again before carrying him downstairs and sitting on the sofa with him on his lap. Felix handed him a plate with some food, and Chan started feeding Minho slowly. Minho was barely able to keep his eyes open but made sure to eat a little, knowing he needed the energy. He grew heavy against him and fell asleep as soon as Chan started running his hand through his hair. 

The others all made sure to eat quietly and only talked with their voices lowered to give him some rest. Later, they put on a movie and gathered on the sofa around them, knowing if Minho woke up, he'd feel better seeing them continuing their day as always. He woke up later with a massive headache and winced softly as he moved on top of him. 

Chan looked down worriedly. "What's wrong?" 

"Headache," he groaned, melting into him as Chan massaged his scalp and temples. Felix came over with a glass of water and a pain pill for him, which he took, thankfully. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep again, curling up in Chan's arms. 

Chan kept on lovingly massaging his head for a while and smiled softly as Minho grew calm again. The others all slowly went to bed until it was just Chan, Jisung, and Minho left. 

"You need help carrying him upstairs?" Jisung offered quietly. Chan glanced down at Minho sleeping peacefully on his chest. 

"I think we'll just stay on the sofa for the night," he shook his head. "I don't want to wake him up again." 

"Alright," he nodded and gently patted Chan's shoulder. "Sleep well, Chan hyung." 

"You too, Hannie," he smiled and watched him leave. Chan got comfortable on the sofa and pulled Minho down with him, who stirred in his sleep. "It's fine, keep sleeping," he told him quietly, fondling his hair. Minho cuddled into him, and soon Chan fell asleep right after. 

Chp.19| Chp. 21

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@atinyniki @mal-lunar-28 @lilmisssona @aaasia111 @galaxycatdrawz @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @malfoygalaxies @rebecca-johnson-28 @mellhwang @lixie-phoria @michelle4eve @gxtwllsn @xxstrayland @kibs-and-bits

#stray kids #skz #chan #minho #minchan #skz fic #chan fic #stray kids fic #minho fic #chan angst #chan fluff #minho angst #minho fluff #lee know angst #lee know fluff #bangchan angst #bangchan fluff #minchan angst #minchan fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #skz angst #skz fluff #poly!skz #poly!stray kids #addicted to you #stray kids series #minchan series

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for venting?

Long post, sorry for that. One of my (25M) best friends (22F) is someone I met online a few years ago in college. She's a great person, really well-spoken and funny and supportive, but she's also highly opinionated just like me. Sometimes, when we disagree, we get into heated arguments.

As a kid I used to have bad anger issues, but (after a lot of therapy) I'm now trying to deal with them in a better way. One of those ways is that when I get upset during arguments like this, rather than saying something I know I don't really mean and I'll regret later, I'll instead excuse myself from the chat and go talk to another unrelated friend. Sometimes I'll vent to them about our argument, but mostly not.

Last Friday, me and my best friend went on a trip to meet in person for the first time. During the trip, there was a moment when I let them use my phone to talk to our other friends while I went to grab something from the hotel room. When I came back, my best friend was a little quiet (unusual for her.)

I asked what was wrong and she told me that she saw where I was venting to a different friend after an argument before the trip. I'll admit, I was being a dick during the conversation and said some petty shit I shouldn't have, especially since that other friend isn't a fan of my best friend. It was childish and needlessly mean so I did apologize for that much right away.

My main issue was that chat was 1. a good couple of weeks before the trip and waaaay back in the DMs so she had to search for it 2. from a friend we both know she doesn't like (and wasn't on the server we were talking in, so I don't know why she was even in my DMs) and 3. I never repeated what I said there to her nor did I let it affect how I act towards her. Every other mention since that point (even in that DM) was positive.

She says that none of that matters because I shouldn't be venting about her at all to other people and that I come across as a two-faced friend. That really stung, so I asked if we could shelve the conversation until we got back to the room (we were eating dinner) since I didn't want to cause a scene by getting visibly upset in public. She agreed for the moment, but once we did get back we argued some more.

Again, I know I was being a bit of an ass and I do genuinely feel bad about that. My friend might get on my nerves, but I shouldn't be insulting just because. That being said, I don't think that venting when I'm frustrated to an uninvolved third party is quite on the same level as being two-faced or a bad friend and I really don't appreciate her going through my private messages when I trusted her with my phone to seemingly just find conversations to judge me for.

AITA? Or does everyone kinda suck here?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole