#and lucas was still there to reach out for him at the end no matter how far ben had gone because of that. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 6 months

Text

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 43

Part 1 Part 42

Will’s loitering around the school, Dustin, Will, and Lucas plastered to his sides like burrs as he waits for Jonathan to get out of school and pick him up. The hallways are almost empty – everyone else allowed to take buses, and ride bike, and walk home; Will left the odd one out.

Even his friends who are dawdling by his side as they walk the empty parking lot have bikes chained up at the front of the school. They’re only still here because Will’s not allowed to be left alone. By anyone.

The air is crisp, biting into his cheeks, but it’s too crisp to be the other side. Snow is on the horizon, not ash. He can smell it.

Mike’s talking about El in a hushed voice, moaning about Hopper blocking all access like the protective Father he isn’t. Will wishes his problems felt as small as Mike’s are,, and promptly feels bad about the thought.

It’s just, winter is in the air, and the sky is getting darker earlier each day. In a few more weeks, Will’s not sure he’ll even be able to get home after school without the specter of the Demogorgon hunting him from the shadows between each tree.

He wishes he didn’t live so close to the woods.

He wishes he could live in Steve and Eddie’s pockets like they live in each other’s. He only feels covered when he’s looking at Steve Harrington’s broad back.

Jonathan’s car pulls into the empty parking lot, and Dustin, Lucas, and Mike run off with shouts of goodbye. Only Dustin looks back, waits for Will to shuffle into the passenger seat before waving and peddling quickly to catch up.

Jonathan’s heat is up high enough to hurt. Will sinks into it, puts his frozen hands up to the vents to dethaw.

“How was school?” Jonathan asks, The Doors playing near silently from his crackly radio.

“It was okay,” Will says, thinking of Zombie Boy shouted out at him like a slur in the hallways. Thinking about how sometimes he’ll walk up to his friend’s and be greeted by abrupt, strained silences, like a few days in the Upside-Down has made him a freaks among the freaks.

Jonathan hums, but doesn’t press. WIll loves him for it. As they drive toward home, the long-familiar fishhook feelings hooks and yanks his stomach. In a moving car, it’s almost a queasy thing, like he always imagined being on a sailboat would feel. He’s being pulled in two directions and his organs are sloshing around with it.

“Can we go see Steve and Eddie?” Will asks quietly.

Jonathan’s hands clench hard, shitty steering wheel vinyl creaking. He sighs, like a dog when you won’t share a piece of your dinner no matter how hard it begs. He takes a u-turn without a word, heading toward Forest Hills, knowing just like Will does that if they’re not already there, that’s where Steve and Eddie will end up soon.

Will knows they’re not there yet before Jonathan parks in the vacant spot where Eddie’s van usually presides. He puts it in park, doesn’t take the key out of the ignition, turns the heater down just a hair.

“I just don’t get it,” Jonathan says, looking at the Munson’s closed front door, not looking Will’s way at all.

“Get what?” Will asks, even though he knows.

Jonathan sighs that same sigh. “Just–” he runs a hand through his discheveled hair until it partially covers his eyes, “you spend a few days with them and now it’s like they’re all you think about.”

Will looks down at his lap, can’t meet Jonathan’s eyes even when he feels his brother turn to look at him. Left unsaid in the space between them is that Jonathan doesn’t get them, doesn’t get him anymore, when they’re all each other has had for years.

“You weren’t there,” Will says. He knows it’ll hurt even before Jonathan breaths in like he’s been shot.

The heater and radio static break up the silence. Will can still feel it.

“Can you–” Jonathan srarts. Will sees, out of the corner of his eyes as Jonathan reaches out toward him before dropping it. “Can you try to explain?” Will looks down at his dirty sneakers, thinking. He doesn’t have the words. But hten Jonathan says, “please?” all quiet and desperate and Will turns.

He pulls his feet up onto the seat, arms wrapped around his knees, turning his body to face Jonathan as Jonathan does the same. Jonathan’s knee bangs on the bottom of the steering wheel, but he gets it all the way up to mirror Will’s posture, both their shoulders hunched, both of their arms around their knees.

“I was really scared,” WIll says, for the first time admitting something that was obvious. “And then they saved me.”

Jonathan nods, meeting his eyes. “And that’s it?”

Will shakes his head, looks down at the stick shift separating them. “No,” he says, fidgeting his fingers anxiously. “I think there’s something wrong with me.”

Jonathan reaches across the car, covering Will’s knee with his big palm and squeezing. “There’s nothing wrong with you.” He doesn’t understand, Will can tell.

“No,” he says, shaking his head, eyes prickling. The fishline is slackening now. He can feel it. They’re on their way. “This isn’t like that.”

“Like?”

“Like, a stupid teenager thing,” Will says. How does he say this isn’t about puberty, or growing up, or a fight with his friends, or even the isolation of the school halls where everyone treats him like he’s oil and everyone else is water.

“Okay,” Jonathan says in that calm, quiet way that always calms WIll down. “What is it then?”

Will looks back down at the stick shift, Jonathan’s foot now propped up against it after he’d stretched it out. His sneakers are too small – Will can see his pinky toe pushing up against the side.

“Like, there’s something in me,” Will says. “And it’s in them too.” Jonathan doesn’t say anything, but Will can feel his eyes on him. “I can feel them, right now.” He whispers it out, a secret in this car confessional of two.

“Feel them, how?”

“It’s, itchy? When they’re too far.” WIll says, struggling to find words he’s not sure exist. “And I can tell they’re turning into the trailer park right now.” He touches the hollow just below his ribs, looks up into Jonathan’s eyes. “Right here.”

Jonathan’s brows are furrowed, eyes intense, just as Eddie’s van comes peeling into view, parking haphazardly in front of Eddie’s trailer. Jonathan’s eyes go wide. He hadn’t gotten it until this moment. Will can see it hit him in the dilation of his pupils. “Like El?” he asks, quiet as Eddie tumbles out of the driver’s seat and rushes over to open the passenger side door for Steve like a goofy knight.

“I don’t know.”

Jonathan glances over just in time to watch a wan-faced Steve take Eddie’s hand to hoist himself out of the van. “Do they?”

Part 44

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @1-8oo-wtfbro @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b

#steddie upsidedown au #my fic #steddie fic

404 notes · View notes

sheisjoeschateau · 4 months

Text

"Oh, so we DO love Steve..." | PART II

ALRIGHT, SECOND PART IS OUT. NOT WAITING. hope u like :)

⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader || enemies to lovers trope.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE COPIED AND/OR REPOSTED ON HERE OR ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR PUT INTO ANY AI PROGRAMS. THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG, MDNI.

An original fanfiction series, written by Misha St. James.

This isn't your first time meeting Steve Harrington.

You know him. And he knows you. Well, maybe. Who knows. You both run in completely different circles in high school.

While there's some very obvious tension amongst the love triangle (Nancy-Steve-Jonathan) you take a second to look over at the group of kids behind King Steve. There's a curly-haired kid wearing a cap, another kid sporting a bandana, and a redheaded girl. They give you sort of awkward waves, which you return with a tight-lipped grin.

"Sorry," Jonathan's suddenly saying. "Uh, you guys, this is umm -"

"Bauman," you interject. "Just...call me Bauman."

Steve is now looking at you, realizing. Recognizing. "Hey," he says. "Wait, aren't you in Click's class?"

You press your lips into a thin line, trying not to be totally off-put by him. And in truth, you weren't really. Steve had seemed less... douchey, since he started dating Nancy. You were grateful for that. No matter how doomed their relationship was, it seemed to help him get rid of his trash friends. God, Tommy H. and Carol and that Nicole girl were just toxic.

"Yeah," you said, reaching out a hand. "Nice to officially meet you."

Steve shook your hand, a bit sheepish. And still distracted with the fact that his girlfriend had shown up with Byers. Why was she with Byers? You felt yourself internally cringing, seeing how oblivious yet aware he was. It actually made you feel bad.

"I'm Dustin!"

You suddenly looked in the direction of a toothy-grinned kid smiling at you, and you couldn't help but grin back. "Hey, Dustin."

Lucas and Max introduced themselves, too. But then, you all heard sound coming from off in the distance. The lab.

So yeah, things took a pretty sharp turn from there. It's all kind of a blur, if you're being honest. Everyone began talking over each other, eventually gathering info as to exactly who you are and why you were here (at least the general just of it). They learned about Murray Bauman, and Steve's face just became more perplexed, the more that Nancy and Jonathan revealed what they had learned...together.

...yikes.

But the kids were also asking you a million questions, very curious about you. Max found you funny, finding you to have more cool-girl energy than Nancy, who just seemed too polished for her to know how to communicate with her.

Eventually, Nancy noticed the power back on at the lab and you all took off in that direction. Steve was arguing a lot with the kid named Dustin. Very brotherly. Low-key motherly. The toll gate wouldn't open, then suddenly it did open, and then next thing you know a car is racing towards you from the lab and it's got Jim Hopper at the steering wheel? He's throwing the door open, demanding all of you to get in.

As you all drive, you end up near the front of the car, squished between Steve and Dustin.

"Bauman."

You look over at Jim, surprised. But he's looking at you in the rearview with all-knowing eyes. "You're Murray's niece."

You nod. "Yeah. Jim Hopper, right?"

Jim reaches back to pat your knee, eyes on the road and still shaken up from whatever the hell they just escaped. "M'sorry, kid. Your uncle's been getting shit from me. I know he sent you. M'really sorry. I'll make it right with him after all this, alright? Promise."

You just nod, knowing there's really no time for any of that right now. Since you got in the car, you haven't even had time to notice how there is a woman (clearly Joyce Byers) in pure distress, along with another kid in tow and the limp body of another child that she's holding. Jonathan is reaching for him, riddled with worry. Is that Will?

Once you all make it back to the Byers residence, it's tense. Really fucking tense. Jonathan is knelt in front of the couch, voicing his regrets out loud as he stares at his brother's limp form. Nancy stands behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. You're on the opposite side of the room, leaned against the wall.

Which is why you notice that behind Hopper, who's yelling into the wall phone, Steve. He looks...devastated. Hurt. Heartbroken.

...fuck, he looks heartbroken.

He walks past you, pinching his nose and sniffing once. He looks like he's really fighting off some emotion, escaping to another room. It makes you think about everything that went down at your uncle's bunker, and how maybe it was funny there...but it isn't here. Not now, seeing that this guy actually has some intense feeling for Nancy Wheeler. Intense love for her. Real love.

...but Nancy doesn't feel that same intense love for him.

...oh god, that's messy.

But all hell is breaking loose before you can linger on that for much longer. Suddenly, you're all devising a plan. It has something to do with dungeons and dragons, and Will being possessed, and getting him in a room that whatever monster is inside of him won't recognize. The you're all deciphering Morse Code, and it's a whirlwind from there.

And then you're all holding weapons, bracing fore an attack...when some young girl walks in. Who you come to learn is the infamous Eleven. Her hair grew back, and she looks ready to join a punk band.

Pretty bitchin' look, you gotta admit.

The kids introduce her to you, and she gives you a shy smile. Then you're all splitting up into groups, and you catch a brief exchange between Nancy and Steve. He's saying something to her about going with Jonathan, and it makes you tense for Nancy. You can't even imagine how she must feel, knowing that he sees it.

And honestly, the way that Steve talks is...so not King Steve. It's uncharacteristically mature. Secure, and assuring. Not that of the teen heartthrob and bad boy you've been going to school with. And when Nancy does go off with Jonathan, you see Harrington's heart shatter into a million pieces with just the look in his eyes.

You feel bad. You suddenly feel really bad.

But also, he had to have seen this coming. Right? Jonathan Byers was a good, decent guy, who'd been there for Nancy all throughout the hell of last year. Steve had come around, finally. But by then, the trauma bond between Byers and Wheeler was irreversible. There's no changing that.

But damn, unrequited love sucks.

You knew was rejection felt like, and you wouldn't wish it on anyone. Not even your worst enemy.

Out of guilt, you make some conversation with Steve. Given it's just the two of you with the kids left at the house, needing to wait things out, you both easily make conversation. It's a bit awkward at first, but oddly it finds flow pretty easily. Steve's still got his charm, although it's a little more grounded than before. It isn't forced, or laced with popular-kid attitude. That's refreshing.

As you both end up listening to the kids like the only two parental figures around, then end up having to fight off that psycho new kid at school named Billy Hargrove (who's actually Max's stepbrother?!) and patch up Steve's very beaten and battered face which somehow still looks pretty, annnnd wind up in a tunnel full of creatures (demo dogs? is that what Dustin called them?), then somehow survive all of that shit... you and Steve become pretty bonded, pretty quickly.

And when the worst of it is seemingly over, you end up helping Eleven get ready for the Snowball -- dropping her off with Hopper. He's grateful for your help, and after making amends with your uncle you two have gotten to know each other well, too. He likes you, appreciating your mature sense of self.

Joyce adores you already, being the kind-natured and loving mama-bear that she is.

And El? Well, she loves you. You're like a cool older sister figure of sorts.

You and Steve run into each other when dropping off the kiddos at the Snowball, making conversation about how crazy everything was. You talk about other things, too. Just mundane things, bouncing off each other well. But when Steve notices Nancy inside, he gets that sad puppy-dog look in his eyes again. Then, Jonathan's coming out of the dance with a camera. He clearly was the designated photographer for the night.

And he clearly has captured Nancy Wheeler's heart.

One night, after Jonathan and Nancy have started going steady and you're all on summer break, you're all over at the Henderson's house watching the kids. The adults are there, too, since Mrs. Henderson is out working overnight. Murray is pouring up drinks for the adults and teens, much to Joyce's disapproval. But he just goes about his business, clinking glasses. Hopper honestly looks like he could really use a fucking drink. Or 5.

You, Steve, Nancy and Jonathan all toast, happily. Chatting. Laughing. Making light of things.

...but that ends up being pretty short-lived.

Before you know it, you're in the kitchen helping clean up while Joyce gets the kids in bed and Hopper is on the couch slurring with your uncle. Steve had offered to help you, but Dustin insisted that he come see something in his room before they all went to bed. Nancy has left with Mike and Max, while Lucas is staying the night.

Welp. Jonathan walks in, drunk, telling you thank you.

It's sloppy, and it would be funny except for the fact that he is talking so fucking loud. He's just thanking you, and then Murray, over and over -- "...for meddling with'm love life because now, I'm dating th'most beautifurrrl girl in Hawkins. N'if'it weren't for y'two...I'd still'b pining o'r h-her."

...annnnd then he’s blabbering on about how you let him and Nancy take the bed. “Well’lmost… ha, w-we ended urp…takin’th…couch. Whischhh…you tol’us you’w’d…toHaLLy tAkE’stead.” Then he’s snickering, drunkenly. “Cuz’you toooootally wanted us to doooo itttt. Schhhhhhayin that — m’not the safe one. That’m — I’m the one’th Nannnncy l-loves. Not…S-Steve…”

You just chuckle nervously, giving him a pat on the shoulder. And you just keep washing the dishes when he gives you a tight hug from behind, stumbling a bit and making you almost drop and break one of Mrs. Henderson's very cute plates.

Right on cue, Steve rounds the corner, having heard it.

All of it.

And now that Steve has gotten wind of the fact you played a huge role — along with Murray — on why Nancy left him, he is totally pissed.

In fact, he’s livid.

"Steve," you try, but he just holds up a hand, staring daggers at you.

"Save it, Bauman," he grits. "Save. It."

It causes him to have the utmost disdain towards you, border lining hate. It just festers over time, getting worse.

Something about that makes your stomach flip inside out with a horrible, upset feeling. Your guts feel knotted up, and if the reality of things weren't so bleak, you would laugh at the fact that losing Steve Harrington's friendship (let alone trust) would upset you one day, let alone even happen. You feel bad. You really do. But God, as time goes on... his entire attitude about it is insufferable. He isn't letting up any time soon. Not when you both meet up with the kids (because regardless of the strain between you two, you're both the parents now). It feels like two divorced parents, meeting up to share custody of the chitlins.

The only relationship to which Steve is committed, is the one that he shares with Miss Hatred. And you're her bitch.

...guess there's still some King Steve in him after all.

You knew King Steve. He was an ass. So you know what? Suck it, Harrington. Karma’s a bitch.

As time passes, you begin firing back at him - tired of trying to explain yourself, apologize or play nice. Steve wants to fucking play? Alright then. Game on, Harrington.

There's a whole upside down universe threatening to take over still? All good. Let's still brawl, Harrington.

The kids keep bringing you both around each other, and you're also working at a place inside of the same damn mall as Steve is for the summer? AWESOME.

LET'S GET READY TO FUCKIN RUMBLE.

So yeah, you’re totally involved in the whole mall ordeal with the Russians, bonding you to Steve and Robin, along with Dustin and Erica.

But despite that, Steve still resents you. So there is still rivalry between the two of you. Hot and bothered.

That said, despite his pure disdain towards you...it doesn't change the fact that you actually do begin to see him for the much better human that he is becoming. King Steve has fallen. No doubt. You see that. The way that he loves and cares the kids, especially Dustin. And the way that Steve reacts whenever Robin comes out to you both? He's an angel. Hell, he even fought the soldiers off of you whenever they decided to make you their torture-chamber play-thing. He definitely got mad at them for that one, but he also got mad at you for not going with Dustin and Erica before all of that went down. You both nearly strangled each other when attempting to hold the door shut, yelling at each other to run. Robin had finally joined you both, but still - neither of you budged.

Steve was a good guy. A nice guy, even. Just not to you, unless the moment called for him to be. Which was fine.

…but he’s still annoying. And apparently, he can hold a fucking grudge like no other. He’s a world class champ at that, come to find out. Gold star.

You're onboarded to help Hopper, Murray and Joyce with shutting the gate. It's a no-brainer. Steve looks a little miffed, seeing how the adults trust you like one of them rather than him. Even the way that Jonathan is so cool around you, and Nancy seems shy around you, it just...irks him.

When you manage to help Joyce close the gate, you witness the death of Hopper. And it kills you, along with your uncle. You ache for Joyce, unable to fathom how you'll have to bring it up to El.

But hey, you all manage to destroy the Mind Flayer. And when Billy is killed in the process, you tend to Max like a true older sister. She and Eleven have both come to look up to you as such, and Steve won't deny the fact that you're a saint with these kids. A real fucking saint. And if he's being honest...he's relieved to have a co-parenting partner.

But that is the extent of his gratitude towards you, which is strictly circumstantial. You make things convenient sometimes.

Hopper dying hits all of you hard. And you do everything that you can to help your uncle not drink himself to death. It's the only reason that you don't regularly visit the Wheelers in California. Your uncle is a wreck. Hopper was the only man who truly felt like a friend to your very lonely (by choice) Uncle Murray.

Steve does single you out to ask how you're doing, knowing that witnessing Hopper's death was tragic. But you just tell him that the real concern is your uncle and Joyce, insisting that you will get by. Steve seems hesitant at first, knowing that you're not fine. He might hate you, but he still cares about a party member who got put through hell.

"I'm alive, Steve. So I need to carry on. For everyone's sakes. I'll be alright."

As time goes on...

You and Steve give Robin very conflicting love advice, when it comes to her crush on Vikki.

"VIKKI LIKES BOOBIES."

"Christ, Steve," you're groaning in the backseat. "Stop being such a damn teenage boy."

"I'm almost 20, Bauman," he scowls at you in the rearview mirror.

You make a face, exaggerating feigned apology. "'Scuuuuuse me."

Man, he could not hate you more. Steve is sure of that. You are the worst. Why are you here. You are just the worst. Every time he looks at you, all he sees is Murray Bauman but as a much hotter 19-year-old girl with way more better comebacks and select timing.

AND NO, THAT IS NOT A COMPLIMENT.

!!!!!!!!

Next thing you know, Chrissy Cunningham has been found dead in a trailer that belongs to Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson. Who, according to Dustin, is not only still in high school — he’s also friends with them? Yikes. But Dustin swears that he’s not a murderer.

You choose to believe Dustin. Much to Steve’s chagrin. In his mind, any chance that you get to disagree with him, you will gladly fucking take it. He is really committed to you being his enemy.

And you know what? Fine. You can play. You've been playing.

Eventually, Nancy comes back into the picture.

And honestly? Watching her be all into Steve again? As if she isn't in a relationship with Jonathan still? That pisses you off.

Not because you’re jealous. No, no. Not that.

…yeah no, it’s not that.

Nah, it’s the way this girl just cannot for the life of her figure out what she is feeling. Dear lord, woman. Pick.

Eventually, you comment on this. But not until Eddie Munson is suddenly roped into y’all’s crew and you both strangely hit it off. You share the same taste in music. You both compare concert history, listing off you're favorites and randomly bursting into song. Very scream-o, metal music. Eddie thinks you're the shit, and you make him laugh a lot. He also makes you laugh a lot.

Steve hates that. He really, really hates that.

But not because he is jealous. No, no. It’s not that.

…yeah, it’s definitely not that.

Nah, it’s the way you make friends with someone he isn't a fan of just to spite him. You know he doesn’t like Eddie. You know he feels replaced by Dustin for him. You’re doing this shit on purpose. He knows it. He just knows it.

Regardless, you both stand by each other throughout the whole Vecna ordeal. And Max? She loves you. Trusts you. A lot. You also tell her not to give Steve so much shit. So he’ll give you that.

But that’s all he’s gonna give you. And even that has its limits.

Whenever you all find out that Max is cursed, the first person that Steve finds himself looking at is you. Because you're the co-parent. You've gotta help him know what to do. You feel the exact same way.

You both witness her possession in he graveyard. You both help calm the kids down, and each other. Whenever Max writes letters to each of you, she looks at both you and Steve for a long time. A really long time. It's very uncomfortable.

...then she's finally handing you both a letter, and the look she shoots you both afterwards in really unsettling. Like she knows something.

But what the hell is there to know? That you both can't stand each other? NEWSFLASH: EVERYBODY KNOWS THAT. So joke's on them.

...not Max though. She's in trouble. So she's allowed to know whatever the hell...that she...knows...?

You and Steve both profusely disagree with everyone about the idea of Max becoming the bait. In fact, it's the first time that you both are defending each other to everyone else. Whenever Max argues Steve, you tell her to listen.

"Steve has every right to be worried right now. We all do, Max."

She sighs, knowing that you're right.

And whenever Dustin tries to get quippy with you about stuff, Steve shuts him down real fast.

"Hey. Not cool. Bauman's in the right, check yourself."

Dustin also sighs, knowing that he's right.

Because you both know these kids better than anyone. You helped Mike ease up on Hopper, becoming that one older-sister figure he can actually go to and be normal around. Hell, he even hugs you. Mike never hugs anyone, except El. And Lucas? You and Steve are at every single one of his games, like proud parents. Will calls you whenever he wants to paint, knowing that you enjoy art. You've spent many nights painting with him, and even Steve will join with the other kids. They mostly just finger paint and bicker, but it's still lovely in its own sort of way. And then there's Dustin. The golden child, who both of you wanna hug and strangle at the same time. He is forever putting the two of you in close proximity, secretly loving the tension between the two of you. He figures that it's just because you both wanna be the favorite parent, and Dustin is too fixated on why Steve hasn't started dating Robin to even remotely suspect that you two could be an item.

There's a plan in motion now. It's in full swing, all groups peeling off. There's a new species added to the fucked up realm (the newly coined named for them is demo-bats) and you've somehow saved Steve's ass for the 3rd time. This guy seriously cannot catch a break.

But now, Eddie’s suddenly encouraging Steve to go after Nancy again. And damn, that bugs you. It really motherfuckin’ gets under your skin. Because Eddie doesn’t know the full story about what went down between them. Not even close.

You can't help yourself. You tell Steve this, once Eddie walks up ahead. But of course, Steve is rebuking everything that you are saying.

And then he's telling you that Nancy is different, and -- “actually, things are better.”

But you scoff at that, incredulously. And you're telling him to "wake up and realize that 1) she’s still with lover-boy Byers, and 2) you shouldn’t pine after someone who chose someone else over you."

You mean to say it kindly. Honestly, you try to.

But Steve doesn’t think so. And he’s faster. He’s also cruel.

“Maybe that’s why you broke us up, huh?" Steve is firing back at you with all that he's got now. "Because you’re used to that. Being the second choice. Weren’t you Clark’s best friend? Didn’t he drag you along until he ended up picking Becky? Yeah. Thought I didn’t know that, right? Or how you hung out with some of the basketball guys and never once got asked out by any of them? God, it’s so obvious. Also, it’s pathetic. You clearly hate seeing anyone happy. So hey, guess what? You got your wish: successfully ruining someone else’s happiness. Bingo! Congratulations, you won.”

It hurts. It really does. It fucking hurts.

Still, you do try to reason with him. It’s a little harsh, you’ll admit it. You’re not exactly speaking to him sweetly. But you try.

“All my personal love life issues aside —" you start, bringing your voice down and speaking as level as possible. "...which honestly, I’ve never even had something worth labeling as love — Steve, YOU still deserve to —”

“To suffer,” he cuts you off. “Yeah. I know. And the fact you’ve not had love? That just further proves my point. You admit it and yet you’re still out to get me. Because you’re fucking miserable.”

Alright, you’ve had it.

“I’m miserable?” you ask, ready to fire back. “Steve. You’re the one letting your ex-girlfriend — who didn’t even properly dump you — toy with your brain again into actually thinking she’s gonna pick you this time. She doesn’t deserve that. And you certainly don’t deserve —”

“You deserve nothing.” Steve is seething. Then hissing at you, “You’re bullshit, Bauman. You and your whack job Uncle. You’re both bullshit.”

So you stop. You let it go.

You let Steve Harrington hate you and suffer his own misfortunes. And you pretend that what he said didn’t just shatter your soul into a million tiny pieces. You nod at him, swallowing hard.

“My uncle is twice the man you’ll ever be. King Steve.”

It’s a pathetic last attempt. And your voice feels small, tight. But standing up for your uncle is better than yourself at this point. You walk off, away from him.

And Steve doesn’t tell you to stop. He doesn’t tell you not to walk away. He lets you.

So he doesn’t see you cry alone inside of the upside down version of the Wheelers’ bathroom. He doesn’t see your heart break in two, and he doesn’t see you bite back the sobs sinking your teeth into your palms.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #dustin henderson

262 notes · View notes

aphrogeneias · 9 months

Note

''i was supposed to take a shower, alone, but go ahead jump right in'' with literally anyone you see fit to match this prompt??? :)) also hi! hope your night is going well!

26. ''i was supposed to take a shower, alone, but go ahead jump right in'' + steve harrington x reader

warnings: established relationship, hurt/comfort, non-sexual nudity, mentions of death, the aftermath of the battle against vecna, i made steve cry (but it's ok, he needs it)

You try not to look too much at the blood that's pooling under your feet, painting the hot water falling from the shower to the cold tiled floor a bright red.

Most of it is yours. You also try not to think too much about the part that is not.

Time seemed to move differently after you got home. Not your home, Steve's — but it was yours all the same. He used to joke and say that, since you were always alone in his big house, the two of you were playing house, practicing for when you had your own. It was a sweet dream, but with the world ending all around you, it felt more distant than ever.

Swallowing the lump that grows in your throat, you blink back tears that also threaten to rise. You're alone now, after spending hours making sure everyone was all right. Holding Lucas' hand while they wheeled Max into surgery, wiping Dustin's tears away while he mourned the death of his friend, your friend, Eddie. Making sure Steve was well enough to take care of everyone else, including you, as he always insisted to.

You were both exhausted, and that exhaustion was taking a toll now that you were in the shower, away from everyone else. Mostly, you just stood there, watching the dirt and grime and blood wash away after scrubbing yourself raw. Numb to the world, after everything you've seen and lived that night that never seemed to end.

Vaguely, you hear the bathroom door open, and some shuffling of clothes being removed. Steve, you figured, and he must be as lethargic as you, because it takes a while until the shower curtain moves and reveals your naked boyfriend, quietly joining you in the shower.

"I was supposed to take a shower, alone, but go ahead, jump right in." You try to joke, not knowing what to say. Your back is turned to Steve as you finish rinsing your hair, but when you don't hear an answer, just a vague snuggle, you turn, reaching out for him. "Hey, are you okay, baby?"

It's a dumb question. None of you are okay, but you ask anyway, hoping for any answer. Anything he can give you to show you he's there, and slipping away from you.

Steve doesn't answer you, not verbally. Instead, he draws you in his arms, pulling you close until you're flush to his chest, and he keeps you there, his grip firm around you. He's still dirty, after insisting you showered first, and his bandages need changing, but none of that matters now.

What matters is that Steve is crying, holding you like a child holds their safety blanket, like you're gonna disappear at any moment. His shoulders shake with it, and the more he sobs, the harder he clings to you.

"It's all right, Steve. I'm here, you're here, we're gonna be okay. We're gonna be okay, I promise." You run your hands over his back, and up to his neck, stroking his hair — you're just as lost as he is, but he needs you right now. You're not letting him go.

For a moment, you thought about all the times you were in his place. The times when you cried and his arms were your fortress, protecting you from the world, your safe place in the form of a person. When you needed to hide and heal, he was always there. Steve never wavered, then. You weren't going to waver either.

"I should have been there. I should…," he sighs and sniffles at the same time, and your heart breaks a little more for the sweet boy in your arms, "I should have been with them. It's not fair, I could have done something. I should have done something."

There it was. The guilt. You felt it too, but you know Steve suffers the most with it.

"Stevie, honey, can you sit down? Please."

He's confused for a moment, but does It anyway. Sitting with his back to the end of the bathtub, he waits for you, and you follow him, straddling his hips, legs flexed on each side. You take his face in your hands, like one cradles something precious. "I know this is difficult for you to hear, but there was nothing you could have done. We did everything we could to save Max, and we almost did it. She still has a chance, and we both know that girl is a fighter. She's gonna be okay, we need to believe that."

Steve just nods, struggling to keep eye contact with you, but his hazel eyes never leave yours. Tears still fall down his cheeks, but he takes deep breaths, relenting his sobs little by little. "As for Eddie…," you continue, "Dustin is going to be okay too. He just needs time. He knows Eddie made his choice, and we need to make peace with it too."

"I just hate that he needs to go through that. I wish I could do it in his place."

You run your thumb over his cheek, wiping the last tears that stain his skin. "I know. We can't shelter them from grieving, though. God knows we've been there too."

His head falls to your shoulder, while his hands hold your waist in a soft grip, way softer than the way he was holding you earlier. "It's not fair."

"I know, honey. I know."

The water has long since gone cold. Later, you'll help Steve wash the blood and grime from his body. You will change his bandages, and he will thank you with sweet kisses and soft whispers. None of you will sleep, but you will dream.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fanfic

231 notes · View notes

unreliablesnake · 1 month

Text

Withdrawal (Dominique Luca x reader)

Summary: Weeks without sex make you grumpy and needy.

Note: Don't look at me, I was bored at work.

Warnings: MDNI. Mentions of fingering and pregnancy.

You were alone in the locker room at the end of your shift when Luca walked in. He flashed a smile at you before opening his locker and changing his shirt, a series of actions that was perfectly normal in this room. He took off the old one, then spent a good minute or two looking for a fresh one that was obviously right in front of him.

“I hate you,” you mumbled loud enough for him to hear you.

With a laugh, he walked over to where you were sitting, standing in front of you with his hands stuffed into his pockets. Just two colleagues talking, nothing unusual. “What have I done?” he asked innocently, his blue eyes fixed on you with that mischievous glint.

“Three weeks, Dom. Three.”

“You can’t be that desperate.” When you hooked your finger under his belt to pull him closer, your free hand pushing up his shirt so you could place soft kisses across his skin, he let out a laugh then gently grabbed your chin to make you look up at him. “You know the rule.”

“Come over tonight. Don’t make me beg,” you added with a small smile.

Luca crouched down in front of you and steadied himself by putting his hands on your knees. “I love it when you beg for something,” he pointed out, but when he saw the angry look you shot his way, he let out a sigh. “I’ll be there. Happy?”

And so in the evening you were wearing a set of lacy lingerie you had picked just for him, completed with the black dress he loved so much. If he still wanted to play his stupid game with you after seeing you in these, you would sure as hell break up with him, no matter how much you loved him. According to him, refusing to have sex with you for weeks was his way of teaching you patience, but if anything, it made you extremely frustrated, which happened to affect your work performance too.

Every time you snapped at someone from the team, Street made a joke about how you needed to get laid. And every time he said that, you wished you could have just strangled him on the spot. That goddamn handsome smile of Luca’s was only fuel to the fire too, and you wanted to yell at him right in front of everyone, telling him it was his fault you were so grumpy.

You didn’t know what took him so long, but despite the promise to be there by six, he was nowhere to be found around eight. You were planning to change into something more comfortable when you heard the key turn in the front door, which soon revealed your boyfriend whose face lit up at the sight of you. Without hesitation you rushed over to him, your arms immediately wrapped around his neck as you pulled his face down for a kiss.

“I love you too, baby, but we need to talk,” he said as he let you go and took a step back.

We need to talk. You never liked that sentence. Hell, nobody liked that sentence. Your smile disappeared without a trace before you bit on your lower lip and nodded, urging him to go on. Luca took your hand and led you to the couch, making you sit down in the middle before he sat on the coffee table in front of you. For a while he didn’t say a word, only toyed with the remote that he picked up after taking a seat.

But then he let out a sigh and reached into his pocket to pull out a small box of chewing gums. “This thing between us,” he began slowly with his eyes fixed on the plastic box, “it works, right? It’s not just me thinking we’re good together.”

A frown formed on your face upon his words for a moment. “Good is an understatement,” you offered with a smile as you reached out to envelope his calloused hand with your delicate fingers.

He let out a quiet chuckle before his gaze slowly turned to you. You tilted your head to the side as you studied his expression, having a hard time figuring out what this conversation was about. Was he about to break up with you? It didn't make sense, although the lack of sex in your relationship could point in that direction. Did he not love you anymore?

Before you could get lost in your spiraling thoughts, he squeezed your hand to get your attention, then handed you the plastic box he was holding. “Thanks, but I'm good,” you told him softly, but he shook his head and moved his hand a little to make you take it.

You took the box and opened the lid to get a chewing gum out of it. A part of you hoped this would finally make him talk, but you weren't ready to see what was inside. Because there was no chewing gum, there was only a ring in there. Your eyes widened as you looked over at him, and when he nodded with a smile, you took out the piece of jewelry.

“That's why I was late. I wasn't sure if I should ask you, if our relationship was at this stage already, but when I drove past this jewelry store, I felt the need to stop and take a look at the rings,” he explained.

There was a wide smile on his face that reached his eyes, showing how happy he was at this moment. You couldn't hide your own smile either, so while he struggled to finally pop the question, you looked down at the ring in your hand. It was white gold with a small stone in it; the perfect choice for you. Luca wasn't the type who would try to buy your love with expensive things, which was one of the things you loved about him.

“What do you say?” he asked you hesitantly.

You raised an eyebrow as you looked him in the eye. “You didn't ask me anything.”

He took the hint and within a second he was kneeling in front of you, nesting himself between your legs while he wrapped his fingers around your hand. “Will you marry me?” You nodded without thinking, and soon your head was pulled into a passionate kiss while his other hand moved up your thigh. “I’m lucky to have you,” he whispered against your lips.

When his finger pulled your panties aside, your breath caught in your throat, but when he pushed his finger between your folds, you couldn't bite back a loud moan and a string of sentences as you begged for more. He let out a quiet chuckle while he pushed you back on the couch and dived between your legs to place soft kisses along your inner thigh.

After weeks of withdrawal, it was so damn nice to have him touch you again, to feel his lips trailing across your skin. You were on cloud nine and you didn't even want to return to reality just yet. But the universe had other plans, because the alarm on your phones went off just when you got close to your climax.

“We gotta go,” Luca noted once he read the message.

Nodding, you straightened up on the couch. “You go ahead, I'll change into something more comfortable.”

But he only shook his head before he stood up and extended his hand to help you up. “I'll wait,” he said.

“They'll be suspicious if we arrive at the same time.”

“We just got engaged. They would find out sooner or later anyway.”

He was right. This wasn't how you wanted them to find out, but maybe not making a big deal out of it was the way to go. So you gave him a quick kiss then headed to the bedroom to find something casual to wear. You knew you were both in a hurry, but you couldn't stop yourself from staring at the ring with a wide grin on your face.

This man was the love of your life and there was nothing he could have done to get rid of you now. You were forever connected whether or not he wanted it. The question is, who's gonna be more surprised in the end. You after he proposed, or him when you finally told him you were pregnant.

#dominique luca x reader #dominique luca #swat cbs #swat

87 notes · View notes

thatgirlonstage · 9 months

Text

man the way Magnus entrusted his relic to Jack and June because they were good people with rustic hospitality and it turned an entire town into a place of betrayal and coups and distrust and finally an inescapably looping nightmare for years where death was perpetually an hour away and the way that the town was ultimately saved with kindness to animals through reuniting the purple worm with her children and the self-sacrifice of the town's self-appointed protector

and the way Merle's relic took love that had bloomed from rivalry and twisted it into a desperate need to prove oneself capable and better, to become unto a god, the way it drove Sloane to run away from everyone she cared about rather than reach out to them for help, and the way it was only stopped with peacemaking, with reaching back for her still when all hope seemed lost, with Hurley leaping headfirst into silverpoint knowing full well she would be killed but doing it because she cared about the person inside even at her worst, even when she was irredeemable, even when no one else would think to find anything human left in there at all

and the way Taako's relic was put to the use of science and exploration and used, for a while, successfully, but with too much greed, with too much selfishness, with too much focus on Maureen and Lucas's goals and too little trust of other people's word on how dangerous these relics are, the way it ultimately became the tool of a creature trying to claw its way back to the life and loved ones it knew and had lost, a creature that had long since lost its sense of self, that had merged with others just to survive, and the way familial love was necessary to stop it, the way Lucas got to his worst out of love of his mother and the desperation to do anything to get her back, the way he got brought back to his senses by that same love and the realization of how badly he'd failed her, the way he was still an untrustworthy dick at the end but they let him go anyway and he came back when it mattered

the way Lup's relic was locked away for a decade and ultimately uncovered and reactivated by Gundran's desperate desire to reclaim what once belonged to his family, the way it was not stopped, the way the loss of Phandalin haunts the narrative, a reminder of failure and of people the boys couldn't save

the way Davenport's relic gets caught up in a game of smoke and mirrors while on the harsh time limit of the end of a journey, the way part of Jenkins' ploy is that he seems utterly unthreatening, the way Hudson's death and the loss of his head in particular is practically collateral damage, the way the train could not be saved but this time the people were

the way Barry's relic is in the hands of two liches who are very obvious and intentional foils to him and Lup, but even more than that, the way it's so buried in the suffering of losing everything that makes you yourself, over and over and over and over and over, the way Wonderland is designed to make you eventually dependent on this cycle of loss just to stay alive, the way it's only beaten by changing the rules of the game

and of course the way Lucretia's relic stays glued to her side, the emblem and reason for her loneliness, isolating her in a bubble of her own making, until, of course, she lets her family back in, and as raw and painful a reunion as it is, as it has to be, because you can't stay safe from your mistakes forever, the seven of them together find the solution she could not find alone

#taz #taz: balance #i am drawing narrative parallels in the sand #some of these. particularly the later ones. are obviously intentional #but some of them definitely WEREN'T and yet they work so beautifully anyway #sometimes you don't know what story you're telling until you've finished it #and you look back and find it isn't all just loose threads trailing behind you #you have in fact woven them together even if you didn't realize it

192 notes · View notes

bartxnhood · 9 months

Text

complete mess | a.f.i

ashton irwin x reader

summary: based on this request

warnings: mentions of bad relationships, alcohol, some language.

requests open

not proofread

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

you stood alone, abandoned at the bar. lucas, your boyfriend, was nowhere to be seen. on the verge of tears, you began to feel very frustrated with his actions.

sure, you expected this from him, but on your birthday? did he not care about you at all? you looked over the sea of people, dancing, talking, drinking, and eating in an attempt to find your boyfriend but, nothing. your eyes landed on ashton, he saw the sadness in your eyes and knew.

this sadness has been lurking in your eyes for months now. no matter how badly you tried to hide it and put on a facade, ashton saw right through it.

you had become so insecure because of lucas, and ashton was tired of it. you deserved someone worth your time, you deserved someone who would look at you like you were the only thing good in this world. you deserved someone to treat you like you were the most delicate person on the face of the earth.

you deserved someone better.

he wished you wanted him.

to ashton, you were the best thing in his life. you had such a beautiful smile, the way you lit up as if he had done something stupid and you couldn’t help but laugh. you were the brightest star in the night sky. you made ashton a better person. and to see lucas belittle you, seeing you lose the light in your eyes, watching you slowly creep into a shell of made him angry. this wasn’t supposed to happen to you. not his y/n. not ashton best girl.

pushing past the crowd of people, peter was determined to be by your side. “y/n.” ashton emerged,. “ash” you sighed, feeling weight being lifted from your shoulders. “he left me.” you finally blurted, you felt a pang in your chest knowing tears would soon follow. ashton wrapped his arms around you, letting your head rest on his chest. “i know” he sighed, rubbing your back gingerly. “ash, your shirt” you huffed, looking up at him. afraid of ruining it with your makeup. “shh it’s fine” he shook his head, wiping away your tears with his callused thumb. he held you for a minute, but it felt like forever to you. “cmon, im taking you home.” he suggested, pulling away and reaching for your hand. “you don’t need to be here.” you nodded, following behind him and out the large doors.

exiting the building, ashton’s touch never left the small of your back. “he had no right to do that to you, y/n/n” he huffed. you knew he was upset, and so were you. thinking you could get over your feelings for ashton but you only got hurt in return.

oh, foolish heart.

you had been swooning after ashton since high school. always liked him from a distance, even if the two of you were the best of friends.

you weren’t good with confrontation, let alone rejection. because what if he rejected you? how could the two of you possibly stay friends after something like that?

but when you had got with lucas just a few years out of high school, ashton was the first to tell you his feelings.

even if it was a little too late.

“i can’t believe he would be that stupid to leave you alone. if i see him, i’m gonna-“ you were quick to grab his hand, cutting him off. “ash. don’t. just relax.”

ashton had accepted that lucas was your boyfriend but he’d still do everything he could to be in your life, as long as you were happy, he was happy. but seeing you so broken, and being used. he couldn’t let it continue.

“promise me something, y/n?” your eyes met with his. both of you stopping in your tracks. “end it with him. you don’t need someone like that in your life.”

“i will.”

ashton had suggested he take you back to his place, to avoid seeing lucas when he came back later that evening.

you sat on the edge of ashtons bed, still in your dress while ashton had gotten you some water and advil to help with your growing headache. your eyes stared out the window, the night illuminated by only the stars. “i brought you some extra clothes, in case you wanted to change.” he entered the room, some folded clothes in hand, and laid them next to you. your eyes followed him, “thank you.” he nodded, “it’s no problem” he shot you a sympathetic smile and handed you the medicine and bottle.

“you’re always saving me, ash. thank you” you sniffled as you took the two painkillers and downed them with a swig of water.

ashton only hummed, watching you take the clothes in hand and making your way to the bathroom.

and when you returned, ashton had changed as well. you tossed the blaxl dress on the floor and went back to ashton’s bed.

“feel better?” he looked up at you, only getting a shrug from you. “can you help me take my hair down? there’s a lot of pins” he patted the spot in front of him which you scooted over and he proceeded to pick the pins out of your hair. “you know” ashton started, “lucas has no idea what he’s missing out on.” you simply shrugged, you couldn’t stomach talking about him again.

“i don’t know what i was thinking, i thought i could get my mind off someone else, but i only got hurt worse. i’m so stupid” a dry laugh escapes your lips. ashton paused, now knowing why you had started dating lucas. but his shoulders dropped knowing you probably liked someone else. “stop. stop blaming yourself.” he hummed.

his scratchy voice sending chills down your spine. you only let your shoulders drop. looking down at your hands. soon enough he had gotten a majority of the pins out. and with that, you finally let your hair down letting up the stress on the scalp.

ashton got a whiff of the scent of your shampoo and he couldn’t help but look away. you still haven’t changed it all these years. that familiar floral smell filled his nostrils. it was still the same kind you used in high school, he wishes he could smell forever.

it was obvious you liked someone else. you discarded the hairpins, and sat next to ashton again. “if it wasn’t for you, i’d be so lost. i’m so glad you came into my life” you smiled sadly, and he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “you’ll always have me in your corner. id do anything for you, you know that.” you nodded. you did know, hell, if you didn’t have him you’d still be miserable. he was always there for you. no matter what.

you were now curled up on ashtons chest, your eyes still glued to the window. not saying anything, you thought he had fallen asleep by now. but when you looked up at him, he was looking down at you. “i thought you were asleep.” he laughed, a simple shake of his head. you smiled, the dim light of his lamp made his skin look so beautiful, the way his hair lay in his eyes, and how he looked at you. you could stare at him for ages.

you felt your heart beating, feeling as if it would beat out of your chest. you wondered if this was the moment you’d tell ashton how you felt for the past decade.

“what’s on your mind?” he asks softly, you hum. thinking if this was the right moment and if the words that were about to spill from your lips were a good idea. your eyes flicked from his hazel eyes to your fingers, picking at your cuticles.

“do you remember a while back when you confessed to me and i had just gotten with lucas?” you ask. when you look up you see him studying you. he nods slowly, “yeah?”.

you puff your cheeks then release the air, sighing. “i liked you too at the time, and i still..well..i love you. i was with lucas simply because i thought you didn’t like me like that..” you groaned quietly, realizing how stupid it sounded.

you saw his face contort, trying to process your words. you can’t seem to read his expression. he falls silent for a moment, replaying his confession over and over again. it was all making sense.

“ash?” you say, hoping he wouldn’t be so upset with you. “i wish you would’ve told me sooner..” he says, followed by a sigh. you frown, assuming you have missed your opportunity with your best friend.

“but..” he continued, “i still love you, y/n. i have since we were teenagers. i don’t think id ever be able to get over you. you have me wrapped around your finger and i’d do anything for you.”

you feel your heart racing, your cheeks flushed pink, and you feel like you were back in high school.

“ashton, will you kiss me?”

the brown-haired boy stared at you, hazel eyes wide. his lips parted, “did you just ask if i’d-“ “kiss me” you interrupted him. this time begging him. “please” you whispered. ashton sat up, his eyes not leaving yours once as he brought his hand to your cheek and then pressed his lips on yours ever so lightly. afraid he would hurt you in any way. his lips felt so soft against yours. pure bliss engulfed your body. this was what you imagined your kiss with ashton to be like. when he pulled away, eyes meeting with yours his cheeks were flushed. having such a huge crush on you, he never thought he would have this moment with you.

your hands on his neck, you leaned in again connecting your lips. this time this kiss was longer and more intimate. your hands tangled in his brown curls while he was resting on your lower back, occasionally pulling you in. when you pulled away, catching your breath you couldn’t help but stare at him. his hand ran over your waist, playing with the hem of your shirt as the two of you watched the other, breathing each other in. ashton’s smiles, his calloused thumb tracing your cheekbone. “you make me complete, y/n.”

maybe this birthday wasn’t so bad after all.

#ashton irwin fanfic #ashton irwin #ashton irwin angst #ashton 5sos #ashton 5 seconds of summer #ashton irwin x y/n #ashton irwin x reader #ashton irwin fluff #ashton irwin blurb #ashton irwin imagine #5sos fan fiction #5sos fanfic #5sos fan fic #5sos imagine #5sos smut #5sos

193 notes · View notes

writersundersiege · 4 months

Text

The New Girl In Town Pt. 4

Rafe Cameron x F! Reader

Summary: Rafe gets a surprise visit from someone special who invites him to come to spend time hunkered down for the hurricane; what happens when things don’t go as planned? What will Rafe do when he can’t seem to get to you?

To read any other parts of this series, click here:

The New Girl in Town - Masterlist

MDNI 18+

Warnings: Grief, drug use, swearing, the insinuation of sexual themes

a/n: this is mostly fluff and some more character development; I promise you there is a significant Rafe x Reader chapter coming up if you know you know :) Things are going to start getting mixed up. I hope you guys enjoy it; please feel free to comment or send any requests, etc.

————————————————————————

The evening went as planned on the account you had planned the event. Rafe wasn’t going to allow any mishaps simply for you. Other than Rafe and Ethan evil-eyeing each other the entire evening without speaking to each other. Jason stood between them, with Ally next to Ethan, and to Jason’s right was Kiara and Kayla; on the other side of them, Rafe stood handing out shirts to boys and girls with their parents. Rafe and Jason paid no mind to the kid, who was trying to pull the conversation and attention to him to no avail; he only attracted Sarah and Topper's attention. By the end of the evening, and when the clothes were almost all gone, Jason gathered what was left to bring back to the country club donations box. The group sounded small goodbyes and separated from each other to the cars they drove in.

Halfway to the jeep, Jason asks Rafe a weird question for someone you’ve barely known: “What is it about my sister, man?” Rafe's head perked up at this question, looking at him, wide eyes shaking his head. “I don’t know what you mean…” Jason looked down, flipping the keys around his fingers till he reached the car trunk. “I was trying so hard to tune Ethan out, but one thing he said while we worked out there that track it was that no matter where (F/N) went back home or around the world, guys chase her; they always want her affection and attention, they expect so much of my sister, and she expects nothing in return, same with girls; girls think so little or think so much of her I can’t imagine how she doesn’t feel like a butterfly behind a glass” he looks down into the box of jeans “My sister is worth so much more then what all these people want from her and the worst part is-“ Jason looks up at Rafe water welled eyes “I don’t know if she’ll ever stop chasing the wave Luca rides, with him she looked his way and never looked back.”

Rafe looks at Jason and doesn’t know what to say to this level of emotion, but he says the only thing he thinks will click; he hopes he doesn’t come off as an ingenue. “She’s still young; eventually, she’ll know. We all ride our waves of life, and I think she knows that more than you give her credit for.” Jason nods, the brightness seeping back into the boy across from him.

As they hop into the car and Jason starts to drive them back to the country club, he says to try and lighten the mood more, “So strike out at all?” Jason chuckles with a devilish smirk, shaking his head in triumph. “two snap chats added and the one Ally she already asked when I’ll be back again from college.” Rafe laughs, knowing he’s about to play the run around with two kooks.

Jason drops Rafe by his bike, and Rafe quickly heads back home for the first time. Rafe is exhausted from social interaction with others as well; on top of that, community service was not standardized practice for Rafe, so the nice guy act drained him. As soon as he enters his front door, Ward is rounding the corner at him, already jumping his case. “Where were you? I told you that we needed to place sandbags, and you need to set up generators; there is supposed to be a hurricane tomorrow evening.”

Rafe quickly satiates his father's anger by saying, “I was helping with the clothing drive at the country club; it’ll be done tomorrow morning.” Ward looked pleased but turned back towards the kitchen, saying nothing but, “Don’t forget Rafe, I'm serious, or we’ll be as good as none on power tomorrow.” He’s rolling his eyes behind his dad's back, heading up the stairs, and it slowly hits him

Rafe's heart dropped, remembering you asked him to surf with you tomorrow; indeed, you had to know that was happening; it’s been all over the local news. Most of the beach will be dead, but there will be people preparing for flooding near there; he makes it to his room and throws himself on his bed, thinking maybe you didn’t want actually to hang out, and you were just the giving the type of person your brother described you as. It was just for pity, he thought to himself, a conversation filler.

Rafe removes all those thoughts from his head and hops in the shower, washing his body and hair quickly before jumping out and drying off, throwing on some pajama pants, and hopping into bed. Rafe turned on some alarms and laid down and closed his eyes, ready to sleep, and he heard a ping on his phone; he groaned and leaned over to grab it, opening his eyes to see you had messaged him

F/N🌊💕: You said Tannyhill anytime, right?

Rafe's eyes went wide, wondering and trying to formulate any reason you would be texting him this at nearly 11:45 pm the night before you; one was supposed to be sick, two were supposed to hang out later, and three had not formally had a sit-down conversation, but Rafe doesn’t think twice sending you his location and replying

Rafe: Anytime Angel

You immediately responded with a picture of the front of Tannyhill, which makes Rafe sit up in his bed pin straight, and jump out of bed like the sheets were on fire; he threw on a shirt and bounded down the stairs, not caring if anyone woke up he threw open the front door and there you were just like the first time he saw you except albeit a little paler

You waved at him and started walking towards stopping just at the edge of the front patio stairs quietly and shyly, saying, “Hello, Rafe, this is quite a magnificent house you have here.” He chuckles at you, thinking it’s so admirable not only the words you choose but that you are as shy as you are around when he feels like he’s known you forever. He leans in the door frame, looking down at you like he was looking out at the stars earlier that night in the car window. “ It’s alright, it’s home for now.”

This comment makes you look down, twisting your shoe in the dirt and looking at your hand clasped before you. Rafe doesn’t talk; he stands and watches; you almost seem to run a marathon of thoughts through your head before you finally say, “ So I’m technically supposed to be on best rest; they think I have the flu, but I'm not sure” You’re still looking down at your feet “So I realized last minute my idea is shit and I mean there is the storm and my family we do these things we’re like—-“ she cuts herself off again huffing in annoyance.

Rafe chuckles and takes a step closer on the porch, not close enough to touch her but enough that he can make out every single little mark and crease on your face when your face frowns; he smiles and says, “Did you come up with a better idea, angel, because I said tell me where and I’ll be there.” it seems like this sentence gave you confidence “come to my house tomorrow my family does what we call a storm watch and id love to have dad will take you home and pick up no trouble or you can hang with josh, either way, I want you there if you want to be?”

You immediately look at your feet again. Rafe grins from ear to ear, saying, “Sound good,” and your head shoots up. “Um, great, so come over tomorrow around three; let me know if you need Dad to come get you.” With that, Rafe watches as you scurry halfway back to your car before he sees your back turn and your bright, smiling face bounding towards him.

Once you finally make it to where you stood, just a moment before you hurry up the steps right in front of Rafe, throwing your arms around his neck in a hug, he slowly wraps his arms around your petite frame, scared that he touches you too hard right now, you may dissolve into dust. You nuzzle your head into his shoulder, almost whispering, “Thank you for being there this time, Rafe. I needed it.” Rafe smiles down at you in his arms, shaking his head. “You never need to thank me (F/N); you call me there.” You smile, nestling yourself further into Rafe; he wraps his arms tighter around you.

Finally, after what felt like only a sliver of a moment for Rafe, you pulled away and reached up on your tiptoes, placing a soft kiss on the apple of his cheek, immediately making Rafe's neck burn red hot. You smiled shyly, which this time made Rafe shake. Knowing you, of all people, the girl the whole island knew in less than a week as the bubbly Cali girl who is highly wanted by many, not just Kooks, but you have people back home who won’t let you go, and you are nervous around Rafe; the town no good, heartbreaking, psycho, and you’re shy. Are you scared of him? Have you heard around town what people say?

All of these thoughts were wiped from Rafe's mind when you looked up at him with the same wide eyes and bright look he saw on your face the day at Toppers' house when you moved in; you looked at him like he was a giant wave on the coastline coming in and you’re ready for the colliding of the two trying to decide; will you ride the wave or will it wipe you out and drag you down throwing you back and forth while you try and claw back to the surface.

You clear your throat and say, “See you tomorrow, Reef. Sleep well.” Rafe chuckles at the nickname you’ve called him twice; he hates to admit it’s clever, and he thinks he likes it when you say but only cause it fits you; he says, “Yeah, see you tomorrow.” Watching as you jog back over to your Blue Jeep when Rafe squints his eyes slightly past the glow from lights in Tannyhill, he sees a figure sitting in the passenger taking a few steps on the porch, watching you as you climb in and the person points at Rafe you close the door quickly and put your hands up like you’re approaching a wounded animal. The person seems to calm by whatever you say to them, and the face turns back to Rafe, and he can see the curls and scowl that he memorized the other night.

Ethan is sitting in the front seat, face turned to him, but he traces your figure with your hand on his cheek, similar to how your mom reacted to Rafe at the country club. The boy in the car looks back at you, shaking his head and smiling, turning his face to try and kiss your palm. Still, you quickly remove it and ruffle his hair, saying something to make him smile at you, then you turn on the car and look up, and that’s when Rafe waves not at him but only at you; you smile and wave quickly and reverse out of the drive of Tannyhill making your way towards town instead of back to your house.

Rafe stands a moment, thinking of following you; what he knows about Ethan is unnerving, but he knows the kid is leaving soon, so he wants to hope that if something is wrong, Jason will tell him, or maybe you would. You’re also stronger now than back then; with that, he turns back into the house with your Jeep nowhere in his view.

On Rafe's way up the stairs, he heard Ward yell, “Be more mindful of people sleeping; you woke up Rose with all the running on the stairs.” This makes the boy roll his eyes and close his door, throwing himself back in bed and staring at the ceiling, thinking about you and your adventures and the mystery that seems to be you.

Rafe didn’t sleep any that night; he stayed up trying to see if maybe your brother or you would message him, and he didn’t receive anything until 8 o’clock the following day, and it was from you.

(F/N)🌊💕: Don’t Forget Today! 3 pm; let me know if you need a ride; it’s pretty windy already, and we’ll be storm prepping at The Hut and Wreck! Let me know

Rafe 🪸: Yeah, that’s fine. I wouldn’t mind riding with your dad; keep my bike out of the water. I’ll see you at three; I have to storm prep here; see you soon, angel ❤️

Rafe lays his phone down with alarms set for two just in case, closing his eyes and finally sleeping for the first time in nearly a whole day, knowing that you’re okay and things are set for today.

By two o’clock that day, Rafe was waking up from the alarm he set to get ready; this had him yanking himself from bed and dragging himself to the shower. He turns on the shower, lets the water get hot, and gets in washing his body to wake himself up, enabling the water to run down his chest and back; he stands there for about 15 to 25 minutes till the water starts losing heat. He turns off the shower, throws a towel around himself, and heads to his closet; as soon as he’s finished putting on a pair of sweatpants and a softer t-shirt, he heads to his room, grabbing his other essentials when he hears someone clear their throat behind them.

Sarah stands leaning on the door, a devilish smirk on her face, staring back at Rafe, eyebrow raised in question. “First thing I want to say is you’re pathetic. The only reason you were oh-so-helpful last night is cause you want that girl. What happened to the, and I quote it, playing a dumb philanthropist act, which leads to the second thing I want to say is, you know she’s too good for you, right?” This makes Rafe so annoyed. Sarah constantly demeans Rafe; he walks over, saying, “Shut the fuck up, Sarah, at least I don’t play nice when I’m not; people know how I am; that is no secret, but who are you really behind the surface Sarah.” he says pointing to her and slightly nudging her out of his door frame as he grabs the handle “And for your information I went yesterday for her, and I know she’s too good for me, but maybe I’m exactly what she needs.” That being said, Rafe closes the door on Sarah’s face, locks the door, finishes fixing his hair, and prepares to leave.

Suddenly, his phone is buzzing, and it’s another Unknown number; he assumes it is your dad; he quickly answers, saying, “Rafe Cameron speaking?” he hears your dads chuckling through the phone. “I’m in front of your giant white house, as my daughter described it.”

Rafe looks out the window and sees your dad's happy face sticking out the side of the car. Rafe runs down the stairs and out the front door of Tannyhill, running to the side of a gorgeously renovated 1965 Chevy Impala; your dad was stepping out of the driver's side. “Rafe, hello, nice to see you again, my boy,” he pats Rafe on the back while shaking his hand. Rafe replies with a smile. “Always good to see you, sir, and this is a beautiful car you have here.” pointing to the car behind them, your dad started to smile from ear to ear.

Charlie runs his hand on the hood and looks at Rafe. “This was the car that we kept at Lenny’s house; that was Luca's dad; his parents moved here after everything Lenny, me, and all the boys renovated; this beauty was meant to be for the boys to share; it'll be Jason’s one day” your dad looks longingly at the car “I’m sorry sir I didn’t mean—“ your dad puts his hand up “no it’s all happy memories my boy, here” your dad tosses the keys in the air which Rafe catches like a crystalline glass that was about to shatter they key landing gently in his palm “you drive,” your dad says with a smirk.

Rafe's eyes go wide immediately, looking back and forth between your dad and the keys. “a-are you sure, sir?” your dad laughs a deep, hardy laugh, shaking his head, saying once again, “Rafe call me Charlie and of course my boy you were the first one to show my sweet, sweet girl the kindness here so this is the kindness I will show you to enjoy the drive, and I will sit back and enjoy the ride.”

Before Rafe can say anything else, your dad walks around and climbs into the passenger seat with his arm out the window, ready for the ride, just like he said.

Rafe scurries around to the other side and hops in the driver's seat, gently turning on the car and starting to reverse down the drive. Once on the road, Rafe was going exactly the speed limit using his blinkers, trying to drive as safely as possible. All of sudden, your dad mock yawns and says, “C’mon Rafe, where’s all this fire I hear about? You seem a prolonged driver here.” he bumps him in the shoulder with a smile that makes Rafe smile back cause he can tell he’s trying to get him to let loose he chuckles a little and says “would you like me to drive as I would normally Charlie?” your dad looks forward relaxing back like he’s in a tanning chair “Whatever floats your goat there Rafe and maybe whatever will get us to the wife’s three-layer queso quicker” the man in the passenger seat looks up humming in delight thinking about his wife’s cooking.

Rafe laughs and proceeds to press the gas a little quicker and drive like he would just by himself; he thinks about how smooth the acceleration is and how the turns are quick and easy to take. Before he knows it, he sees Topper’s balconies and basketball hoop, and all of a sudden, he sees your blue two-story house with an indoor wrap-around porch. He pulls into the driveway and sees your Jeep; he parks behind it and turns the ignition off.

Rafe and your dad hop out, and your dad starts heading to the garage door, waving Rafe his way. “C’mom, the girls have been making snacks all day for annual storm watch, and let me tell you (F/N) makes some mean homemade granola bars; you’ll just have to see them and the queso, oh the queso always the queso,” your dad cries out at the end.

By this point, they're in the kitchen, Rafe trailing behind Charlie, heading straight to a crockpot. Rafe stops at the end of the island to see tons of snacks: dried fruit, a stack of, like your dad said, homemade granola bars that looked like they had nuts, tiny little chocolate chips, and what looked like some kettle chips and popcorn that were yet to be opened.

Your mom came around the corner almost to appear from thin air, scolding your dad, “Charlie, that is not for you. I'm dropping that off at the school tonight for families staying in shelter from the storms.” Charlie leans against the counter with a smile, eating out of the small bowl he made; your mom rolls her eyes with a smile, pointing at him. “No more.”

Her eyes scan the kitchen, catching a glimpse of Rafe. “Rafe, oh hello,” she rushes over, patting him like he was her child and checking if he had any afflictions with someone since the last time she saw him, finally resting her hand on his cheek, smiling at him, looking at him “We are so happy you came to spend time with us,” he smiles back before he can say anything your mom is turning and waking to the stairs calling up to you “(F/N) Rafes here” all of a sudden they all here scuffling from upstairs like someone was running.

Then, after a few moments of waiting and nothing happened, she called again, “Jason, (F/N) Rafes here.” There was no response, and then they heard the thumping and bumping of feet down the stairs, but multiple sets of footsteps down the stairs as faces emerged instead of bubbling with happiness; you looked wholly petrified. Still perfect, but scared like you’ve seen a ghost, following not far behind you is Jason with an ear to the phone, words scrambling to the person on the other side. “don’t worry, we’ll be there in no time. Try to keep her calm. “ he hands the phone back to you, and you start to hyperventilate slightly, which causes Rafe to take a step towards you; your mother puts her hand on his shoulder to stop him because your brothers are already there his hands rubbing your shoulders and consoling you, Rafe hears you say in a small voice, “Just let her know I love her, and I’ll be there soon.” you hand the phone back to your brother and look up at your dad

“Lenny just called,” you said in a small voice; they almost couldn’t hear you over waves starting to crash behind your house; they were getting more prominent as the storm grew. “Diannas at the pier. She won’t leave. She says she swears she saw them..in the waves. We have to take her home before the storm gets bigger. “

You’re looking down at your shoes, strolling towards the door, and looking back to where Rafe is standing in the kitchen. “I’m so sorry, Rafe, I have to go, “before he knew it, the look shattered his heart and made his bones cold like you were in danger of something; he frowned, watching your back. You jog out the door, and Jason trailed behind you quickly.

Andrea and Charlie stand dumbfounded momentarily in the kitchen, staring at Rafe, who looks angry at what happened. Before anybody can say anything, Rafe tells your parents, “I just forgot I have somewhere to be. I’ll see you guys later.” Your parents try to stop him, but he is out and over into Topper's house quicker than they can catch him; your mom stands watching him go in Topper's garage door before turning around and returning inside.

Rafe only stays at Toppers long enough to sit on his bed. At the same time, he plays some game on his PlayStation while Rafe sits and waits for an Uber back to Tannyhill; when he eventually arrives home, first he quickly runs upstairs and checks his dad isn’t home and grabs some of the little bit of cash left from the generators, he quickly grabs his bike and heads straight to Barry’s house to get a fix.

If anything can ruin his day, it is the fact that he always seems to have you right in front of him, and just like a bird set out for a migration flight, you were gone before anyone noticed you were there. It doesn’t matter what he does; he feels as though he can’t get close to you, and when he does, something else seems to come in the way, like when you’re trying to climb a tall rock wall, and you’re right at the top. The second you make it there, your arms give out because of how far you’ve come; he doesn’t want to give up and let his arms weigh him down. He wants you so bad that it nearly kills him.

Pulling up to Barry’s house, he bangs on the trailer door, hitting it hard. It shakes the door frame until Barry swings the door open, saying, “What the fuck, Country Clu—“Looking up, seeing rich boy Rafe with eyes red-rimmed, hair messy, and slightly wet from the drizzle that started. He looks him up and down, looking at how disheveled he looks, and says, “What do you need, bro?”

Rafe looks at him and grunts in a lowly voice that seems like he’s been screaming at a concert, gruff and almost gone. “Same as usual.” Barry leaves the door open and runs back, grabbing a baggie with a few grams and taking it back. “Here it’s going to be—“ Rafe puts the cash in his hand, taking the baggie, not listening to anything, heading straight home.

When Rafe got home, he spent the rest of the night listening to music and getting nigh watching as the storm raged on until he got a message from Emma, a girl he was hooking up with in the fall, who said she was at her friend Ambers who happened to live next to Tannyhill and asked if he wanted her to hang out a bit he typed sure and in less then an hour Rafe laid with a girl halfway on top of him kissing his next. At the same time, he stares at the ceiling, thinking about how wrong today went to what he planned.

By the following day, Emma was gone as Rafe asked her to be when he woke up; it was the arrangement: they sleep with him, and they leave before he’s awake; when he checked his phone, he saw a message from you that made him forget anything that happened yesterday.

(F/N)🌊💕: I am sorry I ran out on you; Mom said she wanted to ask you to stay for dinner, and when we returned with Dianna and Lenny, they said you had to go. I hope I didn’t disappoint you and also, Sarah invited me to the Kegger at the boneyard tonight. Hopefully, I’ll see you there?!

As he sat and thought, he decided it would be best to play the chase with you; if he can’t get a chance to be near you, maybe he can get you to seek him out on your own like the other night.

Rafe 🪸: Wish I could, angel. I have things I need to do tonight. I’ll see you soon, I promise 😉

Guilt slowly starts to bubble within Rafe; he should have never hooked up with Emma; you could hear about it, but at this point, he has to play the complex game; he needs you to notice him and want him. All of these thoughts die down when he receives a message with a picture of you smiling from ear to ear, holding your hand up in the shaka hand gesture, and Jason standing behind the same bright smile as you, doing the same thing with a message saying

(F/N)🌊💕: Good, the (L/N) family is holding you to it. Be safe, and see you soon, Reef 🪸🫡❤️

Rafe smiles at the picture in front of him, looking at how happy you look and just yearning to feel your joy and encase himself in the brightness you seem to emit.

————————————————————————

All rights belong to the owners of Netflix and the Outer Banks. I do not own any characters except OC characters. The fiction is simply for fun. All copyrights belong to the original owners.

#obx fic #rafe cameron #rafe fanfiction #rafe imagine #rafe x reader #rafe x you #x reader #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #outerbanks rafe #rafe fic #outer banks #mine #fanfic #imagine #x you #x y/n

67 notes · View notes

siriuslydeadfr · 5 months

Text

The thing about Luca is that. And I say this as a writer, I suppose, but also as a queer person, that he exudes a certain feeling of safety, and comfort. Like, to have him play something will mean he's going to give you his everything. No matter the character, you'll see a sincerity that isn't just the product of the script, or the demand of it, but also the mind of the actor.

To know that a person of his calibre is out there playing queer characters so effortlessly, and without a doubt in their mind, without any prejudice blinding his artistic choices and who he is as a person, it's obviously a ray of hope, but it is also, then, a kind of trust, even if it is just parasocial in many ways.

I know if it's Luca playing a certain queer character - regardless of what happens to them in the script, that is if the script is stupid and insincere to the queer perspective in certain ways - I'd still easily trust him to do justice to the queer experience, for how sincerely he plays everything.

The whole every-character-of-his having a underlying homoerotic quality to them is all fun and cool and great and beautiful, but also, it's so fucking refreshing

It's been decades of asking for the correct representation in media, it's been years and years of queerbaiting and, if not that, just general lack of care

I've been accustomed to just wanting some of my favourite characters to be gay. Just thinking and wishing and hoping that someone someday will let them reach the full scope of their personality, let them have the right sort of ending, see first the fabric of their person, and not just the thread of their sexuality, and maybe then write the script. There have been all sorts of emotions, and so to find now a person who is doing just that? It's pure beauty.

For a while now it's been changing, more and more shows and films are becoming inclusive and accepting and understanding of the queer gaze, and it's so beautiful that Luca contributes to it with his whole heart, and has been for a long while.

Many must remember how it used to get with artists and makers always denying or trying to tip toe around the obvious queerbait, or shying away from the conversations that involved that queer perspective, or outright rejecting the very idea- it happens still - but then you see the likes of Luca and Marwan being comfortable in each other's company and also about the love they shared on screen (especially, i think, it begs to say, with them being men), talking happily about their characters, making playlists for them, recommending poems for them

A lot many actors now are open to these conversations, a lot of them now talk about it with nuance and care, with just the right words, and though it's in no way any less a contribution to the conversation, or any less genuine, but again, there is something to be said about the ease Luca shows.

Again, as I said before.. it feels safe, with him.

In a lot of his interviews, he doesn't bat an eye before saying things like - I was lucky to have him as my husband. And he means it, you can tell that by the smile on his face. When people are focusing on the movies' objective and the friendships in it, he easily goes and says it's not only the friendship, but also the love.

In another of his interviews, there was once this question about Roberta, about if he knew what was demanded from him and how he prepared for a transsexual character. I remember it because I was almost sure I'll be hearing some generic answer like I studied trans people for this role and this that blah blah, something ignorant, basically. I was braced for it. But he just said. (And he was talking in english, and all that he was trying to say was conveyed more through his face and gestures, it was super cute actually) - I read the script, and I just felt something. I didn't think about playing a transsexual, but a woman, with a friend. It was important for me to show the love she had for him. So. I just played a woman helping out a friend :)

And I was like ?? wait that's? That's all? You're not going to go deep into the character's psyche and the great moral upstanding you must be feeling for doing a role like this? You're not going to talk about how you "prepared" for this role or how it was "different" for you?

I was so used to people doing that, his simple answer took me by surprise.

and that's what's so refreshing, so comforting.

There's no hesitation in him, no prejudice or preconceived notions or activism, even, compelling his choices and words.

It's just him, plain and simple.

He's committed to his art in a way that people rarely are. Especially in media, where even big companies and huge hollywood stars often fail you.

I wish more people in this world were like him. So gently open in his ways, so effortless in his understanding and acceptance that it becomes intrinsic to him.

He's one of the few people, I would say, who are an artist not just by work, but also by nature.

#luca marinelli #the old guard #le otto montagne #l'ultimo terrestre #writing #he's so?? sweet and beautiful #he's someone I want to sit and have a conversation with. the other person who i want to do this with is #andrew garfield

66 notes · View notes

cheeseyberg · 10 months

Text

Eddie's POV

Part 5 Part 4 Part 3 Part 2 Part 1

Max is still laughing to herself as Eddie pulls himself together and climbs in the van. Was he hallucinating, had he dropped acid that morning and forgotten? Maybe there really was some kind of gas leak in Hawkins? Maybe like a reverse Vecna situation where he's seeing the opposite of his worst memories?

"OW, what the hell?!" Eddie yells and slams himself back against the driver's side door to get away from Max, who is already reaching out to pinch him a second time.

"You're babbling about Vecna and gas leaks, figured you needed someone to pinch you." Max shrugs like her go to answer isn't always physical violence and chaos. "You're not hallucinating or dreaming, I too witnessed Mama Steve confirming your date."

"Ew, don't call him that." Eddie pulls the van out of the parking lot and points it towards home. "Seriously though, what just happened? I started this day with a very specific plan to find out if Steve and Nancy were back together," Eddie gives Max just a little side-eye when she snorts at this. "-and the next thing I register he's confirming a date. Did I black out and ask him on a date? Did he ask me on a date? I don't even remember who suggested it."

"We're all seriously underestimating that man," Max mutters under her breath. "Does it matter, isn't this what the end goal was anyway? You have a date that will hopefully put a stop to your stupidly embarrassing crush on Steve Harrington."

Indignant as ever Eddie jerks the wheel to the right, narrowly avoiding the curb and then rights the van. "How do you know about that?! I'm very subtle! And you're one to talk, don't think I haven't heard Dustin teasing Lucas about you ogling Steve's chest hair when we were out on Lover's Lake. You're basically a peeping tom!"

"This isn't about me. Your crush on Steve is more obvious than Will's pining after Mike," now it's Max's turn to side-eye the scoff that comes at this. "-and you somehow enlisted the most obvious member of the group to help you. Seriously, I love Robin but she has no subtlety. You should have seen her floundering in there. Steve sussed her out immediately. You're lucky I was there to help wingman you."

"Oh is that what we're calling meddling now?"

"You got a date, didn't you?? Some thanks would be nice."

Eddie pulls the van into his spot in front of the trailer and thunks his head against the steering wheel, "oh my god, I have a date with Steve Harrington, King Steve, monster slayer Steve, Steve 'the hair' Harrington…"

"And he has a date with Eddie 'the freak' Munson. So, are you going to live up to that particular name or are you going to get your shit together and woo him?"

"How am I supposed to do that? He was the lady killer in high school, all the girls, and not a few guys, wanted to date him. What do I know about wooing a guy like that?"

Max opens her door and hops out, "Come on Munson, you're overthinking this. Come inside and we'll figure it out."

Eddie climbs out of the van and grabs a discarded notebook from the back before following Max into her trailer. Max grabs two sodas from the fridge and sets one down in front of Eddie, where he has settled on the couch before she sinks down on the opposite end.

"I'm serious when I say you're overthinking it. You know Steve. Not King Steve, not Steve 'the hair' Harrington, just normal dorky, mother hen Steve. You've been hanging out for months, you know him well enough to have a crush on him so this should be easy. You know what he likes, what he doesn't, what annoys him."

"Until an hour ago I was sure that Nancy Wheeler was what he liked."

"Yea sure, but you only thought that for what, 12 hours. Did you think it before you saw them hugging yesterday?"

"No," Eddie admits softly. "I had started to suspect he might like me actually, that's why I was so surprised to see it."

"So, what else do you know he likes, use what you know. He's just Steve, he's very forgiving even if you don't get it right."

"Don't tell Dustin, but you might be the smartest kiddo. Thanks Red." Eddie gives her a small smile and visibly relaxes. She's right of course. He does know Steve; knows he likes the kids and knows he likes to pretend he doesn't. Knows he loves watching them act like kids because he thinks they have had to grow up too fast. Knows his friendships are so important to him because he's not used to people liking who he really is and sticking around. Steve like consistency, he likes predictability, and he likes Eddie. So yes, Eddie can work with that and as he remembers all the things he knows about Steve he truly relaxes because he knows Steve wouldn't like anything too big or over the top. Now he's got real plans to make.

He gets up to head out to his home across the way and is halfway towards the door when Max calls after him, "Hey can you toss me the walkie by the door?"

He grabs it and tosses it so it lands on the cushion next to her leg. "Thanks Eddie, good luck. Don't go overboard, it's just Steve."

"I won't, thanks again Max, that was surprisingly helpful advice, for a peeping tom and a meddler." He laughs as he swings the door shut but can hear her steps running from the couch to the door. He's about to jump down to run away from her when he hears the lock turn in the door and then the static of the walkie as max yells into it, "Dustin! You'll never guess what Eddie just said about you!!"

@charliechaplintheawesome @flwerkitty @dbquills @zerokrox-blog @bidisastersworld @respect-snails @estrellami-1 @4nemo1egend @archermightbegay @blackpanzy @fictionalenigma @practicallybegging @anaibis @starman-jpg @thesuninyaface @messrs-weasley @hallucinatedjosten @ronance-is-my-wife

#max continues to be a meddling little shit and i love that for her #of course she was always going to tell dustin #the date will be the nxt part #eddie pov #steve harrington #steddie #eddie munson #stranger things

122 notes · View notes

robynrocksforbrains · 1 year

Text

I'm about to ramble like I've never rambled before.

Season five is going to have the most well executed displays of affection and romantic moments not only because byler will be happening but also because this show has always been about LOVE. Love has been constant throughout the entire show. It's always been about love saving the day. Which is why we see what happens when love is unwavering. When it's hidden. When it's suppressed. We see the consequences of believing there is a "right way" to love. We see the consequences of performing love. And we see the rewards of just loving. No matter what other people say. No matter if people think you're crazy. If you love someone you fight for them even when everyone tells you it's wrong. Or that you shouldn't. Or that you should give up.

That is most prevalent in season one and two.

In season one the whole town thinks Joyce is crazy. But she says it herself "Maybe I'm crazy! Maybe I'm out of my mind! But god help me I will keep these lights up until the day I die if I think there's a chance that Will is still out there!" Jonathan and Nancy team up to kill the demogorgon because they love Will and Barb respectively. Mike, Lucas, and Dustin continue to search for Will even when it will get them in trouble. Even when it's dangerous. Even when everyone believes he's dead. They keep searching and they keep fighting because they love him.

In season two Joyce, Jonathan, and Mike do not stop trying to reach Will. Even when he appears to be gone, they keep reaching. And once they reach him they keep holding on. And even when Will tells them to close the gate, likely knowing it will kill him, they don't accept that. Joyce finds a way. Mike, Lucas, Dustin, Max, and Steve find a way to give El and Hopper a fighting chance. All of their actions are fueled by unwavering love and loyalty for each other.

This show has always been about love. It has been the lifeblood of the entire series. It has been a constant, so much so that you almost become blind to it. Because unwavering love is the baseline, you don't really notice it until something changes. That's what seasons three and four did. They made us notice that the baseline existed in the first place. We started to see fluctuations.

In season three, Mike and El are constantly off in their own little world, they aren't considerate of their friends. Will is feeling completely and totally isolated and like the group is falling apart. Dustin is separated from them for the entire season. Will says it best in the rain fight "where's Dustin? See you don't know and you don't even care! And obviously he doesn't either and I don't blame him!". The Party has their good moments in season three, but gone is the shameless love and unwavering support that they once offered each other. Lucas and Mike leave Will out and make fun of him. Which is so unlike them. None of them actually believe Suzie exists, and they humor Dustin in a condescending manner. Dustin isn't an idiot, he knew that they were being condescending. But he chose to give them the benefit of the doubt and tolerate them because it was so unusual for them to be so mean to each other. In conclusion, season three shows us the consequence of the loss of that unwavering and unselfish love.

(color code for this point on: genuine love / performance / something that is not loving)

In season four, there is even more fluctuating. The season starts off with El lying in her letter to Mike. Ending a letter of lies with "Love, El". Which is an interesting juxtaposition to the concept of "true love". Will's feelings are spotlighted by the mention of the painting and the "girl" he might like. Mike and Dustin are not supportive of Lucas, and they are not there to celebrate his accomplishments. Will is supportive of El and tries to comfort her in the face of her "failures". (Not that I think her class presentation was a failure, she did amazing. But she felt like she had failed.) Lucas continues to reach out to Max and pay attention to her even when she continuously pushes him away; even when she's mean. We see Mike and El putting on fake smiles, it's clear that they can't be themselves in this relationship. They're once again ignoring Will. Mike and Will fight again. Mike and El have their fight about Mike's inability to say "I love you" and about how he makes El feel like a monster. Joyce and Murray go to FUCKING RUSSIA to save Hopper. Mike and Will begin to patch up their relationship. Will gives Mike the painting and along with it his veiled love confession. And although it's hidden behind a flimsy lie, it is such a beautiful act of love. Because the lie is not selfish. He's lying because he believes it is what's best for Mike, not himself. He hands over his heart on a silver platter for Mike and tells him that it's someone else's because he believes that's what Mike needs. Although it is dishonest, it is closer to the concept of "true love" than El's letter from the beginning of the season. (Not a lot of consistency. Well, there's consistent inconsistency. This season is so far from the baseline)

And then we have Mike's monologue. Mike's monologue that brings the concept of "love saves the day" to front and center stage. And for the first time we see them completely and utterly lose.

(I'd like to say that I hate the way people say that the deaths in season 4 are Mike's fault because of the monologue. They are not his fault, he is 14 oh my god please stop putting that on him. But the loss is crucial to understanding why that baseline I was talking about is so important.)

In the first two seasons, when we were at this "baseline", the show never told us that love was going to save the day. It didn't have to tell us. It was obvious, but not in a dramatic and cheesy way. The monologue is dramatic and cheesy. It uses romance tropes that no one actually likes. It doesn't line up with any of Mike's behavior throughout the entire show. This is the first time that the show states over and over again "love is going to save the day". It's this big dramatic moment that falls flat on its face because we have never needed them to tell us this before. So why are they telling us now?

"Forced conforming. That's what's killing the kids."

For the first time, stranger things conforms to the usual dramatics of the "love saves the day" trope. And a kid literally dies.

In season one, when they find Will in the UD, we know what has led to this moment. We know that Joyce has fought her way to this moment fueled by nothing but unwavering love and an unyielding belief that her son was out there. That he was alive. Then they find him dead. But Joyce and Hopper fought for Will for that entire week, why would they stop fighting now. So Hopper starts cpr, and it's an intense moment. But it's not dramatic. It's just real, and raw. It's a mother desperately begging her son to come back to her. And Will lives.

Compare that to the dramatics of the monologue while Max is being murdered? It doesn't take a genius to figure out what happened there.

El brings Max back in a quiet moment. She finds her resolve and she says "No. You're not going." And this moment feels similar to when Will was resuscitated. Lucas is sobbing and desperate for someone to help. And El helps. That moment is not a performance. No one is there to see what she does. That moment is an act of true love. It's not fueled by a dramatic monologue. It's just love. For this one moment, we come back to the baseline.

Season four was about the performance of love. And conforming to the "right way" to love. That is why they failed.

I believe that season five will see the return to this baseline that I talked about. For all the types of love we see in the show, but the one I'm focused on is romantic love. (This is not me saying that romantic love is more important, it's just the one I'm thinking about the most right now)

Because not only has the show always been about love, it's also always been about Will. It started with him; it started with the group's love for him. If love is the lifeblood of the show, Will is the heart and soul of the show. And now there has been so much attention drawn to Will's romantic love for Mike, and his desire to be loved in that same way. He is so so sad because he believes that this form of love just isn't for him. His love being requited is a satisfying ending to his arc, but is also the perfect opportunity to bring the show back to its "baseline". Will's arc concluding with his love being requited is the perfect way to drive home the message they've been sending this entire time. The heart of the show deserves to receive the love it has inspired.

Will has loved Mike. Mike has loved Will. They don't need a big dramatic confession. They just need to be honest with themselves and honest with each other. True love.

This was just a ramble so I don't really have a conclusion and I don't know if anyone will understand what I'm trying to say. But this is an aspect of the show that I absolutely adore and I am so passionate about it and I just had to talk about it.

#byler #stranger things #anti mileven #mike wheeler #will byers #will byers my beloved #mike wheeler is queer #will byers is gay #mike wheeler is in love with will byers #will byers is in love with mike wheeler #byler analysis #idk what else to tag #hope this makes sense #i just love this show so much

152 notes · View notes

darklydeliciousdesires · 19 days

Text

Nobody's Girl - Chapter Twelve.

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven

Taglist - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed

Words - 4,107

Warnings - Adult content throughout, minors DNI!

Dead. She was dead.

Emily might not have liked the woman, but the shock still hit her like a steam train going at full speed, gasping as she covered her mouth with her hands, reaching then to pull Luca into her arms.

His body slumped against her, hugging her back tightly, ever muscle corded tight. “How... how the fuck do I tell my kids, Emily? How do I tell ‘em their mother fuckin’ killed herself?”

She was at a loss to know how to answer that, Luca pushing from her embrace and striding out of the room, heading in a direction she followed. She found him at the drink's cabinet, pouring a large measure of whiskey, a second he then passed to her upon sensing her behind him. Turning to her, his eyes were glassy, blinking a few tears he wiped away on the back of his hand.

It had to have hit him hard, because of course he’d never, ever want her to end up dead, no matter how difficult she’d been, or how her behaviour had spiralled so much after the last two months. If he hadn’t cared, he’d have simply left her there in her own pool of vomit that afternoon.

He’d quietly told her of what he’d done, when the children had gone to the concessions stand at the movie theatre, Emily bursting with pride that he’d been so tender with Filomena as to carry her upstairs and bathe her, but saddened that the woman was in such a state that he couldn’t trust her to do so unsupervised.

Sinking another whiskey, he began to pace, slamming the glass down on the mahogany sideboard, raking his fingers through his hair repeatedly. It made her heart thrum with cool waves, seeing him unravel like that. He was the strong one, the man who was always unquestionably held together, reinforced by steel.

“How could she do it? How could she leave those children without a mother, for the love of Christ! What the hell was she thinkin’?” He paced a little more, agitation coursing through his lithe muscles, swinging his arms as he began gesticulating wildly. “I shouldn’t have left her. It’s my fault. I left a broken woman, didn’t even think to call her mother either, I just called somebody I could fuckin’ pay and got outta there. Like she was a fuckin’ job, not a person on the edge!”

Sipping her drink, Emily stood tall, taking a deep breath as she halted him. “Luca, it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t, don’t you dare even think it, let alone speak those words. Anything could have happened, you don’t know! She... she might have had more booze there stashed away, and drunkenly decided to go stand up there, for whatever reason. It could have been an accident. Or it could have just been a snap decision. She wasn’t well, and that wasn’t your fault. She might have had sickness of the mind.”

He stopped, the weight of it all tugging on his shoulders, the gravitas painful, swallowing hard as he closed his eyes. “I dunno. Still on me though, ain’t it, if she was cuckoo. Shouldda seen it and gotten her in an asylum, where they have people who know how to deal with that.”

It was a little far a swing, but Emily knew he was still dealing with the shock colliding within, not thinking straight. Hell, nobody could have seen this coming, in such a short time space of her beginning to drink like a fish and then flinging herself from the roof. Five months. Whereas they had been together for almost nine at that point, he’d only told his ex about her five months prior.

“Sickness of the mind isn’t all screaming and drooling. She could have been hiding it under the drunkenness, or maybe that was her way of trying to cope. But I will not stand idly by why you blame yourself, love. No. No way. It wasn’t your fault. You are not your ex-wife's keeper, any more than I was my mother’s.”

Taking his arms, she halted him, squeezing, reaching to hold his face in her hands. “We’re going to have three heartbroken children to get through this. You can’t go into consoling them through such an eclipsing grief while you’re blaming yourself. “

She was right, Emily the tethering moon to his surging sea, pulling his waves back from crashing mercilessly against the rocks. He’d had his moment to crumble a little under the weight of it, squaring his shoulders as he raised up to his full height again, nodding, pulling her close.

“We’ll tell them in the morning, let them have one more night of normality before their world gets blown apart.”

Neither of them slept well that night, both lying awake her and there, curling up together, breaking apart again, Emily eventually rising at six and heading downstairs to fetch a copy of the morning paper. The man at the kiosk gave her his usual bright smile, also selling her a few candy bars for the kids and a pack of cigarettes, wishing her a good day.

Crossing the road, she went and stood at the edge of the park, watching the sun climbing higher in the sky, casting the boating pond in a beautiful peach shimmer as it illuminated the many tall buildings surrounding the massive, green space.

“Wherever you are, Filomena, I hope you’re not in pain any longer. I’m sorry, too. I know I was part of the cause. I’ll love him forever, though. I’ll look after him, too. And the little ones.”

It hit her then, as she watched the rays breaking through the trees onto the winding path ahead, that she’d just become a mother figure to three children. It was daunting. In truth, she didn’t know how equipped she was to deal with it. Lighting herself a cigarette, she moved to sit upon the wall, wishing she could simply kick off her shoes and go running into the park, escape the looming emotional day she was about to have.

“Don’t be so fucking silly!” she then castigated herself with, banishing those thoughts. “Those children lost their mother, and you’re sitting here in your Prada dress, thousands of dollars' worth of diamonds on your finger, a man who adores you, and you want to run away from today?”

Nixing her little slither of selfishness in the bud, she finished her cigarette and went back upstairs, letting herself into the apartment quietly. She moved into the kitchen, Luca sitting there quietly at the table, sliding into the seat next to him.

“Hey, baby. You alright?”

She shrugged, placing the newspaper down. “Yeah, yeah. Just sad for the kids and what we have to tell them. Do you want breakfast?”

“Nah,” he sniffed, opening the paper, “ain’t hungry.”

“Me neither.” She leaned against his arm, Luca shrugging her away softly to then wrap that arm around her, placing a kiss atop her head. They sat there in silence, reading the paper together, waiting, waiting...

“Morning, daddy. Morning, Emily. Are we still going to the park today? Oh, and my new bed is so nice, I had such a good sleep,” Milania spoke as she walked into the kitchen, still in her nightgown and little slippers. “Hey, why’d you guys look sad?”

“Are your brothers awake yet, sweetheart?” Luca asked.

“Guiseppe is, but Alessio is still out. You know how he is.”

That might’ve been better, actually, telling them separately. There would need to be severe toning down for six-year-old ears, Luca knowing of course that his elder children would naturally demand to know how their mother had passed away. He wasn’t sure Alessio would truly understand the concept of suicide. An accident. That’s how he had to explain it to his youngest.

Rising from the table, he reached for her hand. “Come on, let’s go sit in the lounge.”

“Daddy,” she spoke pensively, “what’s going on?”

“Guiseppe, hurry up, son.” he called, Milania taking a seat on the couch, Luca dragging the heavy coffee table nearer to sit himself right in front of her, Emily taking the couch, too. Guiseppe slipped into the gap between her and his sister, wondering why the hell his father looked so drained. It was a strange thing to behold, their daddy not carrying himself with his usual pride and strength.

“Kids, last night after you guys had gone to bed, we had a phone call from Catherine. There’s no easy way to tell you this, but your mother, she passed away at a little after eleven last night.”

The shock in their faces hit him in the chest like a blade, bewilderment, unwillingness to believe their ears, their little hearts shattered that they’d lost their precious mommy. They fell apart, screaming for it not to be true, floods of tears falling, Luca pulling them both into his arms as he comforted their grief.

“How? How did she die?” Milania managed to stop sobbing for long enough to ask, her breathing erratic, Guiseppe moving to wrap himself around Emily when he felt her hand smooth down his back.

Luca took a deep breath, knowing that this part would shatter them both even more. “She took her own life. Threw herself from the roof. It wouldda been quick, like that. Instant. She wouldn’t have felt any pain.”

“No,” Milania gritted, her eyes fixing to Emily, “just the pain you caused her before she died. This is your fault! You did this! Mommy killed herself because you wouldn’t let daddy go back to her.”

Oh god. Oh, god.

“Milania, no. That ain’t true, honey. Wasn’t Emily’s fault at all. Your mommy, she was sick,” Luca began, trying to take hold of her shoulders, the child shaking herself free of his grasp.

“No, no! It’s her fault! Mommy was only sad after she came along!”

“Milania, stop it!” her brother cried, emerging from Emily’s arms. “Emily didn’t do nothing wrong!”

“Yes, she did! She stopped our parents from getting back together! She made mommy sad! I curse you, Emily! I’ll never forgive you for this!”

She fled from the room in a sea of tears and screams, Luca making a start to go after her, Emily reaching to grip his forearm. “Leave her be a little while, let her calm down.”

“Are you gonna tell Alessio?” Guiseppe asked, still crying, but trying so hard to hold himself together. Emily’s heart went out to him for such bravery. He was a practical, pragmatic kid. A smaller version of his father in that respect.

“Yeah, as soon as he wakes up, son,” Luca confirmed, reaching to smooth his hair from his face. “Ain’t gonna tell him in as much detail as I did you and your sister, though. He’s too little to understand.”

Just then, the child running in, teddy bear still in his grasp, a big grin upon his face as he scrambled into his father’s lap. “Daddy, can you help me clean my teeth. I can’t reach the new sink, it’s too big.”

“Sure can, little guy.” Picking him up, he carried his son down to the bathroom, Emily’s heart shattering all over again, knowing he’d likely get his teeth sorted and then relay the awful news to him.

Wrapping Guiseppe in a tighter hug, she stroked his hair lovingly, kissing his forehead. “Whatever you want to do today, it’s fine by me and daddy. If that just means hanging out in your pyjamas and listen to the radio, or reading your comics, then that’s what you can do, okay?”

Down the hallway, she heard the sounds of tiny cries filtering from the bathroom, her eyes welling with tears. It was horrible, and she would have done anything to take away their pain, bear the burden herself so they didn’t have to.

The boy she hugged didn’t reply, shaking with his silent crying, sniffing hard as he curled into his soon to be stepmother’s embrace a little more, assuming somewhat of a foetal position, but never letting go of her.

“I-I d-don't get it,” he finally stammered, looking up at her with wounded, hazel eyes. “Why d-did s-she wanna l-leave us? Did we d-do something wrong?”

Her heart. Oh, god. “You did absolutely nothing wrong, sweetie,” she spoke, stroking his arm comfortingly. “Mommy had some problems, and I don’t think the drink made them better. I think she hid a lot of how she felt, and just got herself stuck in a moment. That’s just me guessing, though. Ultimately, only one person knows, and she isn’t here to ask why. I just know it was nothing to do with you kids, though. She adored you all to your bones.”

He nodded, his tears not abating. Lying with his head in her lap, crying and crying, Emily became vaguely aware of the phone trilling out in the hallway, making a start to get up but then hearing Luca answer. He came in after a few minutes, a wide eyed, teary Alessio clung onto him.

“That was Rocco, Fil’s father. He and Allegra are on their way over from New Jersey. They’re comin’ by here, and then arranging for her body to be taken to the funeral home,” he spoke, grimacing slightly as he scratched his jaw. “That’ll be interesting. Rocco and I get on great, always have, even since the divorce. Allegra... not so much.”

“Nona said she wanted to use your face as a dart board,” Guiseppe suddenly came out with, temporarily pulled from his grief, smiling a tiny little smirk.

“Trust me, son,” Luca began, widening his eyes a little, “she said much worse to my face, but she ain’t really comin’ here for me. It’s to see you guys.”

While they waited for the arrival from New Jersey, Alessio finally let go of his father, running to curl into Emily, his and his brother finally ceased on the tear front. At least for then. While Luca went to go and check on Milania, Emily left the boys listening to the radio, busying herself with cleaning the kitchen. They had a housekeeper who came three times a week, so she didn’t truly need to, but working a sponge heaving with a thick barrage of suds over the counters and table did feel somewhat soothing.

Not much worked in taking her mind off the matter at hand when she heard Milania’s out of control, emotional screaming, though. It made her feel sad, that the little truce they’d carved out the previous day had been cut so abruptly short, but this wasn’t about her at all. It was about the heartbroken children, Milania especially as a teenage girl, her hormones going wild enough as it was, and now having to negotiate her entire future without her beloved mother there.

God, how she wished she could go to her, offer comfort, tell her that while there was no way she was looking to replace Filomena, that she would be there for her day and night. Such a token would not be accepted well by any means, though. Not now, and probably not for a long time either. She could hear Luca patiently trying to drum it through her head that Emily was not the cause of this, hearing it in his voice he was losing patience with being screamed at with such blind fury.

When he finally appeared in the kitchen, he looked how any man would after a full half hour of being yelled at by an irate and heartbroken teenage girl. “I’m surprised she didn’t scream herself hoarse,” he spoke, running his hand over his face with a deep sigh. “My fuckin’ eardrums are ringing.”

Moving from where she’d been wiping the table dry with a clean towel, Emily reached for him, Luca happily being pulled down to her level, resting his head against her shoulder with an annoyed grunt. “I’m so fuckin’ angry with her for doing this. She left her babies, and all this mess behind for us to clear up for her. Fuckin’ coward of a puttana.”

She didn’t look to correct or chastise him for that. He was perfectly within his rights to feel anger towards Filomena, whether she’d been in her right mind or not at the time of her death. While he’d swung between blaming her and himself when they’d first found it, now he’d seen the impact it had upon his children, that blame had firmly and solely shifted to her.

He straightened, kissing her on the way back up, hands resting either side of her neck as his thumbs stroked. “I’m sorry. We should be nothing but happy right now, just gettin’ engaged. I was gonna take you up to the Catskills for a few days, just us, but now that’s shot to shit.”

Smoothing her hands down his chest, feeling the alluring hardness of lithe muscles beneath her fingers, she let herself get lost in that dream for a few moments. Him and her, likely undressing as soon as they crossed the threshold and not bothering to dress again until they left.

It would have been idyllic. All she knew had been broken apart by Filomena’s decision, but the charity in Emily’s heart still couldn’t allow room to hate the poor woman. It had blown the life she knew with Luca, just him and her, to utter smithereens. There now wouldn’t be a time when there weren’t children around, unless they were left in the care of a nanny. Children she was now responsible for, too.

“It can wait,” she assured him, both moving to sit at the table. “We need to prioritise the children above anything else right now.”

The unselfishness of her spoke volumes to him. In all of this, such a steady woman at his side truly was what he needed. She’d come so far from the scared, timid little scrap he’d lifted off the street a broken and bloodied mess the previous winter. “You’re right, we do. Milania is gonna be the toughest, going forward. That kid, she’s so much like her mother. She needs to point her anger at somebody, and I’m sorry, baby. It’s gonna be you for the foreseeable.”

Him seeming like he would be accepting of that made her feel uncomfortable, but she stuffed it down, knowing that it wasn’t about her. It truly wasn’t. “I know, and I’ll let it roll off my back as best I can.”

He took her hand, kissing it a few times while shaking his head. “She can say it as much as she likes, but it don’t make it true. I told her that back there in her room,” he began, jerking his head in the direction of the hallway, “but of course, she wasn’t ready to hear it.” He thought for a few moments, thumb stroking the back of her hand. “She is right, but not that it’s your fault. It was the news of us being engaged that - for the lack of a less morbidly apt analogy – was the final nail in the coffin.”

That was an uncomfortable truth they both had to deal with, that their happiness at making such a commitment to one another had been the straw to break the camel’s back, and sent Filomena off a rooftop to her death. It coiled through Emily’s belly like a serpent, spiny and cold slithering against her.

“If you wanna escape, head over to Brooklyn and see Maggie or go visit Greta, you go, alright?”

Getting up, she moved to sit herself on his lap, wrapping her arms around him. “I’m not leaving any of you. Wouldn’t be right.” Placing a kiss upon the side of his head, she felt his arms tighten around her in a silent thank you. “My place is here, not swanning off to be with my friends because things are difficult. That isn’t the woman I am.”

“I know.” He kissed her neck, rubbing circles at her hip. “And I thank god for you every fuckin’ day, being the selfless woman you are. If you do wanna, though, s’okay with me, baby.” He’d never admit that being locked in a house of such mourning by himself was the last thing he wanted, but he felt a little of her selfless nature rub off on him. If she needed to get out of there for a little breathing space, he wasn’t about to stop her.

She didn’t, though, hovering close by to his boys for the rest of the day, being on hand for cuddles and comfort when they had bursts of tears and need. They seemed to brighten a little when their grandparents visited, but as soon as they left, the children returned to sullen and quiet.

He knew it was to be expected, leaving them to their thoughts for the most part, his heart warmed by the sight of Emily curled up on the couch napping with Alessio for an hour in the late afternoon. He kept checking on Milania, too, but couldn’t coax her out of her room no matter what he tried. Her statement was the same each time. “I don’t want to be around her.”

He knew pressing would likely lead to nothing good, kissing her head each time and telling her she knew where he was if she needed him. It was a tough parenting impasse to be at. She was hurting hugely, heartbroken at the loss of her mother so therefore he didn’t want to come down on her too heavily for her lack of respect, but at the same time he knew he couldn’t pander to her dislike of his fiancée.

He had to credit Emily, though. She went about it with nothing but a practical approach.

“Milania?” she called, knocking her door before poking her head around. “I’m going to the place down the block you guys like to pick up some dinner. What do you want?”

“I want you to get the hell out of my room.”

Breathe, keep calm, try again. “Sweetheart, I know you’re angry at me, I know this. You have to try and eat something, though. Even if it’s just a sandwich.”

Nothing. Just a face stuffed into her pillow, kicking her feet back and forth in annoyance. “Shall I get you a chicken club? It’ll keep in the icebox if you don’t want it right away?”

“Don’t you listen? I said I wanted you to get out of my room, so get out!”

She nodded sadly, drumming her nails against the door. “Okay, honey.”

“I’m not your honey. I fucking hate you.”

“Milania!” Oh, yes. Luca and his hearing akin to a bat had heard her cuss, moving past Emily in a nanosecond. “You watch your mouth, you hear me? No cussing.”

“Why?” she spat, “you do all the time.”

“Not around you kids, I don’t. You’ll remember your manners. You don’t wanna eat? Fine, you say no thanks and you leave it there. I know you’re hurting, kid, but you ain’t speakin’ like that to Emily. Not on my watch.”

They left her alone, both sighing, Emily putting her feet into her shoes while Luca peeled off a few notes to go and buy the food.

“Emily?” Guiseppe called, getting up from where he’d been lying on the floor, his nose in his comic books. “Can I come too?”

“Sure, you can.” she smiled, waiting for him to put his shoes on, waiting for him at the front door. Once in the elevator, she felt him slip his hand into hers, his fingers curling around in a tight grasp as he leaned into her, looking up at her with sad eyes.

“Milania might hate you, but I don’t. I’m glad you’re here. It feels bad, really bad, but I think it would be worse if my pop didn’t have a nice lady like you.”

The size of the lump that balled hard in her throat...

“I love you, little man. I’m going to be there for you whenever you need me, okay?” she reassured him, Guiseppe smiling, letting go of her hand to hug her waist instead.

“I know. Love you too, Em.”

In a time of very black, cloudy skies, the little moment they shared there in the gold gilt elevator was like a rainbow shining through the gloom. It was a moment she knew she’d remember fondly, too. It was both the evening she’d first heard her future stepson tell her he loved her, and the evening she’d counted as the fifth day that has passed without her monthlies showing up.

#luca changretta fanfiction #luca changretta #luca changretta x ofc #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fic #luca changretta smut #luca changretta fanfic #luca changretta fic #nobody's girl #luca and emily #tw: suicide

17 notes · View notes