#first and last strawberry I grew this year

[flittermouseart]

🍓

NOBODY say anything to my strawberry plant!!! Melvin (the strawberry plant) is so tiny and dumb and it doesn’t realize that summer’s almost over. Don’t tell it that it’s out of season!!! Let me enjoy my surprise strawberries!!!

#flittermouseart #doodle art #doodle me #paper child #strawberry #first and last strawberry I grew this year #melvin the strawberry plant did not let me down #gardening adventures

[wlntrsldler]

we can't be friends (wait for your love) | luke castellan

synopsis: where luke survives the battle of manhattan and returns to camp half blood, only to see you (his ex) in a new relationship.

based on we can't be friends (wait for your love) by ariana grande

luke didn’t plan on making it out alive from the battle of manhattan, but here he was, back in camp half blood, wishing that he succumbed to his wounds instead of fighting to stay alive. the camp was different, cold and foreign to him, even though he’d spent a good chunk of his life on the campgrounds. all his best and worst memories were made at camp half blood, but that life seemed unreachable now. at this point, luke didn’t know if the memories that he recalled were actually his or if they were just tricks kronos was still pulling on him. 

the campers knew him as the ‘traitor.’ the kids he used to help with their sword skills cowered in fear whenever he approached them. the apollo kids only tended to his wounds because they had to and even then, they glared at him and wrapped the bandages just tight enough not to cut off blood flow. the satyrs who used to slip him strawberries from their fields, spoke about him in hushed whispers whenever he walked by them. but the thing that hurt the most was seeing you walk around with theo harvey, hand in hand, just like he used to do with you. 

he didn’t have the right to be upset. it’s been years since the two of you were last together, years since he held your hand in his, kissed your lips, felt you asleep on his chest. it was before he turned into this monster with hands stained with the blood of the people he considered friends, considered family. he knew you’d move on. he told himself that he wanted you to be happy, to receive the love that you deserved, but selfishly, he knew deep down that he wanted you to have that with him– not the theo harvey, child of athena, favored by the gods. 

at first, luke thought he’d be able to make it through the summer. as far as he knew, the older kids didn’t stay at camp half blood throughout the year, but he was thoroughly disappointed when he found out that a lot of the older kids stayed to guard camp just in case something happened. luke blamed himself for his own suffering. getting used as kronos’ host hurt less than seeing your lipgloss on theo’s cheek when they sparred; or noticing that the necklace he made for you when he was 15 was replaced by the one that theo bought you; or hearing your giggles from across the campfire while theo whispered corny jokes in your ear. he did this to himself.

it made him sick to his stomach. he discreetly moved into the poseidon cabin with percy (he grew tired of his siblings falling silent every time he walked into the hermes cabin. he no longer knew how to sleep in silence because it was always loud and rowdy when his siblings were involved, but alas, that changed too). luke was scared of it at first, knowing that he was on thin ice with the gods, but percy, being percy, scoffed. 

“you already tried to dethrone them,” the younger boy joked, trying to lighten luke’s broody demeanor, “i think you staying in a cabin you’re not assigned to is on the bottom of your list of offenses.” 

“dude. too soon.” 

“my bad.” 

the trio tried their best to cheer luke up. they knew that it was probably difficult for him to come back to camp after everything, but it became clear quickly that luke’s mood was not just due to everyone at camp hating him, but rather because one person at camp wanted nothing to do with him. 

anyone who saw you and luke interact before everything went down, knew that there was something between you guys that nothing in the world could touch. none of them knew the extent of your bond until it was your voice that snapped luke out of kronos’ control. it took one word. one syllable. luke. the second he heard your voice, it was like a switch was flipped in luke’s brain. 

percy made an ill-timed joke after the dust cleared, “if y/n was all it took to bring you back, we would’ve dragged her to see you a long time ago, buddy. would’ve saved us a lot of time.” 

“percy.” 

on the way back to chb, luke revealed that he made a deal with kronos to keep you out of harm’s way. he only agreed to be kronos’ host if it meant that he would protect you, keep you away from all the bloodshed of the war. the titan agreed but underestimated your stubbornness and prowess. when you showed up to the battle of manhattan, a part of kronos knew that his plan was spoiled. 

so luke’s actions, sulking during meals, spending too many hours training, opting to be alone, made sense to them. you hadn’t so much looked in his direction since he arrived at camp half blood; not even a smile, a wave, an acknowledgment of his presence. it was painful to watch luke stare at you from across the room, longing evident on his face, only breaking his gaze when theo finally showed up to take his usual spot next to you. luke still loved you, that part was clear, but at what point was it too much? 

annabeth, who’d watched your love story unfold, and was your number one fan, was heartbroken to watch your relationship crumble. she liked theo, her half-sibling was great, but luke was her brother and as much as he messed up, she felt bad for him. you were it for luke. if luke was going to end up with someone, it was you. she always believed that it was written in the stars, crafted by the hands of fate, professed by the goddess of love herself, that in this life you and luke would prevail and when your time came to exist in the afterlife, you’d find each other in elysium. but with how things were looking, annabeth began to question her own belief system.

it happened during one of the many nights luke couldn’t fall asleep, no matter how hard he tried. he threw on one of the hoodies he left behind at camp before sneaking out of the poseidon cabin to smoke a cigarette, a habit he picked up during his days on princess andromeda. 

he saw you then, standing by the lake seemingly on patrol. he didn’t know that you’d be assigned to guard tonight. if he did, he probably wouldn’t have come out of the cabin. as much as he stared at you and scratched at his palms wanting to talk to you, he never made an effort to. he knew you well enough to know when you wanted nothing to do with someone and how you were treating him right now made your intentions very clear. 

luke was trying his best to be quiet, but he accidentally burned the tip of his thumb with his lighter and let out a hiss. you turned around immediately, sword drawn, in a fighting stance. you narrowed your eyes, trying to make out who was out of the cabins this late at night. 

“shit,” luke mumbled, stuffing his cig and lighter in his pocket. he’d been so distracted looking at you, trying to hide himself, that he didn’t notice the fire was so close to his skin. he raised his hands up, trying to show that he wasn’t looking for trouble, “i-i’ts uh, it’s just me. sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you.” 

you froze in your spot, arm slowly falling to your side. you placed your sword back in its place, walking over to him, “luke?” 

it was pathetic how the corners of his lips quirked up in a smile at the sound of his name leaving your lips. he hadn’t heard it since that day and it made a warmth spread across his chest. he wiped the smile off his face as you got close enough to see him, afraid that you’d think he was making a joke out of the situation. he stood there awkwardly as your eyes studied his face and his body, probably assessing if he was a threat. 

“hey, y/n,” your name tasted sour in his mouth. he hadn’t called you that in years, always referring to you as baby, or babe, or love, or another cringy pet name that you pretended to hate but the blush on your cheeks said otherwise. using your real name felt too formal, like you were strangers. perhaps you considered him a stranger now. the idea made luke want to disappear. “i just uh, came out to get some fresh air.”

you stayed silent, pursing your lips as you continued to stare at him. luke tried not to think about how much of a mess he looked right now. the sweater was a size too small on him, sleeves falling short on his wrists. his pajama pants were wrinkled and stained with mud where they dragged on the floor on his way to the lake. his curls were a mess on his head. he ran a hand through his hair one too many times while he tossed and turned on his cot. the bags under his eyes weren’t the most flattering and the smaller scars that had been added on his face since the battle were disgusting to look at. 

he cleared his throat, “i can go back to the cabin, i-it’s really not a big deal. i’ll just crack a window open or something.”

“where are you staying?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest, “i know you’re not sleeping in the hermes cabin. the stolls told me you haven’t been there in days.” 

luke rubbed the back of his neck, “i’ve been staying with percy. ‘m not really welcomed in my cabin right now.” 

“i see,” you replied. 

“yeah.” 

“you need to stop it.” 

luke gulped, “stop what?” 

“staring at me,” you licked your lips before taking your bottom lip between your teeth. you scruffed the bottom of your shoes on the grass, a tell that you were feeling awkward. he was brought back to the day you confessed your feelings for him. 

you were sixteen, he seventeen, right after he returned from his quest. he’d taken you out into the woods to get away from the judgment of the campers about his failed quest. he was lying on his back, pointing out the constellations in the sky, when you got up with your hands on your back. you shyly rocked back and forth on the tips of your toes and the balls of your feet, staring down at him with a red flush on your cheeks. 

you started dragging your feet on the floor, ignoring the dirt that kicked up from your actions that stuck on the fabric of your converses. you had mumbled that you liked him and luke couldn’t believe it. he asked you to repeat yourself, louder the second time, partly because he wanted to hear it again, and partly because he thought he was hearing things. when you groaned and walked away, fully believing that he was messing with you, luke jolted from his position and ran after you. he wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you around, proclaiming his own feelings for you in between fits of giggles and kisses to your cheek. 

this scene was the opposite of that. your stare was cold and serious, needing to get this point across. luke thought you looked different. physically, you still looked like his y/n– same hair, same eyes, same lips, but the look on your face was distant. you’d never looked at him like this before, like you didn’t know him at all, like he had no place in the life you created for yourself. luke didn’t know if it hurt more to have you ignore him like you had been doing for weeks, or have you look at him like this. 

“i have a boyfriend, luke,” you sighed, “you can’t keep looking at me like that.” 

“i-i’m sorry,” he stuttered out, tears burning his eyes. “i just miss you.” 

“please don’t do that,” you whispered, turning your head away from him. luke watched you wipe your tears with your forearm and all he wanted to do was engulf you in his arms like he’d done a million times before and hold you until the storm was over. “you don’t get to say things like that to me.” 

luke rubbed his jaw, trying to keep his hands occupied, “you know i can never lie to you.” 

“i need you to lie to me this time, okay?” you refused to look at him now. “i need you to say that you don’t feel anything for me anymore.” 

“i can’t do that, y/n.” 

“i spent years loving you and you left, luke. you chose to betray us,” you placed your palms on your stomach, trying to steady yourself. you felt like you couldn’t breathe. this is why you’d been avoiding him. you knew that the minute he made his way back into your life, you’d fall on your knees, at his mercy. a part of you knew that he wouldn’t do anything like that again, but you also knew that in the off-chance that he would, you wouldn’t survive a second blow. you barely made it out alive after the first one. losing luke for a second time would ruin you. “i like theo. i’m finally learning to live without you and i can’t lose all this progress over some wishful thinking. luke, i can’t do that.” 

“it’s not wishful thinking,” luke replied, sniffling. 

“stop it!” you sobbed, turning to look at him. your tears were streaming down your face, despair and hurt clouding your eyes, “stop it, please! i’m begging you to let me go. i-i can’t have you in my life. don’t you get it? i’m tethered to you. you’re the other half of my soul. you own a piece of my heart that i can never ever get back, but i-i’m exhausted trying to fight you off.”

luke’s shoulders deflated at the sound of agony in your voice. he took a step back, mouth opening and closing as he tried to will his mind to say something, anything, in response to you. but he couldn’t. where does he even start? 

should he tell you that it was the memories with you that kept him sane all those years he was held captive? should he tell you that he visited camp half blood despite knowing that it would cause more harm than good during those years just in the hopes that he could catch a glimpse of you? should he tell you that when the corners of his vision began to blur, it was the feeling of your hands pressing against his wounds that made him fight to stay alive?

he’d stay alive just to feel your touch, warm and steady hands on his tattered skin as he’d always remembered, for a second longer. he’d use his last bit of strength to place a kiss on your knuckles, injuries be damned because he needed you to know how he felt. he’d use his last breath to tell you that you looked beautiful, bloodied and bruised, under the light of the world burning around you. he’d spend the rest of his life hated by everyone in the world just to have you glance in his direction. he’d spend his time in the afterlife in tartarus if it meant that he had a shot at rebirth, in a life where you loved him again. 

“make it easier for me and put me out of my misery,” you choked out, “you at least owe me that decency.” 

luke knew that he was difficult to love. his mom went crazy because she loved him. his dad abandoned him because he was too much. thalia hated him because of who he had become. annabeth still flinched when percy made jokes about kronos because it reminded her of what luke did. luke knew that loving him was a chore, a burden, but he never thought that loving him would cause someone so much suffering. especially not you, who told him once that loving him was effortless, as easy as breathing in oxygen in the air. you once said that loving him was simple. it was second nature to you. 

now, he watched you cry out in pain. pain that he caused. and he knew he couldn’t in good conscience deny you of your request. luke stuffed his hands in his front pockets, “okay.” 

he looked at you, for the last time, before walking away, stumbling in his steps as he left you alone.

#frances writes #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan #luke castellan fanfic #luke pjo #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you

[vanteguccir]

It's noted | Chris Sturniolo

Chris Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where Y/N is part of the Sturniolo Triplets fandom and makes videos about them on TikTok. After years of creating content, one of her videos seems to catch the attention of none other than Chris.

Warning: None.

Requested?: Yes, from anon.

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

PS.: I used this tiktoker as an inspiration for the content that the reader creates on this.

PS. 2: I'm thinking of making a tag list for my Sturniolo Triplets x reader, so if you want to be included in it and be tagged on every Sturniolo x reader that I post, comment here please! 🩷

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It was true that the Sturniolo Triplets fandom grew so much in such a short time thanks to the fans themselves, who play a big role in bringing the channel to other people through social media - mainly TikTok. It was also true that, at least 90% of this part of the fandom works with edits of different types of the boys; compilation of parts from a certain video or podcast, edits and even memes.

But there was a small portion that made videos talking about the boys, showing their faces and voices while explaining their content, work and even giving tips on how the triplets themselves could increase their audience or improve their brands.

And Y/N was part of this small portion, having been in the fandom since mid-2021 and not missing any videos of the triplets, she could talk about them for hours on end.

Her biggest hobby was making videos giving ideas for their channel and brands: some brands they could collab with, theme ideas for car videos, topics for podcasts, prints for hoodie sets and t-shirts - both for the triplets' brand and for Fresh Love -, different flavors and themes for Space Camp, and so on.

The girl applied all her love and knowledge to all her videos, editing the backgrounds and explaining her ideas with the smallest details, making them understandable. She had perfect lighting, audio, and set equipment for her work, which made the quality equally good as her content.

Her trademark was her strawberry frappuccino, which she was always drinking every time she turned on her phone camera. Fans joked that her obsession with the drink was like Chris's obsession with Pepsi.

And all that was exactly why fans loved her so much. Y/N had more than 400 thousand followers on her TikTok account and all her videos reached an average of 150 thousand likes, in addition to the many comments saying how smart she was for having those ideas, her kindness in sharing them with the public and even complementing her beauty.

The girl spent hours of her day reading each one of them and interacting with fans as if they were best friends, always being very kind. She laughed her ass off at the comments from people who madly tagged the boys, especially Chris, as it was a well-known fact that he was her favorite - she loved to make that very clear.

Some fans even went so far as to say that if Chris was ever ready to get romantically involved with someone again, they wanted it to be with Y/N. The girl read that type of comment with a huge smile on her face and red cheeks, feeling honored. Although she imagined that the boys would never even notice her, she allowed herself to travel through the world of delusion from time to time.

So it was an understandment to say that she was super surprised when, after waking up on a typical Saturday and picking up her phone for the first time in the day before even getting out of bed - a bad habit of hers -, she saw the notifications in triple the volume of its normal.

She felt dizzy with so much information, trying to find in the midst of so many comments and messages what was really happening.

Finally, after traveling between her TikTok, Instagram, and Twitter for long minutes, she finally found it.

Chris Sturniolo had commented on her last video.

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It was Friday, and the triplets had just returned home after finishing recording their new car video that would be posted in a few hours.

Chris was currently lying in his bed, the lights in his room dimmed, and the low noise coming from his phone filling the four walls.

The brunette was just getting ready to take a shower minutes ago, having opened his TikTok and scrolling through his For You for a few minutes, about to take off his clothes used in the filming, when a video of an unknown girl talking about himself caught his attention.

It was very normal to have videos of and about himself on his For You, after all, the hours over the last few years that he spent liking one video or another showed the algorithm that he liked this type of content. Edits and memes of him alone or with his brothers filled his app, and he spent enough time watching, laughing, liking, and, sometimes, reposting some of them.

But it wasn't normal for him to have a completely unknown person talking directly about him, with her face and voice exposed for the world while doing it. And what surprised him most was what she was talking about, that specific video being about different prints and colors that he could use in the next Fresh Love collection.

His blue eyes lingered too long on the girl's face, admiring her features, her sweet voice serving as a melody for his ears.

When Chris dragged his thumb from the right to the left of his screen, entering the girl's profile, he finally noticed her name.

"Y/N." His voice came out in a whisper, enjoying more than necessary how the name slipped off his tongue so easily.

His fingers wandered across the screen, going from one video to another, listening to the ideas carefully - even writing some down on his Notes app -, saving some in a separate folder and browsing the comments, only then realizing that practically all of them were from fans tagging him.

Laughter escaped his lips at some of the jokes the girl made every now and then, while fascination filled his eyes with the effort she put into each idea.

The sound of knocking against his bedroom door startled him, his body jumping as he turned sharply towards the source of it, Matt's head appearing between his door and the frame, his eyebrows furrowed as his eyes traveled around the room briefly.

"You've been listening to this girl for so many hours that I thought she was here with you." Matt commented, opening the door wider and approaching Chris.

The youngest of the triplets rolled his eyes, suppressing the urge to lock his phone screen and keep Y/N all to himself, but she was well known in the fandom and her videos were about him and his brothers, the possibility of her content getting to them as quickly as it got to him was huge.

"It's a girl who appeared on my For You today. She makes videos of ideas for our channel and brands, can you believe it?" Chris looked at Matt as he showed his phone screen with Y/N's profile open. His eyes were wide with fascination, and his lips stretched into an enthusiastic smile.

Matt observed him for a few seconds, noticing his body language and the way he spoke about the girl, it was different from all the other times the boy commented about tiktokers or videos others made about them.

"Send me a video of her, I'll take a look later. Now go upstairs, I bought us something to eat."

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Another Monday had arrived, and Y/N was looking for strength in her body to get out of bed and face another start of the week.

The thought that in a few hours, she would have a brand new Sturniolo Triplets podcast was what made her tackle her tasks.

Her eyes traveled to the time on her phone and to her notification bar every 10 minutes, as if she was expecting Nick to release the podcast earlier than usual - it was obvious that that wasn't going to happen.

After last Saturday, where she had woken up to a comment from none other than Christopher Sturniolo, her weekend was complete madness.

She spent hours staring at the little comment as her mind tried to process whether she was actually awake or still asleep and in a very good dream.

"loved the idea! it's noted ;)"

"it's noted"? What did that even mean? Did he actually write down her idea for future use? Should she be prepared to wake up some other day and see that he has launched a new collection with something she suggested in one of her videos?

And what made her go crazy the most was that Chris Sturniolo had seen her face, and not only that, he found her attractive enough and her idea creative enough to watch it until the end.

She spent almost the entire previous two days waiting for him to comment again, or even like one of her videos, but that didn't happen. Instead, Y/N received thousands of comments from fans going crazy with her about what happened. At least she had a good laugh with them.

Now, she was in her bedroom, the light from the movie playing on the TV was the only source of illumination. Y/N was lying in her bed, already in her pajamas and with her pre-bed cup of cappuccino on her lap, keeping her legs warm, her eyes on the television, but her mind somewhere else.

The sound of the YouTube notification came from her phone and Y/N had never moved so quickly, her hand taking the device out of her bedside table and unlocking the screen while muting the television, clicking on it with her thumb without even looking at the other notifications.

Her fingers worked on increasing the volume and screen brightness, setting it to the best resolution and getting comfortable on her bed, preparing to stay in that position for the next hour.

The podcast was already at minute 35, and Y/N felt her cheeks hurting from how much she was laughing at the topics brought up by the boys. Nick was especially funny that day, making Chris and Matt laugh at every moment.

In addition to the senseless fights that would arise between the three of them out of nowhere, which made Y/N roll her eyes playfully, already accustomed to their way with each other.

Until her big smile was replaced by an expression of a mixture of fright and surprise.

"Can we take a moment to talk about the intense crush Chris developed this weekend?" Nick interrupted Matt's laughter, taking a sip of his Doctor Pepper.

Chris turned abruptly to his brother, his eyes wide at the comment as he shook his head, almost begging through telepathy for him not to talk about that.

"It's true, Chris spent the weekend obsessing over a fan of ours who makes videos on TikTok with different ideas for our channel." Matt agreed, looking briefly at Nick while his hands moved the microphone support, pressing his lips together as he tried to suppress his laughter at Chris's reaction.

"Yeah, she is super pretty, and her ideas are very interesting. I think I only saw her profile once, but I listened to all her videos through Chris's phone." Nick continued, raising his right hand and directing his palm towards Chris, pretending to cover his figure with it and ignoring his desperate expression. "He literally spent the entire weekend watching her."

"Her name is Y/N. Search for her guys. We might even use one of her ideas on our next podcast." Matt added, his voice coming out low despite his mouth being almost glued to the microphone.

"You guys are horrible, I hate you." Despite the distance, the camera lens that focused on Chris's image captured his red cheeks as he tried to suppress a smile at the thought of the girl who took over his thoughts, rolling his eyes to his brothers.

"Now he will be silent for the next 10 minutes." Nick continued, amusement in his voice as he picked up his Space Camp watermelon lip balm, playing with the object in his hands.

"He's in love Nick, give him some credit." Matt mocked alongside the oldest triplet, a small smile on his face as his eyes watched his brother's reaction.

"Okay, next topic." Chris interrupted loudly, his voice cracking with embarrassment. He raised his arms and moved them from side to side exasperatedly, earning laughter from the other two, before Nick briefly passed his eyes on the document open on his laptop, starting the next topic.

"Oh my God." Y/N whispered, clicking once on the screen and dragging the small ball in the bottom bar to the left, going back a few minutes of the podcast and rewatching that specific part.

The girl repeated that action at least three more times, her brain still processing that Chris Sturniolo had been watching her TikToks all weekend - as if she were some kind of famous artist - and that, apparently, he was developing a mini crush on her as well.

Her heart was beating too fast to be normal as her cheeks burned, a red tinge taking over her skin. Goosebumps ran through her body as her fingers trembled slightly. Her jaw was already hurting from the time she held her mouth open, but no sound escaped from it.

A notification suddenly appearing at the top of the screen caught her eye, her right hand instantly flying to her mouth while her left hand lowered her phone, resting the device on her mattress.

Her eyes were now fixed on the wall in front of her bed, as her mind screamed at herself.

christopherturniolo sent you a direct message.

"hey!"

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My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷💋

Also, again, I'm thinking of making a tag list for my Sturniolo Triplets x reader, so if you want to be included in it and be tagged on every Sturniolo x reader that I post, comment here please! 🩷

Asked tags: @lustfulslxt @soimightlikeoldmen69 @p1xieswrld @lovrejoana

#x reader #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #sturniolo #love #imagine #chris sturniolo fanfiction #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher owen sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris x reader #chris fanfic #chris au #chris #fangirl #fangirl!reader #fan reader #tiktoker!reader #fandom #youtuber #request #fluff #cut the camera podcast

[theemporium]

mat and reader having a tradition? After every win they get a strawberry milkshake or something? something just between them? and maybe if reader cannot go with him, she gets someone to buy one ?

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“I miss you.”

It hadn’t been the first time he had said it since you had called him after his game, and you doubted it would be his last either. But it made your heart swoon, nonetheless. 

“I miss you too,” you murmured back, your cheek pressed against the pillow as you glanced at him on your phone. It was propped up on your bedside table, leaning against your lamp so you could lay comfortably in bed as you spoke. “But you guys are killing it on the roadie. Two wins, huh?” 

His lips twitched. “Yeah, but they’d be better if you were in the crowd.” 

“What, sitting at home decked out in Islander number thirteen merch wasn’t enough?” You teased, deciding to withhold the part where you ordered a shit ton of team merchandise from your boyfriend. 

All in all, your relationship with Mat was still fairly new. Being a hockey player with an insane schedule wasn’t ideal for starting a new relationship, so despite knowing each other for the better part of a year, it took a few months before you decided to make it official. 

And Mat had played away games since making it official, but this time it just hit harder. 

Maybe it was because it was his longest roadie yet. Or maybe it was because you finally felt like you and Mat were starting to get into the swing of things, that natural flow that clicked when the relationship felt stable enough. Or maybe it was simply because you missed the boy, because your love for him was growing with each day.

But after getting so used to sleeping at each other’s apartment, the empty bed had been particularly upsetting to return to every night since he had been gone.

“It was more than enough, baby,” Mat replied with a fond smile on his face, thinking back to the photo you sent him of you bundled up on the couch with his jersey on. “But it feels wrong not celebrating wins the proper way.” 

The proper way being with a cold, full-fat strawberry milkshake the two of you would get from a local diner—one that his trainers would definitely drop dead if they saw him stepping into. It was reserved only for wins, for a celebration between the two of you. And just like you, he knew it wasn’t the first time he won an away game and couldn’t share a milkshake with you, but it hit harder knowing that he couldn’t have it this time.

“Hm, what do you mean?”

His brows furrowed together in confusion. “What?”

“I think we are celebrating the proper way,” you replied with a nonchalant shrug, half-burying your face in your pillow to hide the grin growing on your face. 

Mat’s confusion only grew and, much to your amusement, he looked partially offended. Almost like he couldn’t quite believe you had forgotten your shared tradition. 

“I—” Mat started before he was cut off by the sound of someone knocking on his door.

He disappeared from the screen for a few moments and you used the time to set yourself up. You sat up on the bed, leaning back against the headboard and letting the duvet fall to your waist to expose one of his hoodies you had stolen from his wardrobe a few weeks ago. You waited for him to return, an eager smile on your face.

“Baby,” his voice was so sweet and fond as he returned to the camera, holding a milkshake in his hand with a cheesy grin on his face.

“Surprise!” You grinned, leaning over to pick up the milkshake that had been sitting out of shot since you had been on the phone to him. “It’s not the same as the diner but—”

“It’s perfect,” Mat finished for you, his cheeks looking a little rosier than before. “I can’t believe you set this up.” 

“I wanted to celebrate properly with my boy to show him how proud I am,” you replied simply, watching as his expression brightened at the use of ‘my boy’. 

“I can’t fucking wait to kiss you.” 

“Me too, babe. Me too.”

.

#mat barzal #nhl #new york islanders #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal x you #mat barzal x y/n #mat barzal fic #mat barzal one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

[darkwolf989]

Outside the office

Longtime reader and writer. First time poster! Let me know what you think- I have pages of this story to share if there is any interest. <3 Enjoy!

“Vox, these pancakes are the best!” 

Another sleepy Sunday morning at home. Or at least, the place I called home these days. My arrival to hell six years ago had left me uneasy- displaced from the only world I had ever known. Upon my arrival, Lucifer immediately deposited me in one of the biggest power circles in Hell. With a kiss on the cheek and a warning to behave- lest I end up like my mother and father- he disappeared, off to running hell or heaven- I honestly wasn’t sure at this point.  

“Not better than mine though, right Princessa?” Valentino’s voice rang with teasing disapproval. 

I caught his eye and grinned. “I don’t know. Last I checked you didn’t put strawberries AND chocolate chips in your pancakes.”

“Take that!” Vox semi shouted. “Even your wife agrees I’m the better cook!” 

Lighthearted bickering broke out between the two of them. I caught the eye of Velvette, the only other girl in our group and she rolled her eyes, as amused as I was.

I wouldn't have guessed when I first arrived in hell that these three demons would eventually be the family I had left behind. Upon my arrival in hell, Lucifer warned that that these demons were three of the most powerful overlords in this ring of hell. Coming from a world where demons were slaughtered on sight- and the opposite held true for angels- meeting a demon off the battlefield for the first time took every inch of my self control to not allow the instincts I worked so hard to develop to overtake me. 

When I first met Vox, I was taken aback. For a demon, he was surprisingly friendly. According to Lucifer, he controlled the television airwaves and heavily utilized video and electricity to exert control over a host of sinners. Walking into his studio for the first time felt like stepping into energy territory- at least until the demon spoke. 

“First time meeting a demon?” Vox seemed amused. “Nothing to be afraid of, I assure you. At least, not for you Princess.” He extended his hand and I shook it out of politeness. His twisted smile grew wider, revealing a set of sharp teeth. “Don’t worry your highness, we will take excellent care of her.” 

Lucifer looked unconcerned. “You know the consequences if you don’t.” His phone rang and he looked at the caller ID. “Sorry to rush out on you, but I have a meeting to get to. Ensure you follow through on your end of the bargain.” His eyes flashed red, a non verbal “or else”.

“Of course,” Vox replied smoothly. “We have her living quarters all set up- she’s welcome to settle in after I give her the grand tour. And don’t worry- our resident fashionista will help her…blend in.” He reached out as if to push my hair to the side but stopped himself. “She’s in excellent hands, your highness.” 

Lucifer looked unconcerned. A cold fear settled in my gut, followed by anger. He was leaving me? In the hands of this…creature? 

“See you later darling. Enjoy all Hell has to offer.” He leaned over and kissed my cheek before he vanished,  leaving me in the sole company of the TV demon. 

“Before we go any further, I need your phone.” Vox reached his hand out. 

I hesitated but pulled my pink flip phone out of my pocket and handed it to him. He dropped it on the ground and crushed it beneth his foot. 

“Hey! Why did you do that?” I demanded. 

“That technology? Ancient and easy to hack. Here. I preloaded Lucifers number, our numbers and that’s honestly the only contacts you need. Not only that, its the latest model. The public won’t have access to it until next month.” He handed me a rectangular shaped phone. 

“And this.” he handed me a matching pink watch. “Don’t take it off. It allowed me to know your vitals and your location at all times. If something was to happen to you, we could easily get to you.” 

Wouldn’t that be the first thing they took off? I wondered but didn’t say it. Vox  hit a few buttons and showed me how to unlock it just by looking at the screen. After a few minutes of playing with it, I started to grasp the concept. 

“Lucifer wasn’t lying when he said you were smart. Come. Follow me.” 

Vox turned to walk away and I trailed behind him.

“Well, might as well show you around. Couple things to be aware of. Obviously as Princess of Hell you can do as you please but know that Valentino's studio, Velvette’s  runway and my office are strictly for business. Enter at the wrong time and you may end up seeing things that…you’re not quite used to.” 

He pressed a button and an elevator door slid open. I stepped inside and I followed, standing quietly next to him. The sense of unease hadn’t left me since the moment I arrived in hell and the further into the building I ventured the deeper that fear became. 

“First floor is the entry. Second is my office and studio. Third and fourth belong to Val’s workspace and the fifth floor belongs to Velvette. The Sixth floor is our living space- that’s where you’ll be joining us. Your quarters are up there as well. Living room and kitchen are shared spaces, though we all value the privacy of our own bedrooms.” He smiled a bit darkly. “You’re welcome to join us for movie night.” 

Since when did demons watch movies? 

The elevator dinged to three and I stepped out behind him. The scene infront of us was pure chaos. Demons in various shapes, forms and stages of dress hustled around the open room. Clothes and racks were scattered about, being tossed aside and rehung quicker that I thought possible.  Against a white backdrop, three models stood as lightbulbs went off around them. 

Unlike Vox with his TV shaped head,  the demon in charge looked relatively human. Her purple, red and black hair was pulled up high in two ponytails- teased and curled to perfection. Her clothes boated the same color scheme as her hair, and she wore impossibly high black heels. It took me a moment to realize her color scheme was the same as Vox’s. 

I watched her bark orders in a way that would have made my father proud. As she spoke, her perfectly manicured fingers flew across the keyboard of her phone. I felt myself flush, suddenly overly aware of my own broken fingernails and very clear out of fashion clothing. 

Vox seemed undisturbed by the hustle, walking through it with ease.“Velvettle darling, meet the Princess.” 

She looked up for a moment and her expression twisted in what looked like annoyance.

“You got a name, Princess?”

They both looked at me expectantly. I felt my face flush with embarrassment. Had Lucifer really dropped me off to total strangers without so much as sharing my name?

“My name is reader.” I answered with a steadiness I didn’t quite feel in my gut. “Morningstar.” 

“Well, reader,  if this is how heaven is dressing these days you need more help than I thought.” She snorted in contempt. “Don’t worry love, we’ll get you fixed up in no time. After all, if you’re spending time with us you need to look the part.”

Vox grinned. “Have fun you two. Vel, be a dear and bring her upstairs when you’re done.” 

She turned away. “Yeah, yeah. You don’t need to tell me what to do.” She snapped her fingers. “Get to it.” 

Without another word I was whisked away into another room. Any sense of modesty vanished as Velvette's team inspected every inch of my body. Unlike the angels, they had no shame in ensuring I was plucked, waxed, and trimmed to Velvette’s desire. With all the strange hands touching me I felt trapped, and did my best to disassociate. I had to if I wanted to survive down here. Wasn’t that my fathers first rule? Show no fear. 

Velvette must have noticed my discomfort. After the waxing she shooed everyone away for a moment and handed me a bottle of water. 

“Don’t worry love, you’ll get used to it. Quicker, actually if you’re here with us.” 

I held the bottle and she rolled her eyes, reaching over and twisting the cap open. “No one here will hurt you. Outside of Lucifer’s domain, this is the safest place in all of hell for you. Promise. Now drink- I don’t want to be on the receiving end of Lucifer’s wrath if you fall ill on the first day.” 

I took a sip and she turned the chair I was in towards the mirror, running her fingers through my blonde hair. “You need some deep conditioning, a style and a few highlights, but your overall color is fantastic. You have a lovely shape- for a half angel. And those eyes…” She stepped around and cupped my chin. “Lovely. No one in hell has blue eyes like those.” 

“Thank you.” I replied softly. 

Velvette grinned. “Well look, the princess speaks! Look, let’s finish up here and get your wardrobe set up and sent up. Val is taking us out tonight, and you need to look the part. It would be an embarrassment to our brand otherwise.” She snapped her fingers and a team of demons hurried over.

“Who is Val?” I asked as she leaned back against the counter, watching her employees work. 

“Valentino. You’ll meet him soon enough. Right pain in the ass he is. Love him though.” 

Right. Lucifer warned me about him. Valentino controlled the porn industry in the same way Vox controlled the broadcasts and Velvette controlled fashion and social media. I couldn’t even imagine what my father would think if he knew...I pushed the thought from my head. My father was gone. This was my reality now. 

“And you three- Vox, Velvette, Valentino- you’re…royalty?” I asked to fill the silence. 

She laughed. “Royalty? Not far off. We’re overlords. We own millions of souls between the three of us.”

That nervous feeling rekindled in my stomach. “You own souls? What does that mean?”

Velvette shrugged. “It means mortals in the human realm, or sinners down here made a deal with us in exchange for their souls. And we collected.” 

If there wasn’t a pair of scissors next to my ear I would have jumped away. Owning souls? How did that even happen? Moreso that went against everything an angel stood for. Or at least, everything my angelic half used to stand for.

“Oh relax, your soul is safe.” Velvette snorted at my expression. “Lucifer would kill anyone who even attempted to make a move on your eternal being. Trust me dear, you have nothing to worry about. At least, not from us.”

Across the studio, someone yelled her name and she pranced off without so much as a goodbye. 

What felt like an eternity later, I was led to the elevator by Velvette. My blonde hair had indeed been trimmed and highlighted, blown out and teased. My broken fingernails were hidden under tiny plastic red surfboards and my normally bare face was covered in makeup. 

“Just come down to my studio each morning. I’ll get you dressed and done up. Nothing to worry about.” Velvette assured me as we stepped out of the elevator. 

I wasn’t quite sure what to expect when I tried to imagine where demons lived, but the room I stepped into was the exact opposite of anything I could have dreamed up. Dark hardwood floors were covered with plush rugs in deep blues, blacks and reds.  Couches on the left were placed in a U shape in front of a large TV and to the right was a full kitchen.Towering floor to ceiling windows covered the far wall and a table with six office chairs sat in front of it. Towards the left there were five hallways and  small alcoves scattered throughout the room hosted signs of the floor's inhabitants. Photos of the V’s, computer setups, a notebook with scribbles and swatches of fabric, to name a few items. 

“You’re the fifth hallway down,” Velvette said, leading me towards the left. “If you get lost, look up. They’re labeled.” 

I looked up towards the doorway entrance of each and sure enough, the names Valentino, Vox, blank, Velvette and Princess were labeled.

“Why is mine labeled Princess?” I asked as she led me down that hallway. “You couldn’t have had that much time to design.”

Velvette laughed. “Took hardly anytime at all. The boss man sent us a list and cash- we obliged. Your comfort here is of upmost importance.” She pushed open a second door and stepped inside.

I expected dark colors, blacks and reds but to my surprise the room was decorated in a sea of purples, grays and whites. A bed took up the center of the room and off to the left was a small living room area- complete with matching couches and a television. A desk with a pink computer set up sat to the right of the bed. The three doors on the remaining walls led to the walk in closet and bathroom, Velvette explained. 

“Anything else you need? Kitchen is stocked. If you need something, write it on the whiteboard on the fridge. Housekeeping will bring it up.” Velvette continued. “Same with bathroom products or anything really. We want to make sure you’re happy. Oh!” She snapped her fingers and pushed open one of the doors. “Your public clothes are in my studio- along with everyone else’s. Except mine, of course. I dress myself. But in our space comfort is important. I personally chose the loungewear in your closet. Not that you can leave the building but when you’re ready to get dressed in the morning, come down to my studio and we’ll get you taken care of.” Her eyes narrowed. “Loungewear shouldn’t be seen anywhere except up here and my studio. Understood?”

“Yes, thank you. This is lovely.” Lovely was an understatement. This place was a place compared to my fathers house. 

Velvette shrugged. “Just want to make sure you feel at home Princess. Come now, I’m sure Val and Vox are ready to go.” 

“Go where, again?” I asked, following her back down the hallway and to the elevator. 

She hit the button and stepped in. “Dinner. I’m starved, I can’t believe you’re not. And Val always picks the best places.”

Lucifer hadn’t said anything about the food down here. I wondered what exactly demons ate and a shiver ran up my spine. Babies, probably. Or corpses. Maybe small animals? The phone in my pocket vibrated and I opened up the text just as the elevator door opened. I followed Velvette into the lobby I had entered earlier, keeping my eyes on my phone. 

“Settling in alright love?” The sender name read “Uncle Lucy”. 

Cute. He was as much of an Uncle to me as Vox was my boyfriend. Still, maybe he could answer my questions.  What do demons eat? I typed back furiously. 

Three little dots appeared at the bottom of my screen and his answer popped up. 

Depends. Is Valentino choosing the place? Or Vox?

Valentino, I typed back. 

Three little dots and then, Steak most likely. Velvette dressed you?

I stared at the phone and typed back. Steak? Made of what, exactly?

What is steak made of in the angelic realm? Cow?

I scowled at the phone. I thought demons ate babies. And each other.

His response was instantaneous. LOL. Oh my sweet, that is something I would have warned you about. Everything you eat and drink is safe as long as you’re with the V’s or myself.

Okay, I typed back. 

Be safe love. And stick close to the V’s while you’re out. This scene is much, much more different than you’re used to. 

I wanted to snap my phone shut but instead the screen went black. I sort of missed it- snapping a phone shut at the end of a call was incredibly sadifying. 

“Ah, so you must be the princessa” 

His low drawl pulled me from my thoughts and I looked up to see the red eyes of a demon I hadn’t met yet. Involuntarily, I took a step back. 

“Pleasure to meet you sweetheart.” His smile, much like the others revealed a set of sharp teeth. He stood tall, taller than even my father with a thin frame. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of heart shaped glasses. Hearts adorned the red jacket he wore, and white fluff surrounded the edges and the trim. Under he wore what looked like a black suit. He reached out and took my hand, kissing it. 

“Nice to meet you too.” I tried to hide my fear, the internal screaming to run. 

He grinned wider. “Nothing to be afraid of mi amor. You’re safe as long as you stay with us. Come now. We don’t want to be late.” 

I hesitated. “Are you sure this is safe?”

“Don’t wander out of our sight, and you won’t have to worry about it, yeah?” Velvette replied impatiently. 

Vox leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Right as usual dear.” He turned towards the entryway door, holding it open. Velvette passed through, then me, then Vox and finally Valentino. 

A deep red limo was waiting at the curb for us. Vox got in first, then Velvette. I stepped back in hesitation but a firm hand touched the small of my back. 

“After you dear. “ Valentino  bent down and whispered. “Be between us, always. It’s not safe to wander these streets.” 

At his touch, I practically jumped in and chose a seat far away from the others, taking a deep breath. I watched the dynamic in front of me unfold. Vox, between Velvette and Valentino, looked completely comfortable, chatting about what I assumed was their work. Across the limo, Valentino shot me a grin. 

“So princessa, what brings you to hell?” He asked. 

Vox and Velvette fell silent, their attention turned to me. 

“My father ordered me here.” I responded, cheeks flushing. 

From the pocket of his coat, Valentino pulled out a long cigarette and took and draw, exhaling clouds of red smoke.

“Ah. The infamous demon killer. The hypocrite who consorted with the former princess of hell and created you. Tell me, Princess. Why does he want you here after all this time? After all you are…how old?”

I felt my temper flare, but bit it back. His words wern’t exactly unture, but I didn’t like thinking about it. “I’m twenty five.” I said through gritted teeth. 

He considered this for a moment, taking another drag. “Twenty five. That’s a long time to live away from half of yourself.”

“Val.” Vox interjected in a warning tone. One of his red eyes began to swirl. “Enough with the questions. We’re thrilled to have her here.”

“Of course we are.” He smiled. “Just making conversation, wondering why now, after all this time we’ve decided to…ah, explore ourselves.” 

“I go where I am told.” I retorted. 

His grin became wider. “Always?”

Thankfully at that moment the limo stopped and the door opened. This time, Valentino stepped out first. Vox gestured to me and I followed him out. The building in front of us was small, and brightly lit. I followed Valentino inside, Vox close behind me. 

The inside looked like a normal restaurant. We were seated immediately in a back room, and with the exception of the fact that the waiters looked like different demons, it seemed no different than someplace I would have dined at back home. 

Valentino ordered for the table and in moments I was presented with dinner. I studied it while the others dug in. Lucifer was probably right. What was on my plate looked like steak, definitely smelled like it too. Lucifer told me it was safe to eat. And truth be told- I was starving. I took a tiny bite, relieved that my dinner partners didn’t seem to pay much attention to me. It tasted fine, but I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that washed over me. I took a few more bites, then set my fork down. I just couldn’t shake my nerves. 

“That was great Val,” Vox leaned back in his chair. “What do you say we call it a night and head back?”

“Lame.” Velvette snorted. “The world needs to see the outfits I worked so hard to design. These nightly outings are not just for Val you know.”

Valentino took a long drag of his ciggarette and exhaled a trail of red smoke, looking at me and grinning. “Besides, we need to show the angel what a good time in hell looks like.” He stood up, and the others followed en-suite. Vox stepped aside, ensuring he was behind me as I followed them back to the limo. 

“Have you ever drank alcohol before, babe?” Valentino asked, stretching his arms out on the seat behind me. He didn’t make physicl contact, but he was close enough to make me uneasy. 

“Of course. I can go shot for shot with the most hardened angels.” I said defensively.

“Huh. Didn’t know angels drank.” Vox interjected thoughtfully as the limo pulled up to the next location. “Well good- then this should be a fun night.” 

The number 666 flashed in purple above the building. I hesitated. It looked like a club, and that wasn’t a scene I was allowed to explore. Behind me, Vox gave me a gentle nudge and with no other choice, I trailed behind Valentino as he bypassed the impossibly long line. As we crossed the dance floor, demons skittered out of his way. 

“It’s my club,” he said loudly as he led us to the back, half circle table. “Anything you need babe, its all yours.”

I slid in with Vox on one side and Velvette on the other. Instantly a demon appeared with four drinks, setting them on the table in front of us. 

“Just stick within eyesight of us and you’ll be fine.” Vox assured me.

“Cheers.” Valentino raised his glass to me. “To your visit to hell.” 

I took a sip. It was absolutely intoxicating and before I knew it, all four glasses were empty. Another round appeared instantly. Relief from my terror washed over me and I lost count after the second drink. Flashes of the dance floor, Velvette spinning me around. Shots handed to me by Vox and the four of us slamming them down. 

The room spun but the feeling of freedom and liberation wrapped around me like a star dusted blanket. As time passed, I somehow I found myself across the dance floor, far out of sight of my keepers. 

“To you, pretty lady.” A shark-like demon looked me up and down, and  handed me a pink and fuzzy drink. 

Too drunk to remember to not, I took the drink with a smile and downed it in one gulp. The shark demon laughed and took a step forward. 

“Now, how will you show your appreciation pretty thing?” he reached out and touched my shoulder. 

I flinched, and tried to take a step back but stumbled, trying to look back for any of the V’s.  Fuck, this wasn’t good. 

“There you are, princessa.” Valentino’s sharp voice floated behind me. “Looks like you can’t keep up with demons after all.” 

The shark demon paled and I couldn’t see if he left or not. I felt Valentino’s arm slide under mine as he guided me back to his table. My body, no longer in control of itself, leaned into his red jacket, my head resting its full weight on his shoulder. 

“Jesus Val, how much did you give her?” 

Could have been Vox or Velvette who asked. I couldn’t tell. I felt claws cup my chin and force my head up. Valentino’s eyes met mine and he sighed, letting my head fall against him. 

“Apparently, the princessa didn’t watch her drinks closely enough. Vox, take this please.” 

I caught sight of Valentino standing up and Vox took his place, guiding my head to his shoulder. The room felt loud, and somewhere in the distance, I could have sworn I heard a gunshot. 

“Hey hey, stay awake until Val gets back.” Vox shook my shoulder. “Ah shit. Lucifer’s going to be pissed.” 

I wasn’t quite sure how I ended up with my head on Valentino’s lap, or how I was totally fine with him stroking my hair. 

“Shits just got to work it's way out of her system,” I heard him explain. “Time is the only cure.” 

I tried to lift my head but found it too heavy for more than a few inches. Valentino’s hand pushed it back down. 

“It’s my fault.” I whispered. “I drank too much, too fast. I took a drink from an…I don’t know what, drinks aren’t spiked in heaven!”

I heard the three of them laugh. 

“Sounds like you need a lesson in club safety love.” Velvette looked up from her phone. 

“Maybe we don’t tell Uncle Lucy. Let’s keep this between us?” I mumbled and  shifted my body ever so slightly. 

Valentino rolled me back on my side, “If you say so, dear.” 

I felt the limo stop and tried my best to sit up. After a few seconds of letting me struggle, Valentino lifted me up and out of the limo. 

“I can walk.” I said protested blearily. 

“Oh, you can?” 

Valentino set me down and I immediately pitched forward. He caught me with ease and back in his arms I went. I closed my eyes .

The next thing I knew I was curled up on my side with sunlight streaming into my eyes. With a groan, I sat up. My head pounded.

“Rough first night dear?” 

I opened my eyes to see Lucifer sitting on a chair next to my bed, punching away on his phone. I looked down at myself. Gone were my club clothes from last night, replaced with a pair of soft purple pajamas. I wondered briefly how I had managed to get myself changed so neatly. 

“It wasn’t their fault.” I answered after a few seconds. “Ugh, my head.” 

He seemed unperturbed. “I’m well aware. Free choice and all that- I invented it, remember? Can’t hold them accountable- you chose to accept a drink from a stranger and well, Valentino himself held the stranger accountable.” 

“Fuck me. So…what are the consequences?” I mumbled, leaning forward and covering my head with my hands.

Lucifer paused. “Consequences? Isn’t being rendered totally unable to protect yourself your first night in hell enough? I’m not your father, dear.” He stood up. “What I can tell you is the cameras show half your bad decisions last night were due to drinking on an empty tummy. Can you explain why that is?” 

I didn’t answer. He walked over and lifted my chin so our eyes met. “If you don’t trust the four of us, you won’t make it down here. You have to eat. And drink. Same as you did up there.” 

I nodded and he sighed and sat down next to me. “I’m aware this is difficult- it’s new, and your father and I have torn you away to this place that is the  opposite of everything you’ve ever known. But despite all of heaven's propaganda, there is good down here too. You just have to be more careful.” 

“Yes, Lucifer.”

He broke out into a grin. “I think I prefer Uncle Lucy. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?” 

I didn’t answer, embarrassment  joining the pain I felt. 

He patted my leg. “The good news is, you’re only suffering from a hangover. Unfortunately for you the cure is the same in heaven and hell. Hydration, food, anti inflammatories and rest.” 

He stood up and his phone rang. His voice changed from sweet to sharp and several harsh words later, he hung up. 

“I need to go. Chances are you’ll be back out on the club scene tonight. Let’s hope you’ve learned your lesson- stick close to the V’s. And listen to them. I made it clear that they can tell you what to do. Your responsibility is to follow through. Understood?” 

I nodded and he touched the top of my head with a knowing smile. Instantly, my headache vanished.

“Hot shower. Water. Food. It won’t stay away if you don’t give your body those things. I’ll touch base with you later, love.” 

He vanished a second later. I stared at the blank space and wondered if he was the only one down here who could do that. I pushed the thought from my head and willed myself out of bed. Lucifer may have made the headache vanish, but the body aches remained. I made my way into the bathroom.

The shower alone was the size of my room at home and it took me a good fifteen minutes to find a simple water pressure setting. I let myself sink into the steam and scrubbed clean every inch of my body. Finally, I stepped out and wrapped myself in an oversized towel. Standing in front of the mirror I studied my reflection as I towel dried my hair. Without Velvette’s make up, I looked like my usual self. 

The door creaked open and I scrambled for another towel. 

“Hello! No thank you!”

“What? Its not like we didn’t see everything last night,” Vox’s voice answered as he stepped in, closing the door behind him. “How do you think you ended up in those pajamas?”

“It doesn’t matter,” I hissed, covering myself quickly. 

He laughed “modesty is overrated. Down here, you’ll learn that soon enough. Look, I know Lucifer told you but Val made breakfast before he had to rush off to work. It’s in your best interest to eat something before that headache he cured comes rushing back. Oh, and drink this.” He set a bottle of bright orange liquid down on the counter. “Courtesy of the brilliant minds of Vee and Val. It’ll help I promise.” 

He turned to walk out, the paused. “I’m the last one to leave, which means you have the living room to yourself. Do as you wish as long as you take care of yourself. Don’t try to leave the building, and while you can visit my workspace or Vel’s, I’d suggest steering clear of Val. After last night, he’s in a pretty pissy mood.” 

I must have looked mortified because Vox laughed. “Not at you dear. Others that didn’t do their jobs. Still, his temper is a nasty one. I’d recommend avoiding it at all costs.” 

“Noted.” I said shakily. 

“Oh, Princess? Just a reminder. Floors two and five are where you want to go for Vel and I.” 

And with that he walked out. I took a sip of the drink he left and quickly swallowed the rest. To his credit, he was right- I felt much better almost instantly. I wrapped my hair up and from the vast closet I pulled a pair of soft blue pajamas and matching slippers. I made my way out to the shared kitchen and found a heart shaped sticky note on the table next to another bottle of the orange liquid.

Breakfast is in the fridge. Drink this after. If you have a hard time with the TV, text Vox. He’ll get you set up. 

-VVV

I opened the fridge and another heart shaped pink sticky note greeted me. 

“Eat every bite. If cold, microwave ten seconds.” 

I uncovered the plate, hoping it was something normal. Something I could eat. Something that wouldn’t inadvertently turn my stomach. And to my delight, I found what looked to be two homemade strawberry waffles. I put them in the microwave and sat down at the table, taking a bite. 

It was the yummiest thing I had ever tasted. 

I finished the entire thing in record time and, taking the bottle of orange drink, I made myself comfortable on the couch. Although the headache was gone, my entire body felt achy- like I was getting over the flu. I flipped mindlessly through the channels as I finished the drink. Sleepiness washed over me and I felt myself start to drift. 

The quiet ping of the elevator arriving startled me back awake. 

“I see we’re alive.” Velvette saunted across the floor and hung over the back of the couch. “Feeling alright?”

I pulled myself up right. “Better- what time is it?”

“Time for you to go downstairs and get ready- we have another big night out. This one features the press, so we need time to make you perfect.” she answered. “Throw on a robe and meet me down in ten. Oh, and there's more of that orange drink in the fridge. Can’t hurt to have another bottle. Or at least water.”

She sauntered off and I heard the elevator ping again. In truth, I did feel better- almost like nothing had happened. The aches had almost completely vanished. Back in my room I pulled on a pink fuzzy robe and made my way down the stairs. 

Velvette greeted me with a wave and upon my entrance, a horde of demons descended on me. The process didn’t take nearly as long as it had the day before, and by the time Velvette walked up to me the finishing touches were being put onto my makeup. 

“You look great. Much better than you did this morning. Come on now, we have to meet Val and Vox out. You slept longer than we guessed- not that its a big deal. But come on, the car is waiting.”

I followed her out the door and listened to her chatter away while she typed. I checked my phone and saw I had a few missed texts. One from Lucifer, checking in. That was easy, I shot him a quick I’m fine. The second one from Vox- again, asking me how I was, followed by a text informing me he confirmed on the camera I wasn’t dead- and he would see me later. The last text was from Valentino. 

Glad to hear you liked breakfast. Hope you enjoy dinner- let’s not have a repeat of last night, shall we? -Val 

“Valentino is a little scary.” I said out loud. 

Velvette looked up at me and laughed. “He’s only scary if you’re on his bad side- and if you’re worthless to him. Trust me babe, you have no reason to be afraid of him. Not after last night.” 

“What was so different about last night?” I asked curiously. 

She barked a laugh. “Vox is the one with a soft side. Valentino? He leaves drunk bitches in the ditch- he doesn’t lay them on his lap and he certainly doesn’t kill for them.” 

“He’s just afraid, because of who Lucifer is.” I replied uneasily. 

She shrugged. “Could be. Wouldn’t test it though. He can be nasty.”

The porn demon- nasty? That was probably the most mild of terms I could think of. More questions bubbled in my mind. How did they come to own souls? What other lies had heaven fed me- lies I considered to be true? I sat in silence, trying to bring up the courage to ask Velvette myself. I had just about convinced myself to do it when the limo stopped.  

I followed Velvette outside and she marched in the door like she owned the place. Once again, we were whisked to the back of what looked like a normal restaurant. In minutes, dinner was in front of us. I looked down at the pasta dish in front of me and spun my fork in it. It looked normal- and it smelled fantastic. Cautiously, I took a bite as  I listened to Vox complain about technology and a newscaster who ticked him off. Velvette responded by suggesting the use of one of her top models. Valentino was strangely silent, watching as I carefully took another bite. 

“Look at that, already taking a step in the right direction.” He winked at me. “Not up for a repeat of last night, mi amor?” 

I felt my cheeks flush red and his grin grew wider. “Good to see you enjoying your food, princessa.” He turned to Vox casually. “Just put something inside them. That’s how I get the bitches to behave.” 

What did that mean? I wondered. After a few minutes, my plate was empty and Valentino stood up. 

“Shall we? I have another busy night.” he announced. We followed ensuite back out to the limo. I waited behind Valentino, placed carefully between him and Velvette. 

Valentino paused and took a step back. “After you, princessa.” 

“Thanks.” I stepped inside and took my usual place against the far wall. Unlike last night, Valentino sat next to me, keeping a much shorter but still respectful distance. I felt a shiver go up my spine and a strange feeling in my belly as I listened to him chat with Velvette and Vox. 

The ride to the club felt shorter than the night before. The shock of the club scene had dissipated and I followed close behind Valentino. Tonight it felt less like walking into a war zone. Not only did everyone make way for Valentino, everyone made space for me. Back in the same booth I made sure to sip my drink when it came, less I end up as much of a mess as I did the night before. 

With sober eyes I watched the scene unfold. Valentino seemed to know everyone, and those he didn’t know Vox or Vel did. Frequently two left the table, leaving one behind. Visitors came up- demon men and women. Val either invited them for a drink or dismissed them with a wave of his hand. At one point he got up and disappeared into the back of the club, reemerging several hours later with a grin on his face. 

“Shall we dance mi corazon?” He asked, extending his hand. 

I hesitated and he leaned forward. “I won’t let anything happen to you, princessa. Come.” 

I took his hand and he led me to the dance floor. Not to my suprise, he took the lead. I surrendered myself to him and the beat of the music as he spun and swung me around. I lost track of time under the flashing lights and it wasn’t until he slipped his arm under me and led me back to the table that I realized how long we had been away from the table. 

He grabbed a nearby waiter and pointed to me. “Water for this one.” he turned to me. “I’ll be back princessa- stay here. And drink water.” 

I watched him vanish across the dancefloor and sipped at the water the waiter brought me. After that was finished, I ordered a redbull and vodka- hoping it would give me the energy I needed to stay awake. As the minutes passed and my soberness disappeared, the demons on the dancefloor seemed to swim and I wondered how I had managed to stay afloat as long as I had the night before. A sudden rush of tiredness washed over me and I turned to Vox, who was lounging casually next to me 

“When is the last call?”

“When Valentino says it is.” he responded carelessly. 

Great. I swapped from vodka back to water and watched as Velvette and Vox took turns out the floor. Several times I trailed after Vox for a song or two, but he ensured I was safely back at the table before either going back out or swapping places with Velvette. After a few rounds of this, I switched back to vodka, which allowed me to relax for the first time since my arrival. 

After some time passed Valentino returned, looking as pleased as ever. 

“Last call for us darlings,” he purred, offering his hand to me. Vox did the same to Velvette and together the four of us walked out of the bar. 

Though not nearly as bad as I had been, Velvette had the busy night and she spent the ride pressed into Vox. Valentino got himself comfortable and looked at me. 

“You alright baby doll? You’re quiet.” he moved his body closer to mine and his arm fell against my shoulder as he took another drag from his cigarette, exhaling a stream of red smoke. “Tired?”

I nodded and he pulled me to his side. “Lay your head down baby- I think we passed the awkward phase last night hm?” 

My head buzzed just enough that I could forget that he was a demon and that I should be terrified of him. My head fell against his shoulder and he ran a hand through my hair. 

“That’s it sweetheart. Nothing to be afraid of.” he cooed as he exhaled another trail of red smoke. “Close your eyes.”

Against my instinct, I felt my eyelids grow heavy and the weight of my head fell onto his shoulder. He shifted my body and wrapped an arm around my waist. I tried to fight sleep as my head fell to his chest, against the steady beating of his heart. He was relaxed, so why wasn’t I?

I woke up as we pulled up to the VVV tower. Velvette, having solidly fallen asleep on Vox was carried up to the elevator first. Valentino offered his hand as I stepped out of the limo. He kept a steady arm around me as we walked towards the elevator. 

“You have nothing to fear, mi amor.” he purred. “We are not the monsters you think that we are.” 

The last thing I remembered was being tucked into my bed and a soft hand pushing the hair out of my eyes.

#valentino x reader #the vees #vox x reader #valentino x you #valentino x wife

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Aftermath || LN4 {Epilogue}

Pairing: Lando Norris x widow!reader Summary: Equilibrium is found and the new year brings more than just one new beginning. Warnings: 18+ only, smut, fluff, pregnancy, mentions of dad!PND WC: 2.7k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten || Eleven || Twelve || Thirteen || Epilogue

Pre-season Testing - Bahrain The door to the hotel room opened and Lando’s keys jingled as he tossed them on the kitchen table before he called out to you. Following the sound of your voice, he nudged the bathroom door open wider to see the spa bath overflowing with bubbles and the candles flickered from the draft of the door.

“Hi baby,” you greeted as you tipped a few drops of lavender oil into the water.

Lando used the heel of his shoe to kick the door closed behind him before pulling his shirt over his head and crossing the tiled floor. “Hi,” he breathed across your nape as he grabbed your hips and pulled your back flush against his chest. “Is this for me?”

You tipped your head back on his shoulder and peered up at him with a lazy smile. “Only if you let me join you.”

His hands untied the bathrobe and he tugged it from your body when he stepped back, biting his lip as his eager eyes traced your body. He couldn’t undress fast enough, carelessly shoving his jeans down his legs and kicking them to the corner of the room before stepping into the bath and sighing with contentment as he submersed himself in the hot water. “Come on then, love,” he invited as he held his hand out for you, his wedding band catching the lights. “Waited all day for this.”

Lando looked completely relaxed as he rested his head back on the lip of the bath and his hands ran up the smooth expanse of your calves when you stepped in. A mischievous smile played as his lips when he reached the back of your knees and tugged. You squealed with surprise as you started to fall towards him before his large hands caught your waist and safely lowered you the rest of the way until you were straddling his hips. 

“Not funny,” you chided with a little laugh as you splashed him with water. 

He wiped away the water with a laugh before you draped your arms around his neck and kissed the short hairs along his jaw that had grown back since he shaved earlier in the morning. The last twelve hours had been long but there was a light in his eyes that had been regenerated behind the wheel of his race car in the middle eastern heat.

“I told you I won’t let you fall,” he reminded, turning his face to meet your lips.

“But then you made me fall in the hardest way,” you teased, and his face looked a little smug as you whispered, “in love.”

“Yes, I did,” he smirked. His hand wet your hair as he cupped the back of your head and drew you closer so he could deepen the kiss and you felt his body stirring beneath yours. “That’s exactly how I plan to keep you for the rest of my life.”

“Speaking of life, there’s not much longer we can keep this one secret…”

Lando’s smile grew as you sat up and the slight swell of your abdomen became more noticeable. You thought your period hadn’t returned because you were breastfeeding Ren. It wasn’t until her first birthday when the smell of the strawberry cake made you rush to the bathroom that you found out you were pregnant. Almost four months along, in fact. 

Lando had been overjoyed at the news and, once the shock wore off, you were too. 

He had been due to start weaning off his medication before the new season began but with the slight curveball his doctor had suggested waiting a while longer. It had meant letting the FIA know what he was taking since everything showed up in the drug screening but it didn’t come as a shock since he had been open with everyone about his diagnosis of postnatal depression and anxiety.

Lando had begun taking the anti-anxiety medication shortly after his sudden retirement announcement at Imola and, after a few tweaks to the dosage, he found his overactive thoughts calmed and he started to feel less like a passenger in his own body. You had your husband back and he found his confidence once more.

“So we don’t,” he said as his thumb traced one of the many stretch marks on your stomach before his eyes travelled up your body to meet yours. “You are so beautiful, my love.”

Lando’s hand drifted down over your hip and between your thighs, his thumb circling your clit until your head fell back with a soft moan. “Are you sure?” you asked before you lost all ability to think.

“That you are beautiful? Absolutely.” 

Goosebumps broke out as he teased the column of your neck with whispers of kisses, his breath warmer than the touch of his lips. “Lando…”

He pulled back and you lost yourself to his fathomless eyes as his smile faded and seriousness shaded his features. “I’m sure, love.”

Excitement at the thought of sharing the happy news had you lean forward and deepen the kiss as you rose on your knees. Lando’s hands glided over your skin to reach your hips, gripping them as he guided you down over him with a satisfied moan, your body stretching to welcome him. 

You grabbed the edge of the bath and he watched with half-lidded eyes as you slowly rode him, the water gently lapping at the marble walls of the bath. There was no rushing or haste, Renleigh was with Grandma Maria and there was no place either of you needed to be other than in this moment.

“Are you going to tell me how the car ran?” 

His lips curled up into a proud grin and the teasing circles of his thumb shifted as he applied pressure where you needed it most, your back arching in response as he tested your ability to multitask and concentrate. “She’s a rocket, love. I can’t wait to get back in there tomorrow.”

Your eyes fluttered shut at the pleasure both his body and his words gave you. His passion for racing had returned with the combination of counselling and medication and to hear it in his voice brought you an incredible amount of joy. 

“This is it,” he continued, his voice a little breathless as he felt your core tightening around him. “I have a good feeling about this year.”

Warmth spread through your body and the waves slapped at the lip of the bath as you rocked your hips faster. “Me too, baby. This is your year, I can feel it.” Your words faded to incoherent moans and your knees clamped around his hips as your pleasure peaked.

“I know what you're feeling…” Lando gave a husky chuckle as he cupped your ass with both hands and ground his hips up into you with his own release. “All me, baby.”

The bath water was nearly cold by the time you got out. It had been far too comfortable laying back in Lando’s embrace, his hands resting on your little bump. It was too soon for him to feel the small kicks that you could but he held it just in case. 

“We should get going,” you interrupted the peace and quiet.

Lando groaned as you got out of the bath, all too happy to stay in the bath all night if it meant he could hold your body against his. But he also missed Renleigh and for her he pulled himself up and accepted the towel you held out. 

You weren’t sure you were going to make it out of the hotel room when he saw the dress you wore. The material was tight in all the right places and you could see the ideas floating through Lando’s mind as he twirled a finger until you gave him a little spin. 

“I need to learn some French from Maria,” he uttered after he rolled his tongue across his bottom lip. “There’s so many English words to describe how beautiful you are, but it’s still not enough.”

“You hit 30 and turned into an old sap,” you teased as you tossed him the room keys. 

“You hit 30 and turned into a milf,” he shot back with a wink as he swaggered towards the door but you caught him by his belt as he passed by you.

“You think you can call me that and get away without backing it up?” you asked as you tugged him closer and captured his smirking lips in a searing kiss. You pulled away breathless before you could wrap your legs around him and gave him a small push away that made him chuckle.

“Hormones got the better of you again, love?” he asked knowingly as you fanned your face and narrowed your eyes at him. 

“Just walk behind me,” you ordered as you opened the door and stepped out. “If I look at you I’m going to try to jump you in a maintenance closet or something.”

Lando’s laugh followed you the entire way down the hall but there was no way you could avoid looking at him when the elevator doors closed. A smug grin split his face as he leaned against the mirrored wall and crossed his arms. “Feeling okay?”

You shot him a dirty glare that only amused him further and just to throw fuel on the fire he reached up to stretch his back with a satisfied sound that should have been reserved for the bedroom. The tanned skin over his toned abs peeked out as his fingers touched the ceiling and you swallowed at the sight before turning your back on him.

“Now you’re just being mean,” you murmured, meeting his sparkling blue eyes in the mirror. 

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

Thankfully the hotel was wider than it was tall and it didn’t take long to reach the lobby floor where Maria was just arriving for the evening event after enjoying the day with Renleigh. 

“Where’s Zak?” Lando asked as he lifted a wriggling Ren into his arms. Now that she could walk she had no interest in being carried and squirmed until he reluctantly placed her feet back on the ground. 

“You know how it is with time zones, Indycar starts this week too so he’s just catching the end of that practice,” Maria shrugged, well and truly used to her husband up at all hours for meetings with his other McLaren race teams. “He’ll join us shortly.”

“Ow, fu-udge,” Lando almost swore as he cupped himself, his teammate popping out from behind him guilty of the childish act they never outgrew.

“Sorry,” Carlos laughed unapologetically as he kissed your cheek. “I had to get him back for earlier.”

“You can hit him all you want now,” you said with a wave to your husband who had the tenacity to look betrayed, despite his actions in the elevator. 

“You must have really pissed her off, ay ‘mano,” Carlos tutted with a shake of his head.

“No,” Lando groaned as he straightened up and righted himself with a shift of his legs. “I just don’t need my bollocks anymore, thanks for that mate.” 

“But I thought you wanted…what!” Carlos’ eyes widened as he looked at you, stepping a bit to the side so he could see your profile before his hand flew to his mouth. “¿Estás embarazada? You’re pregnant?”

“Almost half way along,” you confirmed as Lando smiled proudly. “You’re the first outside of the family to know.”

Carlos’ excitement burst free in a torrent of Spanish as he picked Lando up in a big hug before scooping up Ren. She didn’t fuss like she did with you and Lando, instead she was too busy trying to steal the gold chain that hung around Carlos’ neck. 

“Outside of the family,” Carlos scoffed at Ren. “What is your mama talking about? I’m Tio Carlos. Say it with me, Ti-o Car-los.”

“Ti-ti!” Ren babbled with a clap of her hands.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” Lando smirked. “His name is Uncle Titty. Good girl.”

Carlos rolled his eyes and continued to try to get your daughter to speak. “Ti-o, Tee-ooh, Tio, ah, we’ll work on it.”

More drivers soon arrived at the first event of the year and Lando was greeted warmly by them all. Though the medication had quickly made a difference to him, he hadn’t changed his mind about retiring until the end of the season - after months of exploring his fears and thinking with a psychologist and sharing them with you. 

Zak had been relieved to hear the news that he was going to return, especially when he also told Lando that Carlos was returning after hearing rumours he wanted out of Ferrari. The two had good history and worked well as a team so there wouldn’t be any of the usual teething problems that came with breaking in new teammates. It was Zak’s dream team for winning that elusive Constructors Championship and with Max having retired from Formula One there was a real shot.

Lando looked around and you saw the little slump of his shoulders when he remembered he wouldn’t find Max. The five time World Champion was probably enjoying his retirement on his super yacht along the Amalfi Coast or playing in a Fifa tournament. But, no matter what, they always found time to hang out and get brunch at least once a month when they were both in Monaco at the same time.

“It’s weird isn’t it?” Carlos asked, having looked for him too when the Red Bull drivers arrived.

“Weirder than when Lewis and Nando left,” he muttered. 

A waitress circled with a tray of champagne flutes and Carlos plucked two up, bypassing you and Lando to hand it to Maria. There was only a small look of longing that Lando had as the flute passed by but he wasn’t allowed to drink with his tablets and the one time he had ignored that advice has left him with his head in the toilet bowl after only two shots. 

“We didn’t grow up with them though, I think that’s what makes it strange.” Carlos took a sip of his drink before spotting Charles on the other side of the room. “Now we are the old dogs.”

“Speak for yourself, mate. How’s that going?” Lando asked, noticing the same stiffening in Carlos as you had.

“It is what it is,” Carlos sighed before finishing the rest of his drink to build up the courage to talk to his old teammate. The two hadn’t left on the greatest of terms, since Carlos had inadvertently blamed the fact that Ferrari held favouritism towards Charles as the main reason for leaving. “I should go talk to him.”

Carlos kissed Ren’s head and carefully removed his necklace that she had tangled around her fingers before passing her to Lando.

“Good luck,” you wished him with a smile as you rubbed his arm. “If it comes to a dust up in the car park, Nurse Norris is pretty good at patching people up.”

He managed a small laugh and relaxed a little knowing that at least it was something that would never happen. There had often been tension between the two throughout their years on the same team, sometimes more than the level it was currently at, so he was fairly certain that this too would blow over.

A pair of arms wrapped around your waist as you watched Carlos leave before scanning the crowd of both new faces and old. “Glad you came back?” you asked as you rested your head on Lando’s shoulder.

“Yeah, couldn’t have done it without you.” You felt his smile against your cheek that he pressed to his, watching the crowd grow from over your shoulder. He started to pull away for a moment as Renleigh darted off to a familiar face but he caught himself before he could become the helicopter parent. It was Zak she had barrelled towards and was carrying her back on his hip.

“This is where you belong,” you said as you squeezed his hand. “It’s your oxygen.”

Lando turned you in his arms and shook his head as he tipped your chin back to hold you captive with his eyes. “You’re my oxygen, love. You, Ren, this little one,” he swore as he cradled your bump. “I love racing, but I can live without it. I need you to survive.”

The end…

Tagging: @yunnie-f1 @neiich @zendayabelova @stillbreathin @dr3lover @writerscurse @christianpulisic10 @alwaysclassyeagle @alexisquinnlee-bc @purplephantomwolf @lightsoutletsgo @pleasantducktimetravel @pierre-gasllllllyyyyyy @holy-macncheese-balls @belennasif @ophcelia @love4lando @ryiamarie @mickslover @tyna-19 @fdl305

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 rpf #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 smut

[queers-gambit]

Tears in the Rain

prompt: feelings are confessed and a decision is made; the only thing left to do is heal and be okay.

pairing: Eddie Munson x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

word count: 8.4k

note: Eddie's 19, reader's 18+, and Chrissy's 17-18 years old. and yes - The Book of Unholy Mischief was published in 2008, but i still use a quote from it, oh well - roll with it!

warnings: Hanahaki Disease AU, cursing, unrequited love, y'all know the drill - angst! hospitals, and minor description of surgical procedure. again - angst! please proceed with maturity and caution. is this a happy ending? depends on your mental state idk anymore. ✅ no spoilers

other Eddie Munson Hanahaki Disease fics: Cherry Blossom Colored Kisses Gone with the Sin

It started in the 8th grade, spitting out bits of petals and scraping them off your tongue when nobody was looking; subtly wiping your hands on your jeans and pretending you hadn't. Your child's mind was overwhelmed and confused by the sight but figured it had to be normal, never asking any questions, because who would ever believe your symptoms?

You kept this secret to yourself like you did many others, never sharing with anyone the pain that was slowly creeping through your veins. You didn't even tell him - the boy who made your heart race and palms get sweaty. The boy who made your mind go blank and simultaneously race with thought. He's been your friend since the 1st grade, best friend since 3rd, you thought you could share anything, but after the talent show in 7th grade and you saw the way he was held hostage in his seat while watching Chrissy Cunningham do her cheer routine, you knew things couldn't stay the same.

His eyes were wide, his mouth slightly agape, and it was the first of many star-struck looks Eddie would give the strawberry blonde. A look you'll come to understand would never be directed at you.

Everything around you was changing but you refused to be left behind, so, you changed with the times; you changed with your friend. Your hair was cropped short as his grew out in unruly curls; you wore black almost everyday (like he did), you might've even learned how to play guitar so you two could have another bonding experience, and you even joined his stupid fucking Hellfire Club because you thought you could impress him with your Dungeons and Dragons knowledge that you didn't spend all summer studying over.

When you got to high school, your symptoms changed - just like you did. It wasn't fair, but you never tried to fix what was wrong; Nancy Wheeler spending hours with you in the library as you feigned a personal project you needed to research, searching for any solution. Your friend didn't know you found answers the summer before high school, the summer puberty hit you like a bullet train; the summer everything changed.

You knew something was terribly and fatally wrong yet never bothered to fix it, because why bother putting forth effort into an inevitable end? Your options were limited and neither sounded better than the last.

Option One: you succumb to your symptoms and suffocate. Two: you got a surgery to remove the blooms growing in your lungs - but it would in turn take away all known thought and memory of your beloved. And Option Three: confess your feelings and pray to any and every known God, Goddess, Deity that he would return them.

However, you worried that if he did return your affections - whether he verbalized them or not - you wouldn't be in this predicament to begin with. So, you sucked it up and kept quiet because having him as just a friend was better than forgetting him, or losing his friendship. You were never good being alone but found being alone with him was better than being by yourself. You chose to remain strong and silent, despite the way you withered away inside; you chose to stay close, even though his proximity made your heart crack. You chose to borderline torture yourself because you knew walking away would take more bravery than sticking around.

But in the words of Ellie Newmark, "Unrequited love does not die; it's only beaten down to a secret place where it hides, curled and wounded. For some unfortunates, it turns bitter and mean, and those who come after pay the price for the hurt done by the one who came before."

You positively refused to turn "bitter and mean", so, you plastered a smile on your face and never gave anyone reason to think anything could be wrong. You never thought there'd be anyone after him, because you were enamored with everything he did and the very idea of being in love with anyone except him drove your heart into your throat. The idea was unimaginable.

The first semester of high school, your chest got heavier with meat but also pressure, causing a terrible tightness that left you feeling as if you were breathing through a sauna; your lungs constricted with tendrils of prickling pain, and soon, those bits of petals were fully intact, giving you first sight to what was being hacked out of your body - white chrysanthemums.

After a bit of research, you discovered these particular flowers were used in European funeral bouquets - but not many others. You discovered white chrysanthemums were a symbol of death, grief, and mourning in some Asian cultures, and it did little to quell the worry in your chest.

Yet, how oddly beautiful to suffer through this; where your own body betrayed you but produce something pure, innocent even, despite being slathered with a halo of tacky blood.

However, you feared life without him and even if it meant your heart would permanently weep, you would sign yourself up for a lifetime of pain if it meant he stayed close. If it meant he stayed in your life. If his hand would continue to hold yours. If his smile would grace your sight, if those pillowy lips would form precious nicknames that always made you feel on top of the world.

You'd mourn yourself, in order to preserve and celebrate all he was.

For years, you persevered through the unimaginable pain in body and mind, and for years, you and he grew closer than ever before. In the 10th grade, things changed again - but this was only because you caught yourself about to confess your feelings for Edward Munson. Panic-inducing fear halted the words before they could slip out, and instead, it caused a violent coughing attack.

One so intense that it made you turn away from Eddie and get back in your father's car, driving away from his trailer as your palm was slathered in a slick, sticky mixture of blood and limp white petals.

You felt immense guilt when you glanced in the rearview mirror, Eddie's shocked, confused, and concerned figure standing on his porch - watching you drive away, and wondering what had gone wrong. You two had been smoking, sure, but Eddie often thought that you could smoke him under any table, any day. Maybe he had indulged you too much, and maybe your lungs and throat were going raw from it all - spurring a bud of guilt to sprout in Eddie's gut.

He didn't let you smoke going forward.

You accepted the new limitation because you couldn't handle telling him the truth. You chose to suffer for him, you chose to remain close and depend on him more than you should've. It became increasingly painful to live through your days, and to your heart-stopping fear, the pain was tenfold when you were nearest Eddie.

Eddie, who was oblivious to your pain.

Eddie, who couldn't pick up a fucking hint.

Eddie, who you've been in love with since you were a kid.

Eddie, who you spent every birthday and holiday with.

Eddie, who only ever wanted the pretty, popular head cheerleader... And not you.

Still, his friendship was better than nothing at all and you dealt with the staggering pain that soon left your limbs weak. Surely, the pain of losing him wouldn't match the pain you had now, so, you stuck it out.

You and Eddie hung out every weekend. You went to his shows at The Hideout, you helped him do his homework and study. You defended him against bullies, you'd wipe his tears, hold his hand through tattoos, you brought him new customers to up-charge his drug sales. You loved him, and you did what you could to show that without needing to verbalize it.

You laughed with him, cried, watched movies; went to concerts, checked out books in the library on how to fix automobiles to help him tune up his van. You remembered his Uncle Wayne's birthday and got him a new mug each year, you taught Eddie how to bake, you both would raid the music store and spend his drug money - and he'd always buy you a new record, even if it "wasn't real music".

Because that's what best friends did - they loved each other unconditionally.

And for years, you'd watch him stare after the pretty captain of the cheer team; her oblivious to his staring and him oblivious to yours. It was like a never-ending circle, watching the three of you idiots tiptoe around feelings and truth. Yet Eddie was focused on what was in front of him in the form of Chrissy, never bothering to ever check to see what was behind him - in the form of you.

Because you were always there. A constant presence tethered to his soul, forever being a safety net during the times he pushes himself too far.

The stake in your heart drove deeper when he'd ask your opinion on his hair - wondering if Chrissy would notice the trimmed dead ends (like you did). He'd ask you what flower was your favorite, because he wanted to impress the pretty strawberry blonde with a pretty bouquet. He asked you for a mixtape of your favorite love songs - learning a few of them on his guitar in the hopes of serenading the girl who you'd never be.

Thing was, Eddie was the only constant in your life and you felt it was impossible to walk away from him; some kind of chain keeping you from ever wondering too far. He was there from Day One, never leaving your side, and always knowing when something was wrong - until now.

When your symptoms graduated to coughing out blood daily, he didn't notice. When your chest was ready to cave in, making your breaths ragged and wheezy, he didn't notice. When your eyes became dull and lifeless due to the consistent pain that didn't let you rest through the night, he didn't notice.

What he did notice, was how Chrissy Cunningham was paying him slightly more attention since she and Jason Carver broke up. He noticed when her hair was different, he'd rave about how good she looked in the color green, gush to you in excitement when Mr. Lang had assigned them as project partners, and how Chrissy told him how funny she thought he was.

And the first day they decided to hang out together outside of educational purposes was the day you coughed out a full bloom. Floating on the surface of the water plugged in your bathroom sink was a white chrysanthemum, speckled in bright red blood; a string of red-stained saliva dripping from your mouth as you stared in shock. The face scrub popped lightly on your cheeks and fingertips, but your skincare routine was forgotten as you registered the newest symptom change.

This was new, this was much more painful. The usually beautiful flowers slowly grew in your lungs, sprouting thorns the longer you fought against your feels - refusing to admit defeat, and confess your deepest, longest kept secret.

For the following days, you were excusing yourself every single class period to retch into a toilet bowl, the blooms now sopping wet from your blood due to the shredded rawness of your throat and lungs.

Eddie didn't notice because Chrissy's perfume was still in his nostrils. Her swaying ponytail still behind his eyes. Her beaming smile painted in his mind, and fingers tingling from the ghostly memory of her hand in his.

Thorns sliced your throat, stabbed your tongue, and shredded the inside of your cheeks when you tried to spit them out as quick as possible. It was like your blood was made of glue, keeping the blooms and thorns stuck to your mouth and lips - no matter how your river of tears tried to wash them away. Or how your sobbing breath tried to force them out into the toilet - they just wouldn't budge.

Petals and flowers and thorns stuck to you, like your love for Eddie.

And Eddie didn't notice because Chrissy was wearing that skirt today, and he was telling you all about how beautiful she was instead of focusing on spending quality time with you; instead of noticing how you visibly shrunk into yourself in an effort to quell the pain throbbing in your chest and head, in an effort to block out the pain of hearing the boy you love gush about the girl he loves.

Breathing became harder, as if something were blocking your lungs. Blocking the passageway air needed to travel; blocking you out of your life. It took a physical toll; color of your eyes dulling, hair drying of any moisture, bones protruding from the harsh symptoms that refused to ease in severity. You felt fear for the first time since the 8th grade and this had all first started; trying to weigh your options over what to do.

Three options...

Eddie didn't notice your turmoil to make a decision because Chrissy agreed to a date with him.

Before you know it - years have passed since your first indication of symptoms. You prayed for deliverance, but God couldn't hear you through your gargled cries; coughing petals and blooms out between blobs of thick clots. Your pillow cases were all soiled, yet you couldn't replace them - it was futile with the way blood shot from your mouth and nose. You ran through tissues more than tampons, and your bedroom became something akin to a hospice room.

Eddie didn't notice when you dulled of life.

Being as you were now seniors, you figured showing up at Eddie's trailer in the middle of the night wasn't totally weird. After all, you both had sought refuge with the other since before you really understood what friendship meant. With worry and fear dropping your heart to your feet from the weight of your panic, you hopped in your beat up Toyota and drove through town to reach Eddie's home; used tissues scattered across the passenger seat - all saturated with blooming drops of blood.

You had no idea how to explain what was happening, but you needed to tell him. You needed help, and if there was a chance all of this could be over if you just told him the truth, you were willing to let down your walls. Eddie had always told you he'd do anything to help you, and you just banged your hands on the steering wheel as you tried to rid the idea from your mind that that, too, had changed.

When you got to Eddie's front door, the lights were on and you prayed he'd answer despite the late hour. You knocked, waited; knocked again, waited some more. After 4 minutes, you were pounding at his front door until it was shoved open - forcing you back a step - and to your horror, there stood Chrissy Cunningham... In Eddie's favorite Metallica shirt.

And only his shirt.

"Oh, hey," Chrissy smiles awkwardly, shifting her weight over her feet. Her shining strawberry blonde hair is strung off her neck in a messy bun that makes her look fucking ethereal. "Um, Eddie's in the shower... Do you want me to go get him for you?"

But the small blemish poking out from the collar of the shirt she wore made you shake your head through tears; trying to offer a small smile. "No, oh, my God, I'm so sorry, I-I didn't mean to interrupt. Shit, my bad, Chrissy," you backed away down the stairs, needing to use the railing to save yourself from falling over.

"You weren't," she assured. "We were, um... Done. H-He's in the shower, why don't you come in?" Her brows pulled together as if a string was threaded between them, offering sweetly, "I was gonna make some tea, do you want some? We could, um, hang out? Until he's out of the shower, i-if you want?"

FUCK! You knew Eddie didn't have fucking tea, so, the sweetheart must've brought it with her and now, she's offering to make you some? God damn it. Why'd she have to be so nice!?

"Oh, yeah, um, no, no thanks, Chrissy, that's really nice of you, but it's really nothing. I should just get going, I'll talk to him later, um... H-Have a nice weekend, and I'm sorry, again."

"Are you sure? You look kinda upset - I don't think you should drive right now."

Eddie didn't notice - but one look from Chrissy Cunningham and she had. If your heart wasn't broken before, it was now.

You nodded despite the pain swelling in your chest, "Yeah, no, no I'm fine - I should've just called. It's not a big deal, I'm sorry again, um, good night, Chrissy, um, yeah - just, yeah, have a nice night."

She nodded, "You, too. I hope you feel better, I'll tell Eddie you stopped by."

You trusted that she would, returning home and with petals still sticking to your tongue, charged into your mother's room. She sat up in her bed in shock - late night shifts taking their toll and leaving her sleep deprived. This was her first weekend off in months, and you felt terrible for interrupting her, but you couldn't hold it in anymore.

You needed your mother. You needed her more than ever before because your fear was tangible, and you weren't ready to die.

See, thing is, your mother was borderline your best friend (besides Eddie, that is). She and your father had been high school sweethearts, married, and he died in a tragic car accident on the night your mother was going to tell him she was pregnant on their first wedding anniversary. She never dated, she never brought a man home, she only focused on you. When you got older, she figured she could work more and you were happy to support her; taking up more house chores to save her from any unnecessary stress.

It was just you and your mother... Until Eddie, then, he was a constant presences at your dinner table. He had his own Christmas stocking your mother knitted. His favorite snacks kept in a stocked up supply for whenever he chooses to visit. And you and your mother would spend an entire day baking a cake for his birthday before hosting a full meal for him and his Uncle Wayne.

Your mother never had an issue with doing any of that because she was grateful for Eddie being in your life. It made her feel as if you'd never be alone.

However, you now felt like a burden, but the moment your mother clocked your tears and trembling hands clutching bloody tissues, she was beckoning you to her chest and begging you to tell her what was wrong as she rocked you soothingly.

So, you confessed. Everything.

From that night in 7th grade when you saw Eddie mesmerized by Chrissy Cunningham for the first time. That being the night you coughed out petals... And how everything changed and got worse from there on, and you didn't understand what was wrong, why you were suffering.

You told her about how you were now coughing out the full thorny blooms, how the bleeding wouldn't stop; how the pain was festering, spreading, and suffocating your heart, mind, and soul.

You told her about tonight... What you saw... How nice the cheerleader had been, how you couldn't find it in your heart to hate her, and how you didn't know what to do anymore.

You told her how Eddie didn't notice anymore - he couldn't see you - because he could only see Chrissy, and it was slowly killing you.

It took all night to explain, and your mother sat you at the kitchen table. She made you hot tea and plated a few cookies - talking well through the night and into the morning. She wanted to understand everything and as the sun breached the horizon, she was encouraging you to tell Eddie how you felt after reading the same book you had that explained the disease you suffered from.

You told her she was crazy, but she begged you to at least try. She validated that you had the right idea in going to his trailer; she thought that you and Eddie had always been cute, that you'd make a great couple; and though your sense of style had changed again (after it didn't get Eddie's attention, like you'd hoped), she still thought you two complimented each other well. "You balance each other, my dove," she whispered. "Tell him. Please, for your own sake."

So, you bucked up the courage to tell him on Monday. You'd see him at school and couldn't back down, leaving it neutral grounds for you both to be honest and open in. Or, so you hoped.

That morning, you caught Eddie before he could enter the school and asked to talk to him. "Shit, I meant to call you, doll," he breathed, looking at you with concern. "Chrissy said you were upset and showed up at my door - are you okay? What was wrong? I'm sorry I wasn't there."

So, when Chrissy points it out, he pays attention. Instead, you just answered, "It's okay, I'm okay. Um, c-can we go talk? Privately?"

"Of course, yeah, c'mon," he agreed, leading you to the lesser-populated hallway to slip into the old drama classroom that now posed as the Hellfire Club room. Eddie sat on his throne but leaned forward on his knees to hold your hands as you took time to think over in your mind what you wanted to say.

"Eddie," you whispered. "I-I just really need to tell you something, and you have to promise not to hate me after."

He nodded, "I could never hate you, pretty girl, and you know you can tell me anything."

"Right," you sniffled. "Well, um, listen, I just want you to know that I-I value this friendship more than anything, and never want to jeopardize it..."

"Okay, now you're scaring me," Eddie chuckled. His hands squeezed yours, encouraging, "C'mon, sweetheart, what's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

You nodded, blurting, "I'm in love with you."

Only the silence stretched between you two like an oversized bubble of Hubba Bubba - popping as your words registered in his mind. His eyes just shot between both of yours, mouth opening to form a word before sighing and shaking his head. Panic and fear gripped your heart, lungs, and mind in a tighter vice than the white chrysanthemums' roots.

"You can't be," he finally whispered brokenly.

A record scratched in your head, "What?"

"You can't be in love with me," his head shook as he repeated his statement. "No, no, you - you can't be."

"Why can't I be? Is it that hard to imagine?"

"Because you're my best friend - you're supposed to be my best friend!" He looked spooked, startled, unsure, and like he was going to have an anxiety attack. "You can't be in love with me, you're just - no!"

"Well, I didn't exactly plan it."

"Just - stop!"

"Stop what?"

"Stop loving me!"

"You don't think I've tried!?"

"Try harder!"

"For fuck's sake, Eddie! You don't think this is hard enough?"

"Well, it'd be easier if you had some kind of restraint!" He snipped, wiping a hand down his mouth. "Shit, I mean, what the hell am I supposed to do about this?"

"I-I don't know!"

"Well, why tell me?"

You gulped, fearing telling him the truth now. Instead, you just whispered, "I-I take it you don't feel the same?"

"Shit, sweetheart," he sniffled, shaking his head, "y-you know I love you but... But no, I-I'm not in love with you."

You nod slowly, blinking even slower, "No?"

"I'm so sorry - fuck, God damn it."

"It's not your fault," you promised. "I-I didn't mean for this to happen, okay? I swear, I didn't want to do this, I never wanted things to change between us."

He nodded sadly, "I get that, I do, but I think I need time to think."

"Wait, what? Think about what, Eddie? L-Like - you need to think about us? You need time to think about us?" You squeaked, panic swelling. You started to cough lightly, that sticky feeling clogging your throat again.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Because I'm with Chrissy and I don't think she would like... This."

Now you understood... "So, because you're dating Chrissy, you can't be friends with me? We've been friends forever, Eddie, why does this have to change things?"

"Because you're in love with me! I didn't want you to be, you were supposed to be my friend. Just my friend!"

"I'm sorry it happened, but why does this mean we can't still be friends? I've dealt with it this long, I can go longer - "

"Because I'm in love with Chrissy, and can't do this to her! For fuck's sake, why'd you have to do this, huh? Why'd you have to fall in love with me right when I got a girlfriend - "

"It didn't just happen, Eddie, I've been in-love with you since middle school! But notice how we stayed friends! Please - please, we can stay friends, this doesn't have to change anything."

He shook his head, standing abruptly, "It changes everything. I gotta go - I just can't be here, I'm sorry."

"Eddie! Please! Wait, just wait, please, let me explain!" You begged, watching him flee the room; the door slamming in an echo around you and forcing the tears teetering in your waterline to fall pathetically. You felt your heart nailing you to the floor, tears falling numbly down your cheeks; hands shaking and coughing getting worse. Your hands finally found feeling again and rose, covering your mouth and nose to catch the splatter.

You hacked as your lungs shriveled to expel whatever clogged them, falling to your knees and needed to use two fingers to reach in the back of your throat to pull a full floral bloom out; blood dripping off of it and from your mouth to soak into the old, dingy carpet. The thorns pierced your finger pads when you rolled the short stem between them, the flower falling into the puddle of blood you'd spat out.

Stumbling to your feet, you kept a tissue in hand and covering your mouth; the material slowly saturating as you punched your mother's number in the outside payphone.

"Mom?" You begged into the receiver, wheezing and sobbing through the pain. Everything had changed, again. "I-I need you to take me to the hospital. Please, Mommy, i-it's hurts. 'S blood everywhere, an-and the pain - Mommy, please, it hurts so bad."

Your mother was pulling up in a skidding halt within 6 minutes. Her rubber tires burned over the pavement, slight smoke wafting into the air to indicate not just her speed, but her harsh stop when she saw your body bolting towards her.

From the side of the school, moments before the first bell rang, Robin Buckley and Nancy Wheeler watched you fully sprint for the car and how fast your mother pulled off, sharing an uneasy look before darting for the same payphone and calling Steve Harrington.

But they couldn't find you all over town, opting to wait at your house instead. They only waited for about an hour before your mother's car was pulling into the driveway.

"You gonna tell them?" Your mom muttered, smiling and waving at the three teenagers.

"Yeah," you whispered. "Doctors said keeping it a secret doesn't make it easier, right?"

She nodded, "For whatever it's worth, my dove, I think you're making the right decision. This took a lot of bravery, but you're going to get better, and you're going to feel better, too."

"I know," you whispered with a watery smile. "Just gonna suck until Thursday."

"I'll call the school, you're gonna be out for recovery for at least 2 weeks."

"Don't forget my post-op appointment," you nodded.

"Right," she agreed, opening her door and triggering you to follow suit. "Hey, kids," she beamed at your worried friends.

They greeted her politely (but enthusiastically) before she was excusing herself and heading for the house. It left you to stand before the three people, who, up until a few years ago, you wouldn't have imagined being real friends with.

Technically, you and Nancy Wheeler had been friends since before Eddie; Robin and Steve coming into your life through inter-dimensional circumstances before choosing to stick around.

"Are you okay?" Nancy asked first, looking the most worried. "We saw you running from school and thought something was wrong."

"So, you blew off school to stalk my house?" you teased lightly, trying to alleviate the pain settling on your heart after leaving the hospital.

"Exactly," Robin crossed her arms. "You ran like something was chasing you - we knew something was wrong. What is it? A-Are you okay? I mean, you looked pretty spooked, we were afraid something else came back - you know - "

"Okay, Robin, yeah," you chuckled lightly, interrupting her rapid words. "Um, I appreciate the concern, but it could've waited."

"Not when you've been acting funny for months now," Nancy shook her head. "Don't think we haven't noticed; you're skinnier, you look like you haven't slept in weeks, you carry tissues around like you're paid for it... What's up with you?"

"And I've clocked the constant nose bleeds," Steve nodded, arms folding against his chest. "Look, if something's going on, you're going to need friends through it, and we're willing to take on the job."

Your heart swelled slightly and you nodded, blinking quickly to keep the tears down. "Um, yeah... Yeah," you sniffled, looking up at them as the emotion couldn't be kept out of your voice, "something's going on, and um... I-I think I would like to tell you guys about it. Do you mind waiting in the backyard? I've gotta grab a book from inside, trust me, it can explain some things better than I can."

Nancy looked nervous as her fingers twisted together; Robin nodding before nudging her along. Steve shifted on his feet and dropped his arms, clearing his throat, "You sure?"

"Yeah," you nodded with a whisper. "Just hang tight."

He nodded with crinkled brows of concern, heading off behind the two girls as you bolted for the front door. Your mother was heard in her room, on the phone, and you dropped your school bag on your bed, snatched up the library book you checked out every year, and made for your backyard.

As kids, you and Nancy loved hanging out here because it was spacious, and your mother had a beautiful garden with patio furniture nestled amongst the greenery. At the white-washed table, Steve, Nancy, and Robin waited together, muttering quietly, and left you to take your seat.

Sighing, you opened the book and slid it forward; Nancy's hands darting to pick it up and read swiftly as you began your tale. After voicing everything to your mother, you had a better idea of how to word it all; starting with when you realized you had a crush on Eddie in the 5th grade, how it festered in middle school, and when you realized you'd only be friends - so, you kept it that way.

You told them about the tiny bits of torn up petals, then how they became intact. Next, you explained how things got worse for you; blooms being coughed out with blood, how Eddie crushed majorly on Chrissy, and then to how everything hit rock bottom.

You explained the petals changed into full blooms, sprouting thorns as you stuffed your feelings deeper inside your cracked heart. You explained the constant pain, the confusion, the sleeplessness, showed them the cuts on your lips and in your mouth; even picking a leftover petal from the inside of your cheek to prove your point.

Steve's hand deftly reached out to examine it.

You explained the mental anguish of loving someone who couldn't love you back; the anguish of being so close - yet so far; and the anguish of knowing you were being killed from the inside, out because you couldn't let go of your overwhelming feelings for Eddie 'the Freak' Munson.

Then... You told them about Chrissy and Eddie at his trailer when you went to tell him the truth. How you confided in your mother for the first time in years. How you were encouraged to tell Eddie - and how it royally backfired, which lead you to today.

To your decision.

To your appointment at the hospital that your mother bullied administration into giving you last minute.

To meeting the cardiothoracic surgeon that diagnosed you with, as the library book highlighted, Hanahaki Disease.

Steve had tears in his eyes; elbows bent on the tabletop to keep his folded hands in front of his mouth, like he was physically suppressing his emotion with the petal laid to the table. Robin stared at you the whole time, never once making you feel as if you were talking to thin air; brows crinkled and perked at appropriate moments, never interrupting.

Nancy had read the entire passage before slamming the book down and letting her tears fall. She listened intently as you explained to the three that you had to choose one of three options, and immediately after that, you told them you had come to a decision.

You'd made the appointment and you were to under the knife that Thursday before returning in two weeks for a post-op check-up that would ensure all of the blooms were cleared from your lungs. And after today, you had discovered the plants were creeping up your esophagus and if you waited, soon, it would kill you.

"Well, why're you upset?" Robin asked gently, reaching for your hand. "This is good, right? Y-You'll be cured!"

You nodded in agreement, but it was Nancy voicing, "She'll forget Eddie completely."

"What?" Steve asked, looking between you and Nancy urgently. "Are you serious?"

"It's the only contingency in exchange for my life," you nodded.

"You've been friends forever," he shook his head, leaning back. "No, I just - I can't believe him. He doesn't love you back? That's just bullshit - c'mon!"

"Steve - "

"No, seriously!" he cut Robin off, her hand tightening in mine. "We've all seen how he looks at you, how he behaves! It doesn't make sense, it's not possible. He's just scared," his head shook still, looking angry with pinched brows. "He's scared and he's not thinking."

"No, Stevie," you whispered, "he understands, and trust me, he doesn't feel the same. It's okay."

"You'll forget your best friend," Steve shook his head. "That's not okay."

"It's a small price to pay, right?"

Nancy nodded, "If it means you're out of pain, and you won't die, yeah, I'd say it's a reasonable price to pay."

You agreed, "It's gonna be okay, but I'll be in recovery until the surgeon okay's me to return to school and normal activity."

"Will you remember why you need the surgery?" Robin wondered.

"Apparently not," you shrugged.

For the next few days, you remained at home and prepared for your operation. Your mother worked extra shifts because she was taking Thursday through TBD in order to take care of you, and your friends visited you everyday.

Nobody spoke of Eddie, who had asked Robin that Wednesday where you were - only to receive a fierce glare and slammed locker in his face. Chrissy's brows furrowed at the aggression, worrying something was wrong with you if your friends were shunning Eddie. She reminded him of how upset you'd been when you showed up at his trailer, his mind flashing to when he found a bloodied white chrysanthemum in the Hellfire room after he left you when you confessed your feelings for him.

He knew that was why you showed up at his trailer that night, and his heart constricted as he grew cold in your absence. He had to admit, if you've had these feelings since middle school, you never let it interfere with your friendship and he was a fool for blowing up at you.

Could it really be that hard to love you? Was the idea that far fetched?

The day of your surgery, your mother and you pushed out of your front door at 4 am to make it to the hospital for pre-op; blood work; all the standard procedures that needed done before you were sliced open and roots carved out of your lungs. And to your honest shock? Steve Harrington was waiting on the street, leaning on his car, dressed in a pair of jeans and an old hoodie.

"What're you doing here?" You wondered, oblivious to your mother's knowing smirk.

Steve shrugged lightly, "Figured you'd want a familiar face around, and Nance and Robin have tests in school today - otherwise, they'd be here, too."

"'Too'?" You repeated with a soft smile.

"Yeah, well, I-I'd still be here," he nodded. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah," you breathed, nodding with a soft smile. "I think I'd really appreciate the, um..."

"Support? Comfort? Seeing my pretty face when you wake up from anesthesia?" He grinned.

"All of the above, Harrington, c'mon," you chuckled, waving him with you. In your mother's car, she kept conversation light as a distraction when your nerves flared the closer you drove to the hospital; the boy in the back doing his best to chime in charmingly. Steve was allowed to stay with you once in the pre-op procedure room (again, your mother bullied hospital admin into letting him stay), and cracked a few really poor jokes while needles were poked into your skin.

Medicine was administered, your hair stuffed into a surgical cap, vitals taken for a final time - and then it was time to go.

When you were wheeled away, Steve squeezed your hand and your mother kissed your forehead; both wishing you luck, reminding you of your brave decision, and sent you down the sterile hallway. While staring up at the blinding, florescent lights of the operating room, a gas mask was placed over your mouth and the anesthesiologist instructing you to count backward from ten... And your heart begged you to change your mind.

Begged you not to erase Eddie. Begged you to jump off that table.

But your mind told only your tongue to move, and you counted, "Ten."

Eddie's soft hair through your fingers, "Nine."

Eddie's stupid grin when he's showing you a new guitar riff he'd mastered, "Eight."

Eddie's laugh, "Seven."

The warmth of Eddie's hugs, "Six."

His hands holding your cheeks, thumbs sweeping to clear your tears as he would coo to you, trying to calm you down, "...Five..."

"She's out," the doctors nodded to one another; scalpels clinking over the sterile table, machines beeping to indicate vital readings, and rubber gloves snapped into place as your hospital gown was peeled away, and disinfecting betadine squirted over your skin.

Across town, in the hallways of Hawkins High, Eddie was pacing by your locker. He looked disheveled, not himself; confused and scared, by what Robin could judge.

"What're you doing here?" she shot venomously, using her hand to push his chest and force him back a step from your locker.

"Where is she?" he begged. "Please, Robin, I know she's hurt - I know I hurt her, but I have to talk to her an-and she hasn't been at school all week. Please - I have to talk to her."

She used your combination to open your locker and set the packet of missed work inside for her to pick up at the end of the day, sneering, "It's too late."

"No, it's not - "

"No, seriously, Eddie," she snapped, the locker slamming in an echo. "It's too late for you. She's let you go, time for you to do the same."

For two weeks, Eddie repeated the last words he'd said to you, how broken you looked when he said he didn't love you. The words you said to him, then how you weren't seen again, to that bloody flower he found, and how Robin, Nancy, and Steve were all giving him the cold shoulder. He thought over what went wrong and every single way he was going to make it up to you, because while he might be in love with Chrissy Cunningham, there was never replacing you - and he needed you.

Eddie needed you.

And his heart sunk to his stomach as he realized how bitter he's turned; shunning Chrissy, becoming testy, canceling Hellfire, and missing you to the point he was tugging his hair out of his scalp and chain smoking cigarettes.

Loving you was easy and maybe he's loved you longer than he's known - longer than he ever wanted to admit. But missing you was hard, and Eddie wasn't accustomed to it.

It was supposed to be easy between you two, but when you confessed your feelings, Eddie felt everything become messy and change. Eddie Munson wasn't very good with change. He missed your laugh, he missed your comfort, a few times he'd even looked up to his bed when he mastered a new guitar riff - and feeling his heart sink in disappointment when he only saw Chrissy.

Granted, she was smiling at him, but it wasn't your smile. Tears filled his eyes when he realized he spent every Friday with Chrissy, finding new ways to impress the cheerleader, and feeling crushed when he remembered he never needed to impress you. You were always proud of him, you always encouraged him, and with a single look, you could say more than ever opening your mouth.

Eddie needed you, and he had ruined any chance of loving you properly. But Edward Munson was stubborn and not willing to give up, not until you were beating him off with a stick. The two of you had been friends forever and he knew you had some fights, but one way or another, someone was always apologizing and together, you could move past the issue. So, until you were telling him to fuck off, he was going to try - because you had never given up on him.

Two weeks of nothing. Two weeks of your home's voicemail. Two weeks of nobody answering the front door. Two weeks of confusion, heartache, and stress. Two weeks of smoking packs of cigarettes, of snapping at Chrissy, of praying to a God he's never prayed to before.

When he saw you that Friday, Eddie's heart leapt into his throat and he gave a strangled gasp before sprinting across the carpark to make it to your side. You were surrounded by Nancy Wheeler and Robin Buckley, all three piling out of Steve Harrington's car - who now leaned on his driver's door, mid-conversation - and he thought you looked more beautiful than ever.

The weight you've lost had slowly built back up now that you weren't constantly vomiting. Your head had cleared, your heart feeling lighter than ever before, your veins racing with helium, and the bags under your eyes had cleared. In fact, your eyes looked clearer than they ever had, and your skin was practically glowing.

God did you look good.

Eddie panted your name, coming to a skidding halt as Steve pushed off his car and looked at you with worry.

Why would Harrington need to worry about you?

"Oh, uh, hi there?" you nodded at him, tugging your binder closer to your chest and sending a cautious look to Robin.

But Eddie's heart was in his throat, "I-I need to talk to you, please."

To his horror, you shook your head, "Um, I don't think we actually have anything to talk about."

"What? No, we have so much to discuss, please, I know I was a jackass and you don't deserve that - "

"Wait, hang on, I-I'm sorry. You don't understand, we don't have anything to talk about," you chuckled weakly, "because I don't know you."

Ice shot into Eddie's veins, stuttering, "W-What? Th-That's not funny, doll, don't joke like that."

You looked at Nancy for support, whispering in a small, panicked voice, "I don't know him, do I, Nance? I don't think I know him."

"No, honey," Nancy assured, smiling softly at you before glaring at Eddie. "He's just a classmate."

Eddie knew Nancy was protective of you but what the hell was going on? What kind of a sick prank was this? Look, Eddie knew he's pulled some mean jokes in his life but this? This wasn't mean, it was cruel, and he didn't find it funny in the least bit.

"What? No - what the hell are you guys talking about?" Eddie begged, looking between the four teenagers. "Sweetheart, it's me - it's Eddie. It's your Eddie, please, what do you mean you don't know me - what's going on? This isn't funny, sweetheart, please, okay? Look, we've known each other a decade, right, how can you - how can you not know me?"

"I'm really sorry, um... Eddie? Was it Eddie?"

His heart shattered, shards stinging as they were pumped through the rest of his body. "Sweetheart, no, please, I just... I'm so sorry, but this isn't funny - "

"Look, I'm really sorry, but this isn't a joke, I really don't know you," your head shook. "And I would remember someone I've known a decade - right?" You asked Nancy again, looking nervous. "I-I don't know him, but he knows me. Nancy, I-I don't understand, I don't know what's wrong. Is something wrong with me?"

"No, honey," she rushed to speak, sending Steve a pointed look when stress made your eyes shine. "You're okay, you're okay, it's okay."

"Okay, hey, hey, hey, okay," Steve stepped in, pushing Eddie back a few steps. "You need to back off, you're upsetting her."

"I'm upsetting her?" he repeated, tears collecting as his feet tried to plant against Steve's force. "She doesn't remember me - "

"Back off, dude," Steve warned.

"I'm really sorry," you called to him, genuine look of distorted pain over your face. "I'm sorry," you repeated to Robin and Nancy, "I-I don't know him, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I-I don't know what's wrong, I'm sorry - "

"Hey, hey, breathe, okay? It's all fine, it's all good, you're okay, I promise, just try to focus on breathing," Robin assured, hand rubbing circles over your back.

"No! Baby! You do know me!" Eddie begged over Steve's shoulder as Nancy turned you away. "Please! No! You know me, baby! Don't do this, please, please, I need you! Sweetheart - please! I need you, and I'm so sorry for what I said! Don't do this! No, please, I-I'm sorry!"

His heart glued itself back together just to shatter once again when Robin took your books to let your hands slap over your ears to block him out as Nancy directed you away - Steve still pushing Eddie back.

"Dude!" Steve snapped with anger coloring his iris' a darker shade, "You're fucking upsetting her!"

"Steve, please - "

"No," Steve shook his head. "You had your chance, and it's too late. Okay? Leave her alone, she doesn't remember and doesn't need you trying to 'remind' her when it's already done, dude. Okay? It's done."

"What the hell does that mean? Please, Steve, I need her - she's my best friend and I can fix this," Eddie begged.

Steve felt fleeting compassion for the other boy, seeing the distress and heartbreak over his face. Steve sighed, glancing back to see you being spoken to softly by Nancy and Robin, assuring you it was okay not to remember the boy with long hair, before turning to look into the eyes that had broken your heart on too many occasions.

"She doesn't remember because you were removed from her memory, Ed, you were just... All of you was removed from her, okay?" Steve sighed finally. "Look, it's hard to explain, but do yourself and her a favor?"

"Anything."

"Go to the library and look this up," he pulled a torn piece of paper from his pocket, handing it over. "It'll explain what was wrong, and you should hopefully be able to piece together why she can't remember you. Don't make this harder, all right? She's finally okay, and you were so sure you didn't want her that it's time for you to be okay without her, too. Don't do this to her, man, you get me?"

"What did I do?" Eddie whispered.

Steve gulped, shaking his head, "You couldn't love her back."

Eddie stood there, piece of paper clutched in his fingertips like the petal of a flower, as Steve turned and headed for you three girls. He lifted his arm to bring you in for a side hug, assuring you that it was okay not to remember - while Eddie stood there, like you had so many times, watching with tears and heartbreak in his eyes.

He didn't go to classes, he obsessively searched books for the Hanahaki Disease Steve told him about; finding his answers, and never finding peace. He had to live everyday watching you really bloom into your own person; becoming more radiant by the passing second, realizing he was draining you of your life before, and how there wouldn't ever be room for him with you now.

When you graduated with an acceptance to your first choice college, you returned home in your cap and gown with a giggling Robin and Nancy; planning on changing and getting ready to hit a few grad parties already. The girls were so excited that you were feeling (and looking) better now that they didn't want to waste anymore time and insisted you all hit a few parties. However, before you could hop up the stairs to your room, a large bouquet of flowers caught your attention.

Sat on your kitchen counter was a thick bouquet of white chrysanthemums. There was no note, no signature, but something in your gut twisted with knowledge. Your fingers reached out to gently stroke the petals before smiling lightly, leaning in to sniff them, and then turn for the stairs to rush up to your bedroom.

All the while across town, a long haired metalhead in a matching green cap and gown, tipped a bottle of Irish whiskey to his lips; a single stemmed white chrysanthemum rolled between his fingers; old polaroid photos scattered around his body on the floor, tears sliding down his cheeks, and regret echoing across his mind.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fics #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things season 4 #requests open

[pedrito-friskito]

strawberry wine - joel miller x fem!reader

before - part one

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

it’s summer in austin, and you and joel meet for the first time.

a/n: the joel miller brain rot is real and your advocate is here to help! masterlist will be up shortly, special thank yous and shout outs to @psychedelic-ink @allfoolsinluv and @gnollengrom for letting me scream about this fic in your dms 🤍 I have thought of little else for the last 48 hours

word count: 3.4k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI - this part is not explicit but other parts will be, masterlist has further warnings, but no real warnings for this part except a lot of fluff?? and banter?? and I’m obsessed kthanksbyeeeee

✨I no longer have a taglist - if you’d like to be notified of new works/chapters, follow @friskito-library and turn notifications on!✨

You meet Joel Miller long before the world implodes.

It’s 2001, you’re fresh out of college, relocated to Austin, Texas where your parents have taken over an old hardware store that once belonged to your grandfather. Nowhere else to go and nothing else to do for the time being, you spend most of your time in the store, stocking shelves and chatting with customers, learning the different things the store keeps on hand, what has to be shipped in special order. It’s not much, but it’s something to do; you’re just happy to be back with your family after four long years at college. Sure, you came home for holidays when you could, but it wasn’t the same.

It still isn’t the same, not really.

The house you live in is foreign to you, not the same roof you grew up under. The people are the same, your parents clearly happy to have you back, your little sister overjoyed to have someone in her corner again. Austin is nice, the weather warmer than you’re used to after four years in Michigan, but it’s a welcome change. Summer seems to go on forever, and your weekends are spent basking in the sun, finding new places to explore, wandering the shops that neighbour the hardware store and beyond.

And then one day, everything changes.

You’re stood at the end of one of the aisles, fixing a stubborn display of plaster tubs that won’t stay upright, when you hear the bells over the door chime, announcing the arrival of a customer. You don’t stray far from the display, calling out a good morning! and returning to your work. Your sister is perched behind the register, flipping through an old magazine, and you hear the tell-tale squeak of work boots on the linoleum, the sound now all too familiar to your ears.

The boots move in your direction, but you pay the sound little mind until it grows closer. Most people who come into the store know what they’re looking for, and your parents had been careful to keep everything in the same aisles and shelves they’d been on for the past decade, so as to not disrupt the regular customers. From the corner of your eye, scuffed, dark boots step a little closer, and your eyes drag over from the display, taking in the man before you.

You try really hard not to let your eyes linger everywhere, but it’s hard. He’s…well, he’s hot. Dark hair, dark eyes, patchy facial hair that really shouldn’t work as well as it does. Long legs covered in dark jeans, a t-shirt that’s definitely seen better days and is straining against his broad shoulders and thick arms. It’s a classic look you’ve come to associate with every guy who works construction in Austin, but right off the bat, you know there’s something different about this one.

“Hi there,” he says, his southern drawl not as intense as some other folks you’ve talked to, but still there, coupled with a little quirk to his lips, an almost-smile that makes you instantly desperate to see the full thing.

“Hi,” you breathe out, curling your fingers around the metal shelving in front of you, abandoning the plaster display.

“I’m lookin’ for a quarter-inch drill bit,” he spits, nearly stuttering the request out. You’re stuck still for a moment, absolutely enamoured by the man before you. And it makes your own lips twitch, the way his cheeks flare red and he drops his gaze after a moment, rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “I’m also assuming you work here but I now realize you don’t have a name tag or anything so I’ll just—”

You clap a hand over your chest dramatically. “Shoot. Must have left the stupid thing in the back.” He lifts his head, eyes going wide, the almost-smile returning. “Follow me.”

He follows you like a little lost puppy a few aisles down from where you were standing. He’s taller than you, by nearly a head, those broad shoulders almost blocking out the harsh fluorescent lights overhead. You may or may not let your hips swing a little harder as you walk.

“Any specific brand you’re looking for?” you ask over your shoulder, coming to a stop in front of the pegboard that holds bits of all sorts of sizes. “Or just a quarter-inch?”

“As long as it fits in my drill,” he answers, and you turn to the board, scanning for the right size. You can feel his eyes lingering on you, and you’re basking in it. When you find the right one, you pluck it off the hook and hand it to him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you say, shoving your hands in the back pockets of your jeans after he takes it from you. “If it doesn’t fit, just bring it back and I’ll make sure you get the right one.”

The corner of his mouth twitches and he looks between you and the little package a few times, tapping it against the flat of his palm. His lips part, like he’s about to say something, but then your sister calls your name and your head snaps up.

“Come on up to the front when you’re ready,” you say, feeling a little bold and touching his arm as you step past him, “and I’ll cash you out.”

He watches you walk away, too.

“I need coffee,” your sister declares as soon as you’re within view of the front counter. “You want anything?”

“Nah, I’m good,” you reply, stepping behind the register, righting a cup of pens that’s fallen over. She slips down from the stool, flipping her magazine shut, and brushes past you, just as a now familiar deep voice reaches your ears.

“Thanks again,” tall, dark, and handsome says, approaching the counter with the drill bit and a tub of plaster from the display you’d been fixing in his hands. Your sister steps around him as he walks up, and turns to look at you over his shoulder, her jaw dropped, giving you two thumbs up. Your cheeks flare with heat, but you ignore it, taking the bit and the plaster when he sees them on the counter. “Are you new here?” he asks, and then rubs his hand up the back of his head, turning sheepish again. “Here being Austin, I mean. Haven’t seen you around before.”

You can’t help but grin back at him. “New-ish. Moved back at the beginning of the summer after I finished college. My parents took over this place after my grandfather died, and I can’t afford rent in the city, so here I am.” You ring up his purchase, tell him his total, and he fishes for his wallet, digging in the front pocket of his jeans. “For now, anyway.”

He presses his lips together as he pulls a twenty out of his wallet and hands it to you. “Maybe I’ll see you around again sometime.”

You punch in the right amount, letting the register drawer hit your hip as it shoots open. “Maybe you will.” You hand him his change, and as you press the bills and coins into his waiting hand, you offer your name with it.

“Joel,” he says by way of answer, and your chest puffs a little with the knowledge. “Miller. Joel Miller.”

Your grin widens. “Well, you have yourself a good day, Joel Miller. Hope I see you soon.”

He takes the bit and the plaster and takes a step backwards, walking directly into a display stand holding rolls of bright green and blue painters tape, sending it toppling to the floor. “Ah, shit, I’m sorry,” he grumbles, and you step around the counter, dropping to your knees, catching the tape as it rolls in a million different directions.

“Don’t worry about it,” you tell him earnestly, righting the stand and getting back to your feet. “Now I have something to do.”

“You sure?” he asks, straightening, his cheeks burning red. “I’m sorry, again.”

“Don’t worry about it, again,” you laugh, gesturing towards the front door. “I’ll see you, Joel.”

“See you,” he replies, tacking your name onto the end, and you have to ignore the way the sound of your name on his lips sends a prickle up the back of your neck.

You watch as he walks out the door, the bell ringing again as he departs, getting into a pick-up truck that has definitely seen better days parked at the curb. He scrubs a hand over his face as he starts the engine, and then turns and looks at you through the glass, lifting a hand in a wave before he pulls away from the store. You lift your hand to return the farewell, and your sister walks through the door a moment later, two coffees in her hands, pushing one into your grip even though you said you didn’t want one. You sip it anyway.

“Who was that?” she asks, bumping her hip into yours.

“Joel Miller.”

+

He comes into the store nearly every day for a week. Always looking for something new, another drill bit or packages of nails and screws, a hammer, rolls of tape. He’s a carpenter, you learn, and goes bright red when you hint that must mean he’s good with his hands.

Your conversations are always brief, but sweet. He asks what you went to school for, admits he never got past a high school education, laughs when you tell him he seems to be doing pretty well for himself despite that. He shows up one morning with coffees for both you and your sister, and a box of doughnuts, earning a squeal from your sister and a bright thanks Joel from yourself. One afternoon, he’s in a hurry, having run out of drywall screws, cursing that he left his wallet at the job site, and you wave him off, all but pushing him out the door with a new box.

Then Monday rolls around, and you find yourself watching the door, waiting for the bell to signal his arrival. Every time the bell does ring, you jump, stepping out of whatever aisle you’re in, checking to see who’s walked inside. 

“I’m sure he’ll come by tomorrow,” your sister says when the clock hits two and there’s still no sign of him. “He’s probably just busy.”

“I know,” you say, brushing it off best you can.

The rest of the day passes like molasses, the minutes ticking by so slow you’re half sure the clock on the wall is broken. You even go so far as to check the batteries, earning a laugh from your sister. You curse yourself for flinching every time the door opens, doubly so when your father arrives to take over for the evening and you jump so hard you drop the stack of sandpaper boxes in your hands. “Sorry, honey,” he laughs, helping you pick up the boxes. “Long day?”

“Something like that,” you reply, putting the sandpaper on the right shelf before heading for the counter to grab your bag. “See you at home!”

Your father waves without looking, but calls your name before you can walk out the door. “Someone’s at the house, just so you know. Your mother’s home, of course, but I hired a guy to look at the back porch, asked him to fix the light in the hallway too.”

“Shouldn’t you be able to fix that yourself,” you joke with a smile, “since you own a hardware store and all?”

He just waves you off. “Get outta here.”

You laugh, pushing the door open, the bells jingling above your head as you step through. It’s just before dinner time, the sun starting to hang a little lower in the sky. The inside of your car feels like a sauna when you slide into the driver’s seat, and you blast the air conditioning, turning up the radio loud enough you can hear it over the noise. It’s a quick drive from the store to your house, and you’re too distracted by the song that’s playing on the radio to notice the rusty pick-up parked at the curb.

If it makes you happy, it can’t be that bad.

Your mother is sitting in the kitchen when you walk through the door, calling her hellos, and you dump your keys and bag before bee-lining for the bathroom. The house is all one level, one bathroom shared between the four of you, and you flick on the light, turn on the shower, strip down quickly. The warm water is a balm for the long day, the tension that had been sitting between your shoulders melting away beneath the spray.

You wrap yourself in a towel afterward, collecting your clothes from the floor before flicking the light off again. You’re still humming the song from the radio as you open the door, wiping a drop of water from your cheek and—

“Joel?”

“Shit!” he mumbles, dropping the screwdriver in his hand. He’s standing right outside the bathroom, balanced on a step-stool. Fixing the light; you remember what your father had said. You’re instantly flushed, starkly aware of the fact that you’re basically naked except for a towel, dripping water and your underwear is basically dangling from your hand. “I’m sor—fuck!” The stool wobbles and out of instinct, you grab for him, planting your hand on his stomach. He’s reaching over his head still, and the bottom of your hand meets bare skin, his t-shirt riding up slightly.

“You good?” you ask, pressing your lips together as he balances himself. You move your hand, carefully bending your knees and picking up the screwdriver from where it landed on the floor. “Here.”

“Thank you,” he says softly, taking it from you, jaw working as he chews the inside of his lip. His cheeks are as red as your whole body feels. “Sorry, I’m—”

“I should go!” you say quickly, and side-step him, bolting out of the bathroom doorway and straight into your bedroom, the door slamming shut behind you. Your clothes tumble to the ground as soon as you’re inside, clapping a hand over your mouth as the towel nearly slips off of you. “Oh my god.”

+

You open the store by yourself the next day, your sister claiming she has the flu, your father with a golf game he can’t miss, and your mother with ‘far too many things to do around the house’. You don’t mind it; it’s usually quiet in the mornings, with the exception of the week of Joel, where he’d shown up at nine o’clock nearly on the dot each day.

Once your father got home last night, you’d all but interrogated him. Turns out, Joel had stopped by the store late the night before, walking in just before closing, and he and your dad got to talking. When the subject of the creaky back porch and the broken hallway light came up, Joel had offered his services, and your father had accepted.

A minute after you’ve flipped the sign from closed to open and unlocked the door, a now-familiar pick-up truck pulls up to the parking spot outside the curb. You inhale sharply, nerves and embarrassment in your gut, and you turn away from the door, heading towards the counter, you back to the door as it jingles open.

Joel Miller calls your name. You nearly freeze, but continue your steps until you’re safely behind the counter. You hear his boots squeak on the floor as he approaches, but you can’t bring yourself to lift your head until he’s standing right in front of you, saying your name again.

“Morning, Joel.”

“About yesterday,” he says instantly, a hand reached into the space between you, landing in a loose fist on the countertop. “I had no idea that you were—that it would—” He blows out a breath, ducking his head before meeting your eyes. “I’m sorry, is what I’m tryin’ to say.”

“Y’know, I usually make a man buy me dinner before he sees me half-naked,” you say, the line rolling off your tongue before you can stop yourself. Joel balks, and you clap a hand over your mouth, nervous giggles pouring out of you. “Oh my god, that was cheesy, I’m sorry. And it’s okay, for the record. I should have checked the hallway before I walked out.”

He laughs, you laugh, and the idea sparks in your mind. Your hands move of their own accord, reaching for a pen and a scrap of receipt paper. You scribble out your phone number, accompanied by a little smiley face after the last digit.

“Here,” you say, pushing the paper across the counter, nudging his hand with your own. “Why don’t you take this, and maybe we can see each other someplace besides the paint aisle or outside my bathroom.” When he doesn’t answer right away, that sick feeling of rejection crawls up your throat, and you nearly snatch the paper back. “Or we could just pretend it never happened.”

“Can’t do that,” he murmurs, and his voice is so low and inviting you can’t help but lean across the counter slightly. His eyes dart to the clock on the wall and he curses under his breath. “Shit, I’m gonna be late.” He grabs the paper, folding it up and tucking it into the pocket on his t-shirt. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Okay,” you reply, nodding, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as he touches his hand to yours, fingers glancing over your wrist before he pulls away. He steps backward again, eyes not leaving yours. Thankfully there’s no display in his path for him to topple over, but he only looks away when he reaches the door, that almost-smile you’ve been chasing since the first day you met spreading into a full-blown grin that sends butterflies shooting through your stomach. “Bye, Joel.”

“Bye,” he replies, your name a near-whisper afterward.

As soon as the door shuts, the tinkle of bells echoing, you slump across the counter with a squeal. The bells ding again a second later, and you shoot upright, schooling your face into a normal-looking smile and greeting the customer that’s just walked through the door.

+

It’s nearly ten o’clock that night, when your phone rings.

You’re lounging in bed, a book propped against your knees, Sheryl Crowe crooning out of your stereo. The robotic ring makes you jump, and you hit the answer button quickly, lifting the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Sorry, I know it’s late,” Joel says, and you smile, sinking deeper into the pillows. “Had a long day, and I almost didn’t call, but I really wanted to.”

“I’m glad you did,” you reply, letting the book fall shut on your lap. “What made your day so long?”

It’s easy conversation, the two of you chatting for a good hour. He talks about the job site he’s been working at, his brother that works with him, how his truck nearly broke down when he went to leave, making him late to get home. The call only comes to an end when you’re both making each other yawn, mumbling apologies every time.

“I should let you get some sleep,” Joel nearly whispers, his voice so soft through the phone you barely hear it. “Didn’t mean to keep you up so late.”

“I’m sure you can make it up to me,” you quip, rolling onto your side, keeping the phone pressed to your ear. “But I like talking to you, just for the record.”

“I like talking to you, too,” he replies, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “Just for the record.”

“Are you making fun of me?” you ask, faking shock. He laughs.

“Nah, I just like the way you talk, darlin’,” he says, and the pet name makes you shiver. “I’ll let you go.”

“You didn’t ask,” you say quickly, and he pauses, dead air on the line for a moment.

“What?”

“I said you could make it up to me,” you tell him, rolling onto your back, glancing out the window at the moon, big and white in the dark sky. “That was your opening to ask me out.”

Another pause, and you’re holding your breath, chewing your lip.

“Have dinner with me on Friday?”

You hum, beaming into the phone. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Joel barks a laugh, the biggest one you’ve gotten out of him yet, and you smile harder. “You’re trouble.”

“You’re the one having dinner with me,” you shoot back, and he laughs again, softer this time. “Goodnight, Joel.”

You can tell he’s still smiling. “Goodnight.”

NEXT

#my fics #strawberry wine #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us spoilers

[bby-deerling]

birthday cake (zoro x fem!reader)

more zoro fluff, i'm on a roll lately. recently discovered i share a birthday with brook (even though it's currently ages away), and got this silly little idea. wc 1k, zoro bullies sanji. same reader as my other zoro x reader fics!

Though it may not appear so to an outside observer, Zoro hangs onto every word you have ever said, absorbing them all like a sponge.  It scared him at first, worrying he was getting distracted from his training, but over time he figured that singularly focusing on swordsmanship left him with a lot of empty space in his head to fill.  The things you tell him; your poetic musings, all the technical aspects of the paintings you create, your darkest fears, and your eclectic range of knowledge about almost any topic all get filed away in the back of his brain.

His crew often found themselves flabbergasted when Zoro pulled this information to the forefront.  When Chopper wonders aloud how lasers work, he grabs a napkin and sketches diagrams to accompany his explanation that was at least eighty-percent correct.  When Robin comments on the ever developing impressionistic style of your pieces, she is quite amused that he has quite a lot to say about your brushwork as of late, going so far as to compare the way you hold your brush to his grip on his swords; you had stopped choking up so far on your brush at his suggestion to help increase the fluidity of your marks and seen a large amount of improvement in your work as a result.  During the two years he spent on Kuraigana, he drove Perona up a wall whenever he caught her reading a book he recognized and gave her his very strong opinions on the characters that were entirely based on a brief synopsis you had given him.

That’s why it makes him absolutely crazy when he realizes the stupid, shitty cook has forgotten your birthday, one of the most basic, mundane things about you.

“What’s the plan for tomorrow?” Zoro had asked him, leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed.

“Nothing too far out of the ordinary.  I suppose I’ll make a cake despite the fact that Brook can’t really taste it; I know Luffy will want to throw a big party—” Sanji began, before being cut off.

“Moron.  Aren’t you forgetting something?” Zoro asks, voice dropping and laced with venom.

Sanji goes pale white with the realization that you shared a birthday with Brook—he had bought you a gift ages ago and forgotten about it, the exact date vaporizing into thin air.

“I can’t believe you forgot it’s her birthday too, especially after all the nonsense she did for yours last month.  I told her it wasn’t worth it, but she insisted anyways.” Zoro hisses, jaw clenched.

Sanji ignores Zoro’s hostility and begins flipping through recipes, deciding on an elaborate, three tier sponge cake with strawberry flavored icing.

“She doesn’t want that.” Zoro said, staring over his shoulder.

“Remind me what your job is here again, moss-head?” the cook asks, cigarette in his mouth snapping as he bites down on it in frustration.

Zoro goes to the cabinet that harbors his liquor stash and pulls out a small cardboard box he had bought at the last island.  “This is what she wants.  Do you have the special pan for it?”

Sanji examines the box of angel food cake mix and sighs.  “I’m not feeding her cake mix for her birthday, moss-head.  I’ll make one from scratch.” he says, swearing under his breath when he realized how much of a dent it was going to put into the ship’s supply of eggs due to the sheer amount of egg whites required.

“She wants the box mix.  It’s what she grew up having.  If you won’t make it I will.” Zoro insists, pushing the box back towards the cook.  “You know those cookies she likes from that bakery on her home island?  With tons of sugar piled on top?”

Sanji nods.  “I’ve been there. Zeff and I stole the recipe years ago.  It’s really just a basic sugar cookie—"

“They have to be in the shapes of lambs.” Zoro said.  Sanji desperately searches the moss-head’s face for any sign of him not being serious, but he turns up empty.

“Where the hell am I going to get a cookie cutter shaped like a lamb in the middle of the ocean?” Sanji snaps, secretly grateful for Zoro’s assistance but nonetheless vexed by his the swordsman’s demanding tone.

“Dunno, but you better figure it out soon.” Zoro says with a shrug, thoroughly enjoying the emotional turmoil that this entire situation was causing Sanji.  “Ask Usopp or Franky to make one for you, though who knows if they’re willing at this hour.”  Sanji clenches his jaw and nods and picks up a napkin that Zoro has scribbled a rough sketch on, making a mental note to bring it to Usopp later.

As Zoro turns to walk out of the kitchen, Sanji can’t help but throw him one last remark, despite not being in the position to do so. 

“I’m surprised you remembered all this, moss-head.  I thought all that was between your ears was empty space and ear wax.” he says, not looking up from his recipe book.

“You’re surprised I pay attention when she talks?” Zoro asks incredulously.  Sanji sighs, knowing he practically walked into that one, and prepares for another verbal lash.

“I hope I don’t have to tell you her favorite meals too.  Honestly, I don’t even see why we keep you around when you can’t even get this right without my help.  Stuff like this is why Nami doesn’t give you the time of day, besides being an idiot pervert and all—”

“Out of the kitchen now, moss for brains.” Sanji snaps, shoving his boot into his back and kicking him towards the exit.  Before he closes the door, Zoro pokes his head through the opening.

“No frosting.” he says.  “Don’t forget.”

“None at all?  You’re certain?” Sanji asks incredulously.  Zoro nods affirmatively and slams the door to the kitchen, finally giving the cook some peace and quiet, fingers rubbing his temples to get rid of the headache that the swordsman had given him.

The next day, your shared birthday party with Brook in the Sunny's kitchen is the most memorable you’ve ever had, and you’re nothing short of amazed when Sanji pulls out cake and cookies identical to the kind your mother always served you.

The wonder in your eyes at how Sanji was able to replicate the desserts dissipates and is replaced by appreciation and understanding when Zoro grins at you and squeezes your thigh under the table, a silent admission that he'd helped the cook put everything together.

No wonder everything turned out so perfect; how could it not when he pays so much attention to what you need?

#one piece x reader #zoro x reader #x reader #zoro x you #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #i feel a lil bit sorry for sanji in this lol #i love writing them arguing

[h-33-s-3-ung]

Adventure in the fitting rooms

Jay smut MDNI

Synopsis: it’s your birthday so your boyfriend takes you to your favorite boutique and is willing to buy you everything but he has something else planned.

Warnings: public sex, exhibitionism, dirty talk. (Lmk if something is missing)

Word count: ≈2200

"Good morning princess"

That was the first thing you heard the second you woke up. Jay, your boyfriend of now 2 years was sitting next to you in bed patiently waiting for your slumber to be over.

"Guess what day it is today" Jay asked with a slight smirk on his face.

You were still half asleep so the only thing you could respond was:

"It’s Saturday?"

"Awn are you still sleepy? It’s your birthday today! Did you forget?"

Your eyes grew wide as you realized you had forgotten your own birthday. Yet, you were happy that your sweet boyfriend remembered it.

"I have a surprise for you, come with me." Jay said making a follow me gesture with his hand.

You rubbed your eyes as you walked out of your room.

"TA-DA" Jay exclaimed making you jump slightly.

Jay has prepared a giant breakfast just for you with everything you loved. There were pancakes covered in maple syrup and whipped cream, strawberries, raspberries, bacon, sausage and of course an iced coffee.

You were now fully awake and jumping from joy.

"OMG Jay you did all this by yourself? It looks so good!" You said, your mouth watering intensely as you sat down in front of the giant plate.

"Dig in!" He responded sitting to your left.

Without waisting a single second, you took your knife and fork and quickly cut out a piece of pancake. Making sure you got all the toppings and fruits in your bite and your shoved it in your mouth. Your eyes closed and your body went limp for a few seconds as you were tasting all your favorite things all at once.

"It’s good?" Jay asked curiously.

"Words can’t even describe the taste, it’s just magical" you responded mouth still full.

Jay found you funny and adorable eating like a little kid, mouth covered and dancing at the good flavour.

"Can I get a bite?" Your boyfriend asked in a cute tone.

You prepared a piece with once again all the toppings and brought it close to his mouth before stopping suddenly.

"What…" your boyfriend asked confused at your sudden action.

"Airplane!" You simply responded. "Whrrrrriiiiii!" You imitated the sound of an airplane while moving the fork closer to your boyfriends mouth. He sight but opened his mouth cutely. You were dying of laughter at your boyfriend’s reaction and gave him a soft kiss on his cheek.

You were done with your plate shortly after and thanked your boyfriend for making such an amazing breakfast.

"Wait, I have one more surprise for you…" He responded mysteriously.

He gave you a small envelope with your name written on it and a heart in the top right corner. You thought it would just be an ordinary card like the previous ones, describing his endless love for you. But there was more than just a cute message inside.

"You’re not serious, are you?" You asked your mouth hanging open.

He shrugged his shoulders and gave you a sweet look. Inside the card was a 1500$ gift card to your favorite luxury boutique. You couldn’t hide your excitement anymore and jumped in his arms kissing him all over his face thanking him over and over again.

"Can we go now Jay, pretty please?" You asked in a cute tone.

"Of course darling. Go get ready and we can go." He replied still smiling.

You gave him one last kiss before going to the bathroom to do your makeup and put on a cute dress.

20 minutes later

"Okay I’m ready!" You exclaimed from behind the couch where your beautiful boyfriend was sitting. He got up, turned around, and froze.

"Wow! How do you look so pretty?" He said in admiration.

You were wearing a black dress and a red corset that accentuated your beautiful curves.

"Thank you baby." You shyly responded.

"Okay let’s go before I change my mind for some dirty stuff." Jay said grabbing your hand and walking out the door.

The car ride there was about 15 minutes and you were blasting his group’s last album, dark blood, the whole time. Jay glanced at you laughing at your cuteness a few times. He could watch you dance to their songs for hours and never get tired, but he was driving so he sadly has to pay attention.

"Alright we’re here. You can get anything you want but one condition." He said.

"What is it?" You asked confused.

"You let me pick a lingerie set for you and you must try it on in front of me, got it?" He said seriously, holding your chin.

You were practically drooling at the idea and all you could respond was "okay"

“Let’s go!" He said, his expression immediately changing to his usual soft and cute expression whenever he’s out with you.

You opened the door and was immediately greeted by the employee there, she knew you and your boyfriend very well. Not only because she was a big fan of Enhypen but also because over the time. She had become your friend since you were so kind to everyone. You hugged her immediately as a greeting.

"Are you guys looking for anything?" She kindly asked

Jay got down to your level and whispered in your ear "go check out the clothes and shoes, I will check the lingerie okay?" You nodded and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before making your way to the shoe section first.

"I’m looking for some lingerie for my girlfriend. It’ her birthday today." He told her proudly.

"Oh I see. Follow me I’ll show you what I think will suit her best." She responded kindly.

•

You arrived in the shoe section and immediately spotted a pair you had been wanting for years. Some black heels with a small platform at the front and some pearls around the opening where your foot goes. You immediately checked if there was your size in stock and lucky for you, there was a pair. You tried them on and they were absolutely perfect. No second thought. You had to get them. Plus they were on sale at 350$ instead of 600$. "What a steal" you thought to yourself.

Happy, you made your way to the dress section. Wandering around trying to spot something you liked. Bingo! There it was. The dress you showed jay a few weeks ago. It was exactly your style. Black and white with lace on the top and on the border of the skirt. You looked for your size and, it was definitely your lucky day today, because there was one last dress in your size. It was 250$. Luckily your boyfriend had given you this gift card otherwise you could never afford these on your own.

"Y/N, Baby! I found something!" You heard your boyfriend say from a far.

You quickly made your way towards the direction of his voice and found him next to a fitting room with a lingerie set in his hands.

"Milady." He said bowing down like a prince.

Thank you good sir. Would you like to join me perhaps?" You said elegantly.

"Hell yeah." He said, breaking character suddenly.

"Look at what I found!" You said happily as you showed him your dress and shoes.

"Wow they are so beautiful. How much were they?" He asked.

"600$ together, 350 for the shoes and 250 for the dress." You responded.

"Can I see the shoes on?" He asked

You put them on and posed like a mannequin happily.

"They were made for you. It makes you taller!" He said laughing.

"Oh shut up." You replied also laughing.

"Okay the dress now and keep the shoes." He said.

You did as he said, asking him to turn around so that it would be a surprise.

"Okay, look!" You said. Tapping your feet in excitement as he did.

"OH MY- Damn baby." He said admiring your curves accentuated by the expensive dress.

"What do you think?" You asked seductively yet cutely.

"I think it’s making me hard. Look." He pointed down to his pants where you could see a tent forming.

"Do I look this good?" You asked him bending down to show your cleavage a little more.

"If only you could see what I’m seeing." He said almost drooling.

You blushed and started kissing him.

"Wait, I have an idea. Take the dress off, keep the shoes, and put on this lingerie set I chose for you." He got closer to your ear and continued "Then, if you agree, we can have a little session here."

"What if she catches us?" You said, talking about the employee that is also your friend.

"That’s what’s so exciting about it. Last time, when we fucked at the dorm and you heard Heeseung approaching the room and calling my name, I felt you tighten around me. I know you like the idea of doing it when other’s are around. Plus, you can muffle your moans in your dress." He explained.

He wasn’t wrong. So, you quickly took the dress off and changed into the lingerie Jay had chosen for you. He was touching his erection over his pants as he watched you change, making you wet.

"How do I look?" You asked giving him a twirl.

"Delicious." He simply replied pulling his dick out of his pants.

"That looks delicious too." You replied. "Can I suck it?" You asked.

"No. It’s your birthday. I just want to make you feel good and not slow things down." He said looking at you with siren eyes.

He pulled you in closer by the waist and kissed your lips and your neck before turning you around so you were facing the mirror.

"I want you to look at yourself while I fuck you. Okay?" He said.

You simply nodded in response. He then pushed the underwear part of your matching lace set to the side before inserting his long and thick cock inside. His hand was on your mouth as he knew you wouldn’t be able to contain your moans. You saw as your face contorted in pleasure, your eyebrows furrowed and your eyes rolling at the back of your head. What a sight for your boyfriend who’s eyebrows did the same as yours and his mouth hung opened from the sensation.

"You feel so good baby" you whimpered softly.

"Oh yeah? You like it? You like it when I fuck your tiny pussy in public? Huh?"

You only moaned in response. Luckily the music in this store was a little bit loud so your sinful noises were hidden by it.

Jay picked up the pace as he felt you tighten around his length in response to his dirty talk.

"You’re gonna cum already? You’re gonna make a mess on the floor for me princess?" He said in a deep voice next to your ear.

"Yes." You managed to moan softly in response. As you came all over his dick and leaked a little on the floor and your brand new expensive set.

"I’m gonna cum. Wanna suck me off now?" He asked out of breath.

You got on your knees and wrapped your mouth around him just in time as he came almost instantly. You hummed at his taste as he moaned softly, from the intense orgasm.

"Let’s clean you and the floor up so we won’t be suspicious." He proposed.

You took a few tissues out of your purse and wiped the floor first then your folds.

"Wait, the lingerie is all wet. I can’t take it off and show her." You said concerned.

"No problem, here" He said removing the tag. "I’ll give her the tag and explain you wanted to keep it on, okay?"

"You’re so smart MR Park." You said giving him a hug.

Jay got out of the fitting room with all your new purchases, you, on the other hand, stayed inside to get dressed.

•

"Here, I’ll pay for it while she get’s dressed." He explained to the employee.

"No problem. Everything fitted?" She asked.

"Perfectly. Oh and she kept the lingerie set on since she loved it so much but here’s the tag." He explained

"Oh no problem at all." She said innocently, not knowing the real reason behind it.

You came out of the fitting room soon after as if nothing happened.

"There you go. I wish you both an amazing day and a happy birthday to you y/n." She said smiling brightly.

"Thank you so much. See you next time!" Your boyfriend responded.

"Bye! Have an amazing day!" You responded giving her a warm hug and waving goodbye.

"We’ll that was hot." You told your boyfriend as you walked back to your car.

"Happy birthday princess. We should do this every year." He responded.

"Sure." You replied hugging his arm as you continued your short walk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There is the story for jay! Hope you like it. I’m quite proud of this one to be honest. I’ll try my best to keep writing stories. If you have any suggestions for the other members, let me know! Love you.❤️

#enhypen smut #enhypen x reader smut #jay smut #Enhypen jay smut #smut #enhypen imagines

[nylwnder]

lake house

a/n: HELLO SWEETIES!!!!! welcome to my first 2024 fic n series! i started it off with ryan cause if you know me, you know he was everything to me for the 4 months we had him. also, HUGE SHOUTOUT to @shoot-the-puck for in a way co-writing this and the others with me i love you so much scoob thank you for being my asylum roomie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! anyways, enjoy and dont forget to tune in to the other drops <3 mwah!

pairing: ryan o’reilly x fem!reader

warnings: SMUT, its giving soft sex (unprotected), lowkey body worship, lowkey exhibitionism, childhood friends to lovers, use of “snook” and ryan being such husband material. gawdamn.

word count: 1.9k

taglist: @11livpangburn , @domi-max , @boqvistsbabe , @sweetiet , @p1tstop , @occasionallyaurora , @laurenairay, @fallinallincurls

series masterpost

the drive to the lake house was as calming as ever. although it was a couple hours, it was a trip you knew all too well. one you were dying to take every june the minute the last bell rang for summer break.

sometimes it was just you, your parents and your brother. most times, it was you and the o’reilly family. a lot of kids shared between two vans, snacking on chips and freezies from the coolers at the back of the cars.

the tradition never stopped when the lot grew older. you escaped to the house every time your winter term ended, then after your internship finished, and then when you could use up all your saved vacation time from your new job. ryan always followed when his nhl duties came to an end. both respective families coming in to stay in between.

that being said, this was the first time you drove to the lake house with ryan in the driver's seat and with you in the passenger's seat. it was the first summer since he came back home to toronto. but more so, to you. officially.

he was sick of waiting until your usual shared break, and you were very much sick of coming home to a cold bed.

before any headline could find you, ryan called you that night. and it was as if the 100 ton weight was being lifted off of your desperate shoulders. because it was. after ten years of long and needy facetimes, one-night lustful visits, and the best stanley cup celebration you two could possibly have imagined, you were going to have him, at your full disposal, “whenever you fucking want” as ryan had told you.

ryan put the car in park and you couldn’t help but smile about the fact that this would be the first time you’d be stepping into that house, as a proud pair. the “finally” ’s already shed by your parents who were following in behind the two of you.

—

the first night was spent with take out, laughs, pjs and movies and it always makes you grateful for growing up with a group with such a tight knit bond. your heart was full when you heard inside jokes from circa. 2006 running through the house — which are still ever so applicable, presently.

the next day, you didn’t wake until you heard the cars drive off in the late afternoon. it had been a while since you had the time to sleep in, so it seemed your body pranced at the chance. after heading to the bathroom, you couldn’t find ryan in the rooms or common areas. he always made sure you get as much sleep as you need, not only because he knows how grumpy you get if you don’t, but also because he always wants the best for you.

as you made your way to the kitchen, you looked out the windows casing the large lake. you saw the large figure of the man sitting at the edge of the dock and didn’t do anything else but make the walk over to him.

you sat beside him as he turned to face you with a toothless smile. you smiled at it, you always told him he looked cute like that, and he started listening to you. “sleep good, sweetheart?” he asks as he looks down to cut the leaf caps off the pack of strawberries between his legs. “wonderful” you emphasised before you reached for the strawberry he handed you. “i’m glad. you deserve it.”

you took a bite out of the soft strawberry, the juices from the flesh spilling into your mouth. you couldn’t help but let out a little innocent moan. the first time you tried these, they were immediately the best strawberries you have ever had in your entire life. and they just so happen to be locally farmed near the lakehouse.

ryan giggled, “had to stop by the market and buy you a few packs during my run. wouldn’t be a lake house summer without these guys right here.”

“this is why i love you. thank you.”

he only responded by handing you the bigger piece between the two in his hand. you put your head on his shoulder as you two looked out in front of you. the sun was bright but not exhausting, as the wind from the water dismissed the heat.

“the folks went to gather some things for this week's meal plan.”

you hummed a response. but it got you thinking. and so you didn't waste time.

you turned yourself around in order to lay your upper body on ryan’s lap. he placed the knife and strawberries safely aside as he smiled. you gave him a small smile before shutting your eyes for a bit.

you reached for ryan’s hands from his sides. you played with his big and thick fingers for a bit, before taking his hand and placing it on top of your shirt. then you moved his hand under the hem. as you began to move it further up, the material of your shirt wrinkled with your movements and began to expose your skin.

ryan kept his hand in your grip and his eyes firm on you. you kept moving it up, reaching the curves of your boobs. “take it off” you mumbled as he obliged. taking off the tshirt and throwing it on top of the other items he had set aside.

you didn't reach for his hands again. he knows what to do. he always knows, ever since your first kiss.

the sun shined on your supple flesh. his calloused hands moved back to your curves. pushing down your pants a tad, in order to squeeze your love handles. later, his fingers lightly trace up the soft line marks found upon your hips, and the ones on the sides of your breasts.

your cheeks begin to mimic the berry blush as you open your eyes to look at ryan. you loved how comfortable you are to be vulnerable around him. you always felt adored, and safe.

he pulled you up swiftly, allowing your legs to straddle him. your arms naturally wrap around his broad shoulders. you look into his gentle eyes, “i love you, snook.” you lean in for a tender kiss but his hands push your body tight into his. “i love you more, sweetness.” his lips finally meet yours and he envelopes you perfectly. “always have. always will.” he whispers.

his lips meet your cheek as he leaves wet kisses on your jaw and neck. you let soft moans escape your parted lips, your body melting into his figure. ryan often joked that his body was made for you specifically, with the way you fit against him so perfectly.

“gorgeous.” he whispers into your ear as his beard scrapes against you. you bite your lip at his words. one he's been telling you since you grew butterflies in your stomach every time you saw him. “want you snook” you plead, your pussy twitching as his hands squeeze your bust. you grind down on him, and he huffs outs. “just had you yesterday morning, honey.”

“dont play with me, ry. you know i always need you.”

he hums in response. “thats true. i can never say no to my girl.”

he lifts you once again, getting to lay you down on the thin throw ryan had brought out with him. your eyes close again as the sun hits your face, but you feel kisses pressed all over your skin. ryan’s lips trace from your lips to your cheeks down along your jaw, and onto your neck once more. he sheds a few soft nips while he makes sure your panties and shorts are discarded.

its not long before he nips on your nipples, noises escaping your exposed body. your fingers pull down his own shorts and you feel his cock against your skin.

two digits slip smoothly into your damp cunt as ryan cups your face. you bite up a cry. but before you know it, he’s lined up at your entrance and you're pleading for him to move.

you let out a lewd moan as he pushes in. ryan followed with a low groan and you clenched around him immediately, “that’s my sweet girl. so divine.” he says as he gives kisses on the edges of your collarbone.

his thrusts are a blend of slow, long and quick, hard movements. his hands held your hips as he didn't let his lips leave your body. his hair tickles your chin as he gives your breasts some love once again. you felt yourself reaching the goal closer and closer. the all too familiar feeling of your wet walls stretching around ryan’s thick length driving him crazy.

your effect on him was always so strong. right from when you both were young. the minute you got hurt, it broke ryan to see you cry. it was his dire mission to help clean you up or provide you with the necessary pick me up. oftentimes that was bringing you your favourite snack or sometimes a kiss on your cheek was all you needed. when you laughed, ryan laughed. and even when it seemed like ryan and your brother were picking on you, he always made sure to give you a hug later on. he would never hurt you. and he'd never let anyone hurt you. that was for sure.

you were pleased that there were laughs, screams and talk from the surrounding residents that can help drown out your shared sounds. at the same time you couldn't possibly care if they heard either. your mind was far too fuzzy.

“make me cum snook. make me cum all over your cock” you were desperate and needy, i think that was already established. ry smiled at your words, pulling your body up into him once again.

your arms were so tight around him, you stuck to his body like gum on a shoe. he pumped into you as you also began riding his length. the way your body swayed with your hips helped bring ryan even closer to his climax.

your head fell back as you felt the wave of pleasure overcome you. ryan continued your movements for you until your whines dyed down. once you both finished you kept yourself on his lap “don't move, ry. still need you there.” you mumbled.

“till they come back?”

“please.”

a smile appeared on both of your faces. droplets of sweat trickled down his chest and you crushed them with your finger as your head laid on his shoulder. his hands rubbed the sides of your body as his face was cuddled on top of your head. his nose tucked into your thick hair. your smell, your weight, your breathing and your warmth calmed him. his mind never wandered off. he was the most present, the most grounded with you, like this.

“why is it that every time we have sex you’re so quiet?” you asked ryan as you looked up at him. it was a thought you had often so you figured you’d ask. “sometimes you used to make me feel as if i did something wrong…” you said with a little titter.

he scoffed, “no honey, you could never.” you smiled. “you just take the breath out of my lungs”

you both start laughing. “you’re a pro hockey player and i’m the one who can kill you? i’ll take it.”

ryan lets out a chuckle again. “all i know is words cannot express how i feel when i’m with you, but i want to experience it till my dying days.”

your heart warmed. you grab his face and eagerly kiss him. “and so you will.”

[ enjoyed reading? join my taglist! : click here <3 ]

#nylwnder’s slutty series! #ryan o’reilly #ryan oreilly #toronto maple leafs #nashville predators #ryan o’reilly fic #ryan o’reilly smut #nhl #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl x fem reader #nhl x reader #nhl smut #nhl writing #nhl x fem!reader #hockey writing #hockey fic #hockey imagine #hockey x reader #hockey x fem!reader #hockey x fem reader #hockey smut #toronto maple leafs fic #toronto maple leafs imagine #toronto maple leafs smut #toronto maple leafs x reader #toronto maple leafs x fem!reader #nashville predators fic #nashville predators smut

[artzee-bee]

Forever my love | Adrien Agreste x reader

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Requested by @oyasumimosura

Summary: friends to strangers to lovers with a no-so-happy ending

Genre: some fluff, angst

Warnings: canon typical violence (maybe tuned up a notch tho), death

A/N: my google doc for this piece is 10 pages long and it’s went through at least 4 alternate endings before getting here. I got this request months ago and have been working on it since, whenever I can. I hope this is alright because it’s been a journey...

~~~

There was no ‘first memory’ with you. Not one that would come to Adrien’s mind anyways. It felt like you had simply always been in his life. The only thing he remembered was you and your mother, entering the Agreste mansion as if it was your own, almost every Sunday. His mom would welcome both of you with wide arms and offer you tea, and biscuits, which you would snuck to Adrien’s room. Your favorite have always been the ones with strawberry jam filling.

And then you’d play for hours! Building fortresses out of chairs and pillows, racing toy cars around the room, saving plush animals from the imminent danger of Adrien’s rocketship and so on. Not a single moment spent with you felt boring! Your presence was addictive, the joy, the excitement you brought with yourself every time was something Adrien couldn’t understand at the time but now, as an adult looking back, he could easily recognise it as love.

But the world has its own way of never quite letting you be happy enough. The memory of your last playdate, as well as the day his parents told him you were moving away, were very hazy and unclear. For years he refused to revisit them, the sorrow too great for his young, immature self to know how to handle. Now, there was only one sentence he could remember you saying, clear as day. One promise that gave him more hope than he could put in words. “We’ll keep in touch”.

You exchanged letters the whole time you were away!! Of course, they could never be a substitute for the time spent together but Adrien learned to appreciate them deeply. He took his time responding to each of them and always nervously awaited your response. Years went on like that! Every summer you’d promise to visit and every time Adrien would have the displeasure of having to read, in your flawless and delicate handwriting, that your parents canceled the trip for whatever reason.

Eventually, he decided it was best to move on. In the time you had been gone many things changed: he grew up, got big in the fashion industry, started school, became the new black cat miraculous holder, made friends! His life became overwhelmingly busy and the precious memories you made together faded away without notice. He found joy in other things and in his new friends! Your letters no longer brought the excitement they once did and consequently, he always postponed replying until eventually, it all stopped.

Much to Adrien’s shock, almost exactly a year after losing contact, he saw you! He had been transformed at the time, having just finished defeating an akuma when he saw you exiting a coffee shop down the street. He couldn’t believe his eyes and had it not been for the alarming beeping of his miraculous, he probably would have stayed petrified on top of that roof much longer. Once detransformed, he tried to go looking for you but to no avail.

It wasn’t until a week later that he finally got to talk to you again. Natalie reached out to your family and arranged for you two to meet. That Friday afternoon, you had lunch at a pizza place that you didn’t recognise. He looked the same. Same innocent glimmer in his eyes and ecstatic voice. It almost weirded you out how much it seemed this boy never changed. But of course, you weren’t right. Many things have changed.

Adrien tried his best to be open and friendly. To him, it felt like no time had passed at all, but you were so quiet and shy. A subtle frown was visible on your face from the moment you arrived and you barely looked him in the eyes. The air around you felt thick with discomfort, which was extremely frustrating to Adrien. He wanted to ask what’s wrong but found it so difficult to speak his mind until, eventually, you opened up yourself.

“Why did you stop writing?” your voice didn’t betray any feeling of anger or sadness and yet, Adrien was instantly washed over with guilt

“I’m sorry. I wanted to but…”

“Was I not worth it?”

“What?” Adrien couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth, but you were just as still and cold as before

“Because, you see, when we were kids you were one of the most important people in my life. You were my best friend and I honestly thought we would never ever be apart! No one could ever break us up! And I put everything I had into not losing that, convinced that you’d do the same for me! Because your friendship was worth more to me than any number of kilometers between us!” your words fell out quickly and stung him “Was I not worth fighting for, Adrien?”

He didn’t know what to say! He wanted to tell you he was just stupid and made a grave mistake. That you were more than worth it, but the words were stuck in his throat.

You didn’t speak after that. Adrien was heartbroken but figured you were already so mad at him, it would only make it worse if he kept pestering you on.

Eventually, one night, after patrol, he saw you! It was already way after dark and you were just strolling down the street all alone. A sense of anxiety overtook him and he knew he couldn’t go home just yet

“Good evening pretty lady!” he greeted you, full of glee. “The streets can get pretty nasty this late at night, y’know? Hope you don’t mind if this street cat walks alongside you for a while.”

“Hello Chat Noir!” your voice was so smooth and warm “ I’d really love that. I was actually quite uncomfortable walking alone.” “Well then, fear not!The bravest and strongest hero in all of Paris is right here at your service! Did I also mention the most charming?” you giggled to his silliness

Adrien was ecstatic to get to talk to you again, like old times. He finally felt like he got his friend back! He didn’t even realize how big of a hole your absence had left in his life. After that night, he would accompany you everyday on your evening walks and, soon enough, you began hanging out at your house. Oftentimes he would knock on your bedroom window shortly after you got home from school and more often than not, he would spend hours at your place. You did almost everything together from playing video games to watching movies, cooking, gossiping. He would tell you all the fun stories he had with Ladybug from their patrols and would blush a little when you began laughing uncontrollably. It was just too cute.

With all this joy, still there was an ounce of pain at the idea that you didn’t know who you were really talking to. Almost every time you called him Chat, his heart would sting a little. He liked being Chat Noir. He loved it even. With you however, it just felt like one big lie he could do nothing about. He wanted you to look at him and see the boy from all those years ago. To look at him and call him by his name. To rejoice in old memories, instead of him having to pretend he hears the story for the first time. Adrien couldn’t help but feel like he was betraying you by simply being here, knowing how mad you were with his civilian self. When those thoughts got to him, he felt more alone than ever, but you almost always picked up on it

“What’s wrong?” you would ask and the sweetness of your voice ran like ice down his body. You would not be this kind if you knew

“Absolutely nothing, I am doing wonderful” he’d say through gritted teeth

“Sit down and talk to me!”

“I can’t. It’s personal” which you knew really meant “It would put my identity in danger”

So you would shut up. You’d make tea or let him have the last cookie as a sign of solidarity. To let him know you still cared. Sometimes he would ask you for hugs, which you would indulge him in. You’d wrap your arms around his shoulders and hug him tight to your chest, trying to convey all the love and care you had for him in that one gesture. Almost always, the hero would melt into your embrace as if he’d never been held before. His head would rest on your shoulder and his blonde locks tickled your neck and cheek.

Confessing to you was the biggest risk he ever took, which meant a lot considering his occupation. It happened after yet another game of cards lost by Chat. It had been what felt like his 15th loss of the night and in a futile attempt to protect his remaining dignity, he slipped

“You’re only winning cause I love you too much to let you lose!” the cocky attitude dropped instantly as he processed his choice of words. You were just looking at him, a little quizzingly, unsure if you heard him right.

“Do you mean that?”

“I do”

The brightest smile overtook your features instantly “Good. I love you too!”

It was difficult for a long time. The secret identity issue became even greater with the new level of intimacy that was expected with the start of a romantic relationship. On top of that, Adrien was pretty clueless. You were his first girlfriend, the first girl he ever fell in love with, the pressure was high. He wanted to be the best boyfriend there was! He brought you many gifts, big and small. He spent as much time with you as he could, he always told you just how much you actually meant to him. The blush on your cheeks and the witty comebacks made him melt through his seat every time and with every happy memory he made with you came the unmistakable pain of never really being completely honest with you. On one of your sleepovers, the feelings were overwhelming Chat more than he thought was possible

“What’s going on Chat?”

“Nothing darling. Just tired”

“Come on, you know you can’t fool me! You’ve been quiet all night, it’s really unlike you”

Adrien’s mind went empty when you sat on the floor in front of him, lightly running your fingers over his leather clad ones. The trust and love in your eyes was so mesmerizing. No one had ever looked at him like that and for a split second he imagined your reaction if you knew who he was. He wondered if you’d kick him out. Break up with him here and now and never want anything to do with him ever again. He imagined the anger in your voice, the betrayal. And then, he considered, briefly, a different option. A scenario in which you’d hug him tight and kiss the top of his head, and there’d be no more lies. No more secrets, no more of these impossible feelings that were tormenting him. That smile, that bliss, engulfed his mind and he felt powerless in the face of hope.

“I’m sorry” he said weakly

“For what?” and before he could think for another second, talk himself out or consider the consequences of his actions, he did the only thing he felt was logical

“Plagg, claws in”

When the green light vanished and Adrien found himself back in his normal clothes, he didn’t muster to look at your face

“Chat, what are you doing?” finally, he glanced up, only to find you curled up on the ground, with your hands over your eyes. You hadn’t seen him

“It’s ok.”

“You detransformed?”

“Yes…”

“Chat you can’t do that.”

“I want you to see me” he tried to sound confident, but it came out almost as a plea.

“What about Ladybug?”

“I’ll deal with her later. It’s ok. I swear”

“Chat…”

“Please”

Adriean reached out to pull your hands away from your face, but your eyes were still closed

“Chat?”

“Yes?”

“Before I look, I want you to know that I love you regardless of who you are. If you’re doing this because you think I can’t love you fully without knowing your identity, if you’re doing this for me, please know that this won’t change anything. I want you to be comfortable with this, ok?” Adrien blushed, feeling tears well up in his eyes

“I want to do this” he kissed your knuckles “if that’s ok with you”

Slowly, you opened your eyes and Adrien felt his heart beating out of his chest. Your face went soft and your eyes welled up with tears and you looked at eachother. You couldn’t muster a word and neither could he. He took this as you being disappointed and let go of your hand, only for you to grab it once more, much harder than before. Finally, tears came rolling down your cheeks, as you whispered a simple “I love you”

That night, neither of you could stop crying. The liberation of all secrets and all lies felt divine and finally, Adrien felt like he was 100% safe for the first time in his life.

Many things changed after that. Adrien got a serious scolding from Ladybug, since he couldn’t lie to her about what he’s done. She wasn’t as mad as he expected her to be, so in the end it was all worth it when you began showing up to the Agreste mansion to hang out. It was hard for Adrien to find time to spend with her during the day but Natalie was always so understanding of their relationship and tried her best to squeeze in an hour or two here and there for you! Now, Adrien could hold your hand and take you to his photoshoots. You facetimed more often and it finally felt like you got the relationship you were always meant to have.

~~~

Paris looked beautiful from the top of the Eiffel tower. Chat took you here many times before. It felt so romantic being up there with your best friend, the boy of your dreams! You felt so powerful looking down at all the lights and cars passing by and at the same time so protected by his tight grip around your waist. Nothing could hurt you if he was there, with or without the costume! But the arms holding you now were much slimmer and much less concerned with your safety. You knew you shouldn’t look down from the edge you were standing on but it was so hard not to. Lila was manic next to you, laughing and shouting about her imminent victory, taunting the two superheroes that were struggling to catch up.The tiny robots Lila could control with her powers had kept Ladybug and Chat Noir busy for just enough time to allow the akumatized girl to take you with her, away from the scene and up here.

“Be careful with what you do next Ladybug, otherwise the girl gets it!” the taunting manner in which she spoke felt hardly like Lila. You never found her to be a particularly pleasant person to be around but the malice with which she spoke now was so unusual!

She kicked your shin, making one of your legs drop off the edge. Had it not been for her holding onto your forearm, you would have dropped. You could see Ladybug and Chat approaching but they were so far away and it felt like they were moving so slowly. A cry ripped through your chest as you hung there, your life in the hands of this girl you couldn’t even recognise anymore.You were trying to pull yourself back on the ledge with your other foot before she kicked that one too, swinging you in the air by your arm.

“Oh oh, but you’re so far away little Bug? Whatever are you gonna do if my hand …slips?” she let go with a chuckle.

Chat couldn’t see anything around him anymore, all he saw was your helpless body falling from the sky! He screamed your name but he was still so far! Ladybug threw her yoyo, trying to form a net below you, but the speed at which you were falling was much greater than anybody expected. You fell right through the net, breaking it to pieces and hit the ground with a hard thud. Chat screamed, Ladybug was speechless, all the while Lila was laughing on her way down!

“Chat, get her! I’ll handle Lila!”

That’s all it took. Chat was looking down at your unconscious form before he knew it. You were so bloody and so limp in his arms.

“Don’t!” you whispered when he tried to pick you up

“It’s not safe for you here, I need to hide you away!” he almost screamed, too relieved to see you alive to be able to control himself

“It’s over Chat!”

“Don’t talk like that! You will be ok! I will make you ok!”

“I’m tired…”

“No, don’t do it! Focus on me, focus on my voice! Can you see me?”

“You have to protect the people…”

“You are the only one I have to protect! I’m sorry I wasn’t there to catch you, I’m sorry! Please! Please let me protect you!” tears were streaming down his face and he found himself thinking that he would sell his soul to switch places with you

“Chat, I love you” you said through your own tears

“Don’t say goodbye!”

“I’m not”

“I love you Y/N! I love you so much, please don’t leave me alone! I can still save you!” he laid his head on your chest, not believing his own words

“I’ll always love you Adrian!” you whispered in his ear, kissing his temple with the last of your powers

~~~

“You need to hurry up, Adrian needs to be at a press conference across town in one hour and we’re already behind schedule because of you!”

“Nathalie, stop that! Everyone is doing their best here.”

“This photoshoot was supposed to be over already!”

“Maybe you should go have some water while you wait, yeah?” Adrien was trying to be nice but he felt really bad about the way Nathalie was speaking to the makeup artist. He knew they were very busy and Nath was under a great deal of stress but still, he felt it wasn’t fair to the girls working hard to get him ready.

“I’m sorry about that! She’s a lovely person, it’s just the last couple of days have been really hard for her”

“Oh, it’s alright, sir. Trust me I’ve seen much worse before” the young girl replied “Plus, I would imagine that making the switch to become a full time model would bring on a lot more responsibilities on her side.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Adrien chuckled. “If you would have told me last year, when I was still in school, that my schedule would be even more packed as a graduate, I would have probably given up modeling then and there. Now I just deal with it.”

Adrien observed himself in the mirror, thinking back to his high school days. He tried to remember what he looked like, although that was very difficult. He knew his hair was much longer now, reaching just below his chin. He thought his face was a bit slimmer and many people told him he put on a healthy amount of muscle in the last couple of months, but  he was still himself, just 20.

“If you don’t mind sir, we need the first couple of buttons of your shirt undone for the next set. I will add a little contour to the collarbones and then we’re done”

Said and done, with the first few buttons open he looked even more manly than before.

“Um, I think we should take the necklace off if you don’t mind…”

Eyes shot down to his chest, where a tiny silver ring on a chain hung, barely glistening in the lights around.

“Yes, that’s alright” he said, although he never liked taking it off. There was always a worry in the back of his hand about misplacing it or something and the thought was simply unbearable, but he understood.

“That’s a very beautiful piece of jewelry”

“Thank you!” he looked down at the ring twirling it between his fingers. It was so simple, he wasn’t used to receiving compliments on it, even from the select few that got to see it. A simple golden band with a round diamond in the middle. It was so small for him, he could never get it more than halfway down his ring finger. “It belonged to somebody I cared a lot about.” He remembered how hard he worked to get your ring size, all those years ago. It was difficult to do it behind your back, since you had always been so good at reading his body language, you always knew when he was up to something. He remembered all those nights spent on the internet, looking for the perfect ring for you! He knew it needed to be simple but sometimes it was so hard to talk himself out of buying one of the big and glamorous ones. He just wanted to spoil you rotten and if he didn’t take the chance to do that when he was buying your engagement ring, then when would he? Finally, after weeks, he finally found this one and fell in love. It was perfect for you and you were gonna love it. The day it arrived was one of the most exciting times he experienced in the last decade, he could still feel his heart pumping now, at the memory.

“They can’t wear it anymore so I just keep it!” in fact, you had never even gotten the chance to try it on, but those details don’t need to be shared. Still, thinking about the incident, taking place only 2 weeks after he got the ring, hurts him to no end. He was planning the perfect engagement, a grand romantic gesture to make all your dreams come true but now he felt sorrow and regret, wishing he would have simply ran to your door the same day that package was delivered to ask you. At least then you would have known, you would have had the chance to say yes.

“I’m sure they were an incredible person” Adrien only nodded to that “Well, you’re all done, you can head to the set now”

“Thank you, I’ll just drop this off to Nathalie and go”

The pain of not having you around would never go away, Adian had accepted that as a fact! You would always be there for any anniversary or birthday, achievement or simply on lazy days when his mind would wonder. Nothing made the sting of not being able to hold your hand go away but at least the ring, your ring, would comfort him in those moments.

#miraculous ladybug #mlb fanfic #mlb x reader #mlb headcanons #adrien agreste #adrien agreste x reader #adrien agreste imagine #adrien agreste angst #adrien agreste headcanons #adrien agreste fluff #chat noir #chat noir imagine #chat noir x reader #chat noir angst #chat noir fluff

[krinsbez]

A Watership Down Meta/Headcanon/Rant

So, both @jaybutnotthebird and @stavarosthearcane have stated that, to their knowledge, I've not posted this on tumblr, and indicated that they would like to hear it, I'm posting it now!

So I don't recall if it was stated explicitly or was, like, a rumor, but everything about Gen. Woundwort makes so much more sense when you realize he's a hutch rabbit.

Why is he so enormous? Cuz he was bred to be big and fluffy, was fed flayrah everyday, and was taken to the vet if he got sick.

Why is he so afraid of humans? Because they were the first elil he ever encountered.

Why is everything he does in complete opposition to proper lapine culture and behavior? Because he grew up not knowing anything about it.

Efrafa is, in essence, an attempt to make a warren into a hutch.

OK got that? So, here's another thing to think about. Cowslip's Warren, or Strawberry's Warren, or the Warden of the Shining Wire, or whatever you want to call it...they also completely disregard traditional Lapine culture and behavior; they don't tell stories of El-ahrairah, they make weird poetry about the inevitability of death, they keep babbling about dignity, they make ART, etc. This, by the way, is why it and Efrafa come off as so viscerally wrong, because Mr. Adams went to the trouble of putting us in a rabbit headspace, so we can understand the full horror; it's not just Woundwort's tyranny or the farmer's snares, it's that they're unnatural and rabbits aren't meant to live that way.

Now, I know what you're thinking when I say that word, "unnatural", but put down the pitchfork.

Because Hazel and Co. do a LOT of things that is outside the realm of typical rabbit behavior:

Despite being Chief Rabbit, Hazel let's the others argue with and talk back to him.

They made friends with mice and a bird.

He adopted Cowslip's Warren's idea of using tree roots to create a big central chamber

Tales (the sequel short story collection) has them adopt a (obvs. less aggro) version of the Efrafan practice of having the Owsla run patrols

They busted out hutch rabbits.

They used a boat

Meanwhile, Sandleford, the Warren that our heroes fled, was apparently the epitome of a traditional Warren and of course they all died horribly.

So, what's the difference?

It goes back to the last lines of the first myth, part of which was used as the first animated film adaptation's tagline:

“All the world will be your enemy, Prince with a Thousand Enemies, and whenever they catch you, they will kill you. But first they must catch you, digger, listener, runner, prince with the swift warning. Be cunning and full of tricks and your people shall never be destroyed.”

(I bolded the important part)

Sandleford's Chief Rabbit (EDIT: The Threarah) decided he liked things as they were and refused to change, and his people died. Cowslip and Co. allow themselves to be farmed and treat death as an inevitability, and they're slowly going mad and dying one by one. Gen. Woundwort teaches his Owsla to respond to every situation by fighting, and they break and flee when the unexpected happens. The ordinary rabbits of Efrafa are forced to live like hutch rabbits and they're miserable and not having babies.

Hazel does weird stuff…but he does so because he's in a weird situation and has to adapt. He listens to the other's concerns and ideas, he keeps an open mind, he figures out what resources are available to him, and then figures out how he can use them to protect his people.

In short? Unlike Woundwort, Cowslip & Co., or the unnamed Chief Rabbit of Sandleford EDIT: The Threarah, he is cunning and full of tricks.

(I think one of the reasons the BBC miniseries from a few years back didn't hit right is that they failed to get this)

Anyways, thanks for coming to my TED Talk

#Watership Down #Random Thoughts #Headcanons

[gojonish]

cherries || ˢᵃᵉ ⁱᵗᵒˢʰⁱ

pairing: sae itoshi x fem!reader

content: slight angst, takes place before sae goes to spain, kinda rushed??, could be childhood friends to lovers if you really really squint

note: idk where this concept came from but i like the idea of sae liking cherries idk

sae itoshi.

a boy you’ve been best friends with since you were born. a boy who you developed feelings for in kindergarten. a boy who despite his cold exterior, stole your heart away, causing you to have a crush on him for years.

a boy who has a weird obsession with cherries.

the addiction was odd to you. he loved them so much to the point that you thought his hair was that color because he ate the fruit often.

whenever you two sat together at lunch, his tiffin of cherries would be the first thing he pulled out. not his water, not his sandwich, but his large container of just cherries.

you, on the other hand, couldn’t be more different. you hated the fruit. every cherry you got would end up being way too bitter for your liking. not only that, but the huge seed in the middle was so annoying, even causing you to choke on it once.

you were always more of a strawberry girl anyway.

as you were sitting at your normal lunch table with your cherry-loving best friend, you were shocked to see that he didn’t pull out his favorite fruit first.

“where’s your cherries?”

he shrugged, “didn’t feel like bringing them today.”

now this was surprising. sae not eating cherries for once in his life? you believed you could be president now.

“why?”

“because i’m not happy,” you noticed how he took an angry bite out of his sandwich, causing you to raise your eyebrows.

“what happened?”

“i’m leaving for spain.”

you blinked.

“what?”

“i leave in a week.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, staring at him. it was obvious he was avoiding eye contact with you, probably because he didn’t know what reaction you’d give him. he wasn’t sure if you were going to yell at him or sob at him.

it was both.

who was going to walk you back home from school? who was going to fight off all the mean bullies for you? who was going to eat the cherries your mom would always pack you?

you denied it, thinking he was just playing some sick prank to get back at you for dissing his cherries.

he did leave.

it felt surreal to you- your best friend of thirteen years leaving just like that. you wanted to tell him you liked him, you really did. however, the nerves got to you last second and you blanked. he ended up boarding the flight with no knowledge of your crush on him and constant regrets pooled in your mind.

and now he was gone.

suddenly you started to like cherries.

something about them made you start to eat them more. maybe it was the fact that they had oddly gotten sweeter, or because you finally grew up and decided to deal with the pits.

or maybe it’s because it’s the only way you can remind yourself of the boy who stole your heart, just because he kept eating those damn cherries.

#itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae x you #blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #angst

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

My memory is terrible so I wanted to do a breakdown of my stuff every once in a while. Might be monthly, might be whenever I feel like it.

QL - Currently Watching

🇹🇭1000 Years Old [10/12] - This is dragging and I am incredibly bored.

🇹🇭23.5 [4/12] - This show is incredibly cute and I'm smiling through the whole thing. Aylin is my favourite and I'm hoping against hope for the teachers to become a couple. Make it happen gmmtv!

🇹🇭Deep Night [6/8] - The long shots are killing me but the story is moving fast. There's a surprising amount of good communication and the throuple is almost inevitable a this point.

🇰🇷Jazz for Two [6/8] - This is the first bl show where I read the source material before the show and I wish I hadn't. The changes that were made just don't make sense to me, because I don't see how it serves the story. But putting that aside, the story feels rushed and the pacing is weird. The second couple doesn't read believable with this time frame. Anyway I might edit this post when I watch the last 2 episodes. [EDIT] Completed. Final thoughts here. 🇯🇵Love is Better The Second Time Around [4/6] - Why must you do this again Japan? 6 episodes for this one? I'm not happy about this. This show is so good. I love how the mains communicate, not to mention they are beautiful to watch.

🇯🇵My Strawberry Film[7/8] - I have no idea what this show is about nor it seems does it. Do I care at this point? Nope, not really. Let it be over.

🇹🇭To Be Continued [6/8] - This is getting into The Promise territory and I'm not amused. Another one that is dragging and I like the second couple but they barely have any screen time. I'll finish it because there are only two episodes left but I'll be sprinting to the finish line.

🇹🇼Unknown [7/12] - It hurts so good. The songs were killing me this episode. I really liked the separation, I think it was necessary for them. Yuan seems more mature and it will be interesting to see how it changes the relationship.

QL - Finished

🇹🇭Cherry Magic Th – What a wonderful surprise this was. Tay and New are beautiful together and their chemistry was on point. I really liked how the source material was used here.

🇯🇵Cherry Magic Anime – It was quite faithful to the manga with only a couple of deviations and of course it didn't cover everything but I really enjoyed watching yet another version of these characters.

🇹🇭Dead Friend Forever – It was quite a ride. I specially enjoyed the communal watching of this one and all the theories as more people tuned in. Didn't love the ending but it was better than I thought. Still not over White though. 🇯🇵Although I Love You, and You? - Started great, the middle was meh, and by the end I wasn't invested enough in the couple so even though it ended happy, it didn't make up for the rest of it. 🇯🇵Perfect Propose - Great all the way through. I loved this characters a lot and still think it's amazing how well the time was used here. 🇯🇵Ossan's Love Returns - It's Japan at it's finest. Love, food, chaos, found family and cherry blossoms. What more can I ask for? 🇯🇵She Loves to Cook, and She Loves to Eat - My heart grew.🖤

🇹🇼Anti Reset - This is one of the most frustrating shows I've watched in a while. This started off strange and most of the show doesn't seem to know what it wanted to say about the AI part of it. It drove crazy on a weekly basis. But I thought their chemistry was really good and they are just an adorable couple. These 4 VBL series [Stay By My Side, You Are Mine, Vip Only] were a mixed bag for me. I think Stay By My Side is my favourite overall.

🇨🇳The Spirealm - First of all, Ruan Lan Zhu is absolutely gorgeous and his outfits are always perfection. The visuals are really good. This was definitely not a cheap production. The sets for all the doors are incredible. Talking only about the game, I gotta say the second door was my favourite. The bromance toes the line, but I'm not surprised this was taken down. I think if they'd kiss it would be less obvious than some of their scenes. I'm not going to spoil the ending but if you're thinking about watching here's your warning. A bit after the halfway point it gets incredibly sad and the ending is just heart-breaking.

Dropped 🇹🇭A Secretly Love [3/10] 🇹🇭Kiseki Chapter 2 [2/6] Also haven't started Two Worlds because I'm waiting to know if I should bother. I'm experiencing a bit of Thai bl fatigue so we'll see.

Rose Watches OJBL

Takumi-kun 1: And The Spring Breeze Whispers (2007) - The editing is choppy as hell and it gets hard to understand the characters motivations. And the acting is not good. Yeah, not a fan of this one. Udagawachou de Matteteyo (2015) - This one is weird. I recently watched Life as a Girl so I admit that the comparison doesn't help this one at all. The idea is interesting but the execution is poor. There's a couple of scenes that are a bit hard to watch. In this particular story I think if we had a bit more insight to the characters motivations it would've helped me connect and feel more invested. In the end, for my particular goal it was fine I guess.

Other - Watched

🩷Tengu's Kitchen (2023) | Fudanshi Bartender no Tashinami (2022) Formula 17 (2004) | Mars: Zero no Kakumei (2024) | 🩷Joshi-teki Seikatsu (2018)

1 Year of Rose-Tinted Glasses

It's been a year of Rose this month. And it's been kinda great. It took me a while to get over my shyness here and I still feel intimidated but it's gotten better. The people in this space have been really kind to me and I appreciate it so much. Thank you so much for the space.

That's it for right now. As usual my ask box is open for gif requests and any other questions. Happy Easter to all who celebrate.

Have a good week💜

#rosy watchlist #playboyy the series #although i love you and you #cherry magic th #cherry magic anime #ossan's love #anti-reset #my strawberry film #perfect propose #1000 years old #to be continued #Unknown the series #multi bl #rose rambles #takumi kun series #Udagawachou de Matteteyo #tengu no daidokoro #mars zero no kakumei #jazz for two #Rose Watches OJBL

[sattlersquarry]

forget-me-not (steve harrington x gn!reader)

Summary: (Post Season 4) Steve Harrington broke your heart almost a year ago. You think it's only right to still hold a grudge, despite how good he seems.

Word Count: ~5.9k

Warnings: Language, alcohol, sex is mentioned and alluded to but not described, angst with a happy ending, this was originally inspired by Little Freak by Harry Styles but it got away from me and now it's a different beast entirely.

A/N: There are a lot of lovely fics out there where y/n gets stood up for a date and best friend Steve comforts them, but I'm evil, so in this one, Steve is the stander-upper 😈

April, 1986

Hawkins is in shambles.

The earthquake ravaged the town, and now ash spews out of large cracks in the ground every few days. The military attempts to contain the strange, almost reptilian animals in the forests, but there are too many to keep up with, and all citizens are encouraged to be in their homes by 6 p.m. 

You don’t fully understand how it went down, how the sweet, small town you grew up in became such a nightmare. 

You’ve been spending your time volunteering with the relief effort. In doing so, you’ve gotten closer to people you’ve tangentially known all your life but never gotten to know that well. You’re also forced to spend time with people you’d never wanted to see again. 

One such person is Steve Harrington: former playboy turned into…you aren’t really sure yet. Despite your grudge, he’s better. Kinder. Softer around the edges than he was during your school days. During the days he broke your heart.

Perhaps that’s melodramatic. You hooked up once last summer, and then he stood you up for an Enzo’s date. You aren’t even sure he remembers doing it, but as you stand side-by-side folding donated clothes, the memory sears through your brain.

Summer, 1985

You try to contain your excitement as you enter Enzo’s. You’ve been on plenty of dates to cheap diners and movies, but this is your first real, official, proper “adult” date.  

So what if you’re doing things out of order? Sure, you’ve already slept with Steve. The two of you both worked at Starcourt before it burned down, and you spent all of June flirting on your breaks. You’d visit him at Scoops Ahoy, he’d visit you at Waldenbooks. He’d walk you to your car the nights you both closed, promising to provide free ice cream for you tomorrow.

After a particularly hard day and long shift, you’re easily enticed when Steve asks if you want to come over. 

“For pizza,” he says. “And a movie.” 

So you eat pizza, and watch a movie, and then you kiss him a little, and then he kisses you a lot, and the next thing you know, the two of you are in his bed. 

It isn’t the awkward one-night stand you’re afraid it will be. On the contrary, Steve is genuine and sincere the morning after.

“I really like you,” he says. He brushes a hair out of your face as you lay side-by-side, curled up under the covers. “I want to take you out.”

“To dinner?”

“No, with a sniper,” he says with a snort. “Yes, to dinner!”

So you agree to go to Enzo’s the following Friday night. 

After the mall fire, Steve calls and asks to postpone a couple weeks.

“I’m just in a weird place right now,” he says. His voice is a little hoarse.

“Is everything okay?” you ask, concern etched in your tone. “Do you need anything?”

“No, no! I just—listen, can we meet up in two weeks instead?”

You assure him that’s fine, and you spend the next two weeks preparing for the date. Your friends help you pick an outfit. You decide what you’re going to order ahead of time. You even pick a perfume that’s strawberry scented, since you know that’s Steve’s favorite ice cream flavor. 

The day of the date, the Enzo’s host leads you to the table Steve reserved. You wait, and wait, and wait, and after thirty-five minutes, the waiter comes around for the fourth time to ask if you’re ready to order.

“My date’s running a little late,” you say. Panic nests in the back of your mind, but you push it down. “Can I have a few more minutes?”

“You must order something to keep the table,” the waiter says snidely.

“Oh, right, sorry,” you say, snatching up your menu. “Um, can I just have two of the house special?”

The waiter gives you a prim nod and retreats. 

You beeline to the slew of payphones, hands shaking as you dial Steve’s number. You get his voicemail. 

“Hey, Steve,” you say, trying to keep your voice upbeat. “It’s me. Y/N. Um, I’m at Enzo’s and I’m waiting for you. Our table’s in the back, near the potted plants? I hope you don’t mind, I ordered for you. The waiter was about to blow a gasket. Anyway, I’ll see you soon, okay?” 

You return to your table. And wait. And wait. And wait.

The waiter brings you two plates of chicken parmesan. You eat yours and wait. Then, you eat Steve’s, and you wait some more.  

90 minutes after your arrival at the restaurant, you head to the payphones again. You suck in a shuddery breath and try to keep from tearing up as your fingers fumble over Steve’s number. Voicemail, again. 

“Steve, me again. Are you still coming? The wait staff are starting to give me pitying looks. I really, really had a good time with you this summer and want to see where this goes…it’s fine if you don’t feel the same. But, please, come to the restaurant so we can talk. Or, just call the restaurant and they can get the phone to me. Um, okay. Bye.” 

A full two-and-a-half hours after your arrival at Enzo’s, you’re a wreck. You’ve ordered five desserts to try and keep your table, on the foolish hope that Steve will arrive. 

He doesn’t. 

Your waiter has softened somewhat when he brings you the check. 

“Whoever they are,” he says in a low voice, “they aren’t worth it.” 

Your face burns hot with embarrassment as you hand him your credit card.

After getting a to-go box for the strawberry cheesecake you ordered for Steve, you slink to the payphones once more. This time, you don’t stop the tears from falling, but you compose yourself enough to keep the final voicemail from devolving into a blubbery mess.

“Steve. I just wanted to let you know I’m leaving. I waited for you for almost three hours.” You sniffle and add, “If all you wanted from me was a one-night stand, why did you make me think otherwise? Jerk. Have a nice life, Harrington.”

You slam the phone against the cradle and stomp out of the restaurant, waiting until you get behind the wheel of your car to let out a heaving sob. 

April, 1986

“Earth to Y/N!”

Steve snaps his fingers in your face and you startle. 

“Sorry, what did you say?” you say, shaking yourself out of the memories that makes you hate the boy next to you. 

“I asked if you had any plans this weekend?”

You resist the urge to scoff. Fun plans, amidst the disaster? And he’s trying to make small talk with you? That further confirms your theory that he’s forgotten all about you, or that he’s such an arrogant blowhard he doesn’t even realize how much he hurt you.

“I might go to Enzo’s,” you say, trying to jog his memory. “It’s one of the only restaurants still open right now, and I hear the chicken parm is really good.” 

You glance at him, but his facial expression remains unchanged: a contented smile as he organizes the clothes he’s folding into boxes for summer and winter. 

“Hey, that sounds fun. Oh, you should get the strawberry cheesecake. It’s delicious.”

You scowl, having hit your limit of being nice to him. 

“You’re such an ass,” you scoff, shoving a bundle of folded sweatshirts into his arms and storming off.

“Huh? What? Whoa, whoa, Y/N! Wait up!” 

You weave through the volunteers, heading toward the doors for a much-needed respite. Steve, however, won’t leave you be.

“Hold on!” he says, catching up to you and stepping in front, blocking your escape. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you kidding?” You bark out a humorless laugh. “Wow, you’re more of an idiot than I thought.”

Hurt flashes across his face, brow furrowing.

“Excuse me?”

“You seriously don’t remember?” you say. “Last summer? Enzo’s?”

Steve scrunches his face up with confusion. He rubs his eyes.

“Wait, hold on,” he says. “When did we go to Enzo’s?”

“We were supposed to, at the end of July,” you say. You jab a finger in his chest and push just a tad too hard. “But you fucked me and then stood me up, and you never even called me back. Steve, I felt used and I was mortified. And you have the audacity to ask me about my plans and recommend the Enzo’s strawberry cheesecake, as if I didn’t eat three slices waiting for your sorry ass to show up!” 

You start to storm off, but Steve grabs a hold of your shoulder.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he begs. “Please don’t go. I just—I can’t remember—when did we make the Enzo’s plans?” 

“Who cares when? What matters is you didn’t show—”

“Y/N!” Steve says louder, catching the attention of some nearby volunteers. He blushes and drags you to a secluded corner behind some old gym mats. Eyes wide with panic and shame, he repeats, “When did we make the plans?” 

You wrench free of his grasp.

“We originally made the plans a few days before the Fourth,” you say, voice cold, “after we slept together. You asked to reschedule. And I never heard from you again.” 

About seven different emotions flick across Steve’s face. 

“Oh, shit. I think I know what—listen, last summer I started having these gaps in my memory, and I—”

“Save it,” you say tiredly. “I don’t need your excuses, Harrington. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Before he can say anything, you leave him alone with his thoughts and regrets.

🍓🍓🍓

Steve is starting to think the universe hates him. 

After his foray into the Russian bunker, he remembered about your date and that he needed to reschedule. He even called Enzo’s and changed the reservation. But the weeks following the drugging and the beating, he started to forget more and more things. 

He missed a dentist appointment. He forgot what day his parents were coming back into town, so he set the dinner table for the whole family six nights in a row until they actually returned. He unintentionally skipped a job interview at Bradley’s Big Buy with Robin. 

That night you waited for him at Enzo’s, he could tell he’d forgotten something. He assumed it was giving Dustin a ride.

“What are you doing here?” Dustin had asked when Steve parked his BMW outside the Henderson house. 

“Don’t you need a ride somewhere?” Steve had said with a frown.

Dustin, not one to turn down a free carpool, had Steve take him to the arcade.

Steve wasn’t home when you called from the restaurant. When he did return home, his mother had already deleted your voicemails, assuming they were all telemarketers.

Steve never got your messages, but he didn’t forget about you. He saw you in town a few weeks later and tried to go talk to you, but when you saw him coming, you glared and darted in the other direction. 

He tried not to be too hurt by that. His foggy memory made him wonder if he misread any signals. Maybe you had just been looking for a one-night fling. Maybe the sex hadn’t been good for you. Maybe you had moved on and found a new guy while Steve recovered from the Battle of Starcourt. He didn’t hold it against you if you had. 

Now, eight months later, Steve realizes he’s been wrong this whole time. 

“I messed up and Y/N hates me!” Steve groans, ferociously spreading peanut butter on bread. Robin works on the jelly sides as they prepare meals for the hungry of Hawkins. 

“It’s not your fault that you forgot the date!” Robin says. She drops her voice to a whisper and adds, “We were tortured. You were concussed.”

“But I didn’t even call,” Steve says. He slaps two slices of bread together harshly, angry at himself. “After I saw them looking so upset in town, I should’ve called to check in. To clear the air. If I had, maybe I would’ve realized what happened and could’ve fixed it.”

“You can think about ‘what ifs’ all day,” Robin says. “Or you can try to make things right.”

“I can’t,” Steve says. “They won’t even look at me anymore. I don’t blame them.” 

“I don’t get why they’d hold such a grudge,” Robin wonders, neatly packing their newest sandwich into a brown paper bag. “I mean, you missed one date. It’s not like you slept with them and ditched them. Unless…”

Robin narrows her eyes at Steve. Ashamed, he doesn’t look up from sandwich making. 

Robin scowls and smacks his shoulder.

“Ouch! Robin!”

“You are the horniest dingus this side of the Mississippi,” Robin says. “Of course they’re so angry! They think you used them for sex! Technically you did, since you never followed up.”

“What happened to the ‘it’s not my fault’ shit!”

“It’s not! But the unfortunate truth is that you look like a total ass. You need to apologize.”

Steve does. He’s fully vulnerable and partially honest, and spins a tale about how a new medication with unfun side effects, such as brain fog, is why he completely forgot the date. 

“I’m really sorry, Y/N,” Steve says, after he’s finished. He’s tempted to ask if you’d be willing to try again, but he resists. 

You study him, eyes scanning his face for any indication he’s bullshitting you. You don’t look angry, but you don’t look very forgiving either.

“It’s fine,” you say, after what feels like a millennia. Steve relaxes when you give him a small smile. “Let’s just move on. Hand me those sweatshirts?” 

And so you two continue to work together, nothing more than acquaintances at best. 

August, 1986

Steve almost dies in the final fight with Vecna. 

The battle causes more earthquakes that leave many in town dead or wounded. Eleven is finally able to kill Vecna and destroy the Upside Down once and for all—but not before Steve is severely wounded by Vecna’s army of demodogs. 

He doesn’t remember much after the attack. He thinks he remembers Robin and Dustin crying. Someone—Hopper? Jonathan, maybe?—carrying him out of the Upside Down. The paramedics asking him his name, the year, the president, to count backwards from 10. 

Then, it’s all a bit fuzzy, until he wakes up a few days later. He’s got a lot more scars than he did, but he’s alive and Vecna is gone, so that’s something. 

He doesn’t expect to see you in his hospital room when he comes to. 

“Y/N?” he croaks.

You whip around, eyes wide as if you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t. Except you aren’t doing anything wrong—you’re adding a stuffed bear to the collection of Get Well Soon gifts on the windowsill.

“Oh, shit,” you say. “Let me get your doctors.�� 

When you disappear into the hall, he gets a better look at the teddy bear you’ve brought. It’s pink, with a strawberry-shaped nose. The mylar balloon tied to its paw says: Get Well Bear-y Soon! Steve’s heart swells at the realization that you remember his favorite flavor, that you went to the trouble to buy him a gift. He’s not sure he deserves it. 

He assumes you’ll come back in, but instead, a swarm of doctors and nurses encroach. Then, it’s Dustin and Robin and Nancy and Jonathan visiting him. Then, Hopper and Joyce and the other kids. 

By the end of the day, he’s exhausted from visitors, but he still wants to see you once more. 

He does, three days later.

He returns to his hospital room after physical therapy—the demodogs did a number on his shoulder. You’re there again, adding a Feel Better card to his stash. You startle when he walks in. 

“Hi!” you say, a bit louder than intended. You clear your throat. “Sorry. I don’t want to disturb you, I’ll just go—”

“You’re not disturbing me,” Steve says. “I could actually really use the company.” 

That’s a lie. Robin’s been in his room so much the nurses think she’s his sister. But you don’t have to know that. 

You relax and nod. 

“Sure, yeah, I can stay for a few minutes.”

Steve sinks onto his hospital bed and you sit in an uncomfortable-looking, plasticky armchair. 

Silence stretches between you two. It’s not tense, but it’s charged with something. 

The two of you start speaking at the same time.

“Sorry,” you say. “I just—I hope it’s not weird that I’m here.” 

“What? No, not weird at all,” Steve says. “We’re friends.”

And that’s true. The past four months, the two of you have become much closer. Still fully platonic, but on the cusp of something more. 

“Robin told me that you got hurt in the big quake,” you say, clueless to the true nature of the disasters. “She said—um, she said you almost didn’t—almost didn’t make it. And that made me feel horrible, because I really like you…r friendship. And I couldn’t imagine losing that. So I’m glad you’re going to be okay.”

You hesitate before covering his hand with yours. His hands are calloused and warm. Yours are icy cold. Steve represses a shiver at your touch.

“Thank you for coming,” Steve says. You squeeze his hand and his breath stutters. He recovers just enough to say, “And thank you for the bear. He rocks.”

“You like him?” you say, glancing over at the fluffy teddy on the windowsill. “You should name him Enzo. In honor of the strawberry cheesecake.” 

“I was actually thinking of naming him Beartholomew,” Steve says. “Beary, for short.” 

“That’s perfect. Or Beart, like Bart?” 

He chuckles. The sound of it triggers an incomparable feeling in your chest. 

“I like that. Beart Harrington.” 

The two of you smile at each other. It feels warm and easy, same as your flirtationship the summer prior. 

Your eyes flick to his lips. Is it weird to ask someone on a date in a hospital? you think.  

Before you can turn on the charm and see if Steve wants to join you for a cup of Jell-O in the cafeteria, the door swings open and his friends Dustin, Robin, and Erica rush in. 

You drop his hand on instinct. Steve misses the feeling of your touch. 

“Steve, Max is about to be discharged and she asked—oh, hey Y/N!” Robin says. “Sorry, are we interrupting—”

“I was just leaving,” you say, standing. “I have to head to the soup kitchen. Then I’m back to the high school for more donation work. But I’ll see you around, okay?” 

Steve wants to ask you to skip your shifts and stay. But the request dies on his throat. Instead, he just nods and says, “See you around.” 

You give a polite nod and smile to his friends before leaving. 

“Is that them?” Erica asks once you’re out of earshot. “The one you’re totally crushing on, like a weirdo stalker?”

“He’s not a stalker!” Dustin says. “He’s pursuing his Suzie.” 

Steve rolls his eyes.

“They’re not my Suzie,” Steve says, “as much as I want them to be. That ship sailed, ages ago.” 

October, 1986

When things in Hawkins are a little better, you’re able to start your second year at Roane County Community College. 

Steve and Robin enroll as well, and share an apartment off-campus. For Halloween, they invite you and half the student body to a rager.

You don’t want to go at first. Mainly because you’re afraid alcohol will spur you to do something stupid, like tell Steve that you want him.

You’re not sure why you do. You gave him the benefit of the doubt but still don’t fully believe his story about why he missed your date, and wonder if his recent kindness and friendship is a trap to lure you in and break your heart once more. 

But that seems too cruel for him. He’s not like that, you’ve learned in your six months of new friendship. 

Plus, he almost died over the summer, and while that kind of thing would’ve made you bitter and angry and terrified of the world, Steve doesn’t let it weigh him down. He’s still kind and empathetic, still loyal and bright. 

Fuck, you want him so bad. As a friend? No: as a boyfriend, as a lover, as everything all the time. 

You stand in the corner of his and Robin’s living room, nursing a hard lemonade and avoiding eye contact with the object of your affection (currently dressed as Marty McFly). 

Marty McSteve dances his way over during “Monster Mash.” You laugh at his chaotic display, trying to mentally murder the butterflies in your stomach.

“Hey!” Steve says. He adjusts his orange vest. “Wanna dance?” 

Friends dance with friends…right?

“I’d love to,” you say with a smile.

The two of you drink, dance, and drink some more. At some point, you and Robin do shots. After that, you stop resisting the urge to throw yourself at Steve. You boldly go up to him and ask, “Hey, you never showed me your new room. Give me a tour?”

The excuse is shoddy but works its magic. Two minutes later, you’re making out with Steve in his room, pulsing beat of the music reverberating through the thin apartment walls. 

His kisses are hot and heady, his hands wander your frame and make your skin burn. 

“I’ve wanted to do this again,” Steve murmurs between kisses. “For so long.”  

“Me too,” you say, breathless, pulling him even closer to you. The two of you drunkenly stumble around until he pushes you onto his bed.

He kisses your neck, and it feels so amazing, you want to live in this moment forever. But then you glance around his room and see Beart Harrington on his dresser shelf, and you’re taken back to that night at Enzo’s, eating strawberry cheesecake and waiting alone.

You don’t think he would do that again. But the tiny part of you that’s unsure panics.

“Steve,” you stutter out. 

Unaware of your inner turmoil, he moans your name and continues kissing your neck. One hand grips your waist, the other roams higher up your thigh. 

“Steve. Stop.”

At that, he immediately pulls away and off you, concern clouding his features. 

“Is everything okay?” he asks. His voice is so tender, you melt a bit. 

You’re not sober enough to properly articulate your feelings. To tell him that you like him so much and getting heartbroken by him again would destroy you.

So you simply sit up and say: “I can’t. I’m sorry.” 

“That’s totally fine,” he says. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” You don’t respond, just stare at your lap. Steve adds, “Do you need anything? Water, or something to eat?” 

You flounder, stammering something about how you don’t feel well and want to go home.

Steve nods. If he’s disappointed or upset, he doesn’t show it. “I can walk you home if—”

“It’s fine,” you interrupt. “I’m sorry, again.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Steve says gently. “Seriously, it’s all good.” 

You mumble out a goodbye and practically sprint away, leaving Steve alone on his bed. 

“I don’t understand,” he says as he and Robin clean up beer cups after the party has ended. “They ran away so fast. Did I do something wrong?”

“People are allowed to change their minds about sex, you know,” Robin says. She tosses an empty cup at Steve. He fumbles and catches it. 

“I know! And that’s okay. But if I made them upset, I want to know why. Rob, I like them so much. I don’t know if I can just be their friend anymore. I want more. And sometimes it seems like they do too, but right before we cross that line, they push me away.”

“This is a conversation you need to have with them, not me,” Robin says. She pulls a pillow off the ground and groans. “Great. Molly puked on the carpet. Hand me a sponge.”

🍓🍓🍓

Steve calls you the next day to check on you. 

“I’m okay,” you say, fingers twisting in the phone cord. “Just tired.”

That’s not necessarily a lie. But you’re speaking in mistruths by not openly telling Steve how you feel. How you want him but are so terrified of what will happen. What is this effect he has on you? 

“That’s good,” Steve says. You can tell he’s nervous by the way his voice cracks. You can practically see him run a hand through his hair over the phone—an anxious habit he can’t seem to break. “Listen, I’m really sorry if I made you upset yesterday when we were about to…you know. I didn’t mean to cross any boundaries or make you uncomfortable.” 

“You didn’t,” you rush to reassure him. “It’s not you…”

You cut yourself off before adding the dreaded it’s me. Instead, you say, “I wanted to do it, but I just panicked.” You suck in a breath. “The truth is, I really, really like you Steve. A lot. Like, I like you way more than a friend should.”

Steve stops breathing for a moment. 

“You do?” he asks. 

“Yeah. And that terrifies me.” 

“What?” Steve says, holding the phone closer to his ear. “I terrify you?”

You laugh, despite the tension you’re feeling. 

“No,” you say. “You’re a gem, Steve Harrington. But the thought of getting heartbroken by you again…that’s what scares me.” You drop your voice to a near whisper. “I think it would ruin me.” 

Steve gulps. You had been forgiving about the Enzo’s thing when he cleared the air, and the two of you have become such good friends since then. Guilt gnaws at his insides when he realizes how much being stood up affected you.

“I’m so, so sorry Y/N,” he says, after a beat. “I didn’t realize—I mean, I knew what I did hurt you, but I didn’t know—”

“It’s fine, just forget about it—”

“No!” Steve says urgently. “Please. I like you too. I want to make it up to you. To take you out on a real date.” 

You pause, chewing your lip and pondering the idea.

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” you say cautiously.  

“Please. Just trust me.” 

Trust. You trusted Steve last summer, and look where that got you. 

But you don’t want to be afraid of falling in love with him. Not anymore. So you agree to go on a date with him, hoping for the best.  

🍓🍓🍓

Steve doesn’t give you any indication what the date will be. He just tells you to be ready at 7 p.m. sharp.

As the clock ticks closer to 7, you feel your anxiety spike. You’ve convinced yourself he’s not coming, that you’re being stood up again, until—

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You stand from the couch so fast you make yourself dizzy. 

When you open the front door, Steve is waiting. However, he’s not alone. 

“Oh!” you say, recognizing Steve’s friend Dustin from some volunteering shifts. “Uh, hey, guys. What—”

“Good morrow!” Dustin booms in a theatrical voice. Steve sighs and shakes his head. 

“Henderson,” Steve hisses. “I told you: no Shakespeare shit!”

He turns to you and beams.

“Hey, you look great!” he says. Steve holds up a bouquet of forget-me-nots, your favorite flower. The irony is not lost on you. “This is for you.”

“Oh, thank you,” you say, taking it. “You do too. Uh, and Dustin! Nice hat.”

The hat in question is some sort of computer joke, with lots of 1s and 0s. You don’t understand it. But Dustin preens at your praise. 

“Thanks, Y/N!” he says. “Now, are you ready for the date of your life?”

“I’m supposed to be the one to say that,” Steve says. “Henderson, just go wait in the car. In the back seat! BACK. SEAT.”

Dustin clambers into the back of Steve’s BMW.

“Steve,” you say, “did you invite me on a babysitting date?”

“I promise I didn’t,” Steve says. “But I did ask my friends for some assistance. You’ll see. Now, what did Henderson say—are you ready for the date of your life?”

He holds out a hand. You hesitate, but take it and smile. 

“I think I am. Rock my world, Steve Harrington.” 

He drives you (and Dustin) across town to the nature reserve. Dustin exits the car before Steve’s even fully parked, sprinting ahead into the forest. 

“Are we supposed to follow him?” you ask.

“He’s going ahead to set some things up. We’ll follow, just much slower.” 

Steve holds out an arm. You link yours in his, a bit flustered at the closeness. 

“Sorry if this is weird,” Steve says as the two of you leisurely walk on the reserve’s wooded trails. “I know it’s not your typical dinner date, but we tried that, and I fucked it up.” 

“It’s really fine, Steve,” you say. “You were on that medication that made you forget.” 

Steve bristles at the reminder of his shitty lie. He wishes he could tell you what really happened. Maybe one day. 

“It’s not fine,” Steve says quietly. “I hurt you, and that’s the last thing I want to do. So I hope this will make it up to you.”

You make it to a clearing and you gasp. A picnic table has been decorated with flower petals. Twinkly lights are strung on the tree branches and bushes, and around the nearby park ranger station.

Local rock band Corroded Coffin stands at the edge of the clearing, tuning their instruments. Robin, the new lead singer after Eddie’s passing, notices the two of you enter. 

“The lovers are here!” Robin says. “Let’s go, boys! 1, 2, and a 1, 2, 3, 4!” 

You’re expecting a heavy metal song, and are pleasantly surprised as they start to perform “Crimson and Clover.” 

“Do you like it?” Steve asks. He’s wringing his hands together and looking at you expectantly as you survey the picnic.

“It’s amazing,” you say, eyes shining. 

Dustin appears from the ranger’s station with his friend Lucas. They’re in matching bow ties. 

“Welcome to Chez Hawkins,” Lucas says. “Table for two?” 

The boys lead you and Steve to the picnic table. Dustin hands you two hand drawn menus while Lucas pours red wine into two plastic red cups. 

“These are lovely,” you say, fingers lightly tracing over doodles on your menu. “Did you guys draw them?”

“Will Byers did,” Steve says. “He’s, like, an amazing artist.” 

“May I recommend the house special: grilled cheese?” Dustin says. 

“Mainly because that’s the only thing we know how to make,” Lucas adds sheepishly. 

You and Steve “order” grilled cheese sandwiches and the boys disappear back into the ranger station. You can faintly hear them arguing with a third person about how much cheese is too much. 

“This is really thoughtful,” you say, gesturing to the decorations and the live band and the wine. “You didn’t have to do all this for me.”

“I wanted to,” Steve says with a shrug. “I want to show how much you mean to me.” 

Your insides turn to jelly. No one has ever shown you this much care or attention before. And to think, you wasted two-thirds of a year hating Steve Harrington when you could’ve been having these kinds of lovely date nights all the time?

You push away your regrets about your grudge to enjoy the date. The grilled cheeses Lucas delivers are delicious and pair surprisingly well with the wine. You and Steve talk about everything and nothing, and you thoroughly enjoy the music and the company. Corroded Coffin plays all love songs for you two, except for one or two Metallica hits. 

When it’s time for dessert, Lucas and Dustin return with their friend Max Mayfield. She parks her wheelchair next to the picnic table and plops a tupperware onto the table between you and Steve.

“Sorry for the lame presentation,” she says. “I hope you like them.” 

Dustin pulls off the tupperware lid and waves “ta-da” jazz hands, revealing four red cupcakes. Each is adorned with pink frosting and heart-shaped sprinkles. 

“Red velvet cupcakes with strawberry frosting!” he says. “A combination of your favorites.” 

You stare at the cupcakes, jaw dropped. Steve panics when you don’t say anything. He clears his throat.

“Sorry,” he says. “I thought you said once that you liked red velvet, because your grandma always made it for you. You don’t have to eat it! I think I have half a granola bar in my car if—”

“I told you that last summer,” you interrupt. 

“Huh?”

“The thing about red velvet cake,” you say. “I told you that last summer. Hell, that was one of the first things we talked about, because I asked if Scoops had a red velvet flavor. And you remembered that? One passing comment from last June?” 

Steve swallows hard, nervous under your relentless gaze, and nods.

“Uh, yeah? Is that insanely creepy of me?”

“Kids,” you say, not breaking your gaze from Steve’s adorably flushed face. “Close your eyes.”

Dustin, Lucas, and Max voice their confusion, until you lean across the picnic table, pull Steve up by the collar of his windbreaker, and kiss him fiercely. When the kiss registers, Steve wraps an arm around your waist. 

The two of you look ridiculous, each half-sitting, half-standing on your sides of the table. Max snatches the tupperware onto her lap just as you pull a little too hard and Steve falls onto the tabletop. He winces and rubs his elbow, and you apologize profusely—but can’t stop smiling. 

“Disgusting,” Lucas says, shaking his head. “You two couldn’t even wait until we were gone.”

“Eat these before you make out,” Max says. “They took all day.” 

The trio of teens mumble about “gross adults” before retreating to the ranger station. You join Steve on his side of the table, not wanting to be even two feet apart. 

“This is the perfect dessert,” you say, “and this is a perfect date. Thank you, Steve.” 

“Of course,” Steve says. “I hope it makes up for last year. I still feel so bad about it—”

You place a hand on top of Steve’s. 

“You don’t have to be sorry anymore,” you say softly. “It’s all right, Steve. I fully and wholly forgive you. The past is the past.”

“You’re not just saying that because I gave you wine and cupcakes?”

“Nope. But I like wine and cupcakes, so you should do that again sometime.” 

“I think I can swing that.”

He takes a bite of his second cupcake just as you whisper something about a different kind of dessert you want to give him, if he wants to take you home. He almost chokes on sprinkles, face as pink as the strawberry frosting, before he grabs your hand and pulls you down the trail. You giggle as he calls over his shoulder, “Robin! Stay with Vickie tonight!” 

“Harrington! You paid us to play!” Gareth, the drummer, shouts after you two. “Not clean up!” 

“Oh, let them go,” Robin says. “They’re in love! Besides, we’ll make Dustin clean.” 

You and Steve spend a perfect night together. As promised, he rocks your world. 

🍓🍓🍓

Your boyfriend Steve is forgetful.

He misses doctor’s appointments. He forgets to pick you up from work sometimes. He gets schedules mixed up, and, yes, sometimes he forgets date night.

But you’re a patient person, now that you know he doesn’t do it intentionally. You love him with your whole heart, and you know he feels the same. And you couldn’t ask for anything more. 

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington #st fic: forget