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#getting back together
bloody-bee-tea · 14 hours
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IntiMarch 2024 Day 28 - Let everyone know
The prompt for this was "Call me when you get home"
Suguru feels like shit because of what he has to do soon, but there’s no going back now. His mind is made up and he won’t change his stance on this.
Still, his heart hurts in his chest as he enters the hotel room he’ll meet Satoru in, because with this, he’ll also most likely end the best thing that ever happened to him. Well, almost the best thing, because there’s still the reason why he’s ending this.
He’s not smiling like he normally would be when he enters the room and even though Satoru excitedly bounds up to him to greet him, Suguru can tell that he instantly knows that something is going on.
“Hi,” he still says first, greeting Suguru with a soft kiss and Suguru would love to lose himself in that, would love to just shut his brain off and accept this for what it is, but he can’t.
He loves Satoru too much to do that.
“Hi,” he still gives back and pulls Satoru close, revels in that touch for as long as he can, before he slightly pushes Satoru away.
“I thought we couldn’t meet at your place today, because Shoko could drop by but something is up, isn’t it?” Satoru asks, no accusation in his voice and he threads their fingers together.
“Satoru, we have to talk,” Suguru gives back and just like that it’s out there.
Suguru knows that Satoru understands the implications of such a sentence.
“Oh, wow, ouch,” Satoru mutters, but still pulls Suguru over to the bed by his hand.
He gets them situated on it, Suguru stretched out on it and Satoru curled into his side, his head on Suguru’s chest and Suguru’s arm around his shoulder and Suguru allows it.
It’ll be the last time he gets to do this, so he’ll allow it.
“Okay, hit me with it,” Satoru mutters after a quiet minute they both take to enjoy this and Suguru sighs.
“Satoru, I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
“Do what? Us?” Satoru asks for clarification and Suguru buries his face in Satoru’s hair.
“This situation,” he gives back. “This sneaking around, I just—I don’t know how to keep you secret. I don’t want to anymore, Satoru.”
“I don’t understand, it was fine,” Satoru says and cranes his head to look up at Suguru. “Don’t you love me anymore?”
“I love you too much, that’s the whole problem,” Suguru sighs out. “You have made me so happy, happier than I’ve ever been in my life and people are starting to notice. They ask me what’s changed, why I’m so happy and relaxed lately and I can’t talk about it, because talking about how I’m in love with the most wonderful man on the earth is not something I can do. Because you asked to keep us a secret.”
“And you were fine with it,” Satoru shoots back and he’s not wrong.
Suguru readily agreed when Satoru told him that if they did this they’d have to do it in secret; it had been a no-brainer for Suguru because he’d rather have Satoru in secret than not at all, but things change.
They changed for him.
“I was,” Suguru agrees. “But I love you so much; I always want to talk about you. When I smile stupidly down at my phone because you sent me a meme and someone asks what’s so funny, I have to lie about what makes me happy. When people ask me why I can’t meet up at the weekend, why I never have time for them anymore, I can’t tell them that I’m meeting the love of my life. And it’s killing me, Satoru. I don’t want to keep you a secret. I understand why I have to, but I don’t want to. And it’s not going to work out like this.”
The things is—Suguru does understand. He understands the pressure of family, of expectations that can never be met, of disappointment being thrown his way in spades. But for him it was just his parents in a relatively small village. No one cared once he moved out and with the distance even his parents came around.
Things are different for Satoru; he’s from a very prominent, influential Clan and he’s been in the spotlight since he could walk. If this gets out, it will have more of an impact, more ramifications than Suguru can probably imagine and so he readily agreed when Satoru asked to keep it secret.
And from what Suguru has heard about Satoru’s parents—and what he has seen on TV—he wouldn’t put it past them to punish him in whatever way, too, so of course telling them is out of the question.
He would never endanger Satoru like that.
But that only leaves him with one other option.
“Are you giving me an ultimatum?” Satoru wants to know, mindlessly dragging his finger in non-sense patterns over Suguru’s chest.
“No. I wouldn’t force you to do that. I’m just—ending things.”
It almost chokes him up, saying it like that, but he has to. He has to do this, for the both of them. Their relationship is not going to work out if they keep going like this and right now things are still good.
Right now he can leave Satoru, knowing that he’s the best thing that ever happened to him, instead of bitter and angry, like he’d surely turn in the future.
“So you don’t even give me a chance to fix it?” Satoru asks and Suguru sighs.
“The chance is there, Satoru,” he mutters. “But I’m not forcing you to choose. If you think you can tell your parents—fine. You know where I am. But I’m not—that’s not the condition, okay? I’m ending things, today, no matter what you say or what you promise. It’s over. And what happens after—we’ll see.”
“That’s—kind of cruel,” Satoru huffs out, his voice suspiciously wet and just hearing it is enough to bring tears to Suguru’s eyes as well.
“I know. I know, Satoru. If it helps at all, I’m breaking my own heart as well.”
“Only makes it more stupid,” Satoru mutters, but he presses himself closer, burrows as much into Suguru as he can and Suguru knows that he understands.
He might not like it, but Satoru understands as well.
“I’m sorry,” Suguru says, pulling Satoru up until he can pepper his face with kisses. “I love you. I’m sorry.”
“I’m going to hate you for this, a little bit, for a while,” Satoru warns him and Suguru nods even though he knows it’s a lie.
Satoru can no more hate him than he could hate Satoru and maybe, if they could, things would be easier between them.
This, at least, would be.
“Do you—plan to stay the night?” Satoru asks after a moment and he sounds so hopeful that Suguru hates himself for having to crush that.
“No. I’ll leave soon.”
“I see,” Satoru whispers and Suguru kisses the escaping tear away before it can make its way down Satoru’s face. “I wish I’d never met you.” His voice is barely audible in the space between them and this too Suguru knows for the lie it is.
Satoru made him the happiest man on earth; the same is true for Satoru, Suguru knows it. And if he can’t bring himself to regret the time they spent together, then he doubts Satoru can either.
And still, he partially agrees.
“It would make things easier,” he gives back and gently extracts himself from Satoru. “It would spare us this.”
Before he can get off the bed, Satoru’s hand snatches his.
“Was it worth it? Even when it ends like this? Was it, Suguru?”
“Of course it was, stupid,” Suguru softly says and leans down to press a kiss to Satoru’s forehead. “Knowing you, loving you—it will always be worth it and I wouldn’t change it, even if I could.”
“Alright.” Satoru nods, though he doesn’t seem much happier with that answer. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. Goodbye, Satoru.”
Suguru leaves him there, on the bed, without a look back. He knows that if he were to look back, he’d stay, and he’d doom them both and so he keeps his head facing forwards and he simply walks away from his one and only.
It’s the worst kind of pain he ever experienced.
~*~*~
Suguru doesn’t hear from Satoru, because of course he doesn’t. They broke up; there would be no reason for Satoru to write him anymore. It’s still jarring, to adjust to a life that isn’t filled with Satoru and forcing himself to not look at his phone every five seconds out of habit is proving to be hard, so he mostly keeps it at home these days.
He still can’t bring himself to delete or block Satoru’s number.
Suguru arrives at home tired and weary after work, after a myriad of questions from his co-workers who all noticed that something is wrong with him and he wants to do nothing more than flop down on the couch and let his thoughts be drowned out by whatever stupid nonsense is on the TV, but he does go to find his phone first. He needs to at least check it every now and then.
When he picks it up, the helpful little bubble tells him that he has more messages than he reasonably knows what to do with, and for a split second Suguru wonders if someone died, when his eyes fall on a too-familiar name.
‘Call me when you get home’ is all Satoru wrote to him, after two weeks of absolute radio silence and Suguru has pressed the call button before he can consciously decide to do so.
“There you are, thank fuck,” Satoru breathes out after the first ring and Suguru is too confused to say anything. “Have you turned on your TV yet?” Satoru asks him, sounding slightly out of breath and Suguru frowns.
“No. Should I?”
“Hell no,” Satoru immediately says with a laugh and Suguru barely understands him over the background noise.
“Are you outside? What’s going on?”
“Listen, do not open the door for anyone expect me. Don’t answer your phone if it’s not me calling and please don’t look at any messages yet. I’ll be there in ten minutes and I’ll explain in person.”
“You’re starting to freak me out,” Suguru mutters. “But fine,” he eventually agrees, because he’ll always agree when Satoru asks him for something.
“Thank you,” Satoru says, sounding more out of breath than a minute ago.
“Are you running here?” Suguru asks with a frown and his only answer is Satoru’s panting breath. “Fine. I’ll read all of my messages if you’re not here in fifteen,” he then says, because he’s just as much of an asshole as Satoru can be and before Satoru can say something to that Suguru hangs up.
He’s tempted to do just what Satoru begged him not to, of course, but he stuffs his hands into his pockets and takes to pacing his living-room.
Suguru can’t remember the last time he didn’t see Satoru for two whole weeks but his mind comes up empty. Ever since they’ve met—even before they got together—they have met almost daily. He thinks three days was the longest they ever went without seeing each other and he almost feels sick with nerves.
He can’t help but to wonder what Satoru doesn’t want him to see yet, what he wants to explain in person and of course, he can’t stop himself from hoping.
Suguru made his stance clear. If Satoru is on his way here, surely it must mean—
His thoughts are interrupted by rapid knocking on his door and a quick look at the watch tells Suguru that seven minutes have passed. He eagerly makes his way over to the door but Satoru told him not to open it for anyone but him and while Suguru is certain that Satoru could have made it here in seven, he cannot be completely sure.
“Satoru?” he carefully asks, voice just loud enough to be heard through the door and he lets out a relieved breath when a muffled “Yes, now open up, I need to collapse somewhere that’s not out here.”
“Don’t make me laugh, you’re more of an athlete than I am, there’s no way you’re about to collapse,” Suguru says as he opens the door and he immediately finds himself with an armful of Satoru. “Hey, hey, careful,” Suguru mutters, scrambling to steady them lest they fall flat on their asses but Satoru is not any help at all with the way he’s clinging to Suguru.
“I have missed you,” Satoru breathes out and before Suguru can make him pull away, he moves away on his own. “Sorry, sorry, inappropriate, I know,” Satoru rushes out, raising his hands in defense and finally closing the door.
Right in the face of a panting reporter it seems, and Suguru turns towards Satoru with a frown.
“Explain,” he demands because for all that he’s elated to see Satoru, he can’t allow himself to feel that too deeply if he doesn’t know what’s going on.
Satoru could still leave any moment now and Suguru would have to mend a broken heart again.
“Right, okay, so,” Satoru starts, and just like Suguru a few moments ago, he starts to pace the living-room, accompanied by the ringing of the doorbell.
Suguru does not go over to check what the reporter wants because whatever is happening, he’d rather hear it from Satoru first.
“Satoru,” Suguru prompts when it takes too long for Satoru to start talking and Satoru turns around to him, a look of helpless despair on his face.
“I fucked up,” he says and wrings his hands in front of his chest. “Well, actually, I tried to make things better, by telling my family about you and somehow they misunderstood?”
Suguru’s heart almost beats out of his chest when he hears that Satoru told his family about them, but he’s still not sure what’s going on, so he forces the bubbling happiness down.
“They misunderstood what?”
“Apparently, me telling them about you equates to us being an established item.”
“Okay,” Suguru agrees, because so far he can’t see what’s there to misunderstand. If Satoru did tell his family, then for all that Suguru cares they are in a committed relationship.
“And we’re set to marry in spring,” Satoru rushes out and Suguru blinks.
“Come again?”
“Fuck, I knew you’d hate it, goddamit,” Satoru mutters and pushes a hand into his hair, tearing on his strands.
“Satoru, calm down and tell me what that means,” Suguru forces himself to say and Satoru deflates where he stands.
“I told them everything; how we’ve been sneaking around for a while, how you complete me in a way I didn’t think was possible, how I can’t live without you. And somehow that led to them hearing we’re engaged and they set the wedding for spring.”
“You—can’t live without me?” Suguru breathes out and in two big steps he’s right in front of Satoru. “You told your family?”
“Suguru, are you not listening, they think we’re getting married!”
“Yeah. So lets.”
“Lets what?”
“Get married,” Suguru simply says because this hardly seems like the worst thing in the world to him.
“You broke up with me two weeks ago!”
“I broke up with you because I love you more than my own life, Satoru. I—” Suguru bites his lip before he decides to fuck it. “My plan was to ask you to marry me if you should tell your family about us. That has always been my plan, Satoru, so I really don’t care.”
“You—want to marry me?”
“Satoru, are you not listening to me? You’re my one and only, who else am I going to marry if not you?”
“You don’t understand what that means, Suguru,” Satoru says, desperation colouring his voice. “That reporter out there? One of many. It’s already all over the news, your face, who you are; I bet your phone is blowing up with notifications from your family and friends, demanding to know why they had to hear about this over the news instead of from you directly. You have no clue what it means to date me, openly, publicly.”
“I guess I’m going to find out, right?” Suguru says and then hesitates. “I mean—assuming you still want to. I kinda just assumed with you telling your family and all.”
“Oh, for fucks sake don’t be stupid,” Satoru groans out and pulls Suguru into a kiss. “Of course I want to.”
“Great. So, a spring wedding, huh?”
“My mom wants cherry blossoms everywhere,” Satoru tells him with an eyeroll and Suguru laughs, happy and in love and apparently engaged.
“Let her have that. We get what we want on that day, too, so let her have that. Do you need me to go down on a knee?” he asks, completely out of the blue if Satoru’s confused blinking is anything to go by and Suguru laughs when Satoru goes bright red in the face.
“Suguru!”
“What? Do you want me to, yes or no?”
“Yes, okay?” Satoru mutters and hides his face behind his hands.
Suguru pulls his hands away, pressing kisses to his palms before he peppers them all over Satoru’s face and then he smoothly goes down on one knee.
“Satoru,” he starts and immediately, Satoru tears up, so Suguru decides to keep it simple. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” Satoru manages to get out, right before the tears spill over and Suguru laughs as he gets back up and immediately moves in for a kiss.
It tastes of salty tears, sugary love and never-ending happiness and Suguru wouldn’t have it any other way.
Just like he wouldn’t have Satoru any other way than as his husband. He can’t wait for spring.
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steddieas-shegoes · 2 months
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no more waiting
for @steddielovemonth day four prompt ‘love is being willing to wait for them’
a fix-it for these: steve pov | eddie pov  
rated m | 1,094 words | cw: post breakup, implied sexual content | tags: getting back together, angst with a happy ending, mutual pining
🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶
Steve should’ve called him Tuesday when the news broke.
And then he should’ve called him Wednesday when he ran into Wayne at the store and he said Eddie was coming home for a bit.
By the time Thursday afternoon came around, he didn’t need to call him. He was standing at Steve’s front door.
“Eddie.”
“Steve.”
It was stilted, more awkward than they’d ever been, even when they “broke up.”
“You just get into town?” Steve asked as if he didn’t know.
“Yeah,” Eddie answered as if he didn’t already find out that Wayne had told Steve his exact travel plans.
“You wanna come in?” Steve asked like he’d die if Eddie said no.
“Yeah, please.” Eddie replied, just short of begging.
Eddie knew where to go, knew how to act like this was his home just like he had for nearly a year before leaving. Before Steve insisted he leave.
He settled on the couch, leaving room for Steve to sit close, but not touching.
Touching would be too much, too painful.
“You saw?” He finally asked, picking at the hole in his jeans.
“Yeah.” Steve reached over to pull Eddie’s fingers away from the string hanging off his pants. He didn’t let go as he spoke. “I’m proud of you.”
Eddie’s eyes bounced between his own, searching for the hint of a lie, jealousy, anything that might give him an excuse to stay away. But as he expected, as he hoped, none of that was in Steve’s eyes.
“It doesn’t mean shit to me,” Eddie admitted.
Steve’s brows furrowed in confusion, his body tensing at the unexpected hostility in Eddie’s tone.
“None of it means a fucking thing to me without you.”
“Eds-“
“I know what we said, I know. But I can’t do it anymore. The first person I wanted to call was you. The first thing I wanted to do was fuck you into the mattress of my bunk on the bus. There’s no world where I can be a rock star without you standing there with me.” Eddie looked down at their joined hands. “I don’t care what it means for me. I don’t care what it means for the band. I don’t care if I have to give it all up tomorrow. I just want you.”
"I won't let you give it up, not now. You finally made it, Eds," Steve pulled one hand away to wipe at his eyes, equal parts happy to hear that Eddie still wanted him and sad that he couldn't have him. "I can't let you live to regret me. I couldn't wake up one day knowing that you blame me for keeping you back."
"Then come with me! Don't keep me back!" Eddie was crying as much as Steve, eyes red like he'd already been crying before he got to Steve's house. "You're keeping yourself back. What are you gonna do when the kids go? They don't wanna stay here, so they'll spread out and you'll still be here. You'll have wasted years being here for them. What about being there for you? What about letting them be there for each other and calling them up once in a while like I do? Like Robin and Nancy do? You don't owe anyone here anything, especially not if it costs you your happiness."
Steve had heard it all before from everyone, even Dustin, even Hopper, but it never really sunk in. It wasn't really now, either, but he was at least trying to think through it.
It made sense, but it always had made sense. It's just that what made the most sense was being here for the people who needed him.
"Do you really think those kids would be upset if you tried to be happy? Do you think they would rather you stay here and be miserable?"
"No." That answer was easy. The kids would never want him to be miserable. Nobody in their group would.
"Then be happy, Stevie. Be happy with me. I'd do anything to keep you happy," Eddie begged, lifting his hands to kiss his knuckles. "I want you to do this with me. I wanna sing to you every night, sweetheart."
"What if you get tired of singing to me every night?"
Eddie shook his head, smiling fondly at the man in front of him. "I can't imagine a life where I'd ever get tired of seeing the way your cheeks turn pink and you get that goofy smile on your face when I look at you from the stage. But if it did, then you can come right back here or go to Robin or anyone, because everyone loves you and wants the best for you."
Steve knew that, always had known that deep down.
"So the guys are just cool with me tagging along?"
"The guys will be thrilled to not have me pouting 22 hours of the day. They'll welcome you with open arms."
Now was when they could seal it with a kiss, maybe even let themselves get carried away, strip off their clothes, hurry through months of yearning in a few minutes. They could take it to the bedroom, or the shower, or the floor if they wanted to risk a sore back. They could leave marks that would take days to fade, and laugh about the way Eddie always, always makes the same whimpering noise when he gets inside Steve. They could, but they don't.
Steve leans his head against Eddie's shoulder and Eddie cups the back of his head, lets his fingers twist in his hair. They both let out a sob, recognition of how much they missed each other, how stupid they were for thinking being apart was better for either of them, finally sinking in.
"I'm sorry." Steve breathed against Eddie's neck, shaky and unsure.
"I'm sorry, too."
They stayed curled up on the couch together for hours, until Dustin showed up yelling about Steve not answering his phone. They hadn't even heard it ring, so wrapped up in their own bubble.
Eddie shooed him away, told him they'd be by to see him later, and surprisingly, Dustin left.
Only then did they manage to get up and go to Steve's bedroom, undressing as they went, lips never far from skin, as they got reacquainted with the taste and feel of each other.
Later ended up being the next morning, but luckily, Dustin didn't say a damn word when they both showed up at his door holding hands and beaming more at each other than at him.
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hairmetal666 · 7 months
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Read Part One here
cw: implied child abuse
Eddie's coming over for coffee. Not Eddie with Nancy and Robin or Eddie with the kids. Just Eddie.
They haven't been alone in 9 years and now Eddie is coming over for coffee.
They're friends, of course. After Vecna they didn't have much of a choice, but they've never talked about it--that they used to be something.
After Steve kissed Eddie goodbye for what turned out to be the last time, they didn't see each other again for months and months, except for a devastatingly fleeting moment in the Family Video parking lot. And the next time after that, Eddie's pinning him to the wall of a rickety boathouse, a broken bottle to his throat.
What's going through his mind, his body, at that moment is relief. For days, weeks, months, he ached for Eddie's touch again, and even though he was in danger, he relished in the push of their bodies together. Thought, if this is how he dies, he won't mind going.
But they don't talk about it, about them, because Eddie is on the run and Max is going to die, and they have to save the world, so there's no time. In the aftermath, it's the least of their worries, and now it's been almost a decade and Eddie is coming over for coffee.
The thing is, it's not like Steve has been pining away for a love long lost in the intervening years, and neither has Eddie. They've both had longterm, serious relationships; Steve almost got married. But for Steve...Eddie is the one that's lingered, the one that knocks around his ribcage on late sleepless nights, the one that makes him dream of what might have been. Because Steve truly loved his other partners, but Eddie--nobody will ever compare.
Someone is knocking a rhythm at his front door, and he can't stifle his smile even as his heart runs riot in his chest.
"Hey, man," he says, remarkably nonchalant as he takes Eddie in. Still beautiful, still brimming with energy; his smile wide and dimpled, bouncing on his toes.
"Harrington!" Eddie grabs him into a quick side hug, slapping his back. "Since when do you wear glasses?"
Steve chuckles, touching the horn-rimmed frames. "Oh, god, Robin forced me to get them back in '87? Too many concussions." He touches his forehead. "I usually just wear contacts."
"It's a good look," Eddie says. He's very much not looking at Steve, eyes roaming around the Chicago apartment he's been to many times before.
He watches as Eddie spots the display of his own books, index finger slowly slipping across the spines in a way that makes Steve remember when those same fingers would slide down his spine. He stifles a shiver, turns towards the kitchen.
"So, how's New York? How's the book coming?"
"Livin' the dream." It's not flippant, not like how most people mean it. Eddie leaks genuineness, always has. "The book though...it's a little rough."
Steve sets the coffee maker going, brings fresh pastries and a couple plates over to the table. "I can imagine. It doesn't--it doesn't have to be the same, you know?"
"Yeah, if only I hadn't written three other books leading up to the evil mind wizard," Eddie chuckles. He grabs a croissant and tears it in half. "It'll be alright, Harrington. I'll figure it out. I lived through it the first time, after all."
Steve doesn't remind him that he almost didn't, that they almost didn't. Instead, he pours coffee, listens as Eddie talks about how to fictionalize the worst month of their collective lives.
He splashes milk into Eddie's coffee, taps in three scoops of sugar. He carries it to where Eddie waits, still talking about the logistics of Vecna-slash-Henry-slash-One in his novel, but his words abruptly stop as his hands wrap around the porcelain.
"Steve?"
It's only then that Steve realizes what he's done--made Eddie's coffee like he took it back then, made it without thinking, totally on muscle memory, when the best of his mornings were spent in Eddie's arms.
His cheeks glow crimson and he grips at the back of his neck. "S-sorry." He says. "It--is this still how you take it?"
"Yeah." Eddie's eyes fall from Steve's face, his own cheeks pink. "It's--yeah. Still the same."
"I'm sorry--"
"--Steve, I--"
They don't laugh. They both stop speaking and look at each other, faces still red. Steve thinks there's nothing for it but to get it all out now.
"I'm sorry, Eddie." He takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry I never came back. I'm sorry I didn't explain why. I'm just--really, really sorry."
Eddie's eyes are hooked on the table top, fingers twisting and twisting his coffee mug. "Can I--why? I waited and you--why?"
Steve swallows, but it gets stuck in his throat, and now he's the one who can't look up from his hands.
"My parents got home early," he manages. "My dad, he was waiting for me. I guess one of the neighbors thought it best to tell them who I'd been spending my time with."
Silence falls over the table, and he chances a look up at the man across from him, the one whose knuckles bite into his lips, whose eyes shine with unshed tears.
"You should've called me. You should've--you could've stayed with us. We would've kept you safe."
"Eddie, I couldn't. I physically couldn't," the admission costs him so much.
"Steve," Eddie chokes on his name, voice nothing but anguish. "Did anyone--You could've--you were all alone."
He shakes his head. "Robin knew. She snuck through my window to take care of me, but my parents--I couldn't--" This time the words really won't come. "We made a plan. We started that job at Family Video, and we saved up our money."
Now, Eddie's face is creased with grief. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry."
Steve shakes his head, smiles despite the wreckage around his heart. "You have nothing to be sorry for, baby. I left you with no explanation. I broke your heart. And--and--" He thinks, what does it hurt to say it at this point. "I love you. I love you so much. I convinced myself you were better off without me, that we could have a clean break and you could get over me."
Eddie's hands cover his face, muffle the sob that slips out. "Get over you?" He whispers. "There's never been one like you, sweetheart."
He slides around the table to kneel at Eddie's side. "Hey." Deep brown eyes stare back at him, Eddie's face wet with tears. "It's always you, Ed. Always. I didn't want to say anything, if you had moved on, but--"
There's not really any transition from them talking to them kissing; Steve slips into it like he did all those years ago, when he first asked for Eddie's kiss. Their mouths slot together, their bodies fit like they always used to, perfect puzzle pieces. Steve's knees give out at the first brush of Eddie's tongue, and they collapse into a heap on the kitchen floor. Even then, they don't part.
Eventually, Steve does break the embrace, face flushed and hair a disaster, glasses hanging off one ear. "Okay, trying to be responsible here. Should we take a pause, go on a date first? Slow down?"
"Nine years isn't slow enough?" Eddie's pupils are blown, hair frizzed around his head.
"When you put it that way," Steve can't help but laugh. "I just want to do right by you, Eddie. Make up for--everything."
Eddie grins down at him, that sunshine beam smile where his dimples pop. "Tell you what, how bout you take me to bed now, and I'll let you take me on a date tomorrow?"
"Oh, you'll let me?" Steve rakes a hand through Eddie's mane of hair. "I don't think you'll have any choice."
"You sure about that, Stevie?" Their lips are so close, the brush with every word.
"Uh-huh," Steve's having trouble keeping his eyes focused, overwhelmed by the sheer force of Eddie Munson. "Never letting you go again, Ed."
Surprise! Part 2! I genuinely had no intention on doing a follow-up, but so many of you asked so nicely that it gave me this idea. Sorry if I miss anyone in the tag list and thank you for reading! @everywherenothere @tiny-enthusiast @emma-elsa-0000 @fuzzyduxk @moonythepluviophile @anaibis @rhapsodyinalto @bunk12bear @tillystealeaves @velocitytimes2 @s-trawberryv-eins @marklee-blackmore @ignoremyworld @its-a-me-a-morgan @goodolefashionedloverboi @starman-jpg @djohawke @adaydreamaway08
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strwbrrymlkjh · 10 months
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I can't say 'hello' to you and risk another goodbye
alhaitham x gn! reader
it was a casual day of strolling through the city looking for a gift for cyno and you never thought you would bump into someone you have avoided for a long time.
a/n: angst, hopeful ending, maybe OOC Alhaitham, title from 'i almost do' by taylor swift
wc: 2.5k
AO3
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Every year on June twenty-third, you and your friends gather to celebrate Cyno’s birthday. And with birthdays comes gifts. You were not able to attend his celebration for the previous year so you were trying to make it up to him this year by giving him something special. It was a casual day of strolling through the city looking for the most appropriate gift and the last thing you thought would happen was you bumping into someone you have avoided for a long time.
As it turns out, listing off TCG card shops inside your head was not a very good idea as you will be too preoccupied to notice the the tall figure standing in your way, too immersed in his own world as well.
It all happened so fast. One second you were walking and the next, a strong hand is holding your forearm to prevent you from falling face first on the sidewalk and embarrassing yourself in front of countless people. You are about to apologize for not looking at where you are going and having your head in the clouds but your words get caught in your throat once you take a good look at your savior.
Standing in front of you with the same towering height, serious and calculating eyes and extremely familiar soundproof earpieces is your former boyfriend Alhaitham. Scanning him from head to toe, you think that you might fall again despite his strong grip on your arm. You will gladly do so and let the earth swallow you from where you lay if it means saving yourself from interacting with him.
You are convinced that the universe is out to get you as Alhaitham slowly and carefully lets go of your arm and removes the device covering his ears.
"Are you hurt?” He asked while placing the earpieces on his neck. You shook your head no as you brushed off the imaginary dust on your pants. The feeling of his touch lingers on your arm.
"I should ask you the same thing. I was not really looking at where I am going so it was my fault for bumping into you. Sorry.” You responded sheepishly while staring at the tiles that adorned the street.
"I’m fine.” Still a man of few words, you taught.
You finally had the courage to steal a glance from him only to find that he was already staring at you. Averting your gaze as quickly as possible, you started thinking of ways to flee. You wanted this meeting to end as soon as possible, to run as fast and as far away from here as you can, but you couldn’t. It was as if your feet were glued to the floor as you tried to make up excuses in your head.
Oh, that’s it. You should just tell him that you were looking for a gift for someone.
"Uhm, I should -” you started.
"Are you here to buy something for Cyno?”
You stopped in your tracks. Ah, yes. Cyno is one of your mutual friends.
You almost forgot about that fact as it has been a year since you last spent time with Alhaitham. Twelve months of radio silence and actively going out of your way to avoid him. Anyone would think that you two had a bad breakup. If only that was what really happened.
You have been captivated by Alhaitham the first time you saw him when you were children. As a child, you did not understand why but he was the first and only person that made your heart beat so fast you could feel it on your tongue.
Confessing your feelings for him was a spur-of-the-moment decision. He just looked so beautiful that day silently standing beside you as you wait for your fellow scholars at Pardis Dhyai. His turquoise eyes glowing in the sunlight, gray hair dancing in the wind. You would not have been able to stop yourself from telling him that you like him even if you wanted to. To your disbelief, the aloof and stoic man agreed to go out with you.
Everything was going well at first. You were trying to get to know him on a different level - memorize his quirks, the things that make him tick. All your friends are happy for you both. But soon enough, the consequences of entering something without giving it much thought caught up to you.
You were hoping for a change in him once you became his significant other. Maybe a little more affection and communication. Instead, you felt alone in the relationship - always the only one to remember the important details about the other, always the only one initiating and planning dates.
You did not want him to change. You just wanted him to make you feel that he wanted you too. That he wanted to stay in this relationship with you.
At some point, you felt that you were burdening him with your presence, that you were disrupting his life. You start drowning yourself in what-ifs, your insecurities like fire gnawing at your stomach. Maybe he really is not the one for you, that there is someone out there for him. Someone you could never be; a person kinder and better than you. Better for him.
Ending what you had was not something you thought would happen but thinking about prolonging the agony for the both of you was more than enough reason to call it quits. So you did. And just like when you two got together, he simply nodded his head and agreed to break up with you.
You knew that being in his presence, even as friends, would only make you fall harder than ever before. You were trying so hard not to regret your decision so you decided to keep your distance. No speaking to each other, no stealing glances. You even refused to be in the same room as him until you have completely moved on.
In the past year where the both of you did not have a single significant interaction, you were confident that any trace of affection for him has completely disappeared. You thought you would be able to look at him without feeling any pain or regret.
That was not the case, it seems.
You were back to square one, feeling exactly the same way you felt that day you confessed to him. You wanted to reach out and wrap your arms around his waist, card your fingers through his hair, stare into those eyes and get lost in them. But you know you can’t do those things anymore.
You noticed that he was still waiting for your answer so you nodded, not trusting your words.
"I should get going.” You whispered, not wanting to spend another second in his presence lest you cry and confess your feelings for the second time.
It was rude to just leave him there without saying a proper goodbye but your tears were threatening to spill from your eyes so you just gave him a nod and without waiting for his reply, turned around and began walking away.
A quick escape is what you were expecting. What you were not expecting was nearly jumping out of your skin when his large hand made contact with your wrist and pulled you back to where you were standing seconds ago.
You stared at him with wide eyes, and judging by the look on his face, he was also shocked by what he had done. It took him a few more moments to get out of whatever trance he was in and he quickly released your hand.
“Uhm.” You did not know what else to say. Even after all this time, Alhaitham still has that effect on you.<
"I need your help,” He said. You looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to elaborate.
Noticing this, he added, “I have not chosen a gift for Cyno yet.”
Ohh
“Is it alright if I come with you?”
Everything in you was screaming to say no and walk away just as you planned. But you know you can never refuse this man, another thing that remains a fact even if you are not together anymore.
“Sure. No problem.” You responded in a small voice. You are convinced that your mind is playing tricks on you when you see a small smile grace his handsome face. His smiles were rare, after all.
“I was planning on buying something from there.” You pointed to a nearby trinket shop with TCG card banners hanging at the front.
“Lead the way.” He pushed the glass door and let you step inside first before trailing behind you. Your eyes scanned the objects on the display shelves and you felt the tears pricking your eyes once again.
“Alhaitham.” you called out his name which caught his attention. Saying it out loud felt foreign to your tongue after a long time of only whispering it in your head. The man turned around and stared at you.
“I’m going to look for TCG cards over there.” You pointed at the back of the shop. He kept his gaze on you for a few seconds before nodding his head.
You wiped the stray tears that escaped from your eyes while looking at the cards. You were not in your right mind to pick anything decent so you made it your goal to agree on the first thing that Alhaitham picks and leave like you originally planned to. You can always come back here before Cyno’s birthday anyway.
You lingered for a few more minutes, giving Alhaitham enough time to pick something. It was then that you noticed a shelf displaying preserved flowers in glass encasements. One particular flower caught your eye, a Padisarah.
It looked so beautiful inside the glass encasement, as if suspended in time. You smiled at the thought. If only you could have frozen time that day you confessed to Alhaitham, when the only thing you can feel is the overwhelming love you have for him. Maybe you would not feel as if a part of you was missing. Maybe then you would not have to spend sleepless nights being a prisoner of your thoughts, dissecting every interaction with him, trying to find some sort of signal that he likes you as much as you like him. Until now, it was almost impossible to tell how he feels about you.
You were so lost in your thoughts that you failed to notice Alhaitham’s presence behind you.
“Have you found something?” You were startled as you suddenly heard his deep voice. He has caught you staring so intently at the flowers that he can’t help but examine it too.
You needed to get out of here. “I have to go. Kaveh told me he needs help with things.” was your lame excuse.
Alhaitham looked like he was about to say something. Instead he kept his mouth shut and nodded his head with an indescribable look on his face. You felt bad for lying but you did not want to break down inside the store in front of him.
“I’m sorry. Maybe you’ll find something here.” You headed straight for the shop’s doors. You have no idea where you are headed but you really just want some place where you can let your tears out.
You have always been an emotional person. It was one of the key differences between you and Alhaitham. Despite this, he has been very patient with you - always accompanying you to wherever you wanted to go, helping you with the lessons that you found difficult to understand, silently listening to your rants after a bad day. The memory made you realize that he showed his affection for you in his own ways.
Maybe he was not lacking, you were simply not content.
You have not made it to your car when the unshed tears started escaping and soon enough, you were bawling your eyes out. For the first time since you convinced yourself that you have moved on, you allowed yourself to cry.
You were sitting on the curb trying to control your breathing when you heard a familiar voice call out your name. Lifting your head, you saw a disheveled Alhaitham holding a paper bag with the logo of the shop where you left him.
You did not have time to wipe your tears away when he suddenly bent down and wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on the top of your head.
I am so sorry,” the man whispered, his hold around you tightening. You were too shocked to even say a word. What is going on?
“I know I am the last person you want to see but I need you to know that I am so sorry for not saying anything and letting you walk away. I should have - “ his voice cracked.
“I should have said something.” he rested his head on your shoulder. You, still at a loss for words, became acutely aware of the close proximity of your faces. At this angle, you could see how tightly he has his eyes closed, as if stopping tears that are threatening to spill.
In a hoarse and broken voice, he continued, “Everyday, in a sea of faces, I find myself looking for yours. I missed you so much. You have no idea.”
You placed your hand on his cheeks urging him to pull back and allow you to properly look at him. It was the first time that you have seen him with this distraught and worried look on his handsome face.
He lifted the paper bag on the floor behind you and presented it to you. You opened the bag and the content was not something you were expecting. It was the preserved Padisarah you were staring at earlier.
You did not know what to say. You did not know what this meant. You looked at Alhaitham, hoping he has the answers to your unsaid questions.
“I thought you were shopping for Cyno.”
“I wasn't,” he admitted. Then closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as if preparing himself for something. “I had no idea how to keep you from leaving and it was the only excuse I could come up with.”
"Please accept it. I will not inconvenience you any longer.” Your eyes widened at his words. He took your silence as a sign that you did not want anything to do with him. He started getting up and walking away but you were still frozen in your place.
You were hesitating, still in the prison of what-ifs you made for yourself. Between the both of you, Alhaitham was never the emotional one but he had been very honest with his feelings today and it was only fair for you to reciprocate. This was the second chance that you did not know you had been waiting for and you’ll be damned if you let it slip away.
Wiping your eyes, you stared at the flower as you placed it back carefully inside the bag before chasing after the man you’ve loved for so long that you can’t imagine ever loving someone else again.
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wangxianficrecs · 16 days
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Tell Me To Stay by YilingSani
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Tell Me To Stay
by YilingSani (@yiling-sani)
G, 14k, Wangxian
Summary: With heavy steps, Wei Ying walks back to the living room and plops down on the sofa again. His silver eyes travel around the room for a while, mind flooded by memories of sunny mornings, meals and cosy evenings together and all the surfaces they fucked each other on. Then they stop at the door of Lan Zhan's study. If he walked out right now... If Lan Zhan walked out right now and spoke to him, Wei Ying would throw the backpack away, hold his boyfriend close and never let him go. He begs. He begs it would happen. He begs Lan Zhan to somehow feel how much on the edge Wei Ying is balancing right now. "Please," he whispers - the tightening feeling in his throat is slowly choking him while the silver eyes threaten to fill with tears. "Please, Lan Zhan." Kay's comments: AKA the story that made me cry on public transit. Absolutely loved it though. A Wangxian break-up and make-up story and often those tend to bash Wei Wuxian or force him to do all the emotional labour, but this one doesn't. Instead, it's Lan Wangji who has to work on himself and start fighting for them. The worst person in this entire story is actually Lan Xichen, so if you like him... Maybe skip out on this one. Really loved the relationship development here, Wei Wuxian putting himself first for the first time and Wangxian finding their way back towards each other and that not magically fixing everything. Excerpt: He places the plate on the table and sits down on the edge, right next to Lan Zhan. "Sweetheart, you need to stop this," he finally says. "Stop what?" Lan Zhan asks, eyes never leaving the screen. "Working so much," Wei Ying points out. "You're hurting yourself. Why can't Huan-ge help you with this?" Lan Zhan exhales in frustration. "Because Huan-ge was the one who screwed this up in the first place." "You cannot fix the whole company by yourself." "I can try." "Lan Zhan," Wei Ying shakes his head and raises his hand to caress Lan Zhan's cheek. But the other man grabs his wrist, the golden eyes darting up, filled with sudden anger. His grip is so strong Wei Ying feels like his wrist will break in half. "I need to do this, Wei Ying," he says through gritted teeth. "You don't understand. The whole company depends on me. People depend on me."
pov wei wuxian, pov lan wangji, modern setting, modern no powers, established relationship, breaking up & making up, lan wangji has issues, lan xichen bashing, getting back together, developing relationship, angst with a happy ending, therapy, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, good friend wen qing
~*~
(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)
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withacapitalp · 1 year
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75 or 25 with Steddie for the writing prompts?
Me, chanting to myself: Write something short, Write something short, Write something short
Myself @ Me: Lol bet
Read it on ao3 here
25. “When you love someone, you don’t just stop. Ever. Even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy… even then. Especially then!”
“I love getting to show people my favorite movie, but I have to admit, I’m much much happier to have your pretty face all to myself,” Eddie chuckled, shutting the door of the trailer behind the last of the kids. He leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath in and closing his eyes. The whole place was warm in the best way possible, and the smell of fresh baked sweets was still hanging in the air. 
Movie night was his favorite.  
They had a very strict schedule for biweekly movie nights, a structured routine that Nancy had come up with to keep any and all arguments at bay. With the system working, everyone got to pick once every six weeks. Not ideal, but the closest to fair that things would get. 
The best part was, Steve had decided to make a whole evening of it when he realized it was finally Eddie’s turn to choose. He spent hours cooking a nice meal for everyone, finishing it off with Labyrinth themed cupcakes for them to enjoy. He even used glass marbles as decorations, making the frosting look just like Sarah’s infamous dress. 
Sure, Steve had fallen asleep halfway through, completely tuckered out from all the work he put into making things perfect, but somehow that only added to the charm of the moment. Eddie couldn’t think of anything more wonderful than having his boyfriend’s head in his lap while they watched a movie surrounded by their family. He had been excited for Steve to finally see his favorite movie, but things were best this way. 
Well, he could think of one or two things that might make the night even better. 
However, any intentions Eddie had of moving things to the bedroom died the second he got a good look at Steve. 
His boyfriend didn’t just look tired, he was exhausted. Steve’s face was drawn in a stressed frown, and he was leaning his elbows heavily against his knees as he stared vacantly at the floor between his feet. 
“What’s goin’ on, Sunshine? Still tired?” Eddie hummed, walking over and leaning down to press a kiss to Steve’s forehead. 
But the second Eddie got close, Steve took a sharp breath in, pulling away like he had just been electrocuted. He got up and began to pace, running his hands anxiously through his hair and avoiding looking in his boyfriend’s direction. 
“Steve?” Eddie said softly, watching him with wide nervous eyes. All of the happiness that had been filling him was leaking out like a balloon, a foreboding worry sliding into its place. 
Steve paused, his entire body growing stiffer the longer he stayed silent. The tension was killing him, but just as Eddie went to break it, his boyfriend spoke first. 
“I think we should break up,” Steve said in a rush, keeping his body turned away from Eddie. 
“Hilarious, Harrington,” Eddie replied with a roll of his eyes, ignoring the stone that was starting to sink his stomach into the ground, “What’s actually going on?”
“We need to break up,” Steve repeated sternly, whipping around so they were face to face. His eyes were sparking and his jaw was set, but Eddie could see the growing shine in his eyes, and the way Steve’s hands were shaking. 
He looked two seconds from completely falling apart, and Eddie didn’t have a single clue why. 
“You’re serious,” Eddie stated.
“Yes,” Steve said, crossing his arms and clenching his fists to hide the tremors that Eddie had already seen.  
Eddie had never been very good at school, but that didn’t really mean a damn when it came to being intelligent. He sucked at sitting still, and he couldn’t care less about subjects that weren’t interesting, but Eddie was smart as a whip when he wanted to be. 
When it was something he cared about, Eddie made a point to know anything and everything he could, and he cared about Steve more than he had ever cared about anything in his life. 
Shaking hands. Glassy eyes. ‘Need to’ instead of ‘want to’. 
Hm. 
Well, wasn't that interesting? 
“Need to,” Eddie scoffed, striding past Steve. He flipped his hair casually, yanking the fridge open and rooting around in it, “Do you have some sort of explanation as to why?”
He heard Steve take a breath in, but Eddie interrupted it by throwing a beer can behind him, listening to Steve fumble with it for a second. 
“Because this morning you were telling me that you’ve never been happier,” Eddie growled, cracking open his own beer with a hiss and gulping down half the can, “and now you’re saying you want to break up. Oh, no, I’m sorry- you’re saying that we need to break up.” 
Steve was back to avoiding eye contact, but Eddie wasn’t having that. He crossed the room in three steps, getting in Steve’s face and practically losing it when Steve brushed past him and went to walk away. Steve knew that Eddie hated when people walked away from him. He knew that. 
“I- I just wanna, okay?” Steve stammered, putting the can on the table by the door and reaching for the handle, “Look it was fun but-”
“No,” Eddie snapped, shutting the door just as Steve began to open it. 
“No?” Steve said.
“No,” Eddie agreed, putting his foot down metaphorically and his back against the door literally. “Not unless you tell me why,”
Tell me why you’re doing this when you don’t want to? 
Tell me what happened to make you think this was okay? 
…Tell me why I’m not good enough?
“Because I fell asleep,” Steve muttered, self-hatred oozing from every word. 
What?! 
That was the big reason? That made no sense. They fell asleep watching movies all the time. Eddie had fallen asleep watching a movie two days ago. 
“You fell asleep watching Labyrinth…and you want to break up over that?” Eddie sneered. 
“That’s only part of it,” Steve sighed, “You wouldn’t understand,” 
“Then please, enlighten me oh great King Steve,” Eddie snarled, hating the way Steve flinched away from him, “What exactly did I do?”
“It’s not you, it’s me,” Steve instantly shot back, both of them cringing at his word choice, “No I- god that sounds stupid. I’m-”
Steve cut himself off with a groan, hands back in his hair, pulling in a way that couldn’t have felt good. It took everything Eddie had to not reach over and take Steve’s hands in his own to stop him. 
“I’m not good enough for you! Okay?” Steve exploded, his voice cracking even as he continued to try and mask his pain with anger. “I’m not good enough for you, and so I want to break up. That’s it.”
“I can’t believe this,” Eddie said, scoffing, “Steve Harrington, the golden boy of Hawkins is saying that he isn’t good enough for drug dealing trailer park trash Eddie Munson?”
“Don’t call yourself that,” Steve snapped automatically. 
“In what world are you not good enough for me?!” Eddie shouted, grabbing Steve’s wrists in an iron grip and tugging his boyfriend close. They were nose to nose, and Steve, who had always been an open book, was telling Eddie everything. 
The anger was gone, resignation taking its place. Steve tugged ever so slightly against Eddie, and he let him go, following the other boy as he walked towards the couch. 
“In what world? This one,” Steve said softly, practically collapsing against the cushions. “Eddie, no one thinks I’m right for you. Your bandmates, Wayne… not even the kids,” 
The kids? 
Eddie’s brain was flying in a million different directions, and he couldn’t remember anything that anyone had said no matter how hard he tried. Steve hadn’t even been awake for most of it, he only woke up at the end to say goodbye to everyone. The kids had teased him a little for falling asleep, maybe joked that Steve must have thought the movie wasn’t that good, but nothing out of the ordinary. 
Nothing that should have caused Steve to go this off the rails. 
“Steve-” 
“And they’re right, Eddie. They’re right,” Steve said, laughing incredulously, “I mean, why do you even wanna be with me? I can’t go to your shows-”
“Because you have PTSD from saving the world four times,” Eddie interrupted. 
“-And I can’t listen to your music-” Steve continued. 
“-because you have tinnitus from, oh yeah, saving the world four times!” Eddie pushed. 
“Don’t use that as an excuse! Just- let me talk. Please?” Steve said, his eyes glistening as he begged Eddie to stop. 
“Fine,” Eddie said, crossing his arms and sitting back, staring at Steve. The younger boy took a steadying breath, gathering both his thoughts and his courage. 
“It’s everything,” Steve said, shrugging helplessly as he looked down, “I don’t understand dungeons and dragons, I get bored reading Lord of the Rings, and tonight I fell asleep watching your favorite movie. The kids were just being little assholes, but they’re right. It was crazy for us to think this was ever going to work. Why are we even together if we don’t like any of the same things? Why do you want to be with someone who doesn’t care enough about the things you love?” 
“Stevie,” Eddie breathed, unable to understand how things had gotten this twisted in his boy’s mind, “Baby,” 
“You said you’d let me talk.” Steve said over him, stopping Eddie’s protest in its tracks, “It’s just… Eventually you’re gonna realize that we have nothing in common. And when the novelty wears off, you’ll be bored,” 
Bored? 
Bored of the most wonderful person Eddie had ever gotten the pleasure of knowing? 
“You’re gonna get tired of explaining things to me and you’re gonna find someone who your friends can actually stand being around without rolling their eyes every two minutes. You’re going to find someone better and- and you deserve that. You deserve a person who can cheer you on at your shows, who can scream along to your music when you’re driving. Someone who your uncle approves of,” Steve said, intentionally treading right on one of the sorest spots in their relationship. 
Wayne was still wary of Steve, still overprotective. Eddie had thought that his boyfriend understood that it wasn't really about him, that Wayne just needed more time to figure out what Eddie already knew- Steve would never hurt him. Never. 
Well, except for right now. Right now he was breaking Eddie’s heart right in half. 
“You’re gonna figure out what everyone else already gets,” Steve whispered, his voice barely audible as his arms squeezed tight around his middle. 
“And what’s that?” Eddie muttered dully, feeling a hollow ache start to grow in his chest. Steve’s lip curled in the worst smile Eddie had ever seen, wobbling as he began to blink rapidly. 
“You’re gonna realize that beyond being a pretty face with a fancy house, and a nice car, and a hard head, I don’t bring anything to the table,” Steve admitted, with a tiny shrug, “I’m not really anything special, and you deserve someone special. So why don’t we both just cut our losses, huh? Before either of us gets too deep,” 
Before they got too deep. 
Eddie was already in the Marianas fucking Trench. 
He was drowning in Steve Harrington, surrounded by icy black water that was burning his eyes and making it impossible to breathe. There was no way to come up for air, no rope to tug to be pulled up. Eddie was as deep as he could go, and he was finally seeing the Kraken that was looming over both of them. 
Steve didn’t want to break up. 
He wanted to be noble. 
And that thought was the thing that pissed Eddie off more than anything. 
“Nothing,” Eddie spat out, the word feeling poisonous just sitting on his tongue, too bitter to be spoken, “You think that you’re nothing?” 
Steve dragged a breath in, the first few tears managing to slip past his defenses. He hadn’t said those exact words, but Eddie had, and they sat in the air and cut them both to the core. 
“If that’s really all you were, then you’re right. We should break up,” Eddie said. 
Steve let out the softest pain-filled noise Eddie had ever heard, moving to stand up, to walk out of Eddie’s life without so much as a goodbye.
Unfathomable. Unimaginable. Unacceptable. 
Eddie latched his hand around Steve’s bicep, not just pulling him down, but also pulling him in. Their foreheads nearly knocked together as Eddie’s dark almost jet black eyes locked onto Steve’s. 
“But you are not nothing, Steve Harrington. You are everything,” Eddie whispered harshly, his breath ghosting over Steve’s lips. He raised one hand and cupped Steve’s cheek, watching his fingers as they shook in anger. 
“Eddie,” Steve pleaded, but Eddie just shook his head. 
“No. I let you talk. Now it’s your turn to listen,” He ordered, keeping a tight grip on Steve, making sure there was no way he could wriggle away or look down. 
“You really think that I give a single fuck what everyone else thinks?” Eddie asked rhetorically, barking out a harsh laugh, “I have spent my entire life bucking tradition and spitting in the face of what society says I should want. Dating you might be the most metal thing I’ve ever done, Sweetheart,”
A brief barely there smile flitted across Steve’s face, and a jagged part of Eddie’s soul smoothed out. His boy was still there, his sunshine, his sweetheart. He was just hiding, trying to protect himself in the worst way possible. 
“I adore getting to explain things to you. Do you even get how much fun it is to tell you every single thing and know that you’re listening? You always ask me the coolest questions, give me the best ideas for potential plot holes.” 
Eddie let his eyes slip shut, seeing the two of them in his mind. They were sitting together in Steve’s plaid monstrosity of a bedroom. Eddie was lying flat on his back on the floor, and Steve was on his stomach on the bed, listening with a look of pure adoration, holding his chin up on his palm as he watched Eddie’s arms swing to and fro in the air while he described the plan for the next Hellfire campaign. 
“You think I’m gonna get bored of you? Stevie, we could spend a thousand years together, and I’d still say I didn’t get enough time. I don’t get how you don’t see everything you do for me. No, you don’t come to my shows, but you make me snacks before every rehearsal, and stay up late to listen to me talk about the gig after. You can’t listen to my music, but you got me the new Dio album the day it came out just because you knew I’d like it.”
Dream Evil. It was sitting in the case just across the room, proudly displayed next to a dozen other albums Steve had gotten for him, Just because. He was always doing that, getting Eddie little gifts just because. 
“You try so damn hard. Wayne’s still scared you’re gonna hurt me, and I know that’s upsetting, but you still don’t stop trying to get him to see how much you care.” Eddie breathed, knocking their foreheads together. 
Eddie knew he was going to have to talk to Wayne. Rather, he was going to have to argue with Wayne, because this really couldn’t go on anymore. The first few weeks it had been understandable, but they had been dating for almost three months now, and Steve was still getting the cold shoulder. Steve had said he was fine, that he understood, but Eddie could see how he let things go too far. He was not going to lose Steve just because his uncle was afraid. 
But that wasn’t something he could fix now. Now he just had to keep talking. Eddie wasn’t good at much, but he was good at running his mouth, and he would talk for as long as it took to get this through his boyfriend’s beautiful thick skull. 
“I think that might be the thing I adore most about you, you know? You never stop trying. No matter what happens, no matter how many times you get knocked down, you keep trying,” A smooth stone slid down Eddie’s throat, blocking the river of words. He swallowed around it, forcing himself to keep going. 
“You brought me back from the fucking dead, Steve,” Eddie whispered, feeling the scars on his sides practically sing in harmony, “Everyone else gave up, and you kept going. They were trying to drag you off of me, and you kept going. You barely even knew me.”
Steve jerked away, moving just enough so he could bury his face in Eddie’s shoulder, wrapping his arms tight around Eddie’s middle and digging his fingers into his shirt. 
“Couldn’t. Couldn’t leave you there,” Steve managed to choke out, practically in Eddie’s lap, “Not there. Not like that,”
“I know. I know,” Eddie soothed, holding his boyfriend close, “See? That’s you. That’s always been you. You saved my life because you’re you, and you never give up.” 
Eddie lowered his voice bringing his mouth right next to Steve’s ear and loving the shiver that he could feel running down Steve’s spine. 
“You never give up. So why the fuck are you giving up on me right now, Baby?” 
Steve let out a strangled little gasp at that, clinging onto Eddie even tighter. He shook, silently falling apart in Eddie’s arms. 
“Oh, angel,” Eddie murmured, holding them both together. Steve had done this for him a thousand times, soothed every nightmare, eased every panic attack. It was finally Eddie’s turn to do the same. 
He had never realized how much it hurt to be on this side of things. 
“Steve?” Eddie said, grabbing the other boy’s attention when he thought the worst of it was over, “You aren’t perfect. Not by a longshot. You get distracted easily, you can’t remember to turn on the dishwasher, you are stubborn as the day is long, you have a tendency to only listen to people who don’t care about you, and you’re forcing me to have this god awful conversation,”
Steve let out a soft breath of laughter at this and Eddie responded with his own indulgent little smile, rubbing his cheek against the top of Steve’s head. 
“You’re a melodramatic fucking brat, Stevie. But. You are my melodramatic fucking brat,” Eddie said. 
He leaned back, cupping Steve’s face in both his hands and marveling at the boy in front of him. Somehow even now with puffy red eyes and chewed on lips, Steve was still completely gorgeous. 
Maybe Eddie was just drunk on how much he loved Steve.. 
“You’re mine. You have been mine since day one, Baby. I’m not just going to wake up one day and decide I don’t want you anymore. You seem to have decided that I will, and so you wanna get it over with, and I get that, okay? I get it, but I need you to hear me when I say this.” 
Eddie waited until Steve’s eyes were lifted before taking a deep breath and biting the bullet. 
“I am not Nancy Wheeler,” Eddie stated bluntly, ripping the bandaid right off Steve’s deepest wound. “And I am not your parents. I’m not Tommy fucking Hagan or Carol fucking Perkins or any of the other jackasses in this town who didn’t care enough to realize how absolutely fucking precious you are,”
“Eddie-” Steve started. 
“Precious.” Eddie repeated, his eyes sparkling, “After everything you are still kind. You’re still kind, and you still let people in, even though so many people have hurt you. You let all of us in, even though that scares you more than anything.” 
“I’m gonna promise you something now. I promise that I am never going to wake up and just decide one day that you aren’t enough for me anymore. I’m not going to turn on a dime and decide you aren’t worth enough to stick around, because I seem to know something you still don’t get.”
Eddie pulled him in close, kissing Steve’s forehead and swiping both of his thumbs against his cheeks. 
“I know that when you love someone, when you really love someone, you don’t just stop. Ever. Even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy. Even then. Especially then!”
“You love me?” Steve croaked. Eddie’s eyes grew wide and he stiffened up. 
Fuck. 
The word had just slipped out. It was way too early to be saying that, way too fast to mean real genuine love. If Eddie wasn’t such a motor mouth he would have taken two fricken seconds to think about what he said without jumping too far too fast and ruining everything. 
If he was smart he would say something, try to take it back. If he was smart he would do that. 
But Steve was looking up at him like Eddie was holding the sun, the moon, and all of the stars, and there was no way he could backtrack. Eddie would throw himself into the Quarry before he did anything to make that look fade away. 
“I just poured my heart and goddamn soul out onto the floor, and all you heard was the ‘I love you,’” Eddie said with a breathless laugh, “You also heard the part where I called you a melodramatic fucking brat, right?!” 
Steve giggled. Honest to god giggled, reaching up and threading his fingers through Eddie’s where his hands were still cupping his cheeks. 
“You love me,” Steve said again, grinning from ear to ear. Eddie shook his head, trying to hide his own extremely stupid smile. 
“Yes, angel, I love you. I can’t remember loving anything or anyone the way I love you.” Eddie admitted.
In for a penny, in for an entire goddamn ton. 
Steve hummed happily, surging forward and locking their lips together. Eddie immediately deepened the kiss, letting his hands slide backwards. He tangled the left in Steve’s hair, using his right to pull Steve properly into his lap. Once they were properly situated, Eddie let himself get lost in the kiss, slipping and sliding into Steve and the blooming bursting love that was growing around them. 
“Still wanna break up?” Eddie joked when they broke away for air. Steve blushed, shyly shaking his head once, and Eddie grinned, nipping at Steve’s jaw. 
“Good. Because next time you try, I’ll make a wish for the goblins to come and take you!” He threatened, tickling Steve’s ribs and making the younger boy squirm away from him. 
“Goblins?” Steve asked once he was a safe distance away, raising a brow. 
Right. Steve had fallen asleep. That was what started this whole thing. 
“Okay we’re having a redo,” Eddie declared, jumping off of the couch and scampering over to the VCR to begin rewinding the tape, “You and I are going to sit here, and watch this movie. And when you fall asleep halfway through, you are going to put your head in my lap so I can play with your gorgeous perfect hair that I love so so much. You got it, Buster?”
Steve snickered, settling back into the cushions. 
“Got it,” He called back, pulling his legs up so they were at his side on the couch. 
Setting up the movie took barely any time, and before he knew it, Eddie was back on the couch, his boyfriend happily snuggled in his arms. 
“Oh, and Eds?” Steve said quietly as the opening credits began. 
“Yeah, Baby?”
“I love you too.”
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aziraphales-library · 4 months
Note
Hi there!! Hope you’re having a good day-
I was just wondering if you had any recs for some exes-to-lovers aziracrow fics??
Specifically any that are longer and multi-chapt, or maybe any that are human aus?? Any rating is fine.
Thanks a lot!
Check out our #reunion tag for loads more fics like this! Here are more to add to the collection...
Come, They Told Him by madrabbitgirl [E]
Crowley is having the comeback of a lifetime. He's been through rehab, he's playing arenas again and he's at the top of his game. Sure, he's burned some bridges along the way but everyone loves a second chance, right? He's not going to screw it up this time. Except, his new drummer Newt has contracted food poisoning and he can't afford to cancel his big show. Thankfully, Gabriel knows a guy who is very familiar with Crowley's ... body of work. And Crowley gets another second chance he never saw coming.
Stronger Than Hurt by TawnyOwl95 [E]
Everything changed the summer that Crowley fell off the Eastgate's garage roof and broke his arm.
Fourteen years later he stood outside a tattoo shop with a picture of the drawing Aziraphale Eastgate had done on his cast, and hoped for a second chance.
First Thing In The Morning by FeralTuxedo (E)
Aziraphale Fell, erstwhile nerd, now successful fantasy author, is signing books at this year’s Heaven and Earth convention when he spots a red-headed man in the crowd. Someone he hasn’t quite been able to forget since his school days. And as luck would have it, Anthony Crowley, former troublemaker, now responsible adult, seems keen to reconnect.
Love, Syncopation, and Other Key Elements of Jazz by feathereddino (T)
The jazz duo of A.J. and Fell are an unstoppable force well into their mid-twenties, but when Crowley's illness causes the pair to step back from the spotlight, an enterprising music manager scoops up Aziraphale's career. Dazzled, Aziraphale will abandon all of his former life to be Gabriel's perfect star but lose himself and his happiness along the way. It would take a very steady and forgiving heart for someone to love him through it all... (An ode to that ridiculous hat that Michael Sheen wears... seriously, that's where this came from.)
Dark Literature by UnproblematicMe (E)
Anthony J. Crowley, part owner of a large publishing company, is not happy when his partners hire his ex-lover Aziraphale Fell as an editor. Aziraphale does not exactly find the situation ideal either, but he needs the job. The two former lovebirds have to set their problems with each other aside when something dark and old awakes in the building they work in.
~Mods N & D
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steddie-fanfic-recs · 4 months
Text
i fear (for what tomorrow brings)
by scritch
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Nancy Wheeler, Robin Buckley, Dustin Henderson, Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Lucas Sinclair, Erica Sinclair, Jim "Chief" Hopper, Eleven | Jane Hopper Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Getting Back Together, Vecna Possessing Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington & Dustin Henderson Have a Sibling Relationship, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington Are Best Friends, Secret Relationship, Canon-Typical Violence, References to Depression, Season/Series 04, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Eddie Munson Lives, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, POV Steve Harrington, Unreliable Narrator, Horror Words: 93,413 Chapters: 14/14
Summary
Since Starcourt, Steve and Eddie have been meeting (and falling in love) secretly. Until - frustrated by Steve’s secrecy - Eddie ended things between them. Steve doesn't cope well. He's been having nightmares, nosebleeds, and painful headaches. Everything is made much worse after Chrissy Cunningham dies in Eddie's trailer. Steve is forced to watch as Eddie becomes involved in everything Steve tried so hard to protect him from. Or: Steve Harrington's No Good, Very Bad, Awful Month.
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passivenovember · 1 year
Text
All the way across time, Billy’s knuckles drip pearls of red onto the dashboard. He’s drunk. Can’t hold his head up for longer than ten seconds, just enough for Steve to get the seatbelt around him, and the door closed, and the window rolled down because, “I’m gonna ralph.”
Steve grips the wheel. 
It doesn’t matter. So his chest shouldn’t convulse, twisting with worry for this asshole. This dickhead. This reckless piece of--
“Steve, I’m gonna puke.”
Emotion clogs his throat, wading through two years of this means nothing to me. blonde hair and blue eyes and cherry red lips, paving the way toward nothing.
Billy grips his member’s jacket, “Please, I’m gonna be sick,” 
And.
Steve thinks he’d like to see that. Could enjoy it, maybe, relaxing into how a little bit of pain would smooth things over, but. 
“You’re not throwing up in here,” Steve says bluntly, neverminded the tell-tale shade of pea-green Billy’s nose has gone. “You should’ve thought it through before you did that last keg stand.”
“Had to do it,” Billy grumbles.
He does a lot of things because he thinks he’s supposed to. Kisses Steve for two years because he wants to. Asks Steve to run away with him because he has to. Can’t stay in the red pin-point of Hawkins a moment longer. Avoids Steve because he had to break up with him. Punches Steve’s new toy across the jaw because he has to--
It gets old.
Billy makes a pained gurgling noise, leaning forward to clutch at his stomach.
Steve frowns. “I’m not slowing the car down, asshole,” but he pumps the breaks, anyway, aching to rub his back even as the words land like fists against Billy’s spine. 
The Beemer Idles at the next red light so Billy can blow chunks on the cobble brick of Main street. 
Steve hates this.
He wants to go home. He imagines what would happen if he told Billy to walk. To find his own way back to cherry lane--He peers out the window, into the dead of night. Counts to twenty. Says, “I can’t believe you did that,” the second Billy’s upright again. 
Billy wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I tried to swallow it but it kept coming back up--”
“No, I mean.” The light changes. Steve pulls forward, so close to home he can almost feel his bedsheets against his skin. “The fight. I can’t believe--”
“I didn’t do it for you.”
Steve presses down on the gas pedal. “You’re such an asshole.”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re the martyr and I’m the monster lurching toward town hall. No two ways about it,” 
Steve turns onto Loch Nora, speeding toward his neighborhood like maybe if he gets there fast enough, things will start to make sense. He breathes through his nose. Feels the wind on his face. “You have twenty seconds to tell me why.” Steve says.
Billy fumbles around for his cigarettes, finally pinching one between his teeth and holding onto it while the car lighter sparks itself alive. By the time it pops free, glowing red like a fallen star in, Steve’s already cut the engine.
He’s home.
The grass needs watering and it’s almost summer. Billy puffs his cigarette. Won’t look at him and doesn’t say anything for a long time.
But Steve. He can’t accept that. It’s eating him alive, hope and anger raging wild in his stomach, getting drunk on stale beer. No matter what he’s thinking, chewing on words he can’t force into any meaningful order--
“It’s been more than twenty seconds.” 
Billy finally turns in his seat, eyebrow split open and trickling blood when he raises it. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Steve swallows around the lump in his throat, and. Billy’s eyes. They’re soft on Steve’s face. Softer than he’s seen them in months, since Billy killed this. Killed them. 
Steve feels like a ghost, watching Billy drop his skull against the headrest. In profile, Steve notices his lip blowing huge. Notices he’s hurt, more than he’ll ever let on, and.
“Why’d you do that,” Steve tries. 
He’s ready to beg. To kick and scream. Punch out the dashboard and shatter the window and light the whole world on fire. “Billy,” Steve says, hating the way his voice is going to crack and blow everything apart. “I--”
“I think,” Billy rasps, “My knuckles--”
Steve undoes his seatbelt, absolutely sick to his stomach.
--
The first time Billy broke up with him, Steve didn’t eat for three days. 
Not because he’s so gone on the asshole that Steve can’t live without him, but because Billy had shown up at Steve’s front door with three broken ribs and a black eye someone could park a school bus on. 
And Steve took one look at him, cracked open and bleeding himself because Billy wouldn’t let Steve touch him, and knew, that.
This was his fault. And it was over.
They never talked again, after that. Surprise, surprise.
Not about anything that matters. Not about what happens to Billy at home. If Max saw something she wasn’t supposed to. If Neil ever got curious, if he had people keep an eye out. If, wrapped in each other’s arms behind a dumpster at the county fair, maybe they should’ve been more careful.
It was Steve’s fault. 
At the end of the day, Billy may think he’s Frankenstein’s monster but really, he’s the bird with shattered wings and Steve’s the asshole driving over it, so.
When Billy shoulders his way into the house. When he pauses, eyes glued to the skylight and the midnight galaxy beyond that, and says, “Looks just like I remember,” before he removes his jacket, wincing in a way that has Steve feeling like he just got stabbed with something short and dull, it gives Steve hope.
Hope that they can fix this. That Steve can patch it up just like he used to, tucking Billy into the bath, soapy water warming his chest until he’s not angry anymore. 
Steve doesn’t want to be angry anymore.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” He tries, and follows Billy down the hall to the bathroom, where he strips down to his boxers and plops, gingerly, on the edge of the toilet without having to be told.
They go through the motions.
Steve pokes and prods, slathering Neosporin over cuts and scrapes, even the ones Billy insists don’t hurt. He cleans the wounds, anyway. He tapes the knuckles. Says, “You got your ass kicked, Hargrove,” Chest filling with hymnals and shaking, crushing explosions when Billy smiles. 
It’s small. Almost non-existent, but.
It’s there. 
Steve winds Billy’s hair into a bun and runs him a bath. Without having to be told. And Billy strips naked, slipping into the water, without having to be told. 
But Steve has to be told. Asked. “Will you sit with me?”
“What?”
“I don’t want to be alone,” Billy sounds scared. Working hard to buff nerves from the atmosphere when he clears his throat and asks, “Will you get in with me.”
Steve turns, his hand still on the doorknob. He keeps his eyes on Billy’s face, on his lips, where they’ve started to turn purple on the left corner, no matter how much he wants to look. To see and touch--
“Whatever, stupid to even ask,” 
Billy’s eyes close like doors. His arms stretch and grip onto either side of the tub so he can lean back, eyes slipping closed so he doesn’t see the way Steve vibrates all over. The way his hands shake, pulling his shirt over his head. Unbuckling his pants. He steps into the water, refusing to meet Billy’s eyes as the bubbles close around them.
Steve clears his throat, ready to cut his heart open and apologize, nearly dying on the spot when Billy beats him to it.
“I fucked everything up.” Billy gasps.
And.
Steve wishes he could say it's awkward.
That he’s not hard, with the water scorching every inch of him, and Billy’s swampy, wet eyes pinning him in place, but.
He’s choking on want. On desperation and love. “Billy--”
Billy shakes his head, refusing to listen. “I just. With Neil--”
“--I know--”
“--I’m afraid, Steve.” Billy blinks, pinprick tears sliding down the swell of his cheeks. His knuckles turn white on the tub, grip so firm Steve worries for Billy’s split skin and fresh bandages. “I was so afraid when he brought it up that I ruined everything, and--”
Steve shushes him, wading forward a little, until he slots himself between Billy’s legs. 
“I don’t want anything to happen to you,” Billy tells him, sitting up. “I never want anything to happen to you, so I let you go. And then tonight, when you were wrapped in that loser’s arms, laughing at his fucking jokes--”
Steve wants to say that the loser means nothing to him. Could never mean anything to him, when he’s got Billy in his life like this--
“But it was my fault, Steve. Everything’s been my fault for so long and I treated you like shit because I was scared to death that something would happen. I pushed you away and now--”
“I love you,” Steve tells him. 
Because it’s all he can manage to say. Because it’s simple and easy and in the end, love’s gonna win out.
Steve won’t accept anything else.
But wherever Billy is, whatever he’s been sword fighting, tears staining his pillow every night for three months in a house Steve could never reach him, is putting on a hell of a performance.
“No,” Billy says bluntly.
“Baby.”
“No,” Billy says again, “Don’t say that. I’m shit. I’m scum, Steve, I’m--”
“I love you,” Steve shrugs. Billy’s eyes search his face, tears frozen and stuck to his flashes like unearthed diamonds. 
Steve takes a deep breath. Prepares for war. “What happened wasn’t your fault.” He begins, ready to slay the dragon, but.
Billy bares his teeth. Digs his heels in. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, I do.” Steve insists. He wants to touch Billy. Wants to haul him to his chest and lock him there forever.
Not now.
Not yet.
“You don’t deserve what happened and what happened, Billy--” Steve takes his shoulders, soapy hands moving to hold Billy’s cheeks until Billy looks at him. “That wasn’t you fault.”
Billy’s crying now, hunched forward so Steve as to submerge his chest in water, ducking to get those baby blues back where they belong.
Billy rattles, letting Steve’s hands gentle his cheeks, catching his tears and setting them free like wishes. Dreams. Steve presses a kiss, delicate as pressed flowers, to Billy’s forehead.
And both cheeks.
And each corner of his mouth, smearing his chin in a slow, sloppy kiss until Billy cracks open.
“I’m sorry,” He gasps, finally, finally, wrapping his arms around Steve’s neck and pulling him close.. “I’m sorry, Steve, so fucking sorry--”
“I love you, Billy. I’ll tell you everyday, ever morning and before bed, cradling you in my arms, until you believe me,” Steve tells the dragon.
You’re cast out. There are no more shadowy corners to come home to.
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frankthesnek · 1 month
Note
Hello can I get soft kiss 7 for Stony?
Okay, okay so all the other kiss prompt fills have been soft and fluffy and cute. This one gave me angst vibes. I hope thats okay 💕
Come Home Again
Rated G
Prompt: sharing a kiss after not seeing eachother for an extended period of time
750 words
The room was dark when Tony opened his eyes, a dull depthless darkness that was a far cry different from the mystical and star spotted blackness he'd been surrounded by in space.
Right… he was back.
Thinking was normally an easy task for Tony, but recalling the events that led him here was difficult and physically taxing. He remembered landing, remembered clinging to Nebula and limping down the ramp, remembered—
“Steve?” The word was horse and croaking as it left his lips. Steve's hands on his arm and shoulder, too tight and almost painful on his depleted worn out body, the solid heat at his side as Steve had helped him inside—that he remembered, but in a too good to be true dreamy way he wasn't sure he should believe.
“Tony?"
The sound of his name was startling, and Tony flinched harshly before sluggishly turning his head to find Steve sitting off to the side of his bed. His face was shadowed, the plains and angles of it illuminated gently by the subtle glow of the nano tech arc. Why did Steve have it?
“I'm sorry for pushing you like that,” Steve's words were hollow, his eyes downcast to the reactor.
Oh.
Tony closed his eyes against the returning memory. Steve’s questions, his own lunatic ramblings as he fell apart. They had ended on fighting so long ago and wound up the same way this time around. The cold of Siberia seemed better than the chemical fresh chill of the medical bay. He had been left alone and cold and broken hearted back then, but at least his spirit had still been intact. It felt like now he'd lost even that.
“It's fine,” Tony mumbled back softly, opening his eyes to find Steve now looking at him. The reactor's light was obscured by Steve's large palm curling around it, the duller lighting making his face look dark and sad.
“It was selfish,” the other man countered. “I shouldn't have—”
“No. No, no, nonono,” the word tumbled out of Tony in a weak and droning mantra, forcing Steve into silence. Tony went quiet too. Breathing and collecting his thoughts, chasing them like scared animals hiding in the fog of his brain. So much had happened, so much had gone wrong. He didn't want this with Steve. Couldn't handle it—not now. Later, later, there would be time for talking and healing and explanations. All the things they had destroyed and that had been lost between them—it wouldn't, couldn't be forgotten but right now, none of it mattered.
“I don't want to argue. I don't want to fight. I'm done fighting. We lost. We lost so much,” the words were fucking bitter—sharp and painful in his too tight dry throat.
“Tony,” Steve stood and moved to the edge of the bed, placing the reactor on the sheets. Its calming blue a bright contrast to the bland white of them.
“I don't care right now about all of our fuck ups—not yours, not mine. Steve, I just wanna come home.” Tony didn't realize the words had brought him to tears until Steve's palm settled over his cheek. Cupping gently like so many times in the past. Tony turned his face into the contact. “I wanna go home,” softer this time, the words spoken into the battle calloused skin of Steve's palm.
“You are home, honey,” Steve said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “You’re home.”
When Steve leaned down over him, the moment felt too long and drawn out. The few seconds it took for Steve's lips to meet his a back breaking straw on top of all the time they had been apart—all the touches they had robbed themselves of.
Tony pressed back simply, not having the energy for more than the firm contact of a couple grounding pecks. Steve lingered, like he always did. His soft mouth brushed tenderly along Tony's jaw, and he felt his stubble catch against the supple softness of the other man's lips.
“You're home now. Get some rest,” Steve whispered into his cheek.
Tony closed his eyes again, barely registering the dip and shift in the bed, already fading back into exhausted sleep. It was only when he heard the steady thump under his ear that he realized Steve had laid down with him; had shifted them so Tony was curled atop him, head pillowed on Steve's powerful chest.
He was home. It was a broken home—cracked picture frames, and unmade beds, and cobweb filled closets—but the foundation was still there. Strong and sturdy, and everything he needed.
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Note
"I'd say my absolute favorites are Wilmon getting back together after years apart with a lot of angst, and Wilmon are adorably oblivious idiots."
Same! Would you happen to have recs, please?
Yes! I'm sure I've missed some great ones, but here are the ones I found in my bookmarks. These are all chaptered fics. They're SO GOOD:
Getting back together with angst:
In Another Life by @ungaroyals
summer of love by @ungaroyals
We Left Footprints When We Passed By by @in-amor-veritas
all the places we've been by @in-amor-veritas
Everybody Loves You Now by @im-a-king-baby
It's really good to hear your voice sayin' my name by @girls-are-weird
The road not taken looks real good now by @stretchoutfics
Faroe Gone by @groenendaelfic (WIP)
Idiots in love:
did you see the love in my eyes, oh were you gazing through this disguise? by @tooindecisivetopickaurl
Get in loser, we're going camping by @piebingo (WIP)
only fools remain sane by @ishotforthestars
i hate accidents except when we went from friends to this by @cloudywilmon
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steddieas-shegoes · 3 months
Text
crawling out
for @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘hole’
rated m | 404 words
cw: mention of addiction (nothing specific or detailed), mention of rehab, break-up | tags: rock star Eddie Munson, making amends, angst with a hopeful/happy ending, hurt/comfort, getting back together
- - - - - - - - - -
“Keep digging the hole for yourself. Eventually, no one will find you.”
Those were the last words Steve had said to him over a year ago.
They were in the middle of tour, their first headlining one, and Steve had been antsy. Eddie was picking fights with him for no god damn reason.
Steve got sick of it.
Steve left.
The band finished that tour, Eddie went on a bender and nearly died, and the band took a break.
- - -
Rehab sucked. Not because of the withdrawals; Those weren’t all that bad compared to some of the horror stories he’d heard. He was alone.
And being alone was what got him there in the first place.
Steve warned him he’d be alone the further into this hole he put himself and he was right.
- - -
But it’s been months since rehab, months since he felt the urge to bury himself in the hole he dug for himself, months since he started clawing his way out.
He’d spent the first month with Wayne, who welcomed him with open arms the way he always did.
The second month was spent traveling to see all the kids, apologize to them for everything.
All of them had quickly sided with Steve, rightfully so, and he’d barely heard from them after…well, after. They all accepted his apologies, wanted to start working towards friendship again.
Next was a trip back to California to visit the band, who all stuck around to help out in the studio and write songs for others while they figured out what they wanted to do. They all loved him, told him so in the way they looked proud to see him standing outside of the hole he dug.
Now, standing outside the apartment Steve shared with Robin, he had the strong urge to jump back into the hole.
“Just knock,” he said to himself.
He lifted his hand.
The door swung open.
Steve stood there, just as beautiful and perfect as the day he left Eddie, frowning.
He looked him up and down, took in how he’d changed, put on a little bit of weight, trimmed his hair to his shoulders, got a new tattoo.
The date Steve left.
Steve’s eyes locked on his.
“You still digging that hole?”
“No. Filling it in actually. My arms got tired.”
Steve bit his lip, the telltale sign he was hiding a laugh.
“Need help?”
Eddie smiled. “Couldn’t hurt, sweetheart.”
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hairmetal666 · 1 year
Text
cw// cancer mentioned, no character death
Eddie's moving to Chicago with his boyfriend and their best friend.
Eddie's moving to Chicago and it feels like everything is finally coming together.
Eddie's moving to Chicago, Steve Harrington is his boyfriend, and his life is starting.
Eddie's moving to Chicago, but then Wayne gets sick.
He tells Steve that he can't leave, not yet, needs to take care of his uncle.
And Steve, his Steve, perfect Steve, says with no hesitation, "I'll stay. Eddie, I'll stay with you. We'll go in six months. Together, that's the plan."
But Eddie can't let Steve do that; Steve who is everything bright and good and right in the world. Steve needs to get out, even if Eddie can't.
He insists Steve go, insists so hard that Steve can only agree, though Eddie can tell it's killing him.
Before they leave, Steve and Eddie cling to each other.
"Six months, baby. Just six months and then I'll be with you."
"I'll stay, Eds. Let me stay for you?"
"Not in a million years. What's six months in a lifetime together?"
"You mean that?" Steve whispers, the words tickling against Eddie's neck.
"Of course, sweetheart. Never meant anything more in my life."
They cling harder, crying against each other, despite it being goodbye for now and not forever.
They haven't said "I love you" yet, and the words hang on his tongue as the embrace ends, but he can't say it now; not when six months of time and 200-plus miles will separate them.
Except Wayne isn't better in six months. He's not worse, but the cancer's still there, he's still sick. And Eddie can't leave.
Eddie figured something like this would happen. Knew in the back of his mind that Steve and Robin and Chicago were never anything but a pipe dream.
When he calls Steve, he thinks he's ready.
"Okay, so Hopper's letting us borrow his truck, but he needs to know our timeline. You think next Saturday--"
"Steve." He says. His stomach clenches.
"What's wrong?" Because Steve knows, like he always does.
"Wayne's not better."
Steve is silent for a beat. "Okay...that's okay. I'll come back. Right now. Tonight. We'll do this tog--"
"You know I can't let you do that."
"Eddie--"
"No, Steve, don't. Okay? Let's just. It's time, you know?"
"It's not. Eddie, it isn't. Don't do this. Please, please," Steve cries.
"It's for the best. I know you can't see it now, but it is. You need to live your life, Stevie. Get that degree. Be someone."
"Eddie," Steve sobs. "Please. You have to know that I lo--"
"Don't," Eddie snarls. Doesn't mean to but can't hear those words, the three that will break him in two. "This is for the best, Steve. A clean break, yeah?"
"No." And Eddie hears Steve shuffling on the other end, like he's getting up. "I'm not letting you do this. I'm coming back, and we're doing this together. A lifetime, remember?"
Eddie's crying now, can't help it. "Please, don't. Steve, just--it's over, okay? I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I can't do this anymore."
He hangs up the phone before Steve can argue, cries himself to sleep.
5 Years Later
Eddie never gets over Steve Harrington. His golden boy, the brave, perfect, kind, bratty man who has his whole heart.
Wayne is okay. Will never not have cancer, but he's doing good. And Eddie runs a record store in the town over. Visits some bars in Indy when he feels a certain kind of lonely. He's settled, finally, is the thing. He's settled and happy enough, so of course, that's when it happens.
He's at the grocery store, stopped in produce. There's a little girl, maybe 3 or 4--bright pink shirt, chestnut hair, little overalls--sitting in a cart by the tomatoes.
The sight of her sparks something in Eddie's chest, but he doesn't understand what or why, and then she's pointing at him, smiling and wiggling. "Daddy!" She shrieks.
That's when Steve Harrington swoops around the corner, reaching for the girl, his daughter, and Eddie takes a step away, ready to run from this.
The girls says, "That's the boy in all your pictures." She giggles and points at Eddie more. Steve blushes, and Eddie's assaulted by so many things all at once he thinks he may pass out.
"Stevie," he hears himself saying.
Steve freezes, looks at Eddie, so much knowing in those hazel eyes it makes him a little sick. But it still surprises him when Steve pulls him into a hug. Being in those arms again, It's like everything keeping him together falls apart. He sinks into the hold, breathes in deep, feels like home.
It shouldn't, though. Steve's got a kid. Probably a wife. Can't have his ex-boyfriend falling apart in his arms in the grocery store. Eddie disengages, steps back a little. Steve blinks, eyelashes fluttering, and Eddie is still so in love with him it hurts.
"I should--I should go," he mumbles, gripping at the back of his neck like it's a lifeline. The little girl giggles more, bouncing in her seat, and he's overcome with fondness. Can't help but give her an exaggerated bow as he goes.
He makes himself walk to the end of the aisle, but once he's left Steve behind, he runs.
That night, when a knock comes at his door, nothing prepares him for a sheepish Steve Harrington standing on the other side.
"Sorry to drop by unannounced," Steve says, manners still impeccable. "Wayne gave me your address. I'm glad--I'm glad he's doing okay, Eddie."
Eddie's too astonished to respond, nods for a few seconds before, "Th-thanks. Uhh, you wanna come in?"
Steve does and then they're in Eddie's little living room together and what the fuck is he supposed to do?
"Where's the kid?" he asks. He gestures Steve to the couch.
Steve smiles, a soft thing that's a knife to Eddie's heart. "Oh, I left her with Robin. They'll be fine for a few hours. Her name's Ellie, by the way. Ellie Jane Harrington."
"She knows who I am?" Eddie asks.
"Course. I told her about everyone. Showed her pictures. I hoped she could meet you one day."
"Yeah?" Eddie can't stand the thing that unfurls in his chest, blooming with love, so much care it aches in his teeth. "I swear next time I won't run away."
Steve laughs, hazel eyes fond in a way that Eddie can't look at for too long. "You didn't run away, Eds. It was a weird--reunion."
Eddie chuckles, pulls hair over his face. "A little bit. Not every day you run into your ex and his daughter scoping out tomatoes."
"I was hoping to give you a call, ask you out to dinner, or something. Not my kid recognizing you at Bradley's Big Buy."
"You wanna take me out to dinner, Stevie?" He asks before he can think better of it. Steve blushes red, and god Eddie missed him.
"Thought it might be nice, yeah. Get to know each other again."
It's Eddie turn to blush. "Why are you here?" He asks, good of a segue as any.
"Here, like, in your apartment, or here in Hawkins?"
"Both."
"I'm--uh--the new counselor at Hawkins High. Might coach the basketball team."
"But--Chicago," is all Eddie can say.
Steve laughs. "It was fun for a while, but--I don't know, man, it got hard with a kid. Joyce told me about the job opening and I decided to try."
"And Ellie's mom?" Eddie doesn't want to ask, can't stand not knowing.
Steve's eyes fall. "Ah," his hands squeeze into fists. "She's not in the picture. Never really was. After--" he takes a deep breath. "After we broke up, I sort of. Lost myself for awhile. Slept around. One night, I got this call saying that a baby had been surrendered at a fire station, my name listed as the father."
"Oh, sweetheart. I bet you didn't hesitate."
Steve stares at his hands, smiles. "Not for a second. I cried when I saw her, Eds. Just fucking sobbed. She was so beautiful. Then I had to figure out how to raise a kid and finish school."
"But you did it." Eddie can't hide that he's crying anymore.
Steve nods, is crying too.
"I'm really proud of you, sweetheart," Eddie whispers.
They look at each other, tear stained and sad but somehow so happy, and Steve leans forward, presses his mouth to Eddie's. He freezes, shocked to stillness, overwhelmed with the thing he never thought he'd have again.
Steve pulls back, face red and eyes wide. "I'm so sorry. I got it in my head--" he stands, fumbling for his keys. "I should have never--you told me we were done and I know you meant it. But I saw you in the grocery store and I thought, you know, I'm never getting over him. I'm so stup--"
"Steve, wait" Eddie snaps out of it all at once, hurrying to where the man he's never stopped loving is shoving his feet inexpertly into his shoes.
"Don't leave," he says, almost whispering. "Please don't leave. Steve, I'm so, so sorry for how I ended things. I was so young and stupid, and--I didn't want you to lose your dreams for me."
Steve turns then, tears trickling down his cheeks. "You were my dream, Eds. You still are. I should have come back, made you let me stay. But I thought--maybe your feelings had changed. That you didn't--that you weren't--"
Eddie can't help it, pulls Steve into his arms. "I was. I am. You're all I've ever wanted." He presses his face to Steve's hair, breathes in deep. "I loved you then. I love you now. I've loved you every day in between."
"I love you," Steve sobs. "I love you so much."
They kiss, lips slotting together like they never stopped. It's salty with tears, but it's perfect. It's them.
Their mouths part, but they stay in each other's orbit; need the proximity after years apart.
"I have a kid now, Eddie," Steve says into the silence between them.
"Yeah," Eddie nods. "She's beautiful. Looks like her dad."
Steve smiles, flushes again. "She needs stability in her life, you know? She's my priority. Always will be. And if I--if this--"
Eddie knows. Understands his boy just as well now as he did back then. "We'll take it as slow as you need, baby. I want to be there for both of you. When you're ready. And until then, I'll be wherever you need me."
More tears escape Steve's eyes, but Eddie brushes them away. "We have a lifetime to figure it out."
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atths--twice · 6 months
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Never Too Late
I absolutely loved this one. Hope you do too. 💓
Fictober day 7. Prompt- It's not too late, let's go.
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Scully yawned beside him for the third time in ten minutes, which of course triggered his own yawn though he fought it. 
“I’m so tired,” she said, her voice scratchy with sleep. Or lack thereof. 
They had been out of town for nearly a week, sleep becoming a luxury by the second night, the case demanding more from them. 
But they were home now and had the next two days off to finish paperwork and get some much needed rest. 
“I can’t stop yawning,” she said, her hand covering her mouth. “Are you okay?” 
“Yeah, I’m good,” he said just as a large yawn overtook him and she gave him a look. “Promise. It’s just because you yawned.”
“I’m sorry,” she said as she yawned. “God, I can’t seem to stop.” 
“Well, we’re almost to your place and you can get some sleep.”
“I’m going to eat something first. I’m so hungry. And I have to take a shower. I feel so disgusting.” 
“Okay, then after all that,” he said with a laugh. “I promise I won’t even call you tomorrow to bother you about anything.”
“I’ll believe that when it happens.” She smiled at him and then frowned. “Oh no. I just remembered that I don’t have anything to eat at my apartment. Ohhh, I can’t believe this.”
“Do you want to stop and get something?”
“No. It’s late and you still have to drive to your place. I don’t want to do that to you.” 
“Come on, Scully. I know we haven’t known each other too long, but I thought by now you’d know I’m a bit of a night owl. It’s not too late, let’s go get something. We could do drive-thru and you could take it home. I really don’t mind.”
“Pancakes sound really good. And hot chocolate. There’s that coffee shop on third street that’s open all night. I’ll buy.” She looked at him, tilting her head as she smiled. He nodded and made a right at the next light. 
And thus a tradition was born, though they did not know it at the time. 
All they knew was that they were hungry and pancakes at nearly one in the morning hit differently than they do any other time. And hot chocolate, even when it is muggy and hot out, does something to make the world seem like a completely different place. 
Those times when they ate at that coffee shop, sometimes so punch drunk that Scully got the giggles, meant more than they could have foreseen. 
___________
He gave her a key to his apartment there, on a rainy Saturday morning, her eyes asking him silent questions. 
“Considering the cases we investigate, the risks involved, I thought…” He shrugged and she nodded, turning it over in her fingers. 
“It’s a good idea,” she agreed. 
“And if you ever can’t sleep and need someone to join you in your insomnia, feel free to stop by,” he teased and she smiled as she added his key to her key ring. 
________
She told him about her father, coming back from a case nearly two months after he had died. 
“He was tough to get along with at times, especially as I got older and my interests changed. We… we fought sometimes and he didn’t always understand my reasoning for what I wanted to do with my life.” 
“I think that’s most parents,” he offered, stirring his coffee absentmindedly. 
“Yeah,” she whispered, with a nod as she tore up a napkin into small pieces. “I just wish I could talk to him, ask him if… if he’s proud of me.” She whimpered and tried to hide her tears. 
“How could he not be proud of you, Scully?” he asked, handing her his extra napkin. She nodded as she kept her head bowed and dried her eyes. 
_________
“Can you meet me?” she asked, calling him late at night. 
“I’ll be there.” 
She was already in a booth when he arrived. A plate of food and a cup of coffee sat on the table, but both appeared untouched. 
“You okay?” he asked as he sat down. 
“I can’t sleep,” she whispered, her head bowed. “I keep seeing him. Feeling him on me. Hearing him…” 
Donnie Pfaster. 
Mulder clenched his jaw and fists simultaneously as he thought about him. 
“I can’t sleep,” she said again, her chin quivering. 
“What can I do to help?” 
“Sit here with me?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with tears when she looked at him. 
“As long as you want,” he said softly and she nodded as she attempted to hold back her tears, breathing deeply and wiping her eyes. 
___________
On a Sunday, he waited for her to join him after Mass. To his surprise, her mother came along, smiling as she sat down, inquiring as to how he was doing. 
He looked at Scully, wondering if she had told her mother about the recent case with John Lee Roche. She held his gaze and shook her head slightly, their thoughts once again similar. He exhaled a breath of relief and smiled at Mrs. Scully. 
“I’m doing alright. How are you?” 
And for fifteen minutes, she spoke of Bill Junior and Tara who were expecting their first child, her friends at church, and where Charlie was currently stationed. 
He nodded and added words when needed, but mostly he sat and listened. Scully’s hand found his under the table and she gave it a gentle squeeze before she asked questions, carrying the conversation and giving him the space to decide how to proceed. 
________
He brought her pancakes from the coffee shop after she came home from the hospital, her cancer in remission. He did not expect her to eat much, but the gesture was what mattered most. 
“Orange juice too,” she said, smiling tiredly as he took everything out of the bag. “And bacon.” 
“Didn’t know what you’d be in the mood for, but I wanted you to have something.” 
“Thank you,” she said. “I appreciate it, I do, but I’m not hungry right now. I just want to sleep.” 
“Understandable,” he said, nodding his head and putting the containers into the refrigerator. 
“I’ll have a little of the orange juice, but everything else can wait.” 
He handed the to-go cup to her and she took three small sips before handing it back to him. 
“Thank you,” she whispered, touching his arm and walking to her bedroom. 
__________
“So, everyone is at your mom’s?” he asked, shaking salt onto his eggs. “Even Charlie, the elusive Scully?” 
“He says he will be,” she said, smiling as she looked at the new watch Mulder had given her for Christmas. “I’ve got three and a half hours.” 
“See? It’s never too late to be here. You’ve got plenty of time,” he said with a grin, offering her the syrup which she declined. 
“If I head over after we eat, I can sleep for a bit.” 
“And no one will be the wiser that you spent Christmas Eve in a haunted house.” 
“Especially as I won’t be offering any information about such a thing,” she said, stealing his cup of fruit and adding it to her plate. 
“You don’t think Bill would approve?” 
She tossed her straw wrapper at him and he laughed. 
__________
“Well, it’s a few days later than you probably would have liked and it’s definitely past sunset,” he said as they entered the coffee shop. “But knowing Richie and Henry are alright is worth the later hour.” 
“Yeah,” she agreed, sitting down in what they have long since considered to be their booth. 
“And while it’s not a five star place, it’s…” 
“I’ve always felt that five star places are overrated,” she said, and he smiled. 
“I agree,” he said with a nod. 
“Besides, it’s the company that’s important.” 
“In agreement once again,” he said. 
He laid his hand on the table and she looked over her shoulder quickly, before placing her hand on top of it. Holding it, he gently ran his thumb across her knuckles as they both drew in a deep breath and smiled. 
___________
It was her turn to bring food from the coffee shop. 
She woke him with a kiss, her fingers gently running along his cheeks and jaw. Jet lagged from his two days in England, it took him a few seconds to open his eyes. 
“Hey,” she whispered, kissing him again. “I have to get home to change for work, but I brought some breakfast.” 
“Mmm. No work, come back to bed instead,” he said, putting his arms around her and pulling her on top of him. 
She laughed, laying her head on his chest, as he closed his eyes and began to comb his fingers through her hair. 
“There’s coffee, orange juice, egg white omelets-” He groaned and she laughed. “Plus some pancakes.” He hummed his approval, kissing the top of her head. “But I do have to leave soon, so if you want to join me, you need to get your ass out of bed.” 
“You’re hindering me, what with your body draped across mine.” 
“And whose fault is that?” she asked, beginning to rise off of him and he groaned his protest once again. “Come on, get up.” 
He ate bare chested, clad in only his pajama bottoms, and his hair sleep tousled. But she could not seem to keep her eyes off of him, watching him and not eating much of her own food. 
When he walked her to the door, she turned around and stared up at him. 
“I was unsure what I wanted, where this…” She gestured between them and sighed. “I wasn’t sure where it was going and what it all meant. But being apart from you these past couple of days… I know now.” 
“What do you know?” he asked, stepping closer, but not touching her. 
“I love you,” she said softly, but firmly. “I have in many ways for a long time, but this…” She gestured again and smiled. “I know what this is and I know what I want.”
“Good,” he said, just as softly. She nodded and scrunched her chin, smiling again. “It’s me, right? You want me?” 
“Mulder,” she laughed, shaking her head as he pulled her to him with a smile.
“It’s you, Scully,” he whispered into her hair. “My one in five billion. My one constant in this crazy world.” He pulled back and held her face in his hands, his thumbs stroking her cheeks. “I love you too.” 
____________
“You know what sounds really good?” she asked, her feet in his lap. He looked up, watching her rub her pregnant belly, and he smiled. 
“What’s that?” he asked, rubbing a particularly tender spot on her foot if the groan she let out was any indication. 
“French toast, hot chocolate, and tomato slices.” She hummed as she rubbed her belly again. 
He grimaced at the combination of items she listed, but after watching her recently eat peanut butter on cucumbers, he had learned to keep his mouth shut. 
“I could make you something,” he offered, but she sighed sadly as she shook her head. 
“I don’t have any tomatoes.” 
“Well, let’s go get you those tomatoes,” he said, moving her feet and standing up. 
“Mulder, no. It's late,” she protested, but would not hear it. 
“It’s not too late. Let’s go.” 
“I’m not dressed,” she whined as he helped her to her feet. 
“You look beautiful. You’re glowing,” he said, and she gave him a look. “I promise, you look great. I’ll get your shoes.” Kissing her quickly, he hurried to her bedroom to grab what she would need. 
When she took a bite of the tomatoes, her eyes closing as she hummed in satisfaction, he grinned. 
“Worth it?” he asked and she nodded, humming again. 
_____________
He saw her in their booth, though it had been many years since they had been to the coffee shop. Looking at something on her phone, she did not see him until he was standing beside the table. 
“Hey,” he said softly, sitting down across from her. “Place looks different, but the same.” 
“Yeah,” she agreed, putting her phone face down and sighing as she looked around. “When I drove past it the other day, I was surprised to see it was still here. So many other places have changed. But I suppose that’s life… you can’t stop it from going on around you.” 
“Yeah,” he agreed, thinking of all they had been through over the years. 
How many memories did this booth hold? How many meals had they eaten and how many discussions were had? 
“Things are different,” she said, looking at him. “But still the same.” He nodded, knowing what she meant. “I’d like to… come here again. To…” She ran her fingers across the tabletop and then looked at him again. “To come back to what we knew. To… try again?” 
He smiled, nodding slowly.
“I’d like that.” 
“It’s not too late, right?” she asked, reaching her hand out to him, tears in her eyes. 
“Never,” he said, taking her hand and running his thumb across her knuckles. “It’s never too late.” 
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owl-of-fandom · 10 months
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written for @drarrymicrofic prompt: save your tears
no warnings | wc: 639
Draco looks over at Harry, sitting at a booth with his friends, throwing his head back and laughing loudly.
He looks so happy like that. Without Draco.
Draco drains his drink. He can’t stand to see what he could’ve had, but now never will.
The door of the pub barely closed, before it’s being pushed open again.
“Draco, wait.”
He almost doesn’t believe it, but as he turns around, yes, there’s Harry, standing in the open doorway. The light from inside the pub illuminates him from behind like a halo.
“Don’t just fuck off again!” He comes a step closer, letting the door fall shut behind him. The noise from the inside is drowned out as they’re alone for the first time in weeks.
“Harry … I –”
“No! It’s always about you.” Harry crowds into his space. His eyes are ablaze, green and piercing. And … wet?
“Do you even care that you broke my heart? That you keep breaking it whenever you walk away without even saying hello?”
“Harry …” Tears spill down Harry’s cheeks. Don’t cry, please. Draco swallows the words.
He can’t stand to look at Harry’s face, so he speaks directed at his shoulder instead.
“I keep running into you and it makes me crazy to see how happy you look, how happy you are, without me. But I get it. I’m too late,” he laughs without humour. “Of course you won’t love me for a second time. And you shouldn’t. You deserve someone better than me.”
The collar of Harry’s jean jacket is inside out. He must have hastily put it on and rushed after Draco. It looks sloppy and messy and so endearingly Harry, Draco’s heart skips a beat.
“Why?”
“Hm?” Finally Draco looks back up but Harry’s eyes are closed, his cheeks wet, lashes glistening with tears.
“Why did you run away?” Harry asks very quietly.
“I don’t know,” Draco whispers. Harry’s eyes flash open and he looks pointedly at Draco.
“Don’t lie to me!” He’s right. Stop lying, Draco.
“No, really. I don’t know why I ran away. I knew it would make you sad and possibly cry and I hate making you cry. And it’s not like I stopped loving you. I just,” he sighs deeply and slows down a little. “Everything was becoming so real. And –”
“You didn’t want it to be real,” Harry interrupts meekly.
“No! I … I did. I do. I just.” He sighs. This is it. “I was afraid it’d be too much for you. That I’d be too much.” He swallows. He can’t bear to look at Harry any longer. He’s just not ready for the emotions he’s sure he’ll find there. The understanding, the disgust, the pity. The knowing, that eventually Draco will be too much. He always is.
Oh well, time to go home and cry into a pillow. Again.
“I won’t keep you any longer,” Draco says to Harry’s trainers.
But he doesn’t get far.
A strong hand clasps around his wrist and holds him back.
“Harry, I –” but he’s interrupted by soft lips on his. Which is good, because he has no idea what he was going to say, and there is no way he is protesting this.
The kiss is short and sweet. It feels like coming home.
Somehow, after only a few seconds, Draco feels week in the knees. He’s sure they’d buckle under him if Harry’s capable hands didn’t hold him in place.
He’s panting slightly when they pull apart.
“Does that mean you take me back?” he asks breathlessly.
“Only if you promise to stay this time.” Harry smiles and although his voice is teasing, there’s something new in his green eyes. A new vulnerability. With a pang Draco realises, he’s scared.
“Yes. Yes, I want to stay.” And this time, he does.
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evax3 · 9 months
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JON SNOW x DAENERYS TARGARYEN | THE VOW – REMIX | CHAPTER 5/8
Something Infinite
He lowers his drink again and raises his brows. “Huh?” His eyes shift away from the football game and over to Sam, then to Tormund, who stopped filling the fridge beneath the bar but looks back at him now with a hard stare that says enough. “Is this an intervention?” “It's more than that,” Tormund corrects him. “It’s your wake-up call, mate.”
READ THE FULL CHAPTER HERE
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