#why didn't you tell el you stopped calling?...

[maddy-ferguson]

im tired of ppl using headcanon stuff as proofs on the show. ''mike never stopped calling will.'' yeah no, that is not canon at all, lmao. you guys just took dustin's words and used it as some sort of a canon thing to prove that mike called. c'mon guys... canonically it doesnt make much sense anyways bc it doesnt fit. because mike learned abt joyce's job at the beginning of the season after el sent her letter. unless the duffers just made a mistake and screwed the time, it doesn't make any sense for mike to have called will constantly or 'complaining' due to joyce's job when he just learned abt joyce's job at the beginning of the season after reading el's letters. for all we know mike didnt send any letters to will, and they just only talked for a couple of times. like. that's the canon. we cannot just take something and treat it as canon and come up with criticism based on that. same as the 'lettergate' situation, for all we know mike just didnt bother writing and he didnt have a present. also u cannot really blame will either. for all he knew, the situation was just a repeat of S3. and we know what happened in S3. just a casual 'what if u wanna join another party' doesn't fix the issue at hand, and it literally didnt either. so.

okay, yes, this is what i was saying in the tags of this and what this post i reblogged earlier is about!!! you can't just say "mike 100% called and we don't even know if will called so will is equally to blame for the fact that they didn't keep in touch/for their rink o mania fight". i mean you can but i'll disagree every time because there's this little thing that happened between them that never got resolved that totally explains why will would be hesitant to reach out...who out of the two of them was rebuffed the last time he tried to show that this friendship was important to him? who was crying in the rain and calling himself stupid over it? as a very wise woman once said, i would've wanted mike to make a little bit of an effort too after that tf

and the thing is, if it turns out mike didn't call/doesn't have any unsent letters i'm not gonna be mad at him? they both have reasons for not reaching out. people being more forgiving of will probably has to do with the fact that his reasons are you know. not speculation

as for the technicalities surrounding the theory, the job part of it just doesn't add up to me like i...have spent a very long time thinking about it, it's april and i still don't get it. and as people have pointed out el can't use the phone and there's a walkie talkie in her room and all that but yk. idk. and i like lettergate and i like mikeactuallycalledgate but at the end of the day they're just theories you know

#either way i don't get the job thing because dustin says mike won't stop whining about it like he's been whining for some time which #means that el's letter is old (which i guess it could be) or that like...mike already knew about joyce's job before reading the letter? #like if he just learned about the job in ep 1 why won't he stop whining about it. is it a hyperbole. idk i don't get it. #my second paragraph isn't me doubting byler or like denying the fact that mike is OBVIOUSLY going through something too like i said they #both have reasons to not reach out. it's just that you can't exactly blame people for being biased when one's reasons are...out there #and the other's are: not. i know we're on byler tumblr and a lot of things are known to everyone but like do you see what i'm getting at? #one thing i'll give you is that trying to force your friends to play with you when they obviously couldn't give less of a fuck is...not #a very good strategy and also it was hurtful too when my friends didn't care about my crush of the week in middle school. i personally #never told them to grow up and accidentally called them gay over it though lol! #and i've also been will with the getting your friends to do something they don't care about i've told this story before when i was 12 my #friends literally WROTE ME A LETTER (they wouldn't even say it to my face!!!! they gave it to me and i was like what is this and they were #like uhjustwaitforustoleavewellseeyouonmondaybye and left before i could read) telling me to stop talking about one direction. and i didn't #even talk about them that much because i knew they only liked them a little while i was a Directioner. i never talked about them again #after that lolll #see how i did something for the will is always 100% in the right allegations #ask

[fxllfaiiry]

─ you're the sunflower ੈ✩‧₊˚

✶ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader

✶ synopsis: everyone on the team loves you, expect miguel who seems to hate you more than anyone.

✶ warnings: angst!! major angst. sunshine!reader x grumpy!miguel. reader is nicknamed sunflower, mentions of death.

✶ notes: there's one spanish sentence in this, I'm not good with spanish so if I've made a mistake please tell me so i can fix it! part two is already up!!!

Everyone on the team loved you from the moment you joined, everyone, except Miguel. 

You knew Miguel was cold towards everyone, but he was extra cold with you. Maybe it was because of how different your personalities were. 

You were the embodiment of sunshine, always positive in any situation, putting others before yourself. Hence why everyone calls you sunflower, it fits perfectly, Miles was proud of coming up with it. 

Miguel on the other hand was cold and distant but that didn't stop you from trying to get him to open up. You'd try to have simple conversations with him but nothing, all you would receive in reply was an eye roll or a slight grunt, but you wouldn't give up that easily. 

Like today, you got him some coffee. 

"Morning, boss. Got you some coffee." You said in your usual cheerful tone. 

"Why?" He raised his eyebrows, looking down at you suspiciously. That's the most he's said to you all week. 

"Because I wanted to." You shrugged, placing it down on his desk. 

He steped down walking towards his desk, you couldn't help but stare at him, unfortunately for you, everything about him was so attractive, it's such a shame he hated you. 

"This isn't how I like my coffee." 

"Huh?" You snapped out of your daydream at the sound of his voice. 

"The coffee, it tastes terrible. Get it from another place next time." 

"Well, actually I made it-" But he had already walked away from you not listening to a word you said. "Alright, never mind, I'll just go back to work." You mumbled hurt by his words. 

"Wait, hold on." You looked up, thinking, maybe he'll say something nice after all. 

"Yeah?" 

"Take the coffee with you, I won't be drinking it." 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"Girl, why do you look so sad? Did Miguel do something again?" Jess asked with a frown, she did not like seeing you sad. 

"No."

"Sunflower…"

"Okay, yes." Miguel being cold towards you was normal, he never spoke to you unless necessary. Out of everyone here, he probably hated you the most, even more than Miles.  

"Sunflower, I've told you to stop trying." Jess sighed. 

"I know, I know… why does he hate me so much, Jess?" 

"That's just the way he is, don't overthink it. It's his loss, baby." She replied, gently patting your shoulder. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Today was going to be a good day, you were so sure of it. 

But, of course, you were wrong. 

Everything was going great up until a few hours ago. 

Miguel had assigned you on a mission to catch an anomaly, alongside a few other spider-people. His instructions were clear, stick to the plan and catch the anomaly. It was supposed to be simple. 

If only you didn't disobey him. You screwed up badly, and because of that, you could have been killed. 

"Why don't you ever listen?" Miguel shouted. No one had ever seen him this angry. 

"I was just tryin-" 

"¡Ay, por el amor de Dios!" Being yelled at by your boss in front of your coworkers was humiliating, everyone was looking at you with pity. 

"I'm sick of this, why can’t you follow simple instructions? Is it that hard to understand?" He barked, towering over you. 

"It's not a big deal." You tried to keep your composure, you didn't want to humiliate yourself further by bursting into tears. 

"Not a big deal? You could've died! A simple mistake would have ruined the whole mission." 

Don't cry. Don't cry. 

"But we're all fine, aren't we?" You weakly chuckled. That was the wrong thing to say because it only made him angrier. 

"Oh? If that's the attitude you have then you shouldn't even be on the team." Ouch. 

"Miguel, I think that's enough-" Hobie said, quickly jumping in. 

"Not now, Hobie." He growled. 

Never once did you think that you'd be in a situation like this. 

"If you put more focus on trying to be good at your job, rather than impressing me, we wouldn't even be here!" Oh, so he did notice that. 

At this point, tears were streaming freely down your face and you made no attempt to stop them. 

"Yep, you got it, boss." You smiled up at him through your tears. It was pathetic, but you did not care, you just wanted to leave and never come back. 

"Next time make sure this doesn't happen." 

"It won't happen next time." That's because there won't be a next time.

#📂 ‧₊˚ my works .ᐟ #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #spiderman x reader #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara angst

[sleepyangelkami]

Can you write a fic about ellie with a someone who just keeps talking and talking.. like maybe she talks fast and ellies trying to keep up but she can't..

YAP e.williams

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 1.6K

 ☆ SUMMARY - summary: ellie can usually handle your fast and consistent talking but tonight, after coming home from a long and late patrol, she tries her best and just... cant.

 ☆ WARNINGS - nothing really, sexual themes a little blink and it's gone, tinsey bit on insecurity not too much, tickling? reader is a yapper, petnames, fluff galoreee, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

todays patrol was painfully long. ellie was paired with some guy called max this evening so you sat inside you and ellie's shared home, feet warming up by the fire while you waited for her to finish. she was only supposed to be a couple of hours and if you were being honest, you think she actually came home early.

but you had so much to say that it felt like years before you saw your beautiful girlfriend walk in that front door.

when ellie walked in, she looked sort of tired but she still wore a grin sloppy and large. the sight of you, her pretty baby, sitting by the fire in your little shorts and a tank top along with your pink fluffy socks was enough to have her grinning from ear to ear.

the girl quickly set down her things, stating that she was going to change really fast and then she'd be out. you made sure to greet her with a big hug and a kiss beforehand so you had no problem with this, of course. while she was inside the bedroom you were fumbling with the loose string of your sock, wondering how much longer she was going to take.

"hi, angel." you heard causing you to look up from your sock, wide smile on display.

"hi, els." you waited for her to come closer. she was dressed in a black shirt that was loose on her along with a black pair of shorts with two white lines running down the sides. She moved to sit down next to you, placing you up on your lap. "have you talked to dina and jesse yet?"

ellie was too busy pressing little kisses to your neck. she placed her chin on your shoulder, looking up at you with furrowed brows. "not since this morning, why?" and you were secretly thankful for this. you wanted to tell her yourself, besides, you were always one for talking.

one of the many things ellie loved about you was how much you talked. when you first met ellie, you were like a gas bag that couldn't shut up. it was the nerves mixed with your already chatty personality that had words tumbling from your lips like wildfire. you weren't able to stop and being around her made it somehow more difficult. at first, it was the word vomit from your nervousness but now that you're so comfortable with ellie, you can't stop.

ellie didn't mind this, in fact, she loved it. she wasn't much of a talker herself sometimes. sometimes, all she wanted was to sit and be fucking quiet, you let her be that. you continued your little rambles and tangents while she listened with a sloppy grin on her face.

other times, you weren't so talkative.

like when she has her strap deep inside you and you're a babbling, incoherent mess. "c'mon, baby, tell me what you wanna say." she'd mumble against your ear knowing you can't. you'd be so fucked out that you couldn't even speak, just shaking your head and moaning out her name over and over, like a prayer sitting on your lips. She'd be so teasing too, smirk playing on her lips. "hm? can't hear you, angel."

now, though, there was a thousand words on your lips. "okay so―" suddenly you started babbling on, ellie's eyes widening slightly as her hands squished at the fat of your hips, craining her ears to listen.

"deep breaths, baby." she reminded once you got caught up on your words.

"thank you." you mumbled out, taking a breath before hastily moving on. "so then I was like, well i don't think he meant it that way―"

"wait, what did he do again?" ellie was tired, eyes sort of drooping but she wanted to hear your story even if she could barely understand you.

you stopped, mind trailing back to what she was asking you. there were so many words in your head that even you got caught up in the jumbles. "he put his hands on her hips, els." you reminded. "but i don't think he meant it in that way, there really was no room to get past!"

though the brunettes eyes were furrowed confusedly. "wait." stopping you again as you looked up at her with your big doe eyes. "whose hips did he grab again?" before asking. "we are talking about jesse still, arent we?"

"yes." you nodded. "and it was stephanie." taking note of her once again confused look. "you know stephanie, you did patrol with her a couple weeks ago."

she was so tired after patrol tonight, she was trying to stay alert, truly. "stephanie meadows?" because truly she didn't think she knew any other stephanie's.

"yes, els." you almost whined. "keep up." and she was trying, you knew she was trying.

you blabbered on again, mouth moving so fast that ellie could barely cling to certain words that slipped from it. she was trying to piece the story together as best she could. jesse had touched some girls hips, dina was angry, they were fighting and you were somehow pulled into the middle of this, somewhere along the story you were threatened with a spoon by dina who had asked you to pick a side, ellie thinks. weird though, because who threatens someone with a spoon?

though with dina's usual hot headedness and her anger just waiting to bubble over, ellie could believe it.

"but now they're okay again." you grinned, soft smile etched to your lips. ellie had to stammer back. "what's wrong?" somehow, the girl had been so wrapped up in thinking about if dina had truly threatened you with a spoon or if she had heard you wrong, she was sure she missed a good chunk of the story. which was odd seeing as she had merely let her mind wander for a couple of seconds before tuning back in. but by her face, you instantly knew what the problem was. you practically shrunk back from her face. "I was talking too much again, wasn't I?"

"no, no, not at all angel." she was quick to press a chaste kiss against your cheek, letting you know there was no reason to be insecure at all. "you know i'd listen to you talk forever if i could."

truth be told, you knew you talked a lot. you knew that once your mouth started moving, you never shut up. countless times you had sat next to ellie with tears streaming down your face as she held you close. you talked down on yourself, stating that you were like a gasbag waiting to explode to which ellie had to stifle a laugh at before kissing you softly. she'd push the hair from your face and make you look at her. she'd tell you that you talking was the equivalent of her peace. once your mouth started moving, her day officially started. and when it stopped, her day ended. you were her everything, she lived and breathed you and all of your talking.

"you know you don't have to." you mumbled, trying to ignore the way your face heated up at the feeling of her small kisses against your skin. "you can tell me when i'm too much."

too much, you've always felt like too much. you took up too much room, in friendships, relationships, family, anything really. you've always thought that there was too much of you, you wished you could just be quiet sometimes, allow other people to take up nearly as much room as you were. but tried as you must, you just couldn't. and that was because it wasn't you. you were always going to be too much.

"you're never too much f'me, sweet girl." she turned your head and pressed a kiss to your other cheek. "you're." pressing a kiss to your nose. "perfect." and finally, a kiss to the supple of your lips. "'m just a little tired, hard f'me to keep up." you nodded your head, taking in her words. "but i wanna hear you talk and i especially wanna know why dina was threatening you with spoons."

you giggled at that, lips turning upwards. "she didn't want me siding with jesse!" trying to defend your best friend. "she didn't mean it!"

"we'll see if she means it when i get my hands on her tomorrow." ellie's hands found your hips, scrunching her fingers to tickle you. you screeched, giggles falling from your lips as you pushed at her.

"ellie! stop! stop!" though there were laughs emitting your lips anyway as you fell backwards against the rug on your living room floor.

ellie didn't stop her attack on your poor innocent sides. "this'll teach her not to threaten my pretty baby with spoons again."

you were a laughing mess when ellie finally stopped her tickle attack, laying next to you on the carpet, ignoring the way her arms burned against the face of the fire. you couldn't contain the giggles that fell past your lips as you looked at the girl. "you're crazy!" you exclaimed.

her brows furrowed. "so, dina gets to threaten you with spoons which is just fine but i'm the crazy one?" you only giggled in response, ellie couldn't help the way her lips were permanently turned upwards. the sound of your laugh was the thing ellie was sure she'd die a happy woman to. the sight of your smile was completely and utterly captivating. she could stare at you forever. "tell me the story again, angel."

you couldn't say no to that offer. you sat up, hair bouncing as you did so. "okay, so―"

main masterlist/ellie's masterlist

#queer #ellie williams angst #ellie #williams #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams smut #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams oneshot #lesbian #the last of us #tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie williams the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us x reader #ellie williams drabble #ellie drabble #ellie tlou #ellie williams tlou #tlou x reader #tlou x y/n #ellie williams x y/n #tlou fluff #tlou angst #tlou imagine #tlou oneshot #gay #lgbtq

[tarjapearce]

Lips anon! Projecting a little bit of childhood tramua, but imagine a teacher complaining that Benji's hair is "messy." Aka too curly for her liking cuz some teachers be assholes like that. Miguel is offended, and Mama goes full rabid on her, calling her to a teacher's conference over some dumb shit like this lol

Mama tells Benji that his hair isn't messy and his teacher is a puta. He's just a handsome curly boy 💕

Not. With. My. Benji. >:(

(To y'all curly babes out there, including me, Our hair is gorgeous ok? we gorgeous ❤️❤️)

Benjamin fiddled with his fingers, chewed the inside of his cheek and stole little glances here and there to you and Miguel. He didn't know if he was in trouble.

He had to tell you that one of his teachers wanted to speak directly with you and Miguel as soon as possible. He was a first grader, maybe she wanted to talk about about something to improve Benjamin's weakness in certain areas.

Miguel had taken a day to attend the meeting, teacher came in and Benjamin recoiled even further next to you, almost hiding behind you. You frowned.

"Mr. and Mrs. O'Hara, thank you for coming today." She started with a polite smile, you followed.

"Benjamin told us that there was something you needed to discuss with us. Is Benjamin doing ok?" Miguel spoke, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Oh yes. You see, Benjamin is a good student. He has a bit of trouble speaking loudly when it's required to. He's still a bit shy, but overall, he's good."

"Right, so," You stared at her as she looked with squinted eyes at Benjamin.

"Is there any real issues that needs to be addressed? It's fine if he's a bit shy, it's a new grade for him. New classmates, new experiences, it's normal to feel a bit overwhelmed."

"Correct. Look, we have this... image code that applies to everyone and I believe that Benjamin isn't following it."

She spoke and you and Miguel blinked at her words. Confused at first but a bad feeling sunk into your gut.

"What's wrong with Benjamin dress code?" Miguel expression hardened when Benji's hand held onto his sleeve, like saying 'stop'.

"It's not about the dress code but more his, image."

"There is nothing wrong with my son, Mrs. Charles." Miguel's brow rose, his arms crossing on his chest as you spoke. He'd usually would try and calm you to then get a less heated approach, dialogue. But this time he just watched, not liking one bit where this was going.

"Maybe if you could cut or comb his hair a bit-"

Miguel rose and placed his hands on his waist. The hulking figure had startled the teacher. Good.

"You made me skip a day of work just for you to say my son has messy hair and you don't like it?" He almost hissed the last words.

You finally understood why Benjamin had been spending some time looking himself in the mirror the last past days.

"Do you understand Spanish, Mrs. Charles?"

"I do, ma'am. This is... just-"

"A mi hijo lo respeta, señora. Muy maestra puede ser usted, y aún así le queda grande el puesto, pero con mi hijo no se meta." ( My son is to be respected, ma'am. You can be a teacher all you want and still you're unworthy to be one, but you won't mess with my son.)

Miguel picked up a very distressed Benjamin and left. Your spanish had improved considerably thanks to Miguel.

"Mi hijo pasa un buen rato viéndose al espejo por culpa suya. Y no le voy a permitir que esté proyectando sus inseguridades en él. Si vuelvo a saber que usted o que alguno de sus compañeros lo molestan, voy a tomar cartas en el asunto. ¿Entendió?" (My son spends a good amount of time looking himself in the mirror because of you. I won't allow you to project your insecurities on him. If I know of this again from you or that his classmates are pestering him because of it, I'm taking hands in the matter. Got it?)

You left the classroom with a slam on the door, didn't even let the teacher speak.

"Vieja puta." (Fucking Bitch)

Miguel held Benjamin tighter, covering his ears at your cursing.

"Who the fuck she think she is?! Making us waste our time." Benjamin rubbed his eyes, his nose was getting red, his reaction only made your anger to boil.

"Benjamin, baby?"

He looked at you as Miguel put him down.

"I need you to listen to me, okay mi amor?"

He nodded as you wiped his tears.

"There is nothing wrong with your hair, okay? Your hair is beautiful. And many other kids would give anything to have it."

He hiccuped.

Miguel kneeled and slicked his hair softly.

"Don't listen to her, champ. Probably the lady is just jealous you have more hair than her"

Benjamin couldn't help but giggle.

"What do we say at home, baby?"

"I am kind"

"Aha, what else?"

"My voice matters"

"Of course it does, Mi amor" You hugged him and peppered his face in kisses earning more giggles from him.

"And you are beautiful, okay. From these lovely bouncy curls, from these speedy feet, okay?

He nodded.

"Wanna go for an ice cream?"

Miguel put him on his back, his little legs dangling on his neck as you all left.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #💋 anon #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #soccer family ⚽🕷️ #wife reader #t writes✨ #miguel o'hara fluff

[bylersswingset]

Guys yk how in Mikes monologue he says "i love you on your bad days"? Nuh uh.

WHY IT DOESNT APPLY TO EL:

-When they're at Rinkomainia and El hits Angela, he's all like "WHAT DID YOU DO" and then he doesn't sit next to her and comfort her (we'll get back to who he is next to).

-The day after Rinkomainia he just confronts her with everything and when she tries to tell him how she feels he just shuts it down. He also knows that she wanted to hear that he still loved her but WHYYYY couldn't he say it? It parallels Nancy and Steve in season two where Nancy can't tell Steve she loves him bc she doesn't.

WHY IT APPLIES TO WILL:

-When Will was possessed and sent demodogs to the lab, Mike was still there by his side. When he made it out he was holding Will in his arms (cuties). When everyone was trying to get Will to talk, Mike was talking to Will about the day they met. Even after all that he didn't leave Will's side. Clearly that was a bad day 💀

-In season 3 when Will was upset at Mike and he was all like "it's not my fault you dont like girls" (it is). Will pedaled away and Mike was like omg I fricked up 💀. HE DROVE ACROSS TOWN TO APOLOGIZE. WHEN DOES HE DO SMTH LIKE THAT W EL??? 🤨

-Back to Rinkomainia Will and Mike start fighting abt how Mike never tried to contact him (which actually is a miscommunication bc Mike did try to call him but the phone was busy and "Mike wont stop whining abt it"). Then they hear a scream and run to see El and Angela. Who is he next to after this happens??? WILL. HE ISNT NEXT TO HIS GF WHO WAS JUST PUBLICLY BULLIED. HES NEXT TO WILL. Even after the argument buddy still doesn't leave his side.

Anyways I'm a bit of a yapper

TL:DR- Mike doesn't love El on her bad days, but he loves Will on his.

#byler #byler endgame #bylerproof #stranger things #ST5

[space-invading-pigeon]

Steve came home from work one day pissed as hell. His coworker had made three of his little ones cry, the service dog that was supposed to visit the long-term patients was cancelled last minute, Dustin texted him to cancel their weekly phone call because he and Suzie were fighting, Hopper had to postpone his monthly check-in because El caught a stomach bug at school, and Mrs. Ryans stopped him in the lobby to tell him that she's praying his "no good devil worshipping roommate" received the damnation he supposedly deserves.

So Steve burst into his home, fuming, face flushed red in his anger, and startled poor Eddie out of his armchair. "I called Mrs. Ryans a stupid old hag and I'm not apologizing!" He announced, practically throwing his shoes into their proper place. "She's stupid and I hope she breaks her other hip."

Eddie started his usual task of making brownies (he's a firm believer that chocolate can make anything better, and he knows that Steve's got an almost pavlovian response to the smell of brownies now) while Steve changes out of his scrubs and into something more comfortable. He'd completely bypassed his own closet, instead stealing one of Eddie's prized Iron Maiden tees to go with his threadbare pajama bottoms. Eddie opened his mouth to ask what had happened that day to make Steve so upset, but Steve didn't let him.

"Seriously, why does she hate you so much? You're like the sweetest person ever. So I told her to stop talking shit about you, and she was like, 'why should I,' so I told her that my baby sister would slap the wig off her bald little head if she kept being shitty to my boyfriend, and I might have actually given her a heart attack. Should we go check on her?" Eddie froze at Steve's admission; first of all, a baby sister?? But, more pressing, boyfriend. "Oh, my god, I might have killed our elderly neighbor. El wouldn't actually slap her! Wait, yes she would. She's still learning social norms and I don't think Hop told her that hitting old people is frowned on. I don't- does Hop know not to hit old people? Eddie, my dad might abuse the elderly."

"Stevie, honey, slow down," he finally settled on. Eddie bypassed their little dining table to sit Steve on the couch. "One thing at a time. Mrs. Ryans is not dead, we'd have heard all the munchkins singing by now."

"I'm not going to prison for shocking our neighbor to death, Eddie, I'd rather be melted into a giant flesh monster," Steve piped up. Eddie didn't have time to unpack whatever that meant, so he ignored it.

"You're talking about your sister like she's not used to humans."

"She's not, really. She was ex- she was, um, bad home life. Before we met. She's Hopper's daughter now, but before, her dad fucked her up. Like, doomsday, raise the children in isolation, fucked up." Steve was marginally calmer, but his anger gave way to nerves as everything he'd said caught up with him. "I called you my boyfriend."

"Good to know you've got beauty and brains, sweetheart," Eddie cooed at him, smacking an exaggerated kiss to his cheek. "Not every day I have such a cute guy screaming at old ladies for me."

"J-just the one old lady. You're not mad I called you my boyfriend?" Eddie paused there, giving Steve the flattest stare he could manage.

"Steve. I've been flirting with you for two years. Bruce has been trying to get me to propose to you for one of those two years."

"Bruce just had a baby, he should worry about-"

"Bruce tried to explain to you that we're dating and you called him a funny guy, honey. Congrats, you're the last to know."

"We're dating?" Steve shrieked, and Eddie couldn't help but laugh. Steve's face was so incredulous, like he really had no idea, and as sad as it was to see that, it was just too funny to Eddie that they'd been dating in almost every sense for more than a year before Steve seemed to be aware of it. "Are you telling me I could have kissed you this whole time?"

"Well, yeah, obviously. Stevie, you really didn't know? I thought it was obvious how much I love you, sweetheart."

#steddie #steve harrington #stranger things headcanons #eddie munson #eddie and steve #roommates au #the party #here's how they get together #as a lil treat #because im going to make them suffer later

[doodler-jpeg]

Thinking about self aware! MW characters (plus Roach) who absolutely adore your laugh.

CW// gender neutral, unfunny men deserve to be slandered, favoritism is seen, badly translated Scottish and Spanish, this is based off of my interpretation (you can find the main fic link on my account)

Feedback and criticism are highly encouraged! Please tell me if anything is badly translated, out of character, or something else!

Ghost actively makes jokes that are guaranteed to make you at least giggle. Even through this weird mental barrier (for him) and your monitor's screen, it's so invigorating to hear some form of joy out on the field, especially when it's from you. It just makes that fuzzy feeling in his heart multiply.

"Thank you, thank you - I'll be here all night."

Gaz takes absolute advantage of this. He makes a few jokes here and there, but keeps it to interesting stories. In some instances, he just starts laughing out of nowhere and you can't help but join in. It's very clear he gets bitches on the daily.

"Didn't know I was that funny, but I'll take what I can get."

Price uses all of his past experiences with courting to get, at the very least, a giggle or two out of you. He doesn't have millenium of experience (contrary to your belief), but he's certain that his "old-man" charisma and his weird way with words. But he still tells some older jokes, so your assumption that he's older isn't completely wrong (he was totally raised by his grandparents).

"Would you like to hear a story?" *Tells one of the pointless joke stories that lasts for 10 minutes and has the stupidest punchline*

Roach can't really come up with ways to make you laugh. His preference of keeping quiet and faceless doesn't really help, either. Instead, he tries to point out some enemy on the field, signing insults to them that you're sure to understand.

'His head looks like a donkey, and he acts like one, too.'

Soap physically cannot keep you from laughing. He doesn't even have to make a joke, you just start laughing. He believes it's because he's just an immediately funny dude, but you're not going to tell him that he looks stupid with that hairstyle. If he does tell any jokes, they're not even funny.

"Dinnae ken how come ye'r laughing, bit keep daein' it."

Alejandro tries, he really does, and it doesn't work most of the time. It's kind of funny seeing this overly-confident dude absolutely fumble because of his lack of realization that your personality and humor aren't really the same as the people he usually catches. On occasion, though, he does get a rise out of you and can't stop smirking about it for the rest of the day.

Valeria has subtle jokes that rely mainly on her tone, but those aren't her priority. She doesn't mean to be rude (lies usually, but with you?), but she does impressions of your laugh and then comments on it. Usually they're not bad, but it does feel demeaning sometimes.

"Me gusta esa risa. Jejejejeje."

"You know why Mexicans call Americans 'gringos'? ... Would you like to?"

Rodolfo doesn't always try to make you laugh - he still gets a bit disoriented that you're no physically there (which means he can't see your face, but what is he gonna do about it?). His humbleness and large range of jokes really comes through, especially since he'd been the family entertainer at parties. If you can understand simple jokes in Spanish? You're practically set to be unable to keep a straight face, and he loves it. (Even if he doesn't understand it, he'll turn it into a mini lesson so you do)

"¿Qué dijo el gato cuando chocó su carro? 'Miau-to.'"

Nikolai has a handful of Russian jokes at his disposal. Are you completely guaranteed to understand? No, and he doesn't expect you to. If you do understand Russian, boy howdy is he gonna have the time of his life! You won't be able to breathe properly until he's out of sight!

"You see, it's funny because-" *explains joke if you don't understand*

Laswell is a huge fan of subtle jokes. She often makes small, funny comments that get light-hearted chuckles out of her. However, she also has older humor, which means you're less likely to understand unless you, too, are old (which isn't likely, but it's still a possibility). She likes hearing you laugh and really does try to get some sort of connection with you, even if it doesn't work.

"What did the chicken say when it crossed the road? 'Damn it, I missed the bus.'"

Alex is a funny man. He's aware of his effect on people and uses it to his full advantage. As a people-pleaser, he makes it his duty to get you to laugh as much as possible. If he doesn't make you laugh, he'll make himself laugh, and then you laugh. He's totally not putting all his effort into jokes just to get you to laugh or anything. He's just that guy.

"Me? A tryhard? Whaaaat? Psh- as if."

Farah has no business with nonchalant jokes, but she makes them work. While she does like the sound of your voice, she doesn't want to force it. She believes that intentionally funny words can diminish any genuine laughter, so she sticks to half-assing it in hopes you at least giggle. That's not to say she doesn't try to get you to laugh - she just does it far less, since she can't see your face (but she can just imagine the glee on your face if you get the giggles because of her).

"What is your type of humor? Asking for a friend."

Graves is unintentionally funny. When he tries, he fails miserably. He says a southern phrase that might not be super known? You're cracking up. He doesn't get it, but at least you're going 'teehee'.

"What's so funny 'bout me sayin' cattywampus? It fits the situation!"

#cod self aware au #self aware au #self aware call of duty #john price x reader #x reader #call of duty x reader #call of duty #ghost x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #rodolfo parra x reader #phillip graves x reader #nikolai x reader #laswell x reader #alex keller x reader #farah karim x reader

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Thinking of a modern AU when the kids get to be kids after it's all over and they go to the movies, they play games, hang out, all that. And of course, Steve drives them everywhere. He vouches for them in front of their parents, watches them like a hawk, tries to tell them about the adult stuff he's learned so far and chases Robin and Nancy to give them info on uni application and the things he feels he's too dumb for. Still, when Robin and Nancy are away and one of his kids needs something, he'll grab that legal document and either stare at it long enough to get a migraine or begins hounding the smart people who stayed in Hawkins (Mr. Clarke is Steve's go-to person and Mr. Clarke won't say it, but he's so proud of Harrington's progress).

So, Steve's life is basically nonstop work and babysitting (with lots of complaints and grumbling from the teens), they ask him to drive them somewhere and he'll bitch about it, sure, but he will get up after 4 hours of sleep and do it anyways. Dustin often reprimands Steve for not taking care of his health, but he doesn't see why.

When Encanto comes out, El really, really wants to see it, and how can Steve say no to her? He drives the whole gang to the movie theatre (some of them stacked on top of each other, some in the trunk on a pile of blankets) and decides to join them. He doesn't really like animated stuff, but Robin loves these movies and he wants yet another reason to call her and talk through the night.

He didn't expect to enjoy the movie so much, but it's colorful and catchy. The songs are nice and the characters are relatable. He makes a lot of mental notes to discuss with Robin. He thinks she will love Mirabel.

And then "Surface Pressure" starts playing and Steve wonders why he suddenly feels like crying. "I'm pretty sure I'm worthless if I can't be of service" hits especially hard. He's just sitting there and feeling incredibly stupid for tearing up at flying glitter-covered donkeys.

When they leave the movie theater, everyone is pretty excited and discussing which characters and songs they liked the most (even if some feel like rolling their eyes at a kids' movie, El's excitement stops them from doing that). They all start discussing to who they relate the most, El feels with Mirabel for being left out and different, even if she actually is the only one who has a gift, Will dares to utter that he really sympathizes with Dolores, Dustin loves Bruno for trying to fix the cracks in Casita.

And then they turn to Steve and someone makes a jab at him, saying he resembles Mariano the most. Steve is ready to shrug it off, there's some truth in that with what happened to his relationship with Nancy, but El just shakes her head and says: "No. Steve is our Luisa."

Everyone goes silent. There's a lot of hmmming and "well, he did get up to drive us when he had a night shift..." and "we could have just biked...". Steve tries to make them feel better about it, joking that he really has nothing better to do, but the drive home is full of whispering, and the party actually diligently thank him when they leave his car.

The next day is Sunday and Steve is ready for his usual routine, making himself busy until someone needs something. But there's a knock on the door to his small apartment and when he opens it, he sees his group of kids, proudly presenting a tray of muffins and two cartons of orange juice.

Out of all of them, it's Mike who speaks up. "Nancy said you often forget to eat breakfast," he states in his usual annoyed tone. "She also said that you like chocolate muffins, so we are here to ensure you don't die from hunger. Now move, I'll get the glasses and plates."

Steve just watches in awe as they swarm his flat, Will smiling at him and producing a DVD of the latest Spider-man movie. "This one was a tip from Robin, she says you haven't seen it yet."

Max is standing in the kitchenette with her cane, watching the pile of meds Steve has to take after his injuries with disdain. "This has to take forever for you to find what you need. Don't argue, I remember how shitty it was for me. Let me help you build a chart and thank me later."

El and Lucas are rearranging Steve's couch and placing pillows in front of the TV so everyone can sit comfortably. El also ensures the blinds are closed so Steve's eyes don't have to fight against the light.

And if that all wasn't more care than Steve has known in years, Dustin grabs his elbow and sits him down, threatening him with violence if he even thinks about working on Sunday.

As the opening titles start, Steve is surrounded by six teenagers in his tiny and cheap flat, chewing on a subpar muffin with an orange juice that probably never saw the actual fruit, and he thinks that there's no greater happiness than this.

#steve harrington #steve harrington drabble #the party #stranger things #stranger things drabble #stranger things au #encanto #healing and understanding your roles through movies is awesome #steve harrington is and will be loved

[angelwithdemonictendencies]

i wear my shame like tar in a vacant town square, spitting out feathers like blood; you touch my hand and ask if i'm ready to go home.

cc22 x reader: the two of you never go out of style (ft. best friend ax72).

(warnings: longest story yet (12.5k, get comfortable), obviously blasphemous filth (i'm getting back in the swing of it, i think), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), oral sex (f on m), choking and hair pulling and oral fixation and all of my usual nonsense (this one is a little touchy, don't ask me why), bodily fluids (you guys know the drill), depiction of self-doubt and burnout and failure and general unhappiness (you always get a happy ending, though! because you deserve a happy ending), don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.) gif is not mine.)

(a/n: favorites! this story poured out of me over the course of the last couple of weeks, all thanks to one of my friends who showed me a picture of cc22 on pinterest (thank you, country music festival season. you will be missed). and here we are! with many creative liberties taken, you have yourself a story with my typical mythical and religious imagery, way too much description, dialogue that no one would say, and plot holes the size of canyons. but you guys keep indulging me anyways, and i love you and thank you for that. you're a stylist in this one! (something fun and different, i think). as for takeways - too often we get caught up in what we think we should have accomplished by now, what we think others expect from us, how terribly we must be letting them down. deep breath and let it go, favorites. all you can do is show up, over and over again. that will always be enough. you will always be enough. enjoy this piece of my heart until inspiration next strikes and please tell me what you think. go canucks (under el capitano hughes, even! that c on his jersey stands for chokes out his girl). my snakes say hi to your snakes. love and gentleness and strength to you, always always always.)

the first car ride to your new client's house was stressful, to say the least. and that wasn't even with arber's haphazard driving style taken into account.

"jesus," you bit out from the passenger seat, "i'd prefer to be alive for this meeting, bear."

"relax," he said, taking a right. you didn't have to be looking at him to know he was fighting the urge to roll his eyes. "and stop with the fidgeting. this isn't an interview. you're already hired."

you dropped your hands to your sides, stopped twisting your rings around your fingers as he had requested.

you exhaled a deep breath. he was right, after all. you already had the job. that honestly wasn't what you were worried about. you were worried about styling someone who wasn't arber. that was entirely new territory.

after all, you had known arber practically your entire life. he had been your best friend, your first boyfriend, then your best friend again. he was the number one person in your life, the person you felt most comfortable with.

you had been the first person he hugged after his family when he signed with the habs, the person who he called to pick him up after a night out, the one who he asked for help when he was texting a new girl.

so, when he had asked you to be his full-time stylist, you had dropped everything, said yes immediately.

to be fair, though, you hadn't had to drop much. you knew he had asked you partially to be kind, as the offer came during the worst period of your life. freshly dropped out of school, cheated on and broken up with, without a purpose or direction in sight, arber had been the one to extend a hand, offer you a new dream like it was nothing but a jacket in the cold.

and it was your dream, genuinely. you had been studying at school to be a fashion journalist, aspiring to work in new york one day, have an office in a skyscraper, read your pieces in the print of a glossy magazine.

but things change. things fall apart. and things get glued back together again like china teacups.

you were so, so grateful, though. you loved your job. you loved bringing out the best in arber, you loved discovering new sides of the fashion industry, you loved the travel and the events and the fact that your best friend was your employer.

sometimes though, you couldn't help but feel like you were missing something, like your heavenly wings had been sawed off, leaving only dissipated potential and thick blood running down your back. and the weight. oh, how you felt the weight of your wings even though they were gone, stolen.

you felt the weight now, as arber pulled you both into the driveway, parked, turned to you. "deep breath, okay?"

you obeyed, your exhale coming out a little shaky. he put a warm hand on your shoulder, squeezed. "ready to expand your business?"

you gave him a smile, a genuine one. he had always referred to this whole agreement as your business, even though it was entirely his idea.

you nodded, to which he smiled. you both got out of the car and walked to the door. arber rang the doorbell as you straightened out the legs of your pants, even though you had pressed them this morning.

not a big deal, you thought to yourself. just adding another client. just adding another client, that's all, nothing serious.

you knew you were wrong as soon as the door opened.

your new client stood in the doorframe, much shorter than arber and maybe an inch taller than you. he looked like the human embodiment of stability, in all senses of the word. he was broad, so strong looking, you knew it must be impossible to knock him over. but his kind eyes, his warm energy, he just looked so stable. so happy, so secure.

and his smile. what other way was there to take that smile, if not serious as death?

you blinked. arber slapped you on the back, made you cough. had someone been talking?

"this is cole," arber said, shooting you a look that said dial in. he gave cole your name.

you cleared your throat and extended your hand, smiled softly. "pleasure to meet you, cole," you said. "'m excited to start working with you."

you were hit, then, with the full force of his gaze, the entirety of his gorgeous smile. "'d bet you i'm more excited, love," he said, so laidback, enveloping your outstretched hand in his, giving you a first shake.

"easy," arber warned his teammate with a look, referring to the obviously flirtatious tone cole had adopted. cole just smiled.

his palm was rough with wear, with work, and warm with promise. your hand felt heavy in his. you felt like your body might let out a comical sigh of relief at the perfect easiness of his touch.

at that realization, you dropped your hand, brushed your palm on your jeans. you didn't see his eyes follow the movement, nor did you see his jaw work for only a moment.

"i'll leave you to it, then," arber said, clapping his hand in cole's in goodbye. he had told you he would introduce you, but you knew he had things to do, and now the actual work had to begin. your work. surely, you could expand your circle, just a bit, right? make some room?

"thanks again for sharing," cole said to your best friend.

"be good to each other," arber warned like a chastising parent, moving a pointed finger between the two of you.

"if you're anything like wifi," cole said to you, "don't think that'll be hard."

arber shook his head. "oh, she's much better than me," he said, and you knew he believed it, which made you feel those phantom scars on your back. not even close, you thought.

you rolled your eyes, his antics bringing a smile out of you regardless. "sure," you said. "i'll see you tomorrow, bear."

the corner of cole's full mouth ticked up at your nickname for his teammate. he stepped back and held open the door to his house. "after you, love," he said, gentle as anything.

you bowed your head slightly in thanks, partially to hide the flush that now bloomed on your cheeks at the prospect of being alone with cole.

"i hope arber told you that you can trust me, and stuff," cole said, rubbing the back of his neck as you both walked through the entryway. "i know this is kind of out of the blue, and all that, but apparently, i really need your help, so-"

you bit back a grin. "apparently?"

he tilted his head, sucked on his teeth, gave you a guilty sort of smile. "alright," he started, "i didn't think i needed any help in the fashion department." he pulled out a stool at his kitchen countertop for you before walking around to the fridge, beginning to pour two glasses of water.

"did you?" you asked to his back as he faced away. his back that rippled under his t-shirt. which you definitely didn't notice.

there was a goofy, fake accusative look on his face as he turned back to you, placing one water in front of you. "what are you implying?"

you reached across the counter to grab two coasters and set them in front of you both, thanking him. "nothing," you teased, "except that i've seen your instagram, and maybe that my presence here wouldn't be the worst thing in the world."

he squinted for a moment, maybe confused, as he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the counter. "well, we agree on that, then," he replied.

a pause that felt like caramel settled between you two for a moment as you held each other's gazes. his, comfortable, and yours, curious.

you cleared your throat, brought up a hand to rub at your shoulder. "so, apart from thinking you don't need a stylist, what else do i need to know?"

"i don't know," he started. his forearms flexed, making the veins in his arms more prominent. "i like hats on gamedays?"

a grin broke across your face like sunlight. you let out a laugh. "yeah?"

"what?" he asked, fake offended again, but his smile was nothing but so utterly pleased.

you shook your head, crossed one leg over the other. "nothing," you said. "just don't know why the clients i attract are dead set on hats, of all things." you were thinking of all the times arber had insisted on a hat, even though you thought his hair had looked just perfect for the camera.

"how did you and wifi meet?" cole asked easily, perhaps also thinking about arber and his colorful hat collection. "or bear, right? that's what you call him?"

you blushed, nodded slightly.

"only if you're comfortable," he clarified, and it surprised you that you actually were. sitting here, in this stranger's house, you felt normal.

"we've known each other since grade school," you began, clasping your hands. "he's my best friend."

"you don't come to the games," cole said, nothing more than an observation.

you shook your head. "not a hockey fan," you admitted.

he tilted his head. "maybe you just haven't been watching the right player, love."

you rolled your eyes at his obvious arrogance. "okay, big guy."

he took a sip of water. "so you guys have always been friends?"

"we dated for about a year in high school," you said, leaning on your clasped hands. "my first boyfriend."

something interesting sparked in his gaze. something you noted. "and?"

you narrowed your eyes. "and some people aren't meant to be dating. arber and i are meant to be friends. why?"

just a bit of a blush crept across his nose. "no reason. how did you get into styling?"

you rubbed at your shoulder blades again. "arber offered me the job." you swallowed, omitted the rest of the story. you were comfortable, but not that comfortable. "he's the first and only person i've styled, up until now. until you."

meaning flooded his eyes. "i'm honored, then."

don't be, you thought, i'm not worthy of something like your honor.

"thanks for making some room for me," he finished, giving you another smile that had your heart feel like it was bubbling.

"if you didn't want a stylist," you asked, trying to slow down your heartbeat. "why am i here?"

"i was catching too much heat from the guys," he confessed, honest and unserious. "and wifi said he could hook me up. said you were the best of the best."

you closed your eyes and gave the slightest shake of your head as you smiled. of course he would say that.

"so, how do you usually start out?" he asked.

you thought to yourself for a minute. you didn't really know. "when i started with arber, i already knew everything about him," you said. "and i don't know anything about you, cole."

"except," he clarified, "that i like hats."

"yes, except that." you let out a low laugh. what must life be like, to take everything so lightly?

"what do you want to know?" he asked, running a hand through his soft-looking hair.

"style is about showing everyone a little more you," you explained. "what do you want people to see when they look at you?"

he scrunched his mouth to the side in thought. "i don't really care what people see." his emphasis told you that he cared about specific people, not people as a collective. what would it be like to be a part of those select few?

you took a breath. what it must be like. "okay. who are you dressing for?"

he appeared confused again, and he wore the expression like a child. "what do you mean?"

you could never be anything but patient with him. what would disappointment look like on him? you shuddered at the thought.

"you mentioned the guys in the locker room. are they your audience? or maybe the girls on social media?" he blinked. "who do you want to look good for?"

"how does arber answer this question?" cole asked.

you pressed your index finger to your lips playfully. "client confidentiality," you explained.

"i want to look good for me," he said. "i play better when i know i look good before the game."

you nodded, making a note of that. "good." his gaze softened into something lovely.

"but i wouldn't be mad if your help meant i get some more edits made of me."

a laugh burst free from your chest, organic and loud. it seemed to echo across the high ceilings, and it echoed in cole's head. "got it. show me your closet?"

you made to get up as he pushed off of the counter, his arms and chest flexing as he did so. you willed your flush to dull, not wanting to give yourself away or make him uncomfortable, although that seemed impossible.

"take me out to dinner first," he joked, making you roll your eyes as he led you to the master bedroom, then to his massive closet. he held the door open for you again.

"do we have enough hats?" you asked sarcastically, your eyes immediately drawn to his excessive collection.

"okay, lay off," he said, grinning, leaning against the doorframe. "they aren't going anywhere."

you panned through his button-downs, his trousers, his ties, overall pretty impressed. "lots of color," you observed. "especially in your accent pieces."

"i like to be a little different," he admitted.

you were glad you weren't looking at him head on. as if his presence wouldn't make him stick out in any crowd, no matter the size.

"you have a lot of nice pieces here," you complimented, finally.

he looked at you with such hope, you melted. "really, love?"

the name made you flutter off the ground, like you had wings again. like they had never been severed off with a rusted blade.

you nodded, met his gaze, decided you could probably live there, drowning in his attention. "yeah, cole. i'm excited to help the world see a little more of you." lucky world.

i'm excited to see more of you, you wanted to say.

something warm swirled in the air around the two of you. "thank you again for taking me on," he said. "you didn't have to, and i'm really happy you're here."

you could have sighed at those words. when was the last time someone had told you that, so explicitly?

you bit your lip. "okay, so wednesday? we can do measurements?" you said, hoping he didn't notice your breathlessness.

"perfect," he agreed.

so, on wednesday, you were back at cole's house, this time with all of your supplies, ready to begin what you hoped would be a wonderful partnership. and you were sure it would be, if only you could stop getting so distracted by your client.

and he was ever so distracting, now, having obviously just showered, flushed from steam, hair damp and dark, his eyes a drowsy and delicious sort of comfortable.

"you came back," he said as you stepped inside past him, past what you could assume was the smell of his shampoo - something fresh and almost floral.

you clutched your clipboard to your chest, looked at him curiously. "of course i did," you said. this was your job, after all. you were dedicated to your business, your craft. to your people. and cole was technically part of that circle now.

he put his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, shrugged. "just happy you're back, 's all."

you bowed your head to hide how much his words meant to you. how could he say things like that? things that meant everything to you, but he said them like they were the easiest thing in the world? like they were just an exhale?

"how was practice?" you asked softly as the two of you walked side by side to his closet. you knew it had been exhausting, at least from arber's curse-filled rambling that had blown up your phone the second his ice time ended. you had empathized with him, but mostly just reminded him to chug some gatorade and suck it up, he was a professional athlete.

the thought of telling cole caufield to suck it up almost made you sick to your stomach.

he blew out a breath. "tough, today," he said. "i won't bore you, though. know you're not a hockey fan." he said the last part with a joking sort of bite.

i want to know, you wanted to say. i want to know about you.

but you didn't want to scare him off, or come across as weird, so you didn't say anything.

"what's your plan for today?" he asked.

right. you had a plan. you put your clipboard between your side and your arm, pulled out your tape measure. "measurements," you said with a smile, almost shyly.

now that you thought about it, taking someone's measurements was an intimate act in itself. standing here, in front of him, you realized how dangerous this was.

was there anything more tense? than to know the width of one's thigh, having never seen it bare? to deeply understand the curve of one's neck, but through numbers, never touch?

"where do you need me?" he asked, and you wondered briefly if he registered why his words made you jittery.

one look at his ghost of a smirk and you had your answer. you cleared your throat. you put a pen behind your ear, tape measure and clipboard in your hands, held your arms up in a t. "like this," you said, and he mirrored you.

you took a breath before closing the space between you, beginning to measure the distance from the center of his chest to his fingertips.

did the silence weigh as heavily on him as it did you? like kindling, one spark away from a wildfire?

you recorded the number on your paper.

"what did you do today?" cole asked you gently, as if not to spook you. you wrapped the measure around his bicep as you thought to yourself.

"not much," you said, thinking about your slow morning, which you had spent drafting something like an article, exploring recent trends among male athletes. something no one would ever read, you were sure.

you were almost embarrassed at your inability to talk to him - keeping everything short, so short, as if keeping distance from a rabid animal.

he didn't seem to notice. "what did you have for lunch, then?"

a small smile began to pull at your mouth. "a grilled cheese."

he tilted his head back and let out something like a moan, something that had you bowing your head to hide your face.

something that made the air scream.

"that sounds amazing," he said as you bent down, held the measure at his feet and began to work it all up to his knee.

"yeah?" you replied, happy to not have to look at him, to have something to do with your hands. "maybe i'll make you one sometime."

there was a pause. "would you?" he asked, voice slow.

you scrunched up your face, met his gaze for only a second before turning back to your task. "yes," you said simply before pulling the measure up to his waist.

the number made your shoulder shake in a rumble of laugh.

"what?" you could hear the glow of a smile in his voice, bouncy and bubbly.

you shook your head. "nothing," you tried. "'m just used to different measurements."

"are you?" he asked. "don't tell me you're thinking about another man right now, love. it'd shatter my heart."

you laughed for real, at that. "it's just that arber is so tall, barely proportionate," you explained, writing on your clipboard again. "and you're-" you faded out, at a loss for words.

how could you even describe him?

"not six four?" cole offered, not even close to offended. almost cocky about it, somehow. he ran his tongue along the edges of his teeth, gave you a grin.

you shook your head. "not six four," you agreed. you twirled your finger in the air, motioning for him to turn around, his arms still in a t.

you now faced his back, became closely acquainted with the damp curls at the nape of his neck, with the practically pornographic indents in his shirt that marked his triceps.

"tall enough, though," he said into the air in front of him, snapping you out of your trace, cockiness oozing from his voice like blueberry syrup. "don't you think, love?"

you thanked every star there had ever been that he couldn't see you.

what could you say, here? what would be the normal thing to say?

"i think so, cole," you squeaked, trying not to let the smell of him so close make you dizzy. if you looked at his face, what would you see? what part of you would that heal?

you held the measure at one end of his full wingspan, pulled it all the way to his other outstretched hand. your fingertips just barely grazed the backs of his hands, only just a brush, and yet it felt like some private secret, like a stolen touch in an ancient ballroom.

you longed to run your hands across the planes of his shoulder blades, check for the wings you were sure you would find.

this golden boy would never have the ugly, jagged scars that you felt marred your own back. no, his wings would be bright and proud and every bit the wonder that he was. this beautiful angel boy would never know the grief and theft that you understood so personally.

"alive back there?" he said, a roughness to his voice that made you shiver.

you nodded although he wouldn't see it, finished your last measurements, cleared your throat, tapped the top of his spine once in finality.

he turned to you. face to face, his smile was so brutal you could have flinched.

"all done, love?" he asked, little more than a whisper. you couldn't stop your gaze from slipping to his mouth, if only for a second, maybe lingering on his full lips before snapping back to his shimmery eyes.

"all done," you repeated, low and heavy. "you should probably do your inseam." you forced a lightness into your tone to dissolve the tension you felt pressed between the two of you. "and don't embellish."

his smirk was nothing like the boys you'd had in the past. there was no trace of cruelty, only a cocky sort of satisfaction. a knowing. "i'd never lie to a pretty girl like you," he rasped. "and besides," he added. "embellishment's not necessary."

you bit back a nervous laugh, tried not to let your mind wander, tried not to wince at the word pretty in his voice ricocheting against your head.

then he was handing you back your tape measure, giving you a number with that smirk on his face.

and then the cockiness was gone, replaced by something soft.

his head tilted ever so slightly as he leaned forward, just an inch, angled his face to your neck before retreating back to meet your gaze again.

your face felt hot, your feet like someone had poured cement over the tops of your shoes.

"you smell nice," was all he said, ever the gentle observation.

you blinked at him, rubbed at your shoulder blades unconsciously. "thank you," you breathed.

all of a sudden he was glowing much too bright, like staring into the midday sun, just this mass of potential, so much potential without even a smidge of doubt.

this potential, his potential, there was no doubt that it would be realized, exceeded even. no doubt at all. beautiful golden angel boy. his wings were too much to bear, just now.

you mumbled an excuse to leave, rushed to gather your things, ignored the confused scrunch of his brow, nodded affirmation about your shopping appointment tomorrow, hurried out the door with a shy goodbye. so rushed, so shy, you missed the way longing invaded his gaze as he opened his front door for you, watched you get into your car and drive away.

you hated the way slow, burning tears ran down your cheeks as you drove, the kind that hang at your jaw and feel like they must leave some kind of mark behind - some kind of ugly scalded scar.

and you weren't mad at him, that would be impossible. you weren't even jealous. you had known for years that you would never get your wings back, and it wouldn't even be the same if you did. to sew them back in would be so painful, so traumatic. so no, you weren't jealous.

it hurt, then, it hurt so terribly to want someone so, so different, someone so much better. you felt as if you would never deserve to bask in the glow of his attention, to hear what his voice sounded like when it was drenched in syrupy sleep, to know what his perfect mouth would feel like on your collarbone.

you went to sleep with a phantom ache. you went to sleep sad.

the next morning was better.

you were at arber's, laying out a couple of options for him to wear to a casual sponsorship event he was attending later.

after your usual catching up while you sorted through some of his shirts, his voice adopted an airy sort of inquiry.

"so," he began, sitting and leaning back against the wall, his elbows resting on his knees. "how's coley? 's he being nice to you?"

you scrunched up your face, laying one shirt down on top of some dark brown trousers. "'course he's being nice to me," you said. "don't think he's got a mean bone in his body."

"alright," arber relented. "you bein' nice to him, then?"

"yeah." you met his eyes, couldn't shake the worry in your tone. "why? did he say something 'bout me being mean?"

you knew the smugness on arber's face all too well. a set up. it made you roll your eyes, throw a balled up t-shirt at him.

he laughed. "i knew it," he said. "since day one. since before day one, actually."

"shut up, bear," you grumbled.

"i'm just excited for you," he defended, still in that teasing tone. "been a while since you've had a crush, eh?"

in reality, you hadn't really had a crush since your fall from grace. since that demon from your past had left you like you were nothing, like you were a pointless chore.

you grabbed a couple pairs of sneakers. "whatever," you said, tried not to sound defeated.

"what does that mean?"

"crushes are meaningless," you said.

"crushes are fun," arber corrected you.

you scoffed. "it's basically painful for me to be around him."

"fuck." arber threw a sock at you. "so you really like him, then." he shrugged to himself. "i called it."

"how could you have possibly called this?" you asked, genuinely, holding a baseball cap next to a sneaker to see if the shades of navy matched. "cole is, like, the opposite of my usual type."

arber laughed again. "and what good has your usual type ever done you?"

you rolled your eyes, despite that fact being absurdly true. "you know you count as part of that demographic, right?"

"with me being the obvious exception," he amended. "as i'm not a sadistic asshole."

you finished laying out his options, stepped back.

"i like the navy one," arber said immediately.

you were nodding already. "i knew you would."

he made to stand up. "so, you seeing him today?"

"we're shopping," you said, taking a breath.

"sounds fun," arber tried. you lack of a response was notable.

"i'm scared," you whispered eventually. "he's just so..."

no words seemed to do him justice.

"good?" arber offered, half shrugging a massive shoulder.

maybe that word did.

"wanna know something?" he asked, slowly draping his arms behind your head and pulling you into a hug. you relaxed into his familiar embrace.

"what?" you said into his chest.

"you are, too."

you carried your friend's words with you like a talisman as you mentally prepared to see cole again.

and when you arrived at your agreed meeting spot, like a vision, he was there, waving at you. and no preparation would have been enough, you realized, as his easy kind of beauty would stay breathtaking no matter how long you knew him.

his hair curled into his face as he pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head, drawing your gaze to the slope of his nose, the symmetry of his high cheekbones.

you rubbed at your shoulder blades and waved back at him. "hey," you said when he was in front of you.

"you came," he said, his voice laced with such pleasantness you could taste the sugar of it on your tongue.

"of course i did," you sing-songed, knowing you had had a conversation like this with him before.

"well, i'm happy i get to see you," he replied as you began to walk side by side. "where to first?"

so you went shopping with your client, and as you did, you couldn't help but recognize how cole had this way of making you feel like showing up was all you ever needed to do.

like the phantom weight of your wings was gone, like they had never been there, because the only you he knew was the one standing in front of him right now.

and that you seemed perfectly enough for him.

every time you held up a shirt to his frame, every time he met your gaze, each accidental brush of a touch - it all felt like something you had dreamed up.

"can i ask you a question, love?" he asked at one point as you both entered a store that specialized in sneakers.

you nodded.

"how come you always wear..." he trailed off, opting instead to gesture to your daily uniform of well fitting jeans and a flawlessly ironed button down.

"how come the stylist isn't more stylish?" you asked, a teasing smile beginning to come free.

"not necessarily." cole shrugged. "you always wear the same thing. just wonderin' if there's a reason."

your heart fluttered at the idea of him observing something about you and wanting to understand the reasons why.

you quickly realized it was probably important to him, from an employer standpoint, to understand his stylist's clothing decisions, and the fluttering wilted.

you looked away. "because it's not about me," you said, picking up a unique looking pair from a shelf.

when you turned to show him, his confused expression startled you. it looked so genuine on him.

"it has to be, sometimes, right?"

no, you wanted to tell him, it's all so much easier when it's not about me. when it's not about what i want. please don't make me think about what i want.

"yeah," you said instead, less than convincing, "right."

and the day continued, successfully, if you said so yourself, as you got a better sense of what cole actually liked to wear. unfortunately, you also got a better sense of who cole was, and that was very much not helping in your desire to stop wanting him.

how his laugh came so often, and still so truly. how his smile never dimmed, a glow that seemed to permeate the thick thorns around your heart. how he asked you more questions about yourself than maybe anyone.

when you suggested a darker color, so as not bring attention away from his eyes, he asked, "where did you learn that?"

and he would listen so intently as you explained how color theory was one of the first things you learned in university.

and he would say, "that must be why you wear red shoes a lot, then. to match with your undertones."

and you would nod and try to hide your blush before it began to match your patent red slingbacks.

and then later he said, "i didn't know you went to university, love. what did you think of it?"

and you would feel embarrassed but still compelled to say, "i didn't finish it." because lying to him about that seemed cruel, stupid, petty. because lying to him seemed impossible.

and he would say, "but what did you think of it?" with no trace of judgement or expectation and you almost didn't ever remember what it was like to have wings, what your fall from grace was like, what that searing blade felt like on your back.

so a smile that was beautiful because it was true would grace your mouth as you told him, "i loved it." and it would feel so deliriously liberating to tell someone that. for someone else to know that you really had loved school, and that dropping out hadn't been what you wanted but what you needed.

and that while you were so, so grateful for what you were doing now, there was a part of you that was so utterly glutted with rage at the fact that someone had taken that from you.

that someone had broken you so critically and completely that something you loved had morphed into something you couldn't manage, something that would only break you more.

and that every day was another day closer to healing, another day closer to being okay with the fact that the past had already happened.

and cole would smile just because you were smiling.

later on, towards the end of your excursion, when he held up a positively dreadful hat that matched definitively nothing, you couldn't help but laugh.

and if your eyes weren't shut you would have seen how something sparkled in his eyes like rippling water.

"c'mon," he pleaded. "it's perfect."

"it's definitely something," you conceded, hating the hat but loving the way he seemed to love it.

"please, love," he begged, and you didn't even know why he was asking you, as it was his money, and at the end of the day, his wardrobe.

you didn't mind the tone his voice had taken on, though, if you admitted it to yourself. he made pleading sound so pretty.

"how about this?" you offered. "we can do a 'one for me, one for you' rule." you met his excited gaze. "to make sure we balance what i think is right and what you want."

"one for me, and one for you," he repeated.

you nodded. "almost like we're working together on an art project, or something."

he laughed, and it was glittery. "but i'm the art project," he responded, delighted at the metaphor.

you wanted to tell him that he was a masterpiece.

the following weekend marked the first preseason game that you would be styling him for.

very early the morning of, you drove over, having already met with arber and gotten him squared away.

"don't you dare make him look better than me," arber warned you on your way out.

you rolled your eyes. "good luck today, bear," you called over your shoulder.

"i'm serious! no playing favorites just because you want to fu-"

you shut the door before he could finish his sentence.

now, here you were, pulling pieces from cole's closet as he sat on the edge of his bed.

"what are you feeling like today?" you asked him as you thumbed through jackets. "brown or black?"

"i'm feeling like that light purple tie over there," cole replied immediately, pointing to the one he was talking about and not answering your question.

you shook your head. "well, we'll do one for me," you said as you grabbed a beautiful soft brown suit, "and one for you," you finished as you plucked the purple tie from its holder.

you completed his look together and then waited in the kitchen for him to change.

you heard his footsteps behind you, causing you to turn. "well," his rough voice asked, "what do you think?"

seeing him made you feel like the wind had been knocked out of you.

but there was something almost sinisterly personal about seeing him in clothes you had styled him in, a collaboration of his likes and your knowledge, a combination of him and you, right in front of you.

just as you had imagined, the soft brown complimented his coloring beautifully, the purple adding the perfect pop of spontaneity.

would it be like this every time? would he always feel like best thing you had ever done?

"trying to take your silence as a compliment, love," he joked, and you scolded yourself that he had even gone a second without knowing how beautiful he looked.

you approached him, then, reached up to adjust his collar, one of the first times you had willingly and unnecessarily thrust yourself into his personal space. which he noticed, by his sudden intake of breath, the way his chest rose and fell.

"look so handsome, cole," you told him honestly.

and you'd tell him a thousand times if he kept looking at you like this, like you were the sweetest thing he'd ever seen. like you were unscarred. or maybe that you were scarred, but that you were sweet anyway, like a just-over-ripe end of summer plum, the kind whose dark juice dribbles down your chin at first bite.

"thanks to you, love," he breathed, his voice a little short.

you dusted off his shoulders, relished in the sculpted muscle you felt under your palms. "you're a job well done, then," you said, and you loved the way his eyes warmed at your words, at the way you could physically see the effect you had on him, the way he wore his desire so shamelessly.

oh, to be shameless. you weren't there, not just yet. couldn't yet meet him at a shameless middle.

but as you left him to do any final preparations before his game, you couldn't help but feel that you were gliding, slowly, but absolutely, towards that meeting.

that feeling was strengthened that weekend, the last weekend before the real season began. you were scheduled to style both arber and cole for a country music festival in toronto.

for the last two years, you had styled arber for this event, as it was one of his favorite weekends of the summer.

it was one of your favorite events to style, too, as you rarely got to lean into a more western, almost cinematic sort of look.

it would be your first time thinking about this event from the perspective of two different clients.

arber's side was easy. he already had a favorite cowboy hat, a refusal to wear boots, an insistence on sneakers. it was only a question of colors, of brands to satisfy sponsorships, of what flannel shirt to rip the sleeves off of.

"and you're sure you don't want to come?" arber asked, ever the inclusive best friend.

"'m sure, bear," you said, although part of you wanted to come. something was holding you back though, something you didn't like very much. a fear of being a burden? a fear of feeling alone, surrounded by thousands? something like that.

arber knew you well, though.

"i'll see you at the festival," he said as you left him to get ready.

"what?" you asked, confused.

you could hear his smugness even though your back was turned. "know coley's going to ask the same thing and you're going to go all gooey-eyed. 'of course i'll come, cole,'" he said, doing a dreadful imitation of your voice at the end, "anything for you!"

you were happy he couldn't see your vengeful flush, your embarrassment at how accurate his statement had been.

anything for you was echoing around your brain when you showed up to cole's house, made your bow past him extra bashful, made his presence seem extra indulgent. being around him today smelled like brownies, like chocolate, like fudge that gets stuck on your teeth. it was rich. and it felt a little shameless.

you handed him a container with a grilled cheese you had made that morning. "'s your off day, right?" you explained. "just don't tell your trainer."

and maybe somebody else would have looked at you with expectation, maybe someone else would have thought what else will you do for me?

but cole's gaze was so genuine it melted you away. "for me, love?" he asked, and you could sighed at how happy he was in that moment. how easy it was for him to be happy. how it still felt so lovely to make him happy, despite the ease.

"of course for you," you said, willing nonchalance into your tone, even though that couldn't be farther from the truth. you began to walk to the closet. "now, about today's event-"

his hand grasped your wrist, ever so gently, like you were some kind of precious porcelain doll. like to disturb your beauty would be a malevolent crime. like he would lock himself up if he did.

his barely there touch stopped you where you stood. "thank you," he breathed, some kind of meaning twisted up in his words that was beyond you.

and you wanted to laugh nervously, wave him off, mutter something about how it was just a grilled cheese, for god's sake, how it didn't mean anything.

but lying to cole caufield had always felt like an impossible ask. so of course what you ended up saying was, "anything for you."

and of course you wanted to bang your head against his beautiful wallpapered wall after you said it. you could hear arber's grumble of a laugh in the back of your head.

if you had been focused on cole's face, then, you would have seen how the heat in his eyes burned like embers, how his jaw worked at your words.

but you were already opening his closet, the place in his house that was quickly becoming your safe space. "about today," you began, forcing the squeak out of your voice. "how do you feel about standing out a bit?"

"as in...." he said, an easy smile on his face like he was just happy to listen to you talk.

"as in full western," you answered, hope dripping from your tone like granulated sugar.

he looked at you with a teasing skepticism.

"please?" you asked, barely noting how his eyes darkened, if only for a second. "please let me dress you up, coley?"

you knew you had him. and you were right, but to a greater degree than you realized.

"dress me up, then, love," he conceded, leaning against the doorframe.

your smile was nothing short of triumphant. when was the last time you had felt triumph?

"one for me," you sing-songed as you placed a pair of cowboy boots at his feet like an offering, setting the tone of the final look immediately.

"and one for me," he said, soft, picking out the hat you had been going to choose anyways. something told you he knew this, which made your blush begin to creep up your neck and past your ears.

so you went spar for spar, picking out pieces until you the final look of your dreams was laid out in front of him.

you left him to get changed, but as you passed him in the doorway, you rubbed gently at his shoulder. "you're too good to me, cole," you said, in a joking tone, but you meant every word. "letting me win."

he exhaled and relaxed into your comfortable touch. "like it when you win," he said.

and what could you even say to that? so you didn't say anything, went to wait for him in the kitchen. everything felt warm. what a delicious pleasure, to have someone say they were rooting for you. suddenly being a professional athlete made a lot of sense to you.

"'m glad i let you dress me up," he said as he walked in, adjusting his hat. "i think standing out might be exactly what i need before the season starts."

and when he stood in front of you, a vision of western silhouettes and muted denim colorways, a pop of red here and there, you could have clapped yourself on the back. he looked like a truly wonderful combination of a trashy airport romance novel and a luxury magazine editorial.

his embroidered denim button down strained at his thick biceps and shoulders, his shorts the same sort of tense around his thighs.

you clasped your hands behind your back to release some of the pressure that had begun to coil up inside of you like a mechanical snake.

you didn't think you would ever get used to seeing the fruits of your imagination painted across cole's body. it was a special kind of intimacy. a torturous one, almost.

you approached him again, pulled at his sleeves in a teasing sort of way. "a little small in the arms, yeah? maybe around the thigh, too?"

he tilted his head, his gaze filled with cocky knowing. "and who took the measurements, love?"

you had entered an unknown land, the boundaries of which were unclear, blurry. it fizzed at the edges with danger.

accordingly, he brought a hand to your chin and held your jaw gently. "starting to think you did it on purpose," he breathed, something rough and raspy beginning to invade his tone.

"i'd never do such a thing," you defended, emboldened by his hand, by his courage. your hands were again clasped behind your back. don't cross a line, you thought to yourself. don't.

"i'd be willing to forgive you," cole started, his trailing off meaning there would be a condition.

his thumb had begun to trace feather-light circles on your jaw.

"if?" you asked.

"if you come with me today," he said plainly, openly, easily. always easily.

"done," you said, almost as easily. even if you knew there would be hell to pay when arber saw you. even if you knew the line between work and pleasure was becoming very, very thin. perhaps transparent.

as you drove back to your place to change into something a bit more suited for a festival, it dawned on you that you hadn't thought about your wings at all, hadn't rubbed at your shoulders the whole time you had been with cole that day. not even once.

with him, you didn't need to be the beautiful, smart prodigy practically overflowing with potential. you didn't need wings.

you just needed to show up. so, that's what you did.

you showed up for him at the festival, very notably not in your everyday uniform, instead in a vintage sundress you had been dying to wear and your boots, a unique pair of accent sunglasses pushed up into your hair.

it felt good to wear something different, to wear something a little more out there, to wear a bit of you. you were not used to giving the world a bit more of yourself, having felt before that perhaps the world didn't need any more of you.

you glanced at your phone, approached the spot that arber suggested you meet the group at, quickly recognized the clothes you had put together this morning.

you hugged arber first, elbowed him lightly when he whispered, "change your mind, did you?" into your ear.

you smiled, rolled your eyes, but you could see in his gaze that he was just happy that you had decided to come, that whatever you had going on with cole was enough to bring you here.

he introduced you to some of his other teammates, their respective friends and partners, everyone being especially welcoming.

some of his other teammates joked about how they might be needing your stylistic help soon, too, and their girlfriends might have shared a look with you and mouthed "please" with a friendly grin.

you could feel cole's eyes on you the entire time you stood there, could have touched the side of your face to check if his gaze had seared a burn into your skin.

finally you turned to face him, were starkly unprepared for the vulnerable desire you found lurking in his eyes like some kind of mythical beast.

you couldn't help but smile at him, tilted your head, asking him a silent question.

can i trust what i'm seeing? how do i know my vision isn't a liar, like everything else?

"you came," he said to you, then, like he had so many times before.

"of course i did," you said, like you had so many times back to him.

you adjusted his hat on his head, straightened it, tilted it down slightly, creating a bubble-like barrier between the two of you and everyone else.

you picked up right where you left off, on the fringes of danger. danger you felt as he only barely touched your fingertips with his, not quite holding hands, almost.

he thumbed the hem of your dress between his fingers. "wear something pretty for me, love?" his gaze flared across your figure like high beams, getting stuck on your exposed legs like sediment, coating your bare shoulders thickly, like brownie batter.

who are you dressing for, that's what you had asked him at the beginning.

"'cause you look it," he clarified, raspy, "just so pretty."

and you blushed strawberry pink, let the group lead you to the main stage, settled into the space as the artist came on.

set after set, you couldn't remember the last time you had existed so carelessly, so gently, so shamelessly.

there were no thoughts of the past, of wings that once were, of anything but dancing with your best friend, laughing with his teammates, singing along with their girlfriends like you had known them your whole life.

you felt so light, so present, so perfect.

light on your feet, almost floating, each time your gaze caught on cole's, immediately tugging a smile free on your face, the kind you felt in your ears, in your jaw, in your squinting eyes.

present, absolutely no where else, each time you heard cole's starburst of a laugh, the sound ringing through the air and your head like a bell, like a lullaby.

perfect as anything, each ghost of a touch you both stole from each other throughout the afternoon. making an excuse for hair in your face, for a bustling crowd, for having a bit to drink, for a thread that had come free. excuses that were unnecessary, that nobody believed anyways.

late into the afternoon, you pressed a hand to your collarbone, felt a glow of heat under your palm. you bit your lip, found cole next to you. "'m gonna get burned," you said to him, shaking your head like you had said a joke, like you had said can't take me anywhere, hm?

but he only started to unbutton his shirt, making your eyes widen more as he revealed more and more skin.

"what are you doing?" you whispered, a sort of pleading tone injected into your voice. something like please don't do this to me.

something that he heard, must have, given the smirk that crept onto his face at your flush, at your voice. "gentle, pretty girl," he soothed, now entirely shirtless, entirely distracting. he handed his shirt to you. "can't have you burning up."

you tried not to be too terribly touched. you took the sunglasses off of your face and handed them to him. "one for you, one for me," you said with a smile as you traded.

"one for you, one for me," he repeated like a child repeats a prayer, doused in a desperate kind of faith. he pushed your sunglasses up onto his head, making his soft hair stick up in a million different directions.

you let him hold your drink as you shouldered on his shirt, fastened the top two buttons, tried not to get dizzy at the scent of him all over you.

just then, your favorite artist in the lineup came onstage to begin their set, cheers from the crowd loud and warm.

you faced the stage now, away from cole, clapping your hands, flushed with excitement.

a flush that only deepened as the music began, as you felt cole behind you, as he wrapped his arms around your front and swayed with you to the rhythm, something twangy and groovy.

"'s this okay?" he whispered, resting his chin between your head and shoulder, his mouth so close to your ear that you could feel the heat of his breath.

maybe okay wasn't the right word for this. this being his thick arms resting lazily around your hips, his bare broad chest against your back like puzzle pieces slotted together.

you nodded, regardless, had a hard time focusing on anything but the feeling of him, so close. "'s okay," you breathed.

maybe okay wasn't the right word.

"can you see?" you asked, hesitantly relaxing back into his chest, draping yourself across him like some kind of quilt.

you felt his laugh more than heard it, the shiver it evoked making it's way up to your hairline.

"tall enough, remember, love?" he whispered.

you snaked one of your hands back, ran your nails lightly across his neck, his curls. "more than enough," you said, not really referring to his height, more so just him. how this beautiful golden angel boy was more than enough.

the night fell like blackberry jam, thick and sweet and like home. you lost track of time as you slouched deeper against cole's body, as he began to hold you up a bit as you grew tired, continuing to sway to the music all the time. you had never been more comfortable. nothing had ever been easier.

too soon the night was over. you felt the residue of the sun on your face like a blush, the weight of the day in your legs. too soon you were hugging your new friends goodbye, handing your number out to the ones who were interesting in perhaps becoming a client, a few of the girls saying they better be seeing you at games, soon.

too soon you were at the passenger door of arber's truck, as he had arranged to drive you home after you told him you were coming.

cole walked you to the door, opened it for you, held your warm hand as you hopped into the lifted truck.

"you have everything for the road trip?" you asked him, referring to the outfits you had picked out together for him to wear for his series of away games.

he nodded, something flickering in his eyes. did he feel the shadow of you against him as you did him? was he cold like you were, without his exhales on your collarbone?

"travel safe," you said, your words brimming with meaning. i'll miss you went unsaid, but not unrecognized.

"the gala when i get back, yeah?" he said, almost drowsy.

"i've already got some ideas," you said, and the thought brought a smile to your face.

something dangerous flashed across his face, making your stomach flutter, your heart tense. "i've got some ideas too, pretty girl."

and then arber got into the driver's seat, said goodbye to cole, who returned the sentiment.

"i'm really happy you came," he said to you as the car started. i'll miss you, too.

you had a dreamy smile on your face as arber drove away.

"i like your friends," you said.

"they like you," he returned before smirking. "some more than others."

you rolled your eyes, but it was no use. hope bubbled up in you like caramelizing sugar. "does it bother you?" you asked then, squinting, realizing you hadn't really asked your best friend what he thought.

"does what bother me?" he asked. "you coming out to things you never would have a couple months ago?"

you went to cut him off, but he pressed on.

"or that you smile more now than i've seen in years? or that you seem to be genuinely enjoying your work?"

he wasn't lying, wasn't wrong, wasn't even critical.

you had always felt that you connected with arber because he, too, walked with the distinct slouch of a fallen angel, of a being, once heavenly, now devoid. the same evidence of struggle, of lack.

it dawned on you then that you had never judged him for it, had only appreciated him more. maybe it was time to extend yourself the same appreciation, the same forgiveness.

it was arber who had extended a hand to you in that place of darkness, but it had been you who had taken it. it had been you who had gotten up.

you had always been the most wonderful team. the kind of trust existed between you that perhaps one only offers their first love.

"you know i just want to see you happy, don't you?" he said, a bit softer than his typical biting humor. "if that's him, i could never be bothered."

"i do know that," you said, and you meant it. "i don't tell you enough how much i appreciate you, bear. but i do."

how lucky you felt to know you had him by your side no matter what, that no matter what happened, you had your best friend. to know that he had you, too.

you made sure he was all squared away for his trip, gave him a hug goodbye, told him to text you when he landed.

and such began the week of time away.

a week you filled with planning, preparations, shopping, lists, moodboards, drafting articles that (probably) no one would read but you wrote them anyway.

a week you wore things that didn't match, clashing colors and aesthetics, frilly silk skirts and sneakers, jerseys and business trousers. just to see how it would feel, just because you could. shameless.

no matter how busy you kept, you missed cole. you missed the way your stomach would flip when he would open his front door, the way he smelled after he showered, you missed his firework of a laugh and the way his voice would get raspy with use.

it was hard to leave off at the point that you did - seemingly on the precipice of the point of no return.

part of you hated that you had left everything so uncertain still. every possibility of what he felt, what would happen, it twisted around you like a lovesick tornado. what would happen when he returned?

would you have to build up to everything again? would he forget what you felt like against him? would he even want you to remind him?

or maybe he would kiss you immediately, like you so desired. as he was away, your workdays became interrupted by visions of his lips, phantom hands on your hips, your fingers on his throat, his in your hair.

visions that left you a little breathless. a little flushed. but wanting, above all else. they left you wanting.

so you were a little scared, a little tense, but mostly full of want when you arrived at cole's for the first time since he'd arrived home after a successful string of games on the road. the week had gone by fast, but also painfully slowly.

today you planned to prepare for the gala tomorrow for one of his teammate's charities, a black tie event, sure to be a fun night to style.

today you wore a dress, and that said enough.

when cole opened the door your breath caught. beautiful golden angel boy.

he looked so soft, then. the angle of his jaw, of his cheekbones, perfectly distilled by his halo-like messy hair, his flushed face, almost girlish nose. you missed seeing his face in front of you, noticing everything about him.

what a privilege, to be close enough to cole caufield to notice things about him.

"after you, love," he said, stepping back and allowing you though. you bowed your head as you walked past him, a plume of his scent dissolving around your face.

how many times had you had this same interaction? had it always felt so electric? had the air been vibrating like this the whole time?

you made your way to his room, to his closet, just like always, catching up, asking him questions about his trip.

yes, he was a little tired, and yes, the team looked good, though he wished he had finished a couple more of his net-front chances. yes, arber did well, even coach said so.

and he asked you about your week as you began to lay out some options, occasionally referring to your clipboard of notes, moodboards, ideas.

yes, you had a nice week. yes, you ate well, really. you wrote a bit, and he could read the articles, if he really wanted to, which he insisted that he did.

"and how do you feel about a three-piece?" you asked.

"that depends," cole began, taking up his usual post, leaning on the doorframe. "how do you think i would look in a three-piece?"

you felt a blush begin to creep up your neck. "remember when you said you dressed for yourself?" you said in a teasing tone.

"still do, love," he defended. "just got a panel to consult, first, these days."

you exhaled. "you know i think you look lovely in anything, cole," you said. it had always felt like a crime, the prospect of lying to him.

you could feel the heat of his gaze on you as you panned through his dress shirts, his vests, his ties. you could feel the sparks of his eyes ignite into flames, flames that licked at your legs and tensed the coil inside of you.

was his halo beginning to singe the ends of his hair?

"did i ask you yet if you missed me?" he said, lazy but attentive, his eyes sharp.

you approached him, held a couple of ties up to his face. a forest green, a baby blue, a burnt orange. "you didn't ask me," you said, your gaze glancing to meet his between swatches. "do you really need to?"

the air fizzed and sparked. you could practically smell smoke.

you looked back to the ties, scrunched up your face in thought before nodding. "one for me," you began, referring to the baby blue tie you had chosen.

"and one for me," cole breathed out, all in one motion grasping your face in his rough hands and capturing your lips with his. his kiss tasted like a home-cooked meal after a semester away at university. it smelled like sugar and smoke and cinnamon and felt like floating, like flying.

it was rushed and just so desperate and rough but also gentle. there had never been anyone, after all, who had been as gentle with you as cole had, as if he was holding your delicate, bleeding heart in his hands, taking care of it for you until you were ready to house it again.

you dropped whatever you were holding, wrapped your arms behind his neck, your way of saying, closer, please. your way of saying finally.

he walked you backwards until you were the one leaning against the doorframe, the plane of it pressing between your shoulder blades. you twisted one hand in his hair, pulling gently.

he moaned into your mouth, making you smile into his as he brought one hand to brace against the frame, just next to your hip, the other still resting on the side of your face.

"please, love," he said, little more than a whimper. "i need you."

pressing himself against you using his leverage, you could feel exactly how desperate he was, just how much he had missed you, too. was there any better feeling than bringing an angel to his knees?

your sly smile turned mocking, your voice dripping in desire, still. "stop whining," you breathed.

the way he immediately did as you said, without question, eyes wide and glossed in waiting for your next move, it felt shockingly beautiful.

you had always been plagued by the struggle of a fallen angel. but here, now, with cole, you didn't feel like an angel at all. he made you feel like a god. and what good did shame ever do any god?

you gripped his shirt and pulled him out of the doorway, away from the closet, the place that had become something like a cathedral for both of you.

a cathedral for which the only accepted sacrifice was the sacrifice of shame, left bloody and dead on an altar welded from want.

you pushed him back onto his bed, the one you had walked by so many times, had barely allowed yourself to look at.

he leaned back with a grunt, put one elbow behind him and the other on his thigh, seemingly waiting patiently for you. ever so patient. always had been.

you sunk down to your knees, rested your elbows on his, now spread apart, looked up at him through your lashes, tilting your head as he brought one hand from his thigh to your head, lacing it through your hair. your mouth watered.

"can i suck you off, coley, please?" you begged as his grip on your hair tightened. "want to feel you in my mouth so bad, baby, can i?"

he whimpered at your words, was already nodding feverishly, moving clothes aside so you had better access to him.

you bit your lip as you pulled him out, felt the weight of him in your hands, hot and thick and -

"told you i didn't have to lie about measurements." cole's joking words broke you from a trance of heavy seriousness. you looked up at him, your delicate grip pumping him up and down, and found him to be smiling, a big, toothy, goofy one.

you couldn't help but laugh, a real laugh, one that had you flushing and shaking your head.

this, this was the real privilege. to be on your knees in front of him and still have him making you laugh. you knew then that you could be awkward and messy and still be beautiful, perhaps even because of your awkwardness and messiness. you could be a beast of desire and want and still be worthy of his smile.

then you took him in your mouth, moved your head slowly up and down, hollowing out your cheeks, promptly catching the laugh in his throat and urging it into an almost anguished moan instead.

he held your hair to the side, tilted his head back when you took him all the way to the back of your throat.

"fuck, love," he groaned, the curse guttural on his typically clean tongue. "bein' so perfect for me. feels so good."

his words spurred you on, pushed the pace of your rhythm, made you rake your nails down his thigh.

you felt his overstimulated shudder in your teeth as he grew impossibly harder in your mouth.

his breaths grew short and choppy, his moans whiny as his thighs tensed under your hand.

you pulled yourself off of him, spit running down your chin, your eyes watery and lashes clinging together as you pumped him with your hand.

he met your gaze and promptly moaned. "look so pretty, love, gonna cum if you keep lookin' at me," he whined.

and so the dirty, messy, and awkward god grew bashful at the angel's words.

"want you to cum for me, coley," you pressed, running a thumb over his sensitive tip. "please?"

something dark flickered across his gaze like lightning in a storm, powerful and inevitable. in a motion he pulled you to your feet, pushed your legs apart so you could straddle his hips, your dress pooling around you both, your center precariously and dangerously against his hard cock.

"hate sayin' no to you, pretty girl," he said, your faces again just a breath apart. "but gotta fuck you first, yeah? been dreaming about it."

now it was your turn to nod feverishly, to lift your hips up gently and let him angle himself underneath you. the seconds felt gelatinous. you both took a breath.

a breath you both released as you sank down onto him that first time, his coming out strangled and yours full of relief.

you both paused for a moment, you adjusting to him and he to you.

his stretch made you dizzy, a pull you could feel in your throat, in your fingertips. he mumbled something incoherent that dissolved into a groan as you began to move your hips up and down, each push deeper than the last.

you rested one hand on his lower stomach, grounding you, the other coming to gently grasp at his throat, squeezing only the tiniest bit. "like you've been dreaming, baby?" you asked, only a little teasing, only because you knew he could take it.

he moaned louder, nodded, dug his hands into your hips, began to meet you thrust for thrust.

something possessed you then, something hazy and hot, something had you moving your hand from his throat to his cheeks, clutching at his face in a way that forced his mouth open. open enough for you drop your head, almost like you were going to kiss him again, but instead letting spit drop from your mouth into his.

you could have sighed at how easily he swallowed, how his eyes were brimming with lust and something softer when he opened them and found you, there.

his eyes made you whimper, which made him thrust up into you harder, a little faster, somehow deeper.

"so wet for me, love, fuck," he bit out, dragging a slow hand from your hip to your bottom lip, sticky with spit. "take it," he moaned, an order but also a plea. "so good, love, take it."

you let him push his fingers into your mouth, let him rest them there, your eyes rolling back at the feeling of him everywhere inside of you. so deep you felt him in your stomach, the back of your throat. your heart, most of all.

you became aware of the hair sticking to the back of your neck with sweat, the pleasant evidence of effort that burned in your thighs, the croak of wear that had begun to tear at your voice.

you built up a rhythm, quick and hard. you rolled your hips back against him, hitting a new, perfect spot inside of you, making you clench tighter around him.

"feel you close," he rasped, "where do you need me?"

and you were back to that day, so far away, now, taking measurements. where do you need me? he had asked.

here, present you thought, here and now.

you tugged his hand from your mouth and led him to your folds, showing him exactly how to touch you. exactly what you needed.

his touch jolted through you, an electric current of desire, bringing you brutally close to your high as he continued to rub at your clit, thrust into you hard.

"fuck, coley," you whined, "'m so close for you. gonna cum all over your cock, baby. stretchin' me so perfect."

the muscles of his stomach clenched under your fingertips, his shoulders tense under your other palm as your motions up and down became messier, his thrusts sloppier, both of your breathing choppy.

"please cum for me, pretty girl," he breathed. "make me feel so good, yeah?" he grunted, almost a pained noise. "need you."

you did as told, his words and the beautiful vulnerability in his eyes sending right over the precipice of pleasure you had been teetering on. you came with a shuddering moan, collapsing into cole's damp chest, triggering his own orgasm, warm and raspy.

draped over him like a velvet curtain, you felt the rise and fall of his chest slowly become regular again against your cheek. the air around you was warm and stained with the enormity of your want, realized.

you tilted your head up to gaze at him, found him glowing, flushed, his hair fussed. he looked so beautiful.

"you look like an angel," you said, your voice all but a rasp as it escaped your worn-out throat.

his laugh was like honey and lemon. he shook his head, traced your jaw with his fingertips. "just a human, love," he said, a whisper. your eyelids grew heavy, your voice lazy. too lazy to stop the sweet smile that tugged at your mouth. one that he mirrored.

"me too," you breathed. he pressed his swollen lips to the top of your head.

and with that, with a sigh of relief, you finally laid your wings to rest, in the graveyard of things that had never been.

fin.

#hockey #nhl #hockey smut #nhl smut #cole caufield #cole caufield smut #cole caufield x reader #cole caufield imagine #jack hughes smut #jack hughes #trevor zegras smut #trevor zegras #quinn hughes #smut #jack hughes x reader #montreal canadiens #arber xhekaj smut #arber xhekaj

[nicole-alt-delete]

It was a hot summer day in Hawkins and the kids had dragged them into helping with some game once again. Eddie was more than thrilled to help, Robin had managed to escape with Nancy on a "supply run" and Steve was currently taking orders from Max, the only one of them who'd remembered to say please.

Eddie wasn't really sure what the end goal was but it seemed like they were one step away from LARPing- just changed the name so Max and El would still play. He was helping Will by carving this big fuck-all stick into a cane for him when the gravel behind him crunched under someone's feet, and a second later Steve was saying "Hey, I'm borrowing this- Thanks-" Not stopping for the answer before Eddie felt a tug at his back pocket.

He instantly whipped around, spluttering, "Absolutely not-"  and before Steve could even take a step he was fiercely gripping his black bandana taut between them like the world's saddest game of tug of war. Steve loosened his grip a little, making a point of not tugging on it or ripping it, just looking confused as he waited for an explanation.

Eddie blushed for a moment, realizing the position he'd put himself in, how protective he got over a little piece of fabric. He stammers for a second, "I- you can't just- I need that man,"

Steve quirks an eyebrow at him, clueless. "What do you mean you need it? It's been in your pocket every day and I've only seen you actually wear it once. C'mon just for today- the girls don't have any hair ties and I need to put my hair up, it's killing me,"

He sighs a little, fully aware there's nothing reasonable he could say to Steve here. He very much cannot tell him that he *needs* it just in case some hot guy walks by and happens to know what it means. That's ridiculous- especially when the guy he most wants to see it is the one tugging it away from him in the first place. Steve has no idea what it means and Eddie doesn't expect him to but it still drives him insane thinking that it could happen.

Alternatively, the idea of Steve putting his hair back with Eddie's bandana drives him a little insane too.

So he blushes, sighs, and lets go of it. Points at Steve firmly, "You better give that back Harrington, or I swear-"

Steve smiles and starts walking backwards with it, already rolling it up into a hairband as he cuts him off, "Yeah, I know Eds, you can hold it against me forever, promise,"

He runs off back to the other kids and Eddie shakes his head at him, flustered and annoyed, and forgetting himself until Will clears his throat behind him.

He doesn't say anything but he's smiling and making this little face as he looks away from Eddie, like he knows something.

"So uh. The stick?"

"Right- yes- stick- cane- it's a cane for a mighty wizard, let's go,"

--

He didn't think he'd notice it so much, but the empty feeling in his pocket is driving him crazy. He'd been wearing that stupid thing since he learned it was a thing people do- a stolen trip up to the city on a bus he snuck onto, a weekend as a runaway before he sucked it up and went back home.

Someone had called him queer and he turned expecting a fight only to see a group of freaks who stood out more than himself. They had smiled and asking him why he was all alone, and been worried. One wanted to make sure Eddie hadn't been kicked out. Another wrapped her scarf around him, and before he knew it he was in the back of a gay bar with people he'd never met and felt like he could tell anything to.

The idea of proudly wearing something that singled him out- but only to the right people- made his hart light up. It was like a new language, like thieves' cant, something secret and magic.

He'd spent hours asking about colors and being confused and rightfully embarrassed by more than a few of the answers. Some sounded better than others, some made his face flush. At the end of the day he felt better than he had in ages and he had the courage to go back home to Wayne.

Before he got back on a bus he stopped into a second hand shop and grabbed the first black bandana he could find. He debated the whole ride home which side to put it on. When he walked back up to the trailer door ready to apologize, it hung proudly out of his back left.

--

Eddie had let Steve wear it home and it was killing him, but they had stayed out late and he half forgot anyways, and Steve's hair did look pretty cute pushed back like that. Steve had promised to give it back anyways, and Eddie trusted him fully.

He just also really, really, really wanted it back as soon as possible.

So for once he got up before noon (barely- just after eleven,)  and made his way to Family Video and hopped Steve had left it in his car or something so that he could get it back then and there.

What he wasn't expecting was to walk in and see Steve bent over behind the counter with the damn thing hanging out of his right pocket, as if he had any goddamn idea what that meant.

Eddie nearly had a heart attack and was thankful the store was empty like it always was so he could sprint over, jump the counter and yank the thing out of his pocket immediately.

"What do you think you're doing wearing it like that?!"

Steve had barely registered the jingle from the door, let alone Eddie launching himself at him, and was thoroughly surprised to say the least, nearly knocking over a display as he reacted.

"Hey!  Jesus man- you can't be- what's the big deal??? That's exactly how you wear it all the time- I was just keeping it safe til I saw you again,"

He stared at Eddie properly confused, a little on guard still from how suddenly he had leapt over and how worked up he seemed.

Eddie took a deep breath and sighed, folding the bandana up in his hands and just holding it for a moment, debating what to tell Steve.

After a second Steve makes this little head movement like 'well? go on?' clearly waiting for an explanation and Eddie rolls his eyes and sighs.

"It's- Look, Stevie, you can't wear it like that, you're not- I mean it's. It's like- a symbol, okay?"

Steve leans on the counter and frowns, confused.

"A symbol?"

"Yes- yeah, like- like those little cross necklaces moms wear or Dustin's star wars shirts. They're symbols....for the same kind of people to pick up on,"

He struggles with the words, trying hard to insinuate just enough without giving it all away, still hesitantly afraid of Steve's reaction.

But Steve just looks thoughtful. Nodding a little, putting a finger to his lip as the gears turn.

"So- okay, what's it symbolize then?"

He'd been hoping Steve wouldn't make it that far.

"It's- uh. It's really not..."

Steve stares, "Man I'm not gonna judge you- just- why's it such a big deal that I can't wear it like that too?"

Eddie can't help but laugh, "If anyone who knows what it means saw YOU with it- you would- no, you'd set yourself on fire I'm sure of it,"

He shakes his head, holding the bandana tighter in his fists.

Steve only frowns though, "Eds, what's it mean? If you don't tell me I'll just get my own and wear it until someone else does,"

Eddie looks mildly terrified by the idea but laughs at it all the same. "No- No, god do not do that Harrington-"

"Then tell me,"

"I can't, it's really-"

"Eddie, I'm gonna steal it back,"

And he does, reaches for the bandana in his hands as Eddie pulls away, the two of them starting to bicker and wrestle for it, each equally stubborn until the point that Steve actually does manage to grab it.

The tension gets to him and Eddie can't help it anymore, he just blurts, "It means I'm gay, Steve!"

It makes Steve pause and Eddie uses the moment to grab it back and quickly shove it in his back pocket again, blushing furiously and hoping Steve doesn't take it too badly.

Steve's mouth opens a little to say something in response, but the door jingles and his head snaps to it, Eddie instantly hitting the floor because he's still behind the counter where he most certainly should not be.

A man comes in and asks where the new releases are and Steve happily helps him, leaving Eddie plenty of time to crawl out from behind the counter and sneak out. He almost gets away with it too, but the door opens again, jingles and Steve twists his head.

"Eddie, wait- We're not done- I'll talk to you about this later!"

Eddie doesn't look back at him as he runs out the door past Robin who had been bringing lunch back for her and Steve. She tries to greet him but he just blurts "Gotta go, Buckley," and darts past.

If he'd looked back he would have noticed how red Steve's face was. Part 2

#Nico's writing #ficlet #steddie #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #st4 #Stranger Things #i found this in my wip docs and realized i forgot about it??? #so i figured i'd post this much and see if it convinces me to finish part 2 👀 #also uh i did not beta read this so #be kind

[bugsbenefit]

currently rewatching s3 and honestly... yeah no wonder Mike and Will had to be across the country in s4 for the plot to work they're too fucking good with this. even in s3 where they play a lot of plot support for El they're actually CARRYING the groups actions

s3 actually makes the difference between Mike and Will and the rest of the party Extremely clear. El, Max, and Lucas are lost at first, ranging from not taking Billy too seriously or just not knowing what to do

Mike and Will are the only one's with first hand experience. Will was possessed by the MF (Henry) and Mike sat next to him like this for over two days straight. Will has the intel and Mike has seen what possession looks and acts like up close. they KNOW what they're doing in s3 which is why they take the threat of Billy and the MF so serious so fast. even El has to ask them how possession works and how you can identify it. because despite having powers she still has no experience with this

that experience also gets highlighted in situations like the pool, where Max wants to wait and see what happens with Billy to know if he's flayed but Mike and Will know they have to act first

they know you don't wait until someone activates. the entire population of Hawkins lab was killed last time someone activated and they both witnessed it first hand. but the other's weren't there for that and don't really know how to deal with the current situation

also, Mike and Will are fully on the same page regarding the supernatural, which is why they're so efficient. Will gives his insight on the MF (Henry) and Mike immediately jumps to thinking of a proactive plan. the sauna idea took him less than 5 seconds

they would have completely fucked the plot of s4 over had they been in Hawkins i'm so serious. s3 literally shows us exactly why they couldn't be there:

Will can tell when Henry gets close (which s4 even confirms he is still able to do). had he been around in s4 he could've warned everyone if Vecna got to Max. no wondering when he's going to get you. Will would Know and he'd Tell you. they wouldn't lose time looking for Vecna in the Creel house, they wouldn't lose time scrambling to get headphones last minute

Mike is incredibly good at adapting prior knowledge to new situations which the Hakwins crew was Abysmal at. Mike can apply chemistry facts from years ago when it's convenient and can convert Will's possession into a working possession-test for Billy. but in s4 we have to suffer watching the crew remember that fire was the UD's weakness and then never use it on anyone but Vecna himself. a bottle of hairspray and a lighter could have gotten them out of being strangled by vines but they only had the clunky molotovs for Vecna. their planning methods directly contradict Mike's approach to plans

also. both of them act proactively. everyone at Hawkins lab died because they didn't stop Will in advance and s3 shows they learned from that. i honestly can't see a way for them to be on board with an "i'll be bait" plan. they directly argue against waiting for him to take action multiple times in s3. they KNOW that's how people die because it's too late when he gets here

and best of all. MIKE LITERALLY CALLS OUT WHY THE S4 PLAN DIDN'T WORK. word for word. you could paste this into s4 and pretend it's Mike berating them for the plan they just came up with

s4 makes it super clear that Mike and Will being absent is BAD with their friends directly commenting on how they're not here to help, and the last shot of the season being them returning to town speaks for itself, but s3 also directly shows us why. based on how they've dealt with the UD's/MF's return just six months before s4 shows how they would have approached something like s4. and at this point the two of them are too good of a team with too much experience to let them be around for it

(which would in universe most likely be Henry waiting for both of them to be out of the picture and out of universe be the writers putting them on the gay roadtrip in the weed van to be able to set up endgame s5 in peace without having them be in the way)

#byler #mike wheeler #will byers #those two are genuinely a scary team #even while on fighting terms they can push that away immediately and gang up on all their other friends for having bad ideas #i genuinely can't wait for the s3 problem solving byler dynamic to come back tenfold in s5

[venusjaynie]

Patch Me Up

Billy Hargrove x fem!reader

summary: Billy, your (secret) boyfriend, shows up at your house (which is really Steve's house) after a bad fight with Neil, and Steve has never been more confused.

CW: hurt/comfort, minor injury detail, mentions of abuse (it's very brief!!), lots of fluff, billy is probably OOC but I do not care 🫶🫶, Steve wants to put his and Billy's differences aside for your sake.

Word count: 2k

2:45am

Someone's at the door. They knock once, and you don't make a move to answer. But then the bell rings, and they knock again so, with a groan, you get out of bed and walk past Steve's room to see if he's still asleep, or if he was also woken up by the disturbance from downstairs. Luckily, he's asleep.

You make your way down the stairs of the house and, for safety, you grab Steve's nail bat from its place beside the front door. Slowly, you unlock the door and open it just enough so that you can see whoever is on the other side of it.

It's Billy.

You open the door fully and drop the bat as quietly as you can. Billy looks like he's been dragged to hell and back, to put it simply. For a second, you're confused as to why he's here at 2:45 on a Wednesday morning, but his eyes shine with unshed tears, and the big red mark on his cheek speaks for itself.

"Hey, pretty girl, mind letting me in? I'm dying out here." You nod and step out of the way with nothing but worry for him casting over your features. You notice that he's limping a little, but you don't mention it.

"God, Billy, what the hell happened to you?" You know it was Neil, but Billy had insisted that things with his dad were getting better. He laughs half-heartedly, not meeting your eye.

"I, uh, let Max go over to the Byers to stay over with her friend Ellie or El, or something, 'cause Neil and Susan were supposed to go away for a few nights. But they ended up coming home early, and when he found out he told me to go pick her up. But I told him I didn't want to disturb Mrs byers, and he didn't take to that too kindly." He huffs out another humourless chuckle, but you can hear him choking up as he speaks.

"Oh, babe..." You start, but you're at a loss for words. You've seen Billy a few times after a bad run-in with his dad, but there's blood coming from his nose and he's cradling his right elbow in his hand, and not to mention his left eye is swelling slightly. "C'mere, let me clean you up a bit."

As you go to take Billy's hand to lead him to the downstairs bathroom you can hear Steve's floorboards creak just above you, and his footsteps echo through the hall upstairs.

"Hello?" Steve calls out from the top of the stairs.

"Hey, Stevie, it's just me." You reply.

"Who were you talking to?" You can hear him making his way down the stairs. "Hargrove? Is that you?"

"Don't get too excited, Harrington." Steve rolls his eyes at Billy's sarcasm.

"Why are you in my house, man? What-" He stops himself as he reaches the bottom of the stairs and can see Billy's face in the light, letting out a soft 'oh'.

Neither of them speak for a moment or two, and you take that as your cue to get back to the previous task as hand.

"Billy, let's get you fixed up." He nods silently and follows you to the bathroom. You tell him to sit down on the lid of the toilet, and you open the cupboard under the sink to grab the first aid kit. You rummage around a bit, until you remember that Steve took it last week after Will had fallen off his bike and gashed a pretty nasty cut into his knee.

“I need to run to the living room to grab the first aid kit, okay?” You ask gently, already heading toward the door, but Billy grabs your hand before you can go any further.

“No, please don’t leave.”

“Baby, it’s only for a second. I’ll be right back.” He shakes his head.

“Can’t you just yell for Harrington to get it? I just don’t think I can be alone right now.” He speaks so quietly, more so than you’ve ever heard him do before, and there's something about the rawness and honesty in his eyes that makes you never want to leave him alone again.

“Steve?” You shout, feeling bad about disturbing your friend again.

“Yeah? What’s up?” He quickly walks back down the stairs and comes into view as he stands in the doorframe of the bathroom.

“Could you grab the first aid kit from the living room, please?” He nods without a word, and emerges a few minutes later with the little, green plastic box.

“Thank you. Sorry for waking you up, you can go back to bed now. promise we won’t disturb you again.” Steve just laughs lightly and shakes his head.

“Nah, I’m up now. No chance of me getting back to sleep for at least 2 hours. Might as well do something useful with my time.” He heads in the direction of the kitchen, and you close the door of the bathroom behind him.

Walking back over to billy, who is sat silently on the counter of the bathroom, you’re able to truly take in how beaten up he looks. His left eye is swelling more and more, and the red mark on his cheek has almost turned purple.

“Oh, Billy.” You slowly reach out to touch his face, but he flinches back slightly at the notion of your hand coming into contact with his cheek.

"Shit- sorry." He apologises quickly and takes your outstretched hand in his.

"You don't have to be sorry, it's not your fault." You give his hand a reassuring squeeze and get to patching him up. You clean up his bloody nose, which he scrunches up when the alcohol rub you use on his cheek stings a bit, and you apologise quietly. You find a bandage and you fashion a make-shift sling. It's definitely nothing special, but it's better than letting his arm hang free without support.

You catch sight of the shift in his features when he goes to adjust his position on the counter. His hand shoots up to hold onto his chest, and you immediately worry for the state of his bones and internal organs.

"Billy?" He looks up at you. "Can you take your shirt off?" He smirks.

"You tryna get me naked? Could've just said so, baby." He laughs under his breath, and despite the situation, you crack a small smile. He removes his shirt, and you can't help the short intake of breathe of breath that you take. The skin on Billy's chest is red and blue and black and purple and the more you examine it the worse it looks. It's horrible.

"Oh my god." You breathe. You look through the first aid kit for some kind of oil or ointment that you could use to treat the discolouring on his chest, but it was to no avail. "I don't think I have anything that can help that. I'm sorry, Billy. I'm so sorry." You aren't really apologising for your lack of treatment products. You're apologising because this is real. He has to live life like this, and there's nothing you can do about it.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. It's not your fault. You didn't know I was coming, yeah?" You nod. "And besides, you've done more than enough, sweetheart. More than you ever needed to, alright? I'm okay, I swear." You know he's lying. He's not okay. But for once, you choose to not argue back. You honestly don't have the strength.

The rest of his casualties aren't your forte, unfortunately. Bruises and a potentially sprained ankle- which he promises 'isn't even that bad'- aren't things that you can tend to, but you think some ice to his ankle will do him some good, and maybe provide some pain relief.

"Hey, Billy, let's go to the living room, 'kay?" He nods, and stands up, and you put your arm around his waist to support him. He kisses your temple and starts to limp out of the bathroom to make his way to the living room.

Steve is sitting on the sofa when you enter with Billy, and he makes a move to leave.

"I'll give you guys some privacy." He nods at Billy as he leaves, and you truthfully don't want him to go. He's your best friend, and you could use some grounding after what you've done tonight. You don't say anything in protest to his statement though, however, Billy does.

"Harrington? If you wanna stay down here, I don't mind, really." Billy looks almost as shocked as you do, as if he doesn't register what he's saying until the words have already flown out of his mouth and he can't take them back.

"Oh, uh, okay. You sure, man?" Steve makes a move to re-enter the living room.

"Don't make me change my mind, dude." Steve laughs lightly as Billy's answer, and walks back into the living room, closely followed by you and Billy.

You sit down on the couch, Billy following you, and Steve takes his previous seat. You have to admit, it's a little awkward at first. You're the one making conversation and trying to tie them both in, but it's difficult, what with knowing about their past rivalry and all.

You sigh, before saying,

"Alright look, I know you two have your differences, but I'm just as uncomfortable as you both. So, if we're gonna sit here tonight, is there any chance you could just make up? For my sake at least?"

It's a while before either of them speak, and to no one's surprise, it's Steve.

"Yes, yeah okay. I think I can do that."

"Thank you." You smile at him, and wait hopefully for Billy to agree too.

"Fine." He mumbles after a few minutes. You know you won't get much more out of him than that, so you're just glad he cooperated.

"Thanks, Billy." He nods, not saying anything more. "I'm gonna get you some ice for your ankle." Another nod, this time accompanied by a smile.

You leave the room, cringing internally at the thought of leaving Billy alone with Steve. You just hope they can put their differences aside, because it would make your situation a hell of a lot less difficult.

After retrieving the ice from the bottom drawer of the freezer, which took a great deal of effort because you had to clear out the contents of the drawer and then fit it all back in, you head back to living room, silently praying the 2 boys haven't killed each other in your absence. However, as you walk to the door, you hear them before you see them. Billy's laughing, and so is Steve. 'What the hell?' you think to yourself, bemused to say the least.

"Jesus, Harrington, that's fucking hilarious. You know, you're better company than I thought."

"What's gotten into you two, huh?" You chuckle as you saunter in and retake your seat, leaning forward to set the ice on the coffee table, and then prop Billy's ankle on the bag.

"Nothin', sweetheart. This guy's not too bad to have around. He's funnier than I remember." As you lean back against the sofa, Billy stretches his good arm around your shoulders, and you settle against him.

"It's good that the two of you are getting along, for my sake, anyway." Billy doesn't say much, but hums in acknowledgement, while Steve just nods.

It's quiet for a little while longer, until Steve clears his throat somewhat awkwardly.

"Uh, Hargrove- Billy, even- fuck, that feels weird. Yeah, anyway, um, if you ever need a place to stay whenever, you know, this happens, you can always come here." Steve doesn't look at Billy when he talks, but if he did he'd see the way Billy's eyes soften ever so slightly, the way his shoulders relax into the plush couch behind him, the way his eyes go a little glossy.

"Thanks, Steve." Billy replies, before continuing with, "Yeah, that feels weird as shit, man." earning a laugh from both you and Steve.

After a moment, Billy yawns, and his eyes look droopier than they did a minute ago, so you decide now would be a good time for the two of you to head to bed.

"Alright, Stevie, we're gonna head to bed." You stand up, helping Billy do the same.

"Me too." Steve follows in suit, standing and stretching his arms over his head. The three of you head toward the stairs, with Steve behind you and Billy to make sure he can help if the latter falls.

As you're climbing the stairs, however, Steve has something on his mind.

"Hey, kid, any chance you're making pancakes tomorrow morning?" You turn around to face Steve and you don't think you've ever seen him look more hopeful in your life. "Billy, I swear to God, she makes the best pancakes in the world."

Billy smiles and says, "Well, sweetheart, I gotta try 'em. I'm somewhat of a pancake connoisseur, if you will." You roll your eyes.

"Ugh, fine. Yes, Steve, I will make my famous pancakes." You say, and you swear Steve looks like he could jump for joy. "But, you have to make spaghetti tomorrow night."

"Done."

When you reach the top of you stairs, you bid Steve goodnight, and make your way back to your room, but this time with Billy in tow, and you tell him to sit on the bed. Grabbing him one of his shirts that you stole a month ago, you help him out of his other one, careful not to disturb the fine bandaging you had previously carried out on his arm, and you gently pull the new one over his head, guiding his arms through it too. He opts for no pants, just boxers, and you're too tired to object, not that you mind either way, and the two of you lie back in your bed.

"Thanks for takin' care of me." Billy mumbled into your hair.

"Thanks for letting me." You reply, making Billy smile. And for the first time in a long while, Billy sleeps.

#billy hargrove #stranger things #billy hargove x reader #billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove fluff #jayne writes #billy hargrove fanfiction

[ripcupid]

giggly soft sex w Ellie Williams 🫶 in need of some fluff before I go back to college 🙃

⋆｡°‧★ wake up call

➤(a/n) Sorry for being gone for a month, ik you said "before you go back to college" and you're probably back in college by now. this is short and sweet cause I didn't keep one idea and this took me a while while dealing with other things like finals.

➤made this with farm Ellie in mind yk her sleep outfit so imagine that. also, I'm so bad at ending a fic, it's embarrassing. 3 days till my 2nd year of writing smut.

You’re trying to let Ellie sleep knowing just how hard she worked on the farm. But you couldn’t help but notice how pretty she looks as she tosses and turns under the blanket. You sneak into the bed, crawling on top of her. She twists under the sudden weight, groaning in her light sleep, mumbling something you can’t understand. You giggle, leaning down to scatter gentle kisses on her face, whispering her name with each peck. 

“What are you doing,” Ellie murmurs, her eyes still closed as she turns her head the other way trying to get comfortable again. 

“Nothing,” you whisper sweetly as you continue to pepper her face with kisses. You kiss the corner of her lips ever so softly. Ellie settles under you, trying to go back to sleep. You huff and roll your eyes, groaning in frustration. 

“Can you please wake up,” you whisper into her ear making your voice sound whiny just to mess with her, “I missed you so much.” You lay your head on her shoulder, nuzzling your face in her neck. Ellie wraps her arms loosely around you, holding you close. You sit up slightly to kiss Ellie, giggling against her lips as she struggles to kiss back. “You can barely keep your eyes open, El,” you mutter as you softly kiss her jaw moving to her neck.

“I wonder why.” You pop up to glare at her making Ellie chuckle. “You’re very distracting, baby." She rests her hands on your hips as you go back to kissing her neck. 

“You love it,” you retort as you feel her stir making you smirk against her skin. Her fingers trace lazy circles on your hips, squeezing your hips when you start to suck on her neck. As she moans softly, you continue to explore her neck with your lips and tongue, savoring the taste of her skin. 

“You missed me that much?” Ellie chuckles, her voice low and husky. You pull back slightly, looking into her eyes with a grin. "Maybe," you reply playfully before leaning in to kiss her deeply, determined to make her forget about sleep. Ellie sits up against the pillows, accepting the fact she’s not going to sleep anytime soon. Her hands travel up your back, pulling you closer as she returns the kiss. She pushes up your shirt, breaking the kiss momentarily as she pulls it over your head and tosses it aside, kissing down your neck to your chest. You giggle at her eagerness as she pulls down the straps of your bra. 

Ellie kisses your neck, muttering something about you being annoying and interrupting her sleep as her hands brush over your nipples, making you crave more of her touch. "So pretty, such a pretty girl," she whispers as you run your finger through her hair, cupping her face to make her look at you. You arch your back, pressing your chest closer to hers, silently begging for her to continue. "Stop teasing me," You huff, unable to contain our desire any longer.

“I’m not teasing, love,” She chuckles softly, holding your hips. Her lips graze your neck as she moves down to kiss your collarbone, sucking gently on your skin. Her lips brush against your earlobe as she whispers, "Use your words, baby, and tell me what you want."

"I want you to keep touching like that," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. Ellie looks up at you with a mischievous grin, clearly enjoying the effect she's having on you. Her lips trail down to your collarbone, leaving a trail of soft kisses behind. "Like this?" she asks, her breath warm against your skin as she kneads your tits. You nod as she takes one nipple into her mouth, teasing it with her tongue while her hand massages the other. You let out a soft moan, your fingers tangling in her hair as she continues to suck and lick over the sensitive bud. As she switches to the other nipple, you can feel the wetness between your legs growing, aching for her to explore further.  

"You feel so good, El," you whisper, your breath coming in short gasps. Ellie pulls away, keeping her fingers on your nipples as her lips brush against yours. You can't help but moan as you feel her tongue slide over your bottom lip, teasing you. You wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her hair as you deepen the kiss. The heat between you two intensifies as your breathing becomes heavier. You can't help but grind softly against her lap as her hand moves down to your thigh, squeezing it gently. 

Ellie pulls away, leaning back against the headboard, her hands still resting on your thighs, stroking them lightly. Her chest heaving as she looks into your eyes, slowly trailing her hand down your stomach, stopping just above your underwear. "You want me to touch you here?" she says with a tilt of her head, her voice low and soft. You nod eagerly, unable to form words as she slips her hand between your thighs and inside your underwear. Your body shudders as Ellie’s fingers teasingly circle your clit. “How does that feel, love?” 

You hum in response, your eyes falling shut as you grind against the pads of her fingers. "Come on, angel, use your words, let me hear how good it feels." she urges, her voice sweet, dripping with desire -- only for you. 

You take a deep breath and manage to gasp out, “It feels good,” you whine as her fingers speed up making you grab her tattooed wrist, “so good, Ellie.”  

“Yeah?” Ellie whispers, her other hand caressing your cheeks, pecking you lightly on the lips. You drop your head onto her shoulder, nuzzling into her neck. She presses her lips to the top of your head, muttering sweet nothing into your hair. "You want more?" she asks softly. 

You nod eagerly, feeling a shiver run down your spine at the sound of her voice. She slips her fingers into your cunt making you whine against her neck. You clutch onto her shirt, your hips bucking against her hand as she slides her fingers in and out of your with ease.

"Please, don't stop," you moan, your body and voice trembling with pleasure. She continues to fuck you with her fingers, curling them just right to hit that sweet spot inside of you. "I won't, sweetheart," Ellie whispers while resting her cheek against your head, stroking your back with her free hand. You let out a strained moan as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your clit rubbing against the palm of her hand. The pleasure is almost unbearable and you can feel your body tense up as you approach orgasm. "Such a good girl," Ellie whispers, her voice low and soothing as she continues to play with you, her fingers moving faster and more urgently. You grip onto Ellie's arm tightly, your jaw hanging open only able to whimper and whine.

You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your moans becoming louder and more desperate. "I don't think I can hold on much longer," Ellie smirks and leans in close to your ear, her breath hot against your skin. "Don't worry, baby," she whispers. "I've got you." You let out a final cry of pleasure as you reach your peak. Your breath comes out in short gasps as you ride out the waves of pleasure, feeling completely spent and satisfied. Your thighs tremble as you collapse against Ellie's chest.

She slips her fingers out of your underwear, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. As you come down from your high, you pull away from Ellie's neck as you catch your breath. Ellie grins triumphantly and kisses you deeply, her hands still stroking your legs gently. You giggle against her lips before sliding off her lap, "I'll let you go to sleep now," you say, standing up and heading to the bathroom but not before leaning in to give you another quick kiss. Ellie chuckles and watches you go, laying back on the bed and closing her eyes. 

#ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x you #ellie williams #ellie x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x y/n #the last of us smut #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #the last of us #tlou smut #tlou 2 #tlou fanfiction #tlou #tlou part 2 #tlou part ii #smut #ellie fluff

[fairlyang]

El perdedor 🕷️

finding your ex at the club

w/c: 2.7K

pairing: ex!miguel x latina!reader

tags: rebound, dancing, a lil gay if you squint, shaking ass, jealousy, delulu ex, slowly folding

notes: i posted this shit back in june and when I was reposting everything I really didn’t wanna repost this one but I think there’s more latinas here entonces para ustedes mis amores <3 (only thing I changed from this was the pov bc it was so bad LMAO but it was my 4th fic of mig)

You roll your eyes at your new fling's friend after making a nasty joke of a girl who just walked past you. He takes notice and tells you to stop being so uptight. "Then stop being such a dick." You say and he snorts.

You roll your eyes and look away from him. Having to deal with this bullshit just for some mediocre dick with alright dirty talk? Probably one of my worst decisions to date.

Next to breaking up with Miguel.... But your ego will never let you admit that you miss him and his won't either, clearly since it's been two months. But you couldn't wait around to find out so you’ve been fooling around a bit. Nothing serious since you’re not in the right headspace for that and Daniel knows that. Just here for the drinks, alright sex, and decent conversations.

You’re in line to get into a club but as it's almost midnight it's the hot hour of everyone wanting to get wasted. "Why can't we go to another club? This line is so fucking long-" a girl from fling's friend group asks.

"This is the only one with incredible strippe-"

You groan and shake your head. "Don't you have a girlfriend?"

"It's none of your business actua-"

"You two didn't break up though, Y/n kinda has a point....." Daniel speaks up and he pretends to cry.

"Whah whah- so what? She thinks she can still be friends with her ex while being with me? Then I'll just have my own fun." He says with a smirk and you have the most disgusted look on your face ever.

The other girl does as well and just shakes her head. The lines finally starts moving and at a fast pace actually until it stops with the people in front of you showing the bouncers their ids. You get your out from your bra making the annoying asshole smirk. "Fuck off."

He holds up his hands in defense and Daniel moves to stand next to you. "Soon as we're in there he's gonna be out of our hands alright?" He whispers and you just nod.

The people in front of you finally show them and you step forward. You give it to the bouncer to the left and he looks at it and feels it for a few seconds before handing it back and nods. You move forward, putting it in your phone case, and wait for Daniel to get his checked and you step into the first set of doors. You both wait for the other two and you can instantly smell all the sweat and alcohol. Amazing.

They both finally join you and walk ahead of you, not caring you guys waited. You give Daniel a look and he shrugs. Asshole goes straight to where there are indeed strippers and home girl was nowhere to be seen. That was fast.

"So drinks?" Daniel asks and you nod following him to the main bar.

You walk through people just standing around by booths and table and other who are just making out. You make it to the bar and Daniel says something you can't hear because of the loud techno with pop music. The bartender takes out two shot glasses and fills them to the very top. Daniel picks them both up and gives you yours.

You raise it up and bring it to your mouth and swallow it fast. You gag a little and he laughs. "You fine with just one?"

"For now yeah I think." You say and put the glass back on the counter nodding to the bartender.

You turn back around and watch as Daniel is looking over at a booth almost near the entrance. How can he even see that far.....

You squint but know you have fucked up eye sight so you just stop. "Oh shit- wait here I think I just recognized someone-" he says and starts walking away.

You blink and call out after him, "you're leaving me like that??"

"I'll make it up to you." He turns to look at you then walks away making you roll your eyes. The audacity.

You let out a sigh and shake your head. Dickhead. You turn back to the bar and take a seat. "Another shot please and can you put it on my friend's tab?" You ask with a slight smirk.

He laughs and nods taking out a clean shot glass and once again filling it to the brim. You smile and grab it, then swallow it faster than the first. You don't gag too bad this time and put the glass down. Then your head snaps to the speakers within hearing one singular second of Gasolina by daddy yankee.

You make your way to the dance floor and move in towards the middle where there's a group of girls just dancing with each other. You smile and just dance next to them when one of them grabs your hand and dances with you. You laugh and move your hips to the beat while singing the lyrics with the other girls. All the girls are dancing with each other and taking turns with each other.

You ended up swapping places with another girl and she had the brightest smile while shaking her ass a bit on you. Which was fine because who doesn't like dancing and shaking ass with the girlies to this song?

Zúmbale mambo pa' que mi gata prenda lo' motore'

Zúmbale mambo pa' que mi gata prenda lo' motore'

Zúmbale mambo pa' que mi gata prenda lo' motore'

Que se preparen que lo que viene es pa' que le den (duro)

The first girl you were with found you again and stands in front of you and grinds against you to the beat. You held her hips and she grabs your other hand to hold it. So cute.

You switch off with her, dancing on her then shaking a bit of ass on her, and she hypes you up, screaming and smacking it playfully. You turn around and start laughing which makes her do so as well. "Girl give me your number immediately!!" She screams and you nod as she passes me her phone.

"I love making new girlfriends cuando sale gasolina. Todas las hermosas salen y se tan divertido!" She screams and you nod. (I love making new girlfriends when gasolina plays. All the gorgeous girls come out and it's so much fun!)

"Rally up all the baddies with just one song." You scream back and she laughs.

"I'm Y/n by the way!"

"I'm Rosa! I gotta go but we should do this again!! You're an incredible dancing partner!" She exclaims and you grin.

"Anytime!!" You say and wave goodbye as she leaves.

You dance to the beat of the chorus of Perra by tokischa with the leftover girlies as you all scream the lyrics and one girl even got on all floors and crawled her way to her friend. You all screamed and you just burst out laughing until your stomach starts hurting and you have to stop to breathe.

Then you hear El Perdedor by Maluma start playing and you get excited because you love singing it.

Baby (¿Pa' qué me estás llamando?)

"Pa que me estás llamando???" You scream with the two other girls that were left from the little circle.

Dime si es verdad que él te trae loca

(Y ¿ahora es que te importa?) ¿Ah si?

You sing the lyrics but notice the girls already left so there's no more circle or a triangle and now you’re just surrounded by couples. Unfortunate.

Aún no lo creo, que en tan poco tiempo y ya besas otra boca

(De mala) ¿Qué?

You listen to the lyrics and widen your eyes. Seems a little too close to home....

Dime cuál fue mi error

Si mi único delito solo fue amarte

Hoy soy el perdedor (Bebé, no)

Él me ha robado el truco para enamorarte

You feel a pit in your stomach suddenly unsure of what it is until you feel a person's presence standing behind you. Their hands grabs your hips bringing you closer to them and you widen your eyes.

Y dime que me amas, aunque sea mentira

No puedo negarte, los celos me están matando

They move your hair from the left side of your face and sing the lyrics to you. oh shit-

Y dile en su cara que aún por mí suspiras

Me parte el alma no volver a verte

"Al fin me toca verte...." He whispers directly in your ear leaving shivers down your spine and arms. (Finally I get to see you)

Y dime que me amas, aunque sea mentira

Sabes que no hay nadie como yo

Y dile en su cara que aún por mí suspiras

No te engañes, no me olvidarás

"I know for you it isn't a lie... and have you told your new man you haven't forgotten about me?" He whispers as those lines play, leaving the lightest kisses below your ear. You pull away slightly pushing him off and turn to look at him.

Está claro que tú mereces alguien mejor

"And you're gonna tell me I deserve better than you?" You ask with a scoff staring right at Miguel O'hara's eyes making him smirk.

No sé en qué fallé, pero no hay otro como yo

Oye ma', dame otra oportunidad

Bien sabes no soy así, solo tú me haces rogar

Mirándome al espejo y peleando con mi ego

Si entre más me alejo, más te pienso

"There's no better than me sweetheart. But you really are the only one I'll ever beg for..." he says his hands slipping to your waist and bringing you as close to him as as possible.

"And I have been fighting my ego trying not to contact you...." he says and you can't believe he's just repeating the lyrics for you and them making complete sense to your situation.

Dime cuál fue mi error

Si mi único delito solo fue amarte

Hoy soy el perdedor

Él me ha robado el truco para enamorarte

He whispers the lyrics softly to you then gets kind of annoyed at the last line making you snort.

Y dime que me amas, aunque sea mentira

No puedo negarte, los celos me están matando

Y dile en su cara que aún por mí suspiras

Me parte el alma no volver a verte

"You have no fucking idea how badly the jealousy has been eating me alive..." he growls and you bite your lip.

"So did you tell him about me?" He asks with a smirk on his face.

Y dime que me amas, aunque sea mentira

Sabes que no hay nadie como yo

Y dile en su cara que aún por mí suspiras

No te engañes, no me olvidarás

"Don't be st-stupid-" you say, not even able to keep a straight face or manage to keep the eye contact.

He scoffs and lifts your chin with two fingers to look up at him. Jesus.

Y si te da la gana de volver a verme

Estaré disponible para contestarte

Y yo sé que, por tu parte, no sientes rencores

Quizás mañana vuelvas pa' que te enamore (More')

"I'm actually not sure if you regret it.. but I know deep down you do." He says and you bite your tongue.

"Y envés de mañana," he whispers and moves his face to leave wet kisses on your neck, "tal ves quieres que te enamores de mi otra ves, ahorita mismo." (And instead of tomorrow, maybe you want to fall in love with me again, right now.)

Cuando tomábamos, lo hacíamos

Fumábamos, y reíamos

Éramos dos locos sin saber pa' dónde íbamos

Pero son cosas del destino

Al pasar el tiempo, tú cogiste tu camino

"E-estas loco- no ha- no hables tonterías." You say as your breathing is suddenly all over the place. (Y-you're crazy- don't ta- don't talk nonsense)

He comes up and nibbles on your ear, his hands dangerously near your ass while yours are on his chest. 

Está claro que tú mereces alguien mejor

No sé en qué fallé, pero no hay otro como yo

Dime cuál fue mi error

Si mi único delito solo fue amarte

"Pues porque te pones tan nerviosa?" He whispers and you sigh. (Then why are you getting so nervous)

You feel like you can't even move but you’re not going to admit shit- you can't break that fucking easily.

Hoy soy el perdedor

Él me ha robado el truco para enamorarte

"Porque creo... que yo voy a ser el ganador. Ahora dime en donde está tu otro galán?" He pulls away and looks deep into your eyes. Fuck. (Because I think... that I'm going to be the winner. Now tell me where's your other hunk?)

"Just abandoned my ass- wait- MIGUEL- did you do something to him?!?" You mutter.

Y dime que me amas, aunque sea mentira

No puedo negarte, los celos me están matando

Y dile en su cara que aún por mí suspiras

Me parte el alma no volver a verte

"I'll answer your question if you tell me you love me." He says with a smirk making you groan.

"Miguel I'm not doing this shit with you right now-" you say trying to wiggle out of his grasp fast which you successfully do now trying your best to leave the dance floor.

But he catches up to you, grabs your arm and brings you close to him. Your back against his chest, your ass on his crotch. You bite your lip and shake your head. "Por que apenas vienes a encontrarme?" You look up at him and ask. (Why are you barely coming to find me?)

Y dime que me amas, aunque sea mentira

Sabes que no hay nadie como yo

Y dile en su cara que aún por mí suspiras

Que por mí suspiras, que no, que no, que no

Yo', baby

(Solo fue amarte) Y te hablo claro

He shifts uncomfortably for a second and looks around. "I haven't even been in our universe since the break up love...."

You turn to face him and widen your eyes. "Did something happen?" I ask with a worried expression.

¿Sabes qué?

Él no te hace el amor

No te trata bien

Y que yo fui el primero en tu vida

"I'm not telling you any more. I-I just didn't want to put your life at risk- and well I still don't." He says but it doesn't stop your heart beat from calming down.

"Y-you- can we leave?" You ask and he quickly nods. You hold onto his arm while you try to move past the crowds of people and to the exit.

You walk past the booths by the entrance and Danny was actually there- taking shots off some girl's tits. You roll your eyes and make a mental note to block his ass on everything. "So you really didn't do shit to him...." you mutter and he scoffs.

"You actually thought I did?" He responds sarcastically.

"You're insufferable." You say shaking your head trying to hide your smile.

You walk out the doors and you sigh. He takes the lead in walking you a couple blocks before he pulls up to an alleyway and you furrow your brows. He then makes sure no one is near and pushed a button on his watch so his suit can appear onto his skin. "Really? Instead of an Uber?" You tease and he rolls his eyes.

"Es más fácil." He says and motioning for you to step forward. (It’s easier)

"Claro! Lo que digas codo." You say laughing and holding onto him. (Of course! Whatever you say cheap-stake)

"Jump."

You do so and he suddenly has your legs wrapped around his waist by the side. "You know the drill cariño."

You nod and wrap your arms tightly around his neck. He swings you out and we're high up in the city. All the lights made the city look even prettier especially from up here. Though you never got use to it, the first few times you threw up after. You laugh at the memory and lean your head against his shoulder. You hear him sigh and you do so as well. You’ve missed him.

—————————

translations (lazy to drag em up)

Baby! (Why are you calling me?)

Tell me if it's true that he makes you crazy

(And what's important to you?)

I still can't believe that after such little time you're already kissing someone else

What the hell?

Tell me where I messed up

If my only error was loving you

Today I'm the loser

They've stolen my trick to make you fall in love

And tell me that you love me even if it's a lie

I can't deny you, this jealousy is killing me

And tell it to his face that you still breathe for me

My heart is splitting in two and I won't ever see you again

and tell me that you love me even if it's a lie

You can already see there is no one like me

and tell it to his face that you still breathe for me

Don't trick yourself, you know you won't ever forget me

It's clear that you deserve someone better

I don't know where I messed up but there is no one like me

Listen babe, give me another opportunity you know I'm not like this...you're the only one who can make me beg like this

Looking at myself in the mirror and fighting with my ego the further I get from you the more I think of you

Tell me where I messed up

If my only error was loving you

Today I'm the loser

They've stolen my trick to make you fall in love

And tell me that you love me even if it's a lie

I can't deny you, this jealousy is killing me

And tell it to his face that you still breathe for me

My heart is splitting in two and I won't ever see you again

And tell me that you love me even if it's a lie

You can already see that there isn't anyone like me

and tell it to his face, that you still breathe for me

Don't trick yourself, you won't ever forget me

and if that makes you want to come back to me

I'll be waiting to answer you

I know that for your part you don't feel any resentment

Maybe tomorrow you'll be back to fall in love

When we used to drink we smashed, we filmed it, and we watched it

We were two crazy people not knowing where we were going

But that is talking about destiny

As time went on you chose your path

It's clear that you deserve someone better

I don't know where I messed up

But there isn't anyone like me

Tell me what my mistake was

If my only error was to love you

Today I'm the loser

They've stolen the trick to make you fall in love

And tell me that you love me even if it is a lie

I can't deny you, the jealous is killing me

and tell it to his face, that you're still breathing for me

My heart is splitting in to, I won't ever see you again

and tell me that you love me even if it's a lie

You can already see that there is no one like me

and tell it to his face that you're still breathing for me

Because of my breaths, you're not, you're not

And you know what?

He doesn't make love to you, he doesn't treat you right, and I was the first man in your life

#miguel ohara #across the spiderverse #miguel o hara #miguel ohara imagine #miguel ohara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel ohara oneshot #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara x y/n #spiderman 2099

[coldninjaruins-blog]

Okay, unpopular opinion but I don't think if Will plans to fight Vecna Mike is going to go into overprotective mode saying things like "You can't do this" "I won't let you" or something similar. I think it's actually likely that Mike will be supportive (unless the plan is literally suicidal) or that Mike will even be part of the plan and help Will in some way. They will work together.

Mike is caring and protective of Will? Yes, he literally stayed by Will's side when Will was possessed, called the byers house because Will missed classes and went to check that everything was okay.

But Mike is not overprotective of Will and Will wouldn't want him to be either.

‘Mom, Lucas, Dustin, everyone. They all treat me like I’m a baby, like I’m gonna break like I can’t handle things on my own’.

But not Mike, never Mike.

And why is that? Because Mike trusts and knows Will, trusts him in every sense of the word.

Mike trusts Will so much it’s insane. Even when Will was possessed Mike still had faith in him.

He knew Will could help, and even when Max mentioned that he was a spy he didn't say "yeah, you're right, we can't trust him" but he came up with a plan.

He believes in Will's strength.

He believes in Will.

He trusts.

Will says Billy is activated? Then Max should get away from the fucking door right now.

Will says "Oh, no" at Rink-O mania? Obviously Mike gets up real quick from his seat and asks him what's wrong.

Will says El commissioned the paint? Then El commissioned the painting, no questions asked.

Will reminds him that he's the heart, tells him not to stop and to keep talking because he thinks it will help El? Then Mike won't stop and will continue talking.

Mike trusts Will.

Post inspired by this

#byler #they're a team <3 #mike wheeler #will byers #When they trust each other>>>>> #I honestly believe Mike would be the one to come up with the plan. #the right plan #mike wheeler appreciation #kinda

[pablitogavii]

Best friends little sister Pt. 3

Pablo got the picture in his inbox the same morning. His heart jumped as he read Vinicius' instructions while I was peacefully sleeping on his arm. I told Pedri I will sleep over at Masa's and stayed with Pablo after the game to properly celebrate the win.

The picture

"Fuck!" he said and I slowly woken up brushing the sleep from my eyes smiling at Pablo's face above mine. I moved in starting to kiss his neck but when he pulled away I looked at him in confusion.

"You have to go! Um..I have a physical today" he says and I was completely lost since last night he promised me the whole day in bed? Did he really forget about the physical???

"But it's Sunday Pablito???" you remind him but he said they scheduled him earlier and he needs to be ready quickly. With barely a peck did he leave the bed as I got ready and left back home..not knowing that will be the last kiss in awhile I will share with Pablo.

Pablo knew that if he as far as looked at you, the picture will leak and ruin everything..any chance of being with me in peace...his friendship with Pedri..and my relationship with your brother. He needed to push me away no matter how badly he craved being by my side..it was for the better for all!

For the next five days I tried reaching out to Pablo without success. If I texted him, he didn't reply. If I called it went straight to voice mail. Today I decided to go to training and catch him before he left the dressing room..I was desperate and worried why he was suddenly so cold towards me???

"Um Gavi..can I ask you something???" I saw him leaving with Frankie in shock to see me standing by the dressing room in my school uniform. He followed after me looking back worried that Pedri might see something. We went into the conference room and he put down the blinds.

"What are you doing here!? And during school hours!? Are you crazy!?" he said but I didn't even listen to a single word rushing and kissing him feverishly..it's what I needed for all these days!

Although kissing me back, he was quick to pull away and walk backwards away from me..I needed to know what was going on with him???

"God you're so needy!!! Can't you understand I'm done with you!!!???" Pablo yelled but it didn't matter what he said, I refused to believe that is the truth..it couldn't be because it was so sudden and with no explanation!!!

"P..Pablo..what happened? what did I do??" you say tears filling into your eyes as you tried getting closer but he once again stepped back..like he was running away from you.

"You're a kid and I satisfied my craving, vale! Now just leave me alone" he said and your heart shattered..you left home in tears and haven't stopped crying for the next two weeks.

Meanwhile Pablo never played worse in his life..missing the passes..not scoring since the last El Classico and arguing with everyone all the time. He felt defeated and angry first at himself for not telling Pedri on time which would make it imposible for Vini to threaten him like this. He messed it all up!

"Y/n is really going through something..wanna throw her a beach party tonight??" Pedri said and at the mention of my name Pablo looked up suddenly being interested. It was his fault you were "going through something" so the lest he can do is help. They invited everyone.

At home, you were working on an english project.,

"And they wanted to run away together because of forbidden love.." Jacobo talked but I was somewhere else wondering how could I be so stupid to believe only my heart..my head always told me it was wrong and I should have listened!!!

"Please like they really love each other!" you snarl at the boy who held a book and looked at you with raised eyebrows. Great! Now he thinks I'm some anti love lunatic! Well done!!!

"Sorry..I just think they don't even know each other that well to be able to love each other" I tried to explain but Jacobo was already in my face with his lips on mine kissing me deeply. What the fuck!??? I pulled away wiping my lips.

"What are you doing???" I say and he apologized starting to pack his books. I then sighed telling him it was alright to talk about it like adults.

"I'm so sorry..I just like you and being so close lately.." he said but I never thought about it like that. Yeah, we spend time together at school and were partners for this English project but it was nowhere near kissing one another.

"I'm just.." I start but then didn't even know what to answer next..I'm nothing..Pablo used me..that was all!!!

"with someone else?" Jacob asked

"yes..NO!..um I'm just not up for it" I say mumbling and he smiled nodding his head and taking mine. He kissed it gently before getting up and ready to leave.

"I understand..but I'll fight for you..that you should know" he said and I blushed while walking him to the front door. Pedri watched me from the kitchen smiling excited to see your reaction tonight at the party.

It felt good knowing someone else wants to fight for me..so why the hell were tears spilling down my cheeks again!? Will I forever belong to Pablo Gavi!!!???

"Hermanita!!!" Pedri called a few hours later and I groaned walking down just to have him put a blindfold onto my eyes.

"You know if you weren't my brother, this would constitute as kidnapping, right Pepi???" I say giggling and he told me to stay quiet while driving me to the beach. Drive wasn't long but i was very impatient so I kept bothering him.

"Alright, alright we're here! Stop whining finally!" he said walking me and I could smell the ocean already and my feet felt the warm sand..I smiled.

"Are we at the beach???" I ask and he slowly took off the blindfold as everyone yelled "SURPRISE!" and I jumped holding my hands on my mouth. I couldn't believe he did all this for me..I really had a special brother!!!

Everyone was there around the large bonfire..Rapha brought smores and Balde played music on his speaker...Frankie turned on the grill..Ansu, Araujo and others played ball in the sand..and everyone was happy. Well, almost everyone was here..Pablo was nowhere to be found..I was happy about that but then light shined from the parking before he emerged from the shadow and my blood froze.

Our eyes met and I couldn't handle it..tears returned to my eyes and I just had to run away and get some air..it was a first ever panic attack I've experienced and the whole world felt like closing in on me.

I was sitting on the rock shaking until two arms held me and I looked into my brother's concerned eyes. He put his jacket over me holding me there in silence as I cried..why did he have to hurt me!? why me!? i never wanted anything but to love and be loved..and now i feel like a used up toy..

"Hey, whatever it is hermanita..you can tell your Pepi, bueno? I know it's kind of like I'm your parent here but I'm also just your brother..i never snitched on your to mom and dad, vale?" he spoke and I wanted to spill it all..the whole truth..and beg him to forgive me..to not hurt Pablo..but I didn't have the heart to hurt him..and even though I hate to admit, I didn't want to hurt Pablo either.

"I like someone..but I rejected him today" you lie feeling sick to your stomach that after everything he'd done, you were still lying to Pedri's face.

"You were scared?" he asked and I nodded..what else were I meant to do? one lie after another..it felt eternal at that point.

"Just call him..he's a fool if he doesn't want you" he said and I smile nodding and taking the phone he gave me..Pablo Gavi..you're one big fool!!!! I dialed Jacobo's number..

Pedri returned and Gavi after chugging onto another beer out of desperation asked about me..he wanted to follow after me..to hold me against himself and tell me he lied..that he loves me..so much it drives him crazy..but he knew he couldn't..not with Pedri already leaving.

"It's about the boy like always with girls.." he said and Pablo clenched his jaw..he was ready for his best friend to punch him into oblivion after I told him about everything but punch never came.

"She left with Jacobo, let's drink" when those words left Pedri's lips Gavi's whole body contracted and he watched you hop onto another boys motorcycle and drive off..he clenched his grip on the bottle and it broke leaving his hand bloody.

That night after Jacobo brought me home after nice dinner and kissed me tonight, I regretted it all..lying to Pedri again..getting into a relationship I don't want..and ever giving Pablo Gavi a chance. I fell asleep with tears once again.

A stumbling sound didn't wake me up but cold kisses on my shoulder and neck did and I really was about to scream but a hand was covering my mouth. I turned around and saw Pablo there clearly too wasted to know what he was doing.

"What are you doing here!!? Please leave!??" I tried getting up but he was too strong and had me pinned down on the bed with heavy breathing.

"Please..just one more time..we won't do anything..I just want to hold you one more time.." he was slurring his words and my heart was racing..he was clearly still feeling the same thing I did. But i had a boyfriend now..it was even more wrong then before!!

"i have.." but he didn't let me finish that sentence..he couldn't bare it in that moment and I knew it as his eyes were filling with tears.

"please cielo.." he whispered and I sighed feeling a lump in my throat from that nickname pulling his arm and making him cuddle me tightly as we both fell asleep..suddenly nothing else felt wrong.

Pablo woke up first..he had a horrendous headache but smiled looking down at me in his arms sleeping peacefully. I looked like an angel with my hair scattered down his arm holding onto him while his hand rested on my butt. It was perfect..and if he could hide from Pedri then he could hide from Vini as well!

Just as he was about to kiss me good morning did my phone ring and I jumped looking at my new boyfriend's name shining on the screen. I heard Pablo groaning and throwing his head back in annoyance.

"You should go and..Pablo don't ever do this again!"I said about to answer but he took my phone hanging up instead.

"You let me stay because you wanted it too! I know you're still mine pequeñita.." he said about to pull me close but I was done with his games. He hurt my feelings and made me feel like his toy only to act like it didn't happen..well that won't happen!!!

"I let you stay because you were wasted and wouldn't let go off my waist! I'm done crying over you so just get out!" I were as cold as he was seeing something in his eyes sparkle and it had a red ting..he was angry. The doorbell rang and we both went downstairs.

It couldn't be Pedri since he was at training that Pablo clearly decided to ditch..so it could only be Jacobo..shit!

"Hey beba I brought you coffee..oh hi Pablo, I'm a huge fan" he said and there went Pablo's confidence as he smirked looking at your annoyed face. Pablo took the coffee from the boys hands and you stood there in disbelief..what an asshole!

"She hates coffee in the morning cause it makes her stomach upset..see you around pequeñita" he smirks winking and you fought an urge to throw a rock at his big head right now! Although he was right..Pablo did know you so much better than Jacobo..

We went to school and there was Masa waiting for an explanation..Jacobo kissed me and left and I told her everything she missed since being away.

jacobo_bru

Beba @y.n.gonzalez

comentarios:

pedritoofan: he's her boyfriend!!?😨

gaviigirlss: she doesn't look happy like she did in pics with gavi :((

y.n.fangirlies: right!!? that's what I thought!!?

masa.babyy: my best girl❤️

pedri: ❤️

pedri.gavi.girl: nooo she's not happy with him pedriii!!

gonzalezfam: she didn't even comment!!?🤔

#gavigif #gavi #fc barça #fc barca #fc barcelona #pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi #pablo gavira #pablo martín páez gavira #pablogavixreaderfluff #pablogavixreadersmut