#I had a huge feeling of being overwhelmed a couple of weeks ago and it made me shrink into myself online again sfhkjfgh

[hyaciiintho]

🌸｡*ﾟ+. Sorry to anyone waiting on an ooc reply from me through DMs. I'll try to get back on track soonish, but it might be after these next two weeks that I do. Gonna be visiting family and friend on the east coast, so I'll be occupied. Bringing my laptop with me, in case of anything, but it's not a guarantee I'll get much done while over there.

Regardless, I appreciate everyone who sent stuff in ♡ I might be doubling down on memes for these next work nights so I can get my queue stuffed enough for my absence.

I hope everyone has a lovely day/night ♡

[submattenthusiast]

handy

summary - rewarding matt for doing your handy work.

pairings; sub!matt x soft dom!reader

contents; smut; handjobs; oral (m! receiving) ; multiple orgasms ; use of pet-names (mommy, mama,baby, princess, etc), praise kink.

notes - watched nic's video and got inspired ,enjoy! not proofread.

walking down the huge aisles in ikea you were overwhelmed, to say the least. you needed a new vanity for your apartment, as you had just moved in a couple of weeks ago. hand in hand with your boyfriend matt, who came along to look at your options and show his skills, claiming to be a professional vanity builder. 

you were beginning to lose hope, none of the vanities matched the vibe you wanted for your room. “what about this one?” matt suggested, pointing at a huge white vanity. you turned in his direction, silently praying that this was the one. the vanity was perfect, with wide drawers on both sides, and a huge mirror with multiple vibrant lights. “yes yes that’s the one!!” you exclaimed excitedly. you observed it closer looking at all the details before purchasing. “this better be the one you want it’s huge and $250 baby” he chuckled, holding the flimsy price tag.

“it is i promise and since you’re mr professional, i’ll pay” you joked, pushing the cart towards the register. “the hell you are,” he said, making a bitter face, the thought of you paying for anything made him sick. “i can pay for myself matt’’ you defended. he snatched the wallet from your hands, shoving it in his back pocket. “you can but i’m a gentleman,” he winked. 

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

“why did i volunteer to do this dumb shit” matt angrily groaned, he sighed deeply, frustrated wasn’t even the proper word to use. his cheeks tinted red and sweat was dripping down his pale neck. though sweaty he looked so sexy, white wife beater showing his tattooed arm, muscles popping out now and then.  “maybe if you read the instructions” you teased, gesturing towards the untouched packet in the corner of the room. he looked up at you with a glare, unamused by your comment. 

“and maybe you could help out” he suggested sarcastically, returning his focus to the materials on the floor. usually, his attitude would land him in hot water, but this time it was different. maybe because he was doing you a huge favor or maybe it was because he looked good doing it. either way, you wanted to jump his bones. you bit down hard on your lips, admiring the view in front of you. 

“hey! i tried to help but you waved me away smartass” you shot back. you adjusted your position on the bed, trying to ignore how bad he was turning you on. he gave you a look then rolled his eyes. “yeah yeah’’ he mumbled. “if it helps, you look good building it.’’ you complimented, good was an understatement though. “i’m all sweaty and gross, you into that?’’ he chuckled, posing as if he was a model. 

“no but i am into you being on your knees’’ you laughed, raising your eyebrows twice. you changed positions from sitting to lying down on your bed, fluffy blankets touching your skin delicately. “fuckin’ freak’’ he joked, making his way over to the edge of the bed, on his knees. he settled at the side of your bed, inches away from your face.

you reach your hands out to play with his brunette locks, a bit damp due to sweat, not that you minded. his eyes fluttered shut as you continued, matt loved it when you played with his hair, turning him on more than he would ever admit. “you’re so pretty,” you whispered, removing your hands from his hair down to his cheeks, decorated with a slight stubble. you moved a hand under his chin, making him look up at you. you placed your lips on his, softly kissing him, tasting the hint of vanilla on his pink lips. you deepened the kiss, opening your mouth and allowing matt to slip his tongue in. you moaned into his mouth, infatuated with the feeling of his lips on yours. 

you broke away from the kiss, needing to catch your breath. your chest moved up and down as you took slow breaths. finally opening your eyes, yours met matt’s blue ones, making you a bit nervous. eye contact with matt was always intense. his cheeks were flushed, as the kiss was a bit much. “you can’t kiss me like that then send me back to work” he stated, missing your lips already. he rested his head on your hands as if he was going to sleep. 

“how about this?’’ you started, he lifted his head, ears practically perking up, giving you his full attention. “if you finish the vanity i’ll give you a reward” you finished. “what kind of reward?” he questioned, he was intrigued by your proposal. you moved away from his face, returning to your original position. “i’ve got a few things in mind, but you’ll never find out if you don’t get to it,’’ you said, pointing to the mess on the floor.  

he shot up from his place on the floor, knees almost giving out. he was determined now, he’ll take whatever you give him. he shuffled over to the corner where the instructions were, picked it up, and showed it to you. “good boy” you chuckled, knowing he loved the praise. his cock twitched in his pants at your words, he stifled a moan, not wanting to give in that easily.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

“princess look look! i’m all done” he cheered, showing off the fully built vanity. he repeatedly pointed at it. you stood from the bed, excitedly skipping over towards matt. you sat in the chair, looking in the mirror, opening all the drawers, and ensuring everything was sturdy. you looked back at matt, who was cracking open a root beer, and smiled at him mouthing a “thank you”. he winked before sipping his favorite soda.

he walked towards the bed and flopped down, heavy sighs came from his lips.

he got comfortable in the blanket before he said “now what about that reward’’ matt said, raising an eyebrow while looking at you through the mirror. “is that the only reason you built this? that’s not very professional of you” you tease, getting up to join him on your bed. “very funny,” he said blankly. 

“lose that attitude if you want to cum tonight” you shot back, knowing that’ll shut him up. you sat next to him, throwing your legs over his thighs. “yes mommy, m sorry” he quickly submitted, knowing he couldn’t handle a denied orgasm tonight. “good, now what do you want mommy to do?” you questioned. today was all about you and now you wanted to take care of him. his rough hands caressed your plush thighs, wanting to be touching you always. 

“want your mouth, a-and your hands’ mama please” he whimpers, looking a bit embarrassed. you melted at his words, he was so shy during times like this, never being able to tell you what he wanted directly. “yeah, sweet boy? that all?’’, you wanted to make sure that he was getting everything he wanted tonight. he blushed at the pet name, a small smile forming at your words. “yes yes, m too tired for the full thing y'know, building” he shyly admitted. you giggled in response, “that’s alright, just makin’ sure” you reassured him.

the praise went straight to his dick, not trying to hide it whatsoever. after you called him a “good boy” earlier, he couldn't think straight. 

“lay back against the headboard for me okay?” you instruct. matt unraveled himself from inside the blankets and sat up against the headboard, just like you said. he was so eager for you to touch him but he just wanted to be good for you. you spread his long legs just enough for you to get between them. you sat on your heels in front of the boy, reaching down to unbuckle his belt. he sucked in a sharp breath once you pulled his pants down. 

his dick popped out of his boxers, hitting his stomach, wincing at the cold air hitting his tip. you were practically drooling, the sight made you horny. his tip was an angry red, leaking precum, begging to be touched. you spit into your hand before reaching down and wrapping your hand around him.

you pumped his dick lazily, starting at the base, thumb grazing over his tip. matt let out a sigh of relief, eyes fluttering shut, your hands felt tremendous around him. you wrapped another hand around him, adding to the pleasure. he cried out at the feeling, “o-oh shit, a little faster please?” he pleaded. you obliged, speeding up your movements. his whole body reacted to you, hips bucking up in response, thighs tensing up, stomach clenching.his fingers gripped at the sheets under him, pleasure becoming overwhelming.

“you’re doing so good, baby,” you cooed, praising him. his dick twitched in your hands, warning you of his orgasm. his mouth parted as he moaned out, ear- splittingly loud. “close fuck’’ he warned, holding back from cumming. you adjusted how you were jerking him, focusing more on his tip, rubbing in a circular motion.

“mommy cum please let-let me cum” he stuttered out, he wasn’t gonna be able to hold it much longer. you removed one hand, giving him a few more pumps before letting him cum. “you got it, cum for me” ,his legs shook upon hearing the word cum. matt threw his head back against the velvet headboard as ropes of cum spilled from his cock. you worked him through his orgasm, squeezing lightly at his base, milking him dry. whimpers and curses fell from his mouth as he came down from his high.

you slowly removed your hand from around him, wiping off the cum on the sheets below you. “you’re so good fuck” he spoke, mind blown by his previous orgasm. “i’m not even done yet matt” you snort. he was already fucked out and you hadn’t given him the head he requested. his eyes shot open, cursing himself for being needy earlier.

you take a deep breath before lowering yourself down. his cock still stood tall, a bit intimidating. you swallowed harshly before kissing up to the tip, leftover cum decorating your lips. he hissed as you moved your lips on him, still sensitive from before. “n-no teasing please n-need you” he murmured. “so impatient” you whispered before filling your mouth with him.

he let out a sharp breath as you took him fully. you started easy, gradually setting a pace. you gave the tip a few kitten licks, causing him to buck up into your mouth, tip hitting the back of your throat. spit started to dribble from the corner of your mouth, making a lubricant for you. his slender fingers curled into your hair, careful not to tug,

you start to bob your head up and down, fully adjusted to his length. his jaw went slack, continuous sobs spilling out. you moved your tongue skillfully against him, swiping in rushed pace, eager to bring him to the edge. your hands gripped on his thighs for stability, nails digging into his pale skin, earning a groan from him.

slurping noises and breathy moans rang throughout the room. matt was in bliss, the warmth of your mouth felt heavenly, as if you were made for him. he had completely disregarded the idea of not pulling on your hair, he tugged hard. “ah ah close again pl-fuck please” he cried, tangling his fingers further into your hair. 

you were unable to give him a vocal response as your mouth was occupied, you gave his thigh a couple taps. he looked at you with puppy eyes, begging to cum, you nodded before focusing back on his cock. 

a couple more bobs and he was cumming down your throat, white spurts filling your mouth. “o-oh my god mommy” he said breathlessly, “thank you fuck thank you felt so good” he rambled. you sat up from your position, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “you didn't have to swallow that m sorry i couldn’t hold it” he said, embarrassed.  you sat against the headboard now, extending your arms around matt. “it’s okay sweet boy, i wanted to alright?” you reassured him, kissing the top of his head. his hair was still damp from earlier but you didn’t care. all you wanted to do was make him feel good.

a/n - ass ending once again, thanks for reading !

taglist; @mattybsgroupie @frnkocnlvr @fratboychrisera @issysh3ll @zariyam 

[ruewrote]

𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛𝑡 𝑠𝑎𝑦.

PAIRING: josh washington x actress!reader WARNINGS: no use of y/n GENRE: angst / fluff SONG INSPIRATION: i love you, im sorry by gracie abrams WORD COUNT: 9.7k REQUESTED: yes NOTE: does this make up for me being gone?

navigation | ask | josh washington masterlist

you had been waiting anxiously for a callback for the big film you’d auditioned for.

it was the kind of audition you left feeling half giddy, half sick to your stomach, replaying every line in your head like you were your own worst critic. was it good enough? did they notice the slight crack in your voice during the emotional scene? and why did you nervously laugh when they said, “thank you for coming in”?

every message and call since had you hurtling towards your phone. it was becoming a bit ridiculous, really. the first couple of days, it was exciting. you’d get a text notification and scramble to check it, only to be greeted by spam.

you’d sigh, deleting it quickly, before going back to refreshing your email.

this was a recurring thing, it was starting to piss you off.

the moment your phone buzzed, you almost tripped over your own feet to grab it. but there it was: the dreaded unknown number you’d seen three times today. you stared at the screen, feeling your heart deflate. “i don’t want to renew my car’s extended warranty!” you groaned into your pillow.

by day four, you were convinced your phone was mocking you. it sat there, silent, while you tried to distract yourself with literally anything. you started scrolling through social media, but every post was about someone else’s big break, and you found yourself glaring at your screen.

“oh, of course, you booked a role,” you muttered, jealously eyeing a friend’s celebratory post about a commercial gig. “good for you, toothpaste ad girl.”

you even tried taking a walk, thinking the universe might be kinder if you weren’t obsessing over it. the park definitely slowed your mind as you watched the ducks, glancing over to the family happily laughing about anything and everything.

it’s crazy the difference in your lives, but even though you didn’t know them, you wished for them to keep their happiness even with how you were feeling right now.

by the end of the week, you were practically glued to your phone, sitting at the edge of your couch. you’d made yourself a cup of tea to calm your nerves, but it had gone cold hours ago, untouched.

and then it happened.

your phone lit up, and this time, it wasn’t your mom or a scam call or a text about household essentials. it was your manager’s number flashing on the screen. you grabbed the phone, nearly dropping it in your haste.

“hello?!” you answered, a little too loudly. you winced, immediately trying to play it cool. “oh, i mean, hey! what’s up?”

there was a pause on the other end, the kind that had you holding your breath. then your manager’s voice crackled through, sounding oddly chipper.

“guess who just booked the role?”

you let out a noise that was somewhere between a gasp and a squeak. “are you serious?! i got it?!”

“you got it!” your manager confirmed, laughing. “they loved your audition. said you brought a lot of… unique energy to the role.”

you frowned for a split second. unique energy? what did that even mean? but you didn’t have time to dwell on it because the excitement bubbling up inside you was too overwhelming. you started pacing back and forth, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

“oh my god, oh my god!” you shouted, completely losing any semblance of chill. “this is huge! this is– wait, you’re not messing with me, right? because if this is a prank, i swear i will–”

“relax,” your manager interrupted, sounding amused. “i promise, it’s the real deal. bob washington’s production company called me directly. they want you on set next week.”

“bob washington?” you echoed, your eyes widening. “like… the bob washington? he’s producing it?”

your heart was thudding harshly in your chest. you nearly dropped the phone, switching it to your other hand as you ran a nervous hand through your hair. bob washington. legendary producer, hollywood royalty, and a man known for creating some of the most iconic films of the last decade.

“yup,” your manager confirmed, clearly revelling in your reaction. “they’re calling it his biggest project in years. high budget, a-list cast, the works. they wanted someone fresh and dynamic for your role, and, well... you knocked it out of the park.”

“oh my god,” you breathed out, sinking onto your couch. your legs felt like jelly, and you were pretty sure your pulse was now audible. “i can’t believe this is happening. i can’t– this is insane!”

“i know, right?” your manager agreed, sounding almost as excited as you. “this is the kind of project that could change everything for you. it’s going to be intense, but it’s exactly the opportunity you’ve been waiting for.”

you could hardly sit still, feeling like you might burst out of your skin from the rush of adrenaline. “okay, so… what happens next? do i need to do anything? when do i start?”

“calm down,” your manager laughed. “i’ll send over all the paperwork today, and you’ll need to sign off on it. but you’re officially set to start next week. first day is monday. they want you on set early for wardrobe and a quick read through.”

“monday?” you echoed, eyes widening. “that’s in, like, three days!”

“yup,” they replied casually. “showbiz waits for no one, especially when bob washington is at the helm. so take the weekend to get your head straight and be ready. oh, and maybe do some research on the other cast members. you’re going to be working with some big names.”

you nodded, even though they couldn’t see you, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. “okay. okay, i can do this.”

“that’s the spirit,” your manager said, their tone turning a bit softer. “this is your big break. you’ve earned it. go get ready to blow everyone away.”

“thank you,” you managed to say, voice thick with emotion. “seriously. for everything.”

“don’t thank me yet,” your manager teased. “save it for after you’ve made it through the first week without fainting.”

you hung up, staring at your phone in disbelief. for a moment, you just sat there, letting the reality of it all sink in. you’d gotten the call. the role you’d dreamed of was yours and in a few short days, you’d be stepping onto a set unlike any you’d been on before.

your first day on set was a whirlwind, and calling it crazy would be a massive understatement.

you were beyond nervous, practically buzzing with a mix of excitement and fear. you’d changed your outfit at least five times that morning, scrutinising every detail as if your career depended on whether your shirt said “professional” or “i have no idea what i’m doing.” by the time you arrived, you were convinced they could see the nerves shaking through you.

but all your worries melted away the moment you stepped onto the lot. instead of the cold, judgmental stares you’d been bracing for, you were met with warm smiles and friendly greetings. the crew bustled around you, nodding and waving, making you feel like you were already part of the family. it was as if everyone had collectively decided that you belonged here, no questions asked.

“hey, you must be the new star!” a woman in a headset called out, grinning as she approached. “i’m sara, assistant director. welcome to the madness!”

you laughed, the tension easing just a bit. “that obvious, huh?”

“well, we did hear about you,” she replied with a wink. “bob’s been talking you up since the casting decision. he’s really excited about you joining the team.”

your stomach fluttered at the mention of bob washington. it felt surreal, knowing that a man of his status had taken notice of you. “i’m just hoping i don’t mess it up,” you admitted, trying to keep your smile steady.

“you won’t,” she said simply, squeezing your shoulder. “c’mon, let’s get you over to wardrobe. they want to do a final fitting before we start blocking your first scene.”

you nodded, following her through the maze of trailers and equipment. as you walked, you couldn’t help but take it all in. the towering sets, the clamour of voices, the scent of fresh coffee and sawdust hanging in the air. it felt like stepping into another world, one you’d only ever dreamed of being part of.

wardrobe was a flurry of fabric and pins, the team immediately setting upon you with expert hands, adjusting and perfecting your look. they chatted as they worked, making you laugh with their behind the scenes stories and gossip about past productions.

it was impossible not to feel at ease around them, and by the time they were done, you felt like you’d already made a few new friends.

stepping out of the trailer in your costume with a newfound confidence. taking a breath before meeting up with sara.

“looking good,” sara called over, giving you a thumbs-up. “ready for your first scene?”

you took a deep breath, the nerves settling into something steadier, like anticipation. “ready as i’ll ever be.”

“great! we’ll do a quick run through on set, and then we’ll start filming.”

you followed her to the soundstage, where the set was already in full swing. cameras were being adjusted, lights were positioned just so, and the director was deep in conversation with the cinematographer. the air buzzed with energy, and for a moment, you felt like a small cog in a very big machine.

but then bob washington himself appeared, striding across the set with purpose. he looked exactly as you’d imagined. a tall, silver-haired man with an aura of calm confidence, like he knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it.

he spotted you instantly, breaking into a broad smile as he approached. “there she is!” he said warmly, extending a hand. “our newest star. i’m so glad you could join us.”

you shook his hand, hoping he couldn’t feel the slight tremble in your fingers. “thank you, mr. washington. this is… incredible. i’m really honoured to be here.”

“please, call me bob,” he insisted, waving away the formality. “and the honour is ours. i’ve got a good feeling about you, you’re exactly what this film needs.”

the praise made your cheeks heat up, and you couldn’t help but smile back. “i’ll do my best to live up to it.”

“i know you will,” he said confidently. “now, let’s get you into position. i want you to feel comfortable, so if you need anything, just let us know..”

as bob walked away to speak with the director, you took your place in front of the camera for the first time. the lights were hot, the crew was watching, and the nerves threatened to bubble up again. but then you remembered the way everyone had welcomed you, the genuine smiles, and bob’s encouraging words. you took a deep breath and rolled your shoulders back, settling into the moment.

“all right, everyone, quiet on set!” the director called out. “we’re ready for the first take.”

the set fell silent, and you felt the weight of it, the anticipation hanging in the air. you were about to speak your first line, to step into this role that you’d fought so hard for.

and for the first time all day, you didn’t feel nervous. you felt ready.

“action!” the director shouted.

it was the second week of filming when you first met josh. he strolled onto set with his dad, cutting through the chaos of cameras and crew with an easy confidence, like he’d done this a million times before. you hadn’t known what to expect, you’d heard people whisper. the washington name came with a lot of preconceived notions, but when he flashed that wide, boyish grin at you, all your assumptions melted away.

josh was nothing but lovely from the start. he introduced himself with a playful smirk and a handshake that lingered just a moment longer than necessary. “and you are?” he asked, his eyes bright with curiosity, like he already knew your name but wanted to hear you say it.

you gave it, trying to keep your own smile polite and professional, but it was hard not to be charmed by the way he looked at you. “nice to meet you, josh.”

“trust me,” he replied, leaning in slightly, voice dropping to a low whisper, “the pleasure’s all mine.”

from that moment on, josh was a regular presence on set, always finding his way over to where you were between takes. he’d crack jokes, compliment your performance, and offer you his hoodie whenever the chilly air left you shivering. 

it wasn’t exactly a secret that he liked you. it was there in the way he lit up when you entered a room, the way he leaned closer when he talked to you. he was flirty, sure, but never in a sleazy way. it was sweet, almost shy at times, like he couldn’t quite believe his luck that you just might be interested in him too.

one afternoon, you found yourself sitting together at the edge of the set, the sun dipping low behind the trees. most of the crew had wrapped for the day, the noise dying down to a soft murmur as everyone packed up. josh sat close enough that your knees were almost touching, a faint smirk on his lips as he handed you a coffee he’d picked up from the food truck.

“figured you might need a pick me up,” he said, eyes glinting with amusement. “you looked like you were about to fall asleep standing up during that last scene.”

you laughed, taking the cup from him gratefully. “wow, so i’m that obvious, huh?”

“only to someone who’s paying attention,” he teased, nudging your shoulder with his. he took a sip of his own drink, then glanced sideways at you, his expression softening. “you’ve been killing it, by the way. i know everyones been super impressed.”

you felt a blush rise to your cheeks, caught off guard by the compliment. “thanks, josh. that means a lot.”

he was quiet for a moment, watching you with a soft look in eyes. “you know,” he said slowly, like he was testing the waters, “i’ve never really seen someone fit in so quickly. it’s like you’ve been a part of this cast forever.”

“i could say the same about you,” you replied, raising an eyebrow. “you’ve practically become one of us, and you’re not even in the movie.”

he chuckled, the sound low and warm. “yeah, well, maybe i just like hanging around you.”

there it was. that flirty charm that made your pulse quicken every time. you tried to play it cool, leaning back and giving him a teasing smile. “is that so?”

josh’s grin widened, but then he looked down, almost sheepish. “yeah,” he admitted softly, and for once, he didn’t sound like he was trying to impress you. it was just honest. “you’re different, you know? in a good way.”

you opened your mouth to respond, but before you could say anything, a loud voice called out from across the set. “josh! we need you over here for a second!”

he sighed, rolling his eyes but standing up anyway. “duty calls,” he said, but before he walked away, he turned back to you, taking a small step closer. “let’s hang out after this. just us,” he suggested, his tone hopeful.

you couldn’t help but smile. “yeah,” you agreed, feeling a jolt of excitement you hadn’t felt in a long time. “i’d like that.”

josh’s smile was all teeth as he jogged off, giving you a quick wave before disappearing into the crowd. you watched him go. it was impossible not to feel something for him, the way he made you feel seen, special. you couldn’t help but wonder if he felt it too, or if it was just his natural charm.

by the time shooting was nearing its end, you’d formed the softest spot for josh. it wasn’t just the way he made you laugh or how he seemed to know exactly what to say to put you at ease.

it was the little routines you’d fallen into together, the kind that made it hard to imagine your days without him.

every morning, without fail, josh would show up at your trailer with your favourite drink in hand. he’d knock once and then let himself in with a bright, teasing grin. “good morning, beautiful,” 

it didn’t matter how tired you were or how early the call time was. he'd always bring a bit of sunshine with him, and you’d find yourself smiling back even on your worst days.

it started with his playful affection. at first, his hands would land on your shoulders as a joke, squeezing them dramatically like he was an over the top masseuse. “rough night?” he’d ask with a wink, his fingers digging into the knots from the long hours on set. 

but as the weeks went by, those joking massages turned into something more real. he’d work out the tension in your neck and back while the makeup artists did their work, his touch firm but gentle, the kind of attention that made you melt.

“careful, you’re going to put me out of a job,” one of the makeup artists would joke, glancing between the two of you with a knowing smile.

josh would just chuckle, his hands lingering a bit longer than necessary before he’d sigh dramatically when it was time for them to move on to your hair. “fine, fine,” he’d say, stepping back like he was truly reluctant to let you go. but then he’d slide into the chair beside you, threading his fingers through yours without a second thought, as if holding your hand was the most natural thing in the world.

he’d sit there contentedly, scrolling through his phone with his free hand, occasionally showing you a funny meme or a video he thought you’d like. he always had that wide smile on his lips, the kind that made it clear just how happy he was to be there with you. it was a kind of peace, a quiet connection that neither of you had to put into words.

you knew people noticed, and you didn’t mind. it was hard not to smile at the way he looked at you. the playful flirting had given way to something tender, something that felt a lot like the start of a relationship neither of you had fully acknowledged yet.

as your makeup artist stepped back and declared you camera ready, josh gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “you look amazing,” he said quietly, his voice low and sincere, all the teasing gone from his tone.

you turned to him, meeting his eyes. “thanks, josh,”

“i couldn’t have done it without my personal masseuse.”

he laughed, leaning closer so no one else could hear. “anytime,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. “but, you know, you don’t have to wait until we’re on set for this kind of attention. we could... make it a regular thing.”

your eyes flicked up to meet his, and you saw it there. the unspoken question, the hope he was trying to play off as casual. you bit your lip to hide your smile, giving his hand one last squeeze before letting go.

“yeah,” you said softly, feeling the warmth bloom in your chest. “i’d like that.”

the last weeks of filming flew by in a blur, each day bleeding into the next. if you weren’t on set, you were out grabbing late night drinks and dinners with the cast or rehearsing lines together. it felt like you were constantly moving, your days filled with laughter. just pure fun with all your new friends..

well, most of them, anyway.

then there was olivia.

no matter how friendly you tried to be, it was like talking to a mirror. everything bounced back at you with a reflection of fake smiles and hollow laughter. she was sweet and bubbly when others were around, playing the role of best friend like it was written into her script. but the second you were alone, her expression would shift. like she couldn’t drop the mask fast enough.

you were in the middle of reapplying your lip gloss in the bathroom when the door swung open with a bang. olivia stormed in, her heels clicking sharply against the tile. she came to a stop beside you at the sink, her gaze briefly meeting yours in the mirror before she looked away, pulling out her compact and patted at her makeup.

for a moment, there was nothing but the sound of her rummaging through her purse and the muted thump of music coming from outside. you kept your focus on your own reflection, but you could feel her presence next to you, heavy and expectant, like she was waiting for something.

finally, jessica let out a huff, a tight, forced laugh that seemed to come out of nowhere. “you know,” she said, her tone as sugary as ever but dripping with something darker, “it’s funny.”

“what is?” you asked, capping your lip gloss and glancing over at her.

she leaned in closer, the smile on her lips so thin it looked painful. “how everyone is obsessed with you.” her voice was sharp, each word pointed like the edge of a knife. “it’s almost impressive, the way you’ve got them all wrapped around your finger. i mean, what’s your secret?”

you blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in her tone. “olivia, i’m not–”

“oh, spare me,” she snapped, dropping the sweet act entirely. her eyes narrowed, the fake friendliness dissolving. “don’t play innocent. you know exactly what you’re doing.”

a frown tugged at your lips, confusion mixing with a flicker of irritation. “i’m just here to do my job,” you said, trying to keep your voice even. “if i’ve upset you somehow–”

“upset me?” jessica cut you off with a dry laugh, tilting her head like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “god, you really think you’re above it all, don’t you? just because everyone likes you right now doesn’t mean they always will.”

you took a step back, feeling the heat of her words. there it was. the real olivia, finally showing through the cracks of her perfect persona. “i’m not trying to compete with you, liv,” you said quietly. “we’re supposed to be a team.”

she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “oh, please. we both know this industry isn’t about teams. it’s about who shines the brightest. and right now, that’s you.” she snapped her compact shut and shoved it back into her bag with a sharp motion. “but don’t get too comfortable. you’re just the flavour of the month.”

you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. it would’ve been easy to snap back, to throw her own words in her face, but you knew that was exactly what she wanted. instead, you offered her a small, tight smile. “if that’s how you feel, then i’m sorry.”

her eyes flicked up to yours, a flicker of surprise flashing across her face before she quickly masked it. it was almost like she hadn’t expected you to be so calm, like she’d been gearing up for a fight you weren’t going to give her.

“whatever,” she muttered, but her voice was sharper now, laced with something bitter. she turned on her heel, strutting towards the door with a slow, almost mocking glance back over her shoulder. “enjoy this little fling with josh while you can,” she added, her tone practically dripping with disdain.

her smirk widening as she continued, voice dripping with bitterness. “he’s just being nice to you. it’s what he does– flirts a little, makes you feel good about yourself. you’re not the first girl to fall for it, and you definitely won’t be the last.”

you swallowed hard, but the sting was already spreading through your chest. it felt like she’d reached right in and found the one spot where you weren’t sure of yourself, digging her nails in just to see how much it would hurt.

“i give it a few weeks before he moves on to someone else,” jessica added, her tone almost singing now, like she was savouring the taste of the words. “i’m sure he’ll find another little pet project soon enough.”

she turned and strutted out, the door slamming shut behind her, leaving you standing there in the echoing silence. you stared at your reflection in the mirror, your hands gripping the edge of the sink so tightly your knuckles turned white. you tried to shake it off, to tell yourself that she was just being petty, but her words had landed right where they were meant to.

you couldn’t help but wonder if she was right. maybe you weren’t special. maybe you were just another girl caught up in josh’s charm, another temporary distraction for him to play with before he got bored.

as you walked back out to rejoin the others, you felt the sliver of doubt she’d planted start to grow, worming its way deeper into your mind. you couldn’t shake it, her words playing on a loop, biting and bitter. 

you’re not the first girl to fall for it, and you definitely won’t be the last.

you stepped onto set and josh looked up immediately, his grin spreading across his face as soon as he caught your eye. it was like the whole room disappeared for him, like you were the only person he wanted to see. for a split second, you felt the warmth of it wash over you, the easy comfort you’d come to crave.

and then that sliver of doubt dug deeper, twisting painfully. you frowned, forcing yourself to look away as you made your way to where you were supposed to be, brushing him off without a word. you could feel his gaze follow you, his smile faltering, slipping away like he couldn’t quite understand what had changed.

i give it a few weeks before he moves on to someone else. 

olivia’s voice echoed in your mind, harsher now, louder. you clenched your jaw, eyes fixed on the ground as you took your mark. you didn’t dare look back at him, even as the silence stretched on and you knew he was still watching, trying to catch your eye.

you distanced yourself from him for the last few days of filming. it wasn’t something you planned, but every time you saw him, olivia’s words clawed their way back to the surface, sharp and jagged, cutting into whatever fragile hope you had left. 

you started to lock your trailer door in the mornings, sitting in the too quiet space with your heart pounding in your chest. your stylist team exchanged concerned looks behind your back, their hands moving a little more gently through your hair, as if they could sense the storm you were holding in.

the pain gnawed at you, raw and relentless. how could you be so stupid? you thought. of course this was how it would end. he was josh washington, the son of a hollywood icon, used to getting whatever he wanted. he could have anyone, and you’d been foolish enough to think you were different. that you were something more than a temporary distraction.

you were angry, but mostly at yourself. angry for letting your guard down, for believing that the way he treated you meant something real. it hurt in a way you hadn’t expected, a dull ache that pulsed through your chest every time you saw him across the room.

and when you did see him, he looked just as lost. his usual bright smile had dimmed, replaced with a soft, uncertain look that he reserved only for you, like he didn’t quite know what he’d done wrong but was desperate to fix it. you tried to avoid his eyes, but it was impossible. they always found you, pleading silently for you to come back, to talk to him, to let him in.

but you couldn’t. not now. not when you were convinced it had all been a lie.

on the final day of shooting, you pulled away from your friends as they gathered for one last photo, your throat tight with the effort of holding back tears. you forced yourself to look up, and there he was, standing across the room, watching you. the look on his face broke you a little more. a mixture of confusion, sadness, and something you couldn’t quite place, something that made you want to run to him and pull him close, even now.

he tried to give you a small, sad smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. it was like he was holding out an olive branch, unsure if you’d take it. your heart twisted painfully, the urge to just say screw it almost overwhelming.

you debated for a second, the weight of it all crashing down on you. then, you managed the briefest of smiles, a tiny, strained thing that faded almost as soon as it appeared. it was all you could give him. and when you turned to leave, there was a tug, a pull from you to him.

the door closed behind you, and you didn’t look back.

a year passed, and life moved on. at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. you stayed in touch with the friends you’d made on set, the group chat still active. but it wasn’t the same, not without him.

you’d started to make a name for yourself in the industry, your social media blowing up when the announcement came that you’d be starring in a new film. the feedback was overwhelmingly positive, fans excited to see you. it should’ve felt like a triumph, something to celebrate, but every time you saw the comments or got a congratulatory message, there was a hollow ache you couldn’t shake. 

you tried to fill the void with dates. new people, new places. but none of them went past the first dinner or drinks. you laughed and made small talk, but it always felt forced, like you were going through the motions. you kept telling yourself it was because you were busy, too focused on your career to make time for anything serious.

but that wasn’t the truth, and you knew it. you missed him. you missed josh. the way he’d made you feel, the way you clicked from the very first moment. it was something you’d never had before and hadn’t found since, and it haunted you more than you wanted to admit. you hated how you left things, but the thought of facing him, of looking him in the eyes and seeing what hurt you caused. it terrified you.

you sighed, leaning back in the vanity chair as your makeup artist lined your lips with whatever product she was using. it felt good to be back in the routine of it all. you closed your eyes, letting yourself sink into the comfortable rhythm of the brushes, the gentle hum of conversation around you.

your playlist played quietly in the background, filling the silence with a mix of your favourite songs. and then, it shifted to something different, a song that made your chest tighten painfully. 

the one that used to play in his car, the one he’d sing along to, off-key and grinning as he’d turn up the volume just to make you laugh. you opened your eyes, staring at your reflection in the mirror.

the smile you’d been wearing slipped away, replaced by something softer, sadder. the makeup artist paused, noticing the change in your expression.

“you okay?” she asked gently, her hand hovering near your shoulder.

you forced a small, tight smile. “yeah,” you lied, your voice barely above a whisper. “i’m fine.”

but as the song played on, you realised just how untrue that was. you weren’t fine, and you hadn’t been since the moment you walked away from him.

there wasn’t time to dwell on it, not when the makeup artist was stepping back to admire her work, giving you a final nod of approval before you were whisked away to get dressed. you were guided behind a privacy screen where a small army of stylists and assistants waited with your gown. 

it was a process, the kind that required several hands, gentle tugs and tucks, and lots of patience. you held your arms up as they shimmied the dress up your body, the fabric whispering against your skin as it slid into place. it was stunning. a custom made one, of course. 

the bodice was sleek, hugging your curves in deep, midnight blue satin that seemed to shimmer under the light. it had a delicate sweetheart neckline, showing just the right amount of collarbone, and thin, elegant straps that wrapped around your shoulders.

as they adjusted the fit, you glanced down at the intricate beadwork that trailed from your waist, cascading into the full skirt like a waterfall of tiny, sparkling stars. the gown flowed out into a subtle train behind you, the kind that made you feel like you were gliding when you walked. it was a dress designed to make a statement, to turn heads and capture attention the second you stepped into the room.

but as they fluffed the layers and pinned a few final details, your mind drifted back to him. would he be there tonight? you hadn’t asked, too afraid of the answer. if he was there, would he even look at you? did he hate you now for leaving the way you did? and did you even want to see him, knowing it would bring back everything you’d tried so hard to bury?

the stylists stepped back, murmuring their approval, and you turned to face the mirror. for a moment, you barely recognized yourself. you looked beautiful, powerful even, like you belonged in the spotlight that was awaiting you.

you smoothed your hands over the satin fabric, taking a steadying breath. it was showtime. whatever happened tonight, whoever you might see, you needed to keep your head high.

“ready?” one of the assistants asked, offering you a bright smile as they held the door open.

you nodded, forcing a confident smile as you stepped out into the hall. “ready as i’ll ever be.” 

but as you made your way to the venue, the sound of your own heartbeat seemed to drown out everything else, a constant, pounding reminder that no matter how you looked on the outside, you were far from ready.

the second your heels touched the pavement, you were met with an explosion of blinding lights. flashes erupted from every angle, the paparazzi swarming you, desperate for the next big story. voices overlapped in a chaotic frenzy:

“look here! over your shoulder! who are you wearing tonight?”

you forced a smile, dazzling but rehearsed, turning slightly to give them a better angle as you adjusted the skirt of your gown. the cameras loved it, loved you. you could almost hear the clicks getting faster, the flashes coming quicker, and you knew by the looks on their faces that the photos would be everywhere tomorrow.

but your eyes weren’t on them; they were searching the crowd, scanning the sea of faces. you caught sight of your castmates just inside the venue, a familiar group gathered together in the warm light, posing for photos of their own. you watched as they laughed, their smiles wide and genuine. for a moment, you felt a pang of longing, you missed them, missed the easy camaraderie you’d once had.

you took a deep breath, lifting your chin a little higher as you made your way towards the entrance. the red carpet felt like it stretched on forever, every step heavy with the weight of anticipation. you could feel the eyes on you, not just from the photographers but from the crowd gathered behind the barriers. fans calling your name, reaching out with pens and posters. you waved, gave them that same bright smile, even as your stomach twisted into a knot.

you made your way over to the fans lined up along the barricade, the shouts of your name cutting through the noise. you couldn’t help but smile as you leaned in, reaching for the first outstretched poster.

“can you sign this?” a girl asked breathlessly, her eyes wide with excitement.

“of course,” you said warmly, scribbling your signature across the glossy paper before handing it back. you moved down the line, taking your time with each person, pausing to hold their hands and answer their rapid fire questions as best you could.

“what’s your favourite scene in the new movie?” someone yelled.

“can’t spoil it for you!” you teased, giving them a playful wink. “but you’ll love it, i promise.”

you paused when you saw a young teen, her cheeks wet with tears, clutching a phone case with your face on it. you knelt down a little, brushing a stray tear from her cheek with a gentle thumb.

“hey, you alright?” you asked softly, giving her a reassuring smile.

she nodded quickly, wiping her face with her sleeve. “i just… i can’t believe i’m meeting you.”

your heart melted a little at that. “well, i’m so glad you’re here,” you said sincerely. “you’re amazing. don’t forget that, okay?”

you hugged her quickly, the crowd erupting in cheers around you. when you pulled back, she was beaming, and it made the exhaustion you’d felt all day fade away. you moved on, taking selfies with everyone who asked, laughing and chatting. it was honestly one of the best parts of your night.

you took a deep breath, flashing one last smile at the crowd before stepping back. the fans waved and shouted their goodbyes, their faces lit up with joy, and you couldn’t help but feel the same joy in your own chest.

the red carpet felt endless beneath your feet, stretching out in front of you like a vivid trail leading you toward a thousand cameras, all flashing at once. it was chaos, but the good kind. the kind where you could almost feel the excitement buzzing in the air, like a collective anticipation. 

the energy of the crowd was contagious, and you couldn’t help but smile, soaking in the moment as you made your way down the carpet, exchanging waves and greetings with familiar faces. it was all about the premiere, of course, but for you, it felt more like a reunion of sorts. a chance to reconnect with old friends and colleagues you hadn’t seen in a while.

you hadn’t gone more than a few steps when a voice broke through the noise.

“look at you! killing it out here!” 

before you even had time to react, a warm hug pulled you in. ryan. a guy you’d worked with on a previous project, was grinning at you with that mischievous twinkle in his eyes. he stepped back to give you a once over, then mock pouted. 

“you’re out here making me look like an amateur. you should’ve warned me.”

you chuckled, adjusting the hem of your dress as if it were the most dramatic thing in the world. “not true. you’re just not bringing enough sparkle to the table,” you teased, nudging him playfully with your elbow.

he raised an eyebrow, looking you up and down. “i’m just trying to keep up. but i gotta say– mission accomplished. you’re stealing the spotlight tonight.”

the photographer’s call broke through the banter, and with a flash of the cameras, you both struck a pose. you leaned in slightly, offering your best smiles as the clicking of the cameras. you could hear the photographer giving a quiet “perfect!” before they moved on to catch the next moment.

you gave him a quick wave and moved on, weaving through the throng of excited actors and industry folk, all basking in the glamour of the night. there was something intoxicating about it – the shared joy, the excitement, the way everyone seemed to be feeding off each other’s energy.

a few steps down, you spotted someone you didn’t know well but had met at industry events before. a woman whose laugh was as big as her personality. she waved as she caught sight of you, and before you could even offer a word of greeting, you were pulled into a warm, tight hug. 

“is this your first premiere?” she asked, her voice bright with curiosity.

you smiled, shrugging a little. “no, but i’m still kinda freaking out. there’s just something about the flashing lights that makes me feel a little claustrophobic,” you admitted with a laugh.

she grinned, understanding exactly what you meant. “it’s like being in a fishbowl for a night, right? everyone’s looking at you, but you’ve got to own it. let’s have some fun with it!”

the cameras around you both clicked as you posed together, flashes going off so quickly you could hardly keep up. there was no rush, no pressure. just laughter and the easy chemistry that made you feel at home in the chaos. after a few more shots, you thanked her and kept moving.

the next few minutes blurred together, more poses with more familiar faces. a guy you’d met once at a party last year, a rising star in a rom com who was just starting to get their break through, a selfie with someone who had appeared in an indie film you adored. 

it felt like an effortless stream of interactions, as if you were just hanging out with friends instead of being on a giant event.

but then, you noticed something. as you made your way down the carpet, the crowd around you seemed to dissipate. you didn’t know if it was your own sense of space or just the natural ebb of the event, but suddenly you found yourself alone. there was no one nearby, no familiar faces laughing or posing for pictures. just the sharp clicking of cameras and the hum of voices from the crowd. 

the realisation hit you like a wave, and with it came the creeping tide of anxiety. your heart began to beat a little faster, the flashing lights growing brighter, the eyes of the photographers turning into an overwhelming pressure. it wasn’t just the cameras. it was the sheer number of people, all of them looking at you, all of them waiting for something, expecting something. 

you tried to steady your breath, forcing yourself to smile through the nervous tightness that was starting to crawl up your chest. but it wasn’t working. the world seemed to be closing in, the noise around you getting louder, more suffocating. 

and just when you felt like you might lose it, a hand settled firmly on your waist. before you could process what was happening, you were gently spun into someone.

your hands landed against the solid expanse of their chest, you looked up, you met josh’s eyes, his face soft with concern, a quiet understanding in his gaze.

"hey,” he said, his voice low, cutting through the madness. “you okay?”

the world slowed. his presence was the grounding force you needed, the anchor that pulled you back from the edge of panic. you inhaled deeply, feeling your heart rate slowly return to normal, the suffocating weight of the moment lifting. 

“yeah...” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “i think i am now.”

you both turned back to the cameras, the bright flashes momentarily blinding you, but josh’s presence beside you grounded you. his hand, warm and firm around yours, tugged you gently, guiding you into a slow spin. the world around you seemed to slow as you turned, the cacophony of the red carpet fading into the background. 

“isn’t she so beautiful, ladies and gents?” josh’s voice rang out, effortlessly confident, the words slipping out like a natural compliment, as though it was the simplest truth in the world. 

all that was heard were cheers and whistles surrounding you.

you couldn’t help but laugh.  a genuine, startled laugh, the kind that bubbled up from deep inside you. the sound echoed around you, and it felt like the air cleared for just a moment, like the weight of the night lifted. you stumbled slightly, your feet shifting against the plush carpet, and found yourself falling back against him. 

his arms caught you instinctively, pulling you close. the warmth of his chest against your back, the steady pressure of his hand on your waist. you glanced up, meeting his gaze, and suddenly the world didn’t seem so big, it didn't feel so overwhelming. 

but josh’s eyes, dark and intent, told you everything without a single word. there was something there. something unspoken, a silent intensity that left you breathless. it was in the way he looked at you, the way his lips quirked into a small, almost shy smile, and the way his thumb traced slow circles on your skin. his hand never left you, his touch steady, grounding you in the middle of the chaos.

you could feel the pull between you, magnetic, undeniable. the longing was palpable, the unspoken words that hovered between you both. it wasn’t just the physical closeness, the way your bodies fit together so naturally, or the way his hands held you with such ease. it was the way his eyes never strayed from yours, like he was trying to convey everything that words couldn’t. 

in that moment, it was clear — everything you both needed was right here, in the quiet tension between a glance and a breath.

and for a fleeting second, you almost forgot about the cameras, the lights, the flashes. you almost forgot about everything and just stayed in that space, just the two of you, with the unsaid words hanging in the air.

it wasn’t long before you two made your way into the theater.

you followed josh inside. the world outside had momentarily faded away as the two of you found your seats, the lights dimming around you. the film was about to start, but there was no denying the tension between you.

as the opening credits rolled, you tried to focus on the screen, your own face staring back at you larger than life. it was surreal, seeing yourself up there, but despite the excitement, there was something else that kept drawing your attention away. josh. 

you could feel his presence beside you, warm and steady. his leg brushed against yours, sending a small jolt through you. the whole theater could’ve been empty, and you still would’ve been hyper aware of him. 

the movie played on, but you couldn't quite get lost in it. your heart raced, every subtle movement from josh had you second guessing your focus. his hand was now dangerously close to yours, just a few inches away. with every frame, your breath caught a little more, the anticipation mounting. 

ever so slowly, josh’s fingers inched toward yours. you held your breath, hoping it wouldn’t be too obvious. but as he grazed the back of your hand, a little shiver ran through you. you turned your palm up ever so slightly, just enough for him to get the hint. 

his fingers brushed against yours again, this time lingering for just a moment. your heart hammered in your chest, and you couldn't help the sly grin that tugged at the corner of your mouth. his eyes flicked over to you, a mischievous glint in them, before his hand fully settled in yours, fingers intertwining. 

you both glanced at each other, and for a moment, the world outside of that theater vanished. the film could have been playing a thousand scenes, and neither of you would have noticed. the only thing that mattered was the warmth of josh’s hand in yours, the way he squeezed it gently.

by the time the credits rolled and the lights came up, you both were still sitting close, your hands now very obviously intertwined. there was a satisfied, playful grin on both your faces, a mutual understanding of what had just happened between you, and neither of you could stop the little spark of joy that flickered in your chest. 

the crowd outside the theater had thinned, and there were only a few straggling onlookers left. the lack of paparazzi made the air feel lighter, more intimate. the flashing cameras, the constant eyes on you, had disappeared as quickly as they’d arrived, leaving only the steady presence of josh by your side. his hand was still firmly wrapped around yours, and though the world seemed to fall away, you couldn't help but feel the weight of all the whispered glances from the few people still lingering around.

you snuck a glance at him, and he caught it, his eyes meeting yours with a playful smile. you both walked in silence toward the exit, but the tension between you was thick. it wasn’t just the excitement from the night, or the high of seeing yourself on the big screen, it was something else. something you couldn’t quite name yet, but you felt it every time his fingers brushed against yours.

once you reached the parking lot, you turned to him. "do you want to come back to my place?" the words felt sudden, but they were honest. he raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk pulling at his lips, but he didn’t hesitate.

"yeah, i'd like that," he said softly, his hand tightening around yours as you made your way to his car.

the drive was quiet but not uncomfortable. the radio hummed quietly in the background, but it was his presence that consumed your attention. every so often, you'd catch his eyes glancing at you, his face softening with a tenderness that made you feel both a little breathless. 

when you reached your apartment, he pulled up to the curb and parked, smoothly shifting into neutral. before you could reach for the door handle, he was already there, opening it for you. his fingers curled around the edge of the door. he offered you his hand, helping you out. it was such a casual thing, but it still managed to pull a smile out of you, the kind that you had to look away to hide.

he walked alongside you to your front door, his presence warm against the cool night air. he waited patiently, a step behind as you fished your keys from your bag. you could feel his eyes on you, attentive but soft, like he was memorising this small moment. the lock clicked, and you pushed the door open, stepping inside and feeling the rush of warmth against your skin.

he stepped inside, his focus shifting to the family photos on the walls as he moved with unhurried steps. the silence felt heavy now, filled only by the click of your heels across the floor as you set your handbag on the counter. you could hear the quiet scuff of his shoes as he followed, moving closer, the distance between you shrinking with every breath.

josh stood in front of you, his eyes softening as he took in the tension on your face. he could see it. the way your brows furrowed slightly, the way your lips were pressed together. the worry was evident, and it made him feel an unfamiliar ache in his chest. 

"hey," he said, his voice low and gentle, "what’s going on? you’ve been quiet ever since we got here." he took a small step closer, his eyes never leaving yours as if he was waiting for you to say something, anything. 

you opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat, trapped somewhere between confusion and guilt. what could you say? how could you explain the mess inside your head, the things that had been eating away at you for the past year?

you felt his presence growing stronger, like he was waiting for you to reach out, but you couldn’t. you didn’t know how to bridge the distance that had built up between you, even if it was only in your own heart. 

“i– i don’t know how to say this.” your voice cracked slightly, betraying the emotions you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel until now. 

josh tilted his head, concern deepening in his eyes. “you don’t have to explain anything if you’re not ready, but i'm here to listen if you are.” 

his words, that small gesture of understanding, only made the pressure in your chest tighten. the last year had been filled with silence, each day spent wondering if you’d made the wrong choice. and now, standing before him, feeling the warmth of his presence, you were finally forced to confront the truth. 

was it worth it to trust someone else's words over his?

“olivia said... she said some things about you. about us,” you began, your throat tight as you struggled to find the words. “i let her get into my head. and i chose to believe them. since i've seen past tabloids of you, and i just... i don’t know. it made me think maybe i was just another girl to you, josh. that i was nothing special.” the words were difficult to choke out, like each one took something from you.

you took a shaky breath, your voice thick with the emotion you’d been holding back for so long. “i know i should have talked to you, josh. i should’ve just asked you if it was true, if i was just another girl in a long line of flings. but i couldn’t bring myself to do it.” you looked down, your gaze fixed on the floor as you admitted the hardest part. “i was terrified. i was scared that if i asked, on the off chance that it was true, it would hurt even worse than believing the lie.”

josh’s expression shattered, he’d just realised how deep the wound went. he moved even closer, his hands sliding up to gently cradle your face, forcing you to look at him. “god, i hate that you felt that way,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “you should never have had to doubt us. i should’ve made sure you knew how much you meant to me. i’m so sorry.”

your chest tightened, a fresh wave of tears spilling over as you finally let yourself lean into his touch, the warmth of his palms grounding you in the moment. it was like he was trying to hold all the broken pieces of you together, the way his thumbs gently stroked your cheeks.

“i didn’t know,” you whispered, your voice raw. “i didn’t know if it was real, or if i was just something temporary for you.”

“it’s real,” josh said urgently, his forehead pressing against yours. “it’s always been real with you. and i should’ve done more to show you that. i’m here now, and i’m not letting go again.”

“i should’ve trusted you,” you whispered, the guilt bubbling to the surface. "but the way she said it, the way it all just seemed to line up... i thought maybe she was right. i thought maybe you were just... playing around." you swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. “i didn’t know what to think anymore. and i pushed you away.”

josh’s hands slid to your shoulders, his grip gentle but firm. “i get why you felt that way, but i’m not like that. i never have been with you.” his voice dropped, becoming more vulnerable. “i’ve been falling for you this whole time. and i know i messed up.

i didn’t fight hard enough for us when i should’ve.” he sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “i should’ve told you how i felt. i shouldn’t have let you think i was anything like those guys. i’m not.”

you stood there, trying to process everything he was saying, the rawness in his words hitting you. the walls you had built around yourself started to crack, the defences you’d spent a year erecting finally starting to crumble in the face of his honesty. 

“i don’t want to be just another fling, josh,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. “i need to know i mean something to you.”

“you do,” he said, his voice almost pleading now. “you mean everything to me.” his hands slid down your arms, holding onto you with a desperate kind of tenderness. “i’ve been stupid, letting this distance grow between us. i never stopped caring about you. and i’m sorry for not saying it sooner. i can’t keep pretending i don’t feel this way.” 

the air between you was thick, almost stifling, as if every unsaid word hung there, waiting. your chest rose and fell, breaths coming a little faster than they should. he looked at you, searching your face like he was trying to find the right thing to say, but couldn’t.

for a second, you just stood there, both caught in that in between place, uncertain, but wanting more than you were willing to admit. you could see the way his gaze flickered, the way his hands hovered by his sides, like he was debating whether to reach for you.

you took the leap first, stepping into him and pressing your lips to his. the kiss was simple but real, like a question and an answer all at once. he exhaled against your mouth, almost a sigh of relief, and his hands found your waist, pulling you closer, like he’d been waiting for this as long as you had.

when you pulled back, the tension melted away, replaced by something softer, almost gentle. he rested his forehead against yours, letting out a quiet laugh, almost like he couldn’t believe this was happening. “i’ve wanted this for so long,” he whispered.

you smiled, feeling the weight of everything you’d been carrying start to lift. “me too,” you admitted. “but no more excuses, okay?”

he nodded, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “no more excuses,” he promised.

and with that, you kissed him again, letting yourself fall into it.

trusting that this time, you’d both make it count.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

© ruewrote 2024.

[pickingupmymercedes]

Ways to say "I love you" - Lewis Hamilton

I'm back with more Lew ❤️

warnings: mostly fluff, bit of angsty

wordcount: +3k

important: each drabble was writen as a snippet into different moments with Lewis. There's 10 more of those, but this was getting huge, so this is part 1.

With a hoarse voice, under the blankets

Life had been hectic, as it tended to be around the weeks before the final couple of races. You and Lewis had been on the road since mid October, not really going back to Europe since the US GP in Texas. The week off between São Paulo and Las Vegas the perfect opportunity to take a few days off in California with his friends. It was tiring, but you’d never complain of having a full passport as a down feature for your job.

The week of the Las Vegas GP was packed of events and promo for everyone, and to top it off a quick impromptu meeting with the board in the media day of the GP turned into a 5 hours long debate, that went well into the night.

You got back to your suite almost at midnight in serious need of a shower and some sleep. What you didn’t predict was Lewis already tucked into the bed, sound asleep.

You tiptoed around the room to try and find your things, not being lucky in the slightest you settled for a shirt Lewis had used in the road trip from LA to Vegas. The quick shower, only meant to decompress, had you engulfed in Lewis’ perfume, from both his shower products and shirt.

Lewis soft breathing guided you to the bed in the darkness of the room and when you got under the soft covers a pair of arms guided you to his chest, the one place sure to get you blacked out in minutes.

“They're in serious trouble for keeping you for so long” his horse voice an indication he had been in deep sleep already

“Sorry, took longer than we expected”

“Can’t wait to have you all to myself. Gonna have to lock you up at home during winter”

“No need, I’ll always find my way to you”. You mumbled into his neck, already nestling closer to him, ready to drift off.

A scream

“I love you” You screamed when you realized you’d never catch him, mid airport track, hoping the wind would somehow carry your words. His head turned abruptly, his face had confusion written all over his features, he was stuck in place, too stunned to comprehend the sudden confession you were hollering to the world but couldn’t say aloud to him just hours ago. You ran to him, security, people and restrictions be damned, that was your one chance.

“I love you, Lewis. I have loved you for longer than I care to admit, I have not stopped loving you even when I said I didn’t, even when hating you was all I wanted.” within arm’s reach you admitted breathlessly, doe eyes looking at you with such intensity you were sure he could see into your soul. His hands cautiously outstretching towards yours, waiting for you to take it, waiting for your mind to catch up to the feelings you had just admitted, waiting to see if you’d finally let your heart take over.

You didn’t take his hand though, going instead for the back of his neck, caressing the soft skin at the base of his hairline with your fingers, his overwhelming gaze waiting for your next move, for you to fully give in, looking from his eyes to his mouth until his scent and his touch were all that you felt. His hold on the lower of your back, the brush of his eyelashes on your cheeks and his taste on your lips were all you could ever want. The decision of a lifetime, one that after that day you would make every day, over and over.

On a random Tuesday afternoon, the late sunlight glowing in your hair

The thing with Lewis was he was too much of an Capricorn for his own good, the earth in him urged for stability and trust, and in the familiarity and serenity of home he urged for security, not that he wanted a predictable life, but he wished that no matter what, he had someone he could fall back on.

“Move in with me” He blurred out of nowhere causing you to lightly laugh at him, scotching closer to his chest as if there was any space left between you, both laying comfortably tangled in each other in his house in London. Pillows and blankets around you on the floor, the late afternoon sunlight hitting the glass on the dining table and reflecting up at the ceiling, a movie on the tv neither were paying attention to.

“I mean it. I don’t see myself without you, I don’t want to anyway.” he almost whispered in your ears, the low volume to his voice amplifying the seriousness in his proposal. Turning your head to look at him you held your gaze into his for minutes, almost daring him to call off the offer, but he never did. His warm smile spreading onto his features when you crocked your head and smirked, specks of the late sunlight glowing where they hit your hair.

“I’d love to” you murmured, straddling him and pushing his chest so he’d lay back down on the blankets, hovering your face over his, leaving ghostly soft kisses on his lips, coming back up to look him in the eye, time and time again. Convincing yourself that it was okay to finally let your walls down for good.

“I love you; you know?!” a statement so surely presented to your, so pure. He didn’t wait to hear it back before pulling your to his chest and his lips, he didn’t have to.

When baking chocolate chip cookies

“We’re baking chocolate chip cookies!” You exclaimed as you entered his home gym in London mid-winter break, supplies in hand already anticipating half of the ingredients wouldn’t exist in his fridge.

“Excuse me?” He questioned as he set the weights down and reached for the towel to get the sweat dry from his forehead

“C’mom, vegan chocolate chip cookies” you rushedly told him already half way back inside, leaving a confused Lewis searching for any meaning to what had just happened.

As he approached his kitchen, he could hear the soft music playing in the speakers in the background while you danced around arranging the things you’d need.

“Care to explain, love?” He leaned at the stool just under the glistening spotlight and the couple of trays spread at the kitchen island.

“Your niece and nephew are coming over tomorrow” She retorted, almost a duh expression on her features as she chopped the vegan chocolate bar.

“Y/n, they know I’m preparing for the season” He lovingly replied, getting closer to you.

“Oh, they’re not exactly for you, Lew. I mean, they’re still vegan if you want to try them.” You turned into his embrace, leaving a kiss to the corner of his lips before wiggling back to where the many food items were.

“You show up at my house midafternoon, fully stacked, to bake vegan cookies for kids that aren’t coming until tomorrow and don’t really expect to eat anything but fruits ?!” He crocked his head, smirk fully on display as his eyes gleamed.

“That’s like half the reason I came. Apples and bananas are fine, but they are kids.” You shrugged as that was the most obvious thing.

“We’re really baking cookies then, I guess?!” He reached to you and grabbed the flour off of your hand, pouring it into a bowl.

“Chocolate chip cookies” You corrected him, laughing as he stole a few of the chopped chocolates still sitting on the chopping board 

 

Not said to me

You jolted up from your sleep when you heard a loud cry, frantically looking around the room you remembered you weren’t home when your eyes found the luggage in the corner, yours and Lewis’s belongings neatly tucked in the adjoining closet, a stark contrast to the baby clothes and toys scattered around the floor and armchairs. Slowly coming to your senses, you realized the crying was in your dreams when you heard a happy babble, followed by your husband’s low voice coming from the balcony of the hotel room.

“Sshh love, we don’t want to wake mamma up now do we? She’s taking a nap so we can go for a walk down the beach later.” The little girl instantly responding with a babble at the word she knew all too well.

Getting up you didn’t have the heart to interrupt the scene that played out when you peaked from the opened French doors of the room, deciding to quietly watch from the threshold as he kept blowing raspberries onto your daughter’s tummy, the chunky toddler in nothing but her diapers, in the hot afternoon summer breeze of Italy in July, excitedly clapping her hands for her dad while sitting on his legs.

“Oh, I miss her too baby, even when she’s just in the other room… I’ll tell you a secret though, even if momma tells the world we’re twins, every time I see your eyes, I see hers, the same one I’ve been in love with for a long time. Everyone says you are my hard carbon copy, but I love that I get to look into a piece of your mommy whenever I look at you".

When we lay together by the sun

The sun in your skin felt divine, a stark contrast to the wintery end of year you’d been having back in Europe, the heat and humidity in the air bringing to your senses the familiarity of northeast Brazilian weather in the hottest months of the year. His touch on your shoulder blades providing even more warmth, big hands massaging your whole back with sunscreen.

“By all means I’m the biggest fan of your back massages, but I put on sunscreen just a couple of hours ago” you giggled looking at him over your shoulders, sunglasses on the tip of your nose.

“Just making sure you’re protected, will you do mine?” He asked after tying the strings on the upper part of your bikini and giving your bum a checky light smack.

“Yeah… come here you Briton” grabbing him by the arms you sat up on the lounger and guided him to sit in between in your legs, his back already hot from the sun exposure.

“Thank you for coming here with me, I know we made it a 4 times header not going home to rest for a bit after Mexico.” You told him while spreading the white content of the Brazilian sunscreen you’d bought, throwing away the british one, not properly suited to sun in the tropics from your past experiences.

“Any time, love.” turning to face you he pulled you by the waist, his signature smirk and relaxed eyes scanning yours. “Especially when it includes this little paradise.”

“Have I told you I love you yet?” You questioned, the toothy grin he loved so much splattered on your face, his strong arms around you, the sounds of crashing waves in the background, white sand in your toes and his skin smelling just like your favorite childhood memories did.

“Not today, I don’t think so. Eu te amo” a questioning look as he tested his Portuguese around you, crushing his lips in yours while you giggled, raising you up to his body so he could hold you in his lap, his touch also how home felt to you. 

Over and over again, till it’s nothing but a senseless babble

He felt the first little droplets of rain hit his skin as soon as she screamed “run”, laughing while holding her oversized hat to her head. He sprinted towards her, grabbing her waist, effortlessly stopping them both and turning her body to him, her eyes holding the warmth that lately he could only find there, his face adorned with adoration, her dimples fully showing as her lips plastered the sweetest of grins.

“I love you” He couldn’t help himself, those 3 little words coming out as easily as breath, the thought of how hard it’d been to get them out in the first place long forgotten. She held his gaze as if trying to eternalize those memories, the afternoon summer rain falling hard around them whilst rays of sunlight hit the concrete, their clothes drenched, drops of water running down their tangled bodies.

“I love you; I love you; I love you” senseless babbles that professed his utmost emotion, holding her up to him and kissing in the pouring rain like they were teenagers in a cheesy movie.

A whisper in the ear

Being back to Europe always took you some time to get acclimated, and it didn’t help that that particular winter had been the coldest in years, so much colder than what your body was used to, so you wrapped yourself up in blankets waiting for your boyfriend to get out of the shower and join you in bed, hopefully helping you to warm up.

His parents, siblings, niece and nephew were gathered for an impromptu 5 days getaway in the mountains, in the middle of wintery January, snow everywhere and days filled with winter sports, fireplaces and laughter from the people that had welcomed you as family. 

“Hey gorgeous, I thought you’d still be down there” he smirked his way to the open luggage on the little sofa by the bed, towel low on his hips and another in his hand for his face.

“Everyone went to bed, something about getting some sleep to beat you on the slopes tomorrow” You giggled the last part, knowing how competitive they could get. He chuckled and made his way towards you, getting under the blankets and bringing you over to his side, just his presence enough to soothe away the tight muscles from the cold.

“How come you’re always running so cold?” he whispered in your hair, wrapping his arms around your waist and hips and bringing you to his chest. His skin radiating warmth and the smell of your body wash, since he’d forgotten to pack his. Fingers absentmindedly tracing random patterns on your thighs, your eyes lazily trying to focus on the news on the tv but failing miserably, the world could wait until the next morning.

“I love you” was the last thing you heard he whisper, his hoarse voice heavy with sleep, his arms scooching your body closer to his while making sure the blankets covered you both before he let his own sleep take over.

As we huddle together, the storm raging outside

Sundays after races would always be busy for the both of you. The rain was falling hard as you entered the small RV as quietly as you could, founding Lewis ingulfed in his own thoughts and feelings when you finally cleared through your duties, way past the time you wish had.

Taking in how his arms and back looked tense while he rested his head on both his hands sitting in the small sofa, you brought yourself to stand right in front of him, softly running your finger on his neck until he looked up offering a sad side smile and tugged you to his lap. You hadn’t spoken to each other since before he got in his car, well over 4 hours prior, but you didn’t have to.

He needed time to process what happened, he always did. Lewis could always come to interviews looking like he had it all together, always with the right words, but you knew, from the crease in his forehead and the way his shoulders dropped whenever he breathed a little deeper, that his calculating-looking actions and words were just knee-jerk reactions.

“I love you” you said into his neck, a consolation of sorts, huddling together, sitting on his lap with his head resting on your chest and his arms holding your waist tightly. At least in that small room, neither of you had to think about the storm brewing outside, not yet anyway.

Over the shoulder

The championship had, yet again, came down to the last race and the doom could be felt even from outsiders. The last time it happened Lewis wasn’t even a Ferrari driver, but everyone remembered.

You had tried to block the subject from your conversations with him, warned everyone he had enough of the comparisons, made sure he had all the space to breath, concentrate and shield all the noise from the outside. Yet, in the apparent serenity of the hotel bedroom, the quietness would scream back at him.

“What if it’s not meant to be?” He snapped you out of your thoughts as you finished some reports on your computer. His eyes a mix of something you couldn’t quite pint point, his walls up even for you.

“Then you’re still a 7 times world champion, a driver who’s won for McLaren, Mercedes and Ferrari, a trailblazer in the sport, entrepreneur over a variety of assets, founder of Mission 44, British knight, Brazilian honorary citizen, Anthony and Carmen’s son, Nicolas’ brother, my mom’s favorite son-in-law… oh and Roscoe’s dad, of course.” He smiled as you got to his family, scootching over to be by your side on the balcony sofa and laying his head on your lap.

“I would hate to be an almost champion… twice”   

“Yeah, we would all hate that too. And it’s okay to feel all kinds of way about possible results, but we’re not gonna known until we know, right?!”  You felt him humm in response, your fingertips going through his braids, trying to sooth the tensions away from him.

It wasn’t until the soft humming of a phone in the bedroom that you realized you had fallen asleep in the balcony, his body moving almost automatically to get him up while his features revealed how he too had dozed off.

“Will you still love an almost champion?” He prompted suddenly, almost like he had just remembered he had to know, eyes twinkling under the lights.

“Babe, I stayed even in the timbs phase, didn’t I?” You smirked back earning a full soundless chuckle, those that had him reach for his diaphragm and shake his head left to right.

“You’re lucky I love you; you really are.” You heard as he looked over his shoulders just as he got back inside.

[mc-i-r]

Disposable Heroes

Part one, Part two, Part three, Part four AO3 link

A/N: hi yes so sorry for how late this is, it turned into a huge monster of a fic that I’m still working on but I figured posting the first part wouldn’t hurt. This is based on this post by @liightsnow, @acowardinmordor, and @00biscuit while back and I decided to expand that concept a bit and here we are. I'll be tagging anyone that seemed interested in the concept at the end of the fic! Warnings are below but I just wanna say that Steve is struggling with his sexuality in this one so most of it comes from that. This will absolutely have a happy ending, just not right now. Enjoy the angst!

Tw: internalized homophobia, homophobic language, mentions of canon violence, dissociation, panic attacks

———

It’s a Sunday afternoon when he realizes it. Steve is sitting on his couch, eating a shitty frozen meal and watching a random movie on TV when it hits him. The kids haven’t asked him for a ride in two weeks. Two Saturdays have passed and there was not one call— either on the phone or over the walkie— from any of the kids. Not even Dustin, who has seemed to make it his life’s mission in the past couple years to annoy Steve into an early grave.

It’s not like he hasn’t seen them at all. He still practices basketball with Lucas on Thursdays, even though the season is long over. His weekly dinners with Claudia and Dustin are still going strong every Wednesday. Joyce seems to invite him over for dinners every couple weeks. From the outside, everything seems fine. And maybe it is, but Steve’s noticed things.

See, he’s not as stupid as people think he is. He may not be academically smart but he can read. However, instead of books, it’s people. He can read their micro-expressions, notice little signs in their body language that help him understand the person. He can tell when people are nervous when they avoid eye contact, can tell how anxious they are when they distract themselves by picking at their fingers. It’s how he’s so good with the kids. They’re in the stubborn stage of their teenage years, the time in which the only answer you’ll get is ‘I’m fine. Leave me alone’. But he can tell if there’s something on their minds, if there’s something eating away at them.

He can tell that Mike’s anger and pointed barbs are directed towards himself, how he’s struggling with something he can’t quite admit to himself yet. How Max is frustrated with her body, with accepting help, because she’s always had to rely on herself and putting that much trust in someone else has never been an option for her until now. How Lucas is trying to find joy in doing something he loves again, because his love for basketball has been ruined by Carver and his trusty band of assholes. How Dustin is trying to deal with almost losing Eddie, how he’s processing the feelings of almost losing a brotherly figure along with one of his friends. How Will is hiding part of himself, struggling to accept it in the same way Mike is. How El is trying so hard to find her new normal, to adjust to getting her life— her father— back.

There’s another thing he’s noticed, however. It’s that the kids are obsessed with Eddie. Steve from a couple years ago would feel jealous of Eddie, and would try to hold it against him. Now, though, Steve just feels… sad. The kids constantly talk about how cool and badass Eddie is for still being himself despite all the shit Hawkins has thrown at him. They talk about how Eddie takes them places, gets them little trinkets for their nerd game, and takes them fun places. Eddie does all these little things for the kids, lets them just be kids, and really, Steve can’t be mad at him for it. He tries to let them have fun, but his constant worrying overwhelms them. It brings them down. Eddie doesn’t do that. He joins right in with them, basking in the fun and letting himself go. Steve… can’t. Not with all the shit he’s seen. Letting his guard down is something he can’t afford to do anymore.

He sighs down at his meal, chucking it on the coffee table as he loses his appetite. His glasses land next to the disposable plastic tray, sliding across the finished wood surface from the force of his throw. He rubs harshly over his face, hands digging into his eyes until he sees stars.

Steve knows he’s not perfect. Hell, it took an interdimensional monster trying to kill him in order for him to realize that he could be a better person. That the only person truly able to change his life is himself. He used to think he had no choice in his life— whether it was his parents' high expectations of him or his friends trying to mold him into their perfect little plaything— but he knows better now. He knows that he shouldn’t have become King Steve, that he shouldn’t have hurled all his hate and anger towards other people who didn’t deserve it. He knows he shouldn’t have called people names or slurs, that he shouldn’t have spray painted lockers or ripped up books or shoved people against hard asphalt. He knows that, but knowing it was wrong doesn’t erase the fact that it happened. That Steve did those things and hurt people.

Part of him knows that his past is what made the kids turn towards Eddie. Why wouldn’t they? Steve was a bully, thought he was hot shit in school and made it everyone’s problem. Eddie was simply himself. His unabashed, unashamed self. He stood on cafeteria tables, made dramatic speeches, and shared his opinions to anyone and everyone who would listen. He’s so genuine and so, so much better for the kids. He teaches them how to be themselves, how to shove off the hate and embrace their weird side. He’s perfect for them, and Steve knows deep down that this is good for them. The kids need a good role model, one they can rely on, and Eddie has his herd of little sheep to teach and protect. It’s perfect. They’re perfect.

Steve remembers the time last week at the Byers-Hopper house when their little obsession truly became real. They were waiting for the bread to finish baking in the oven, and Steve saw that Will was seated alone in the living room. Joyce and Hopper were in the kitchen, talking and keeping a lookout so the bread wouldn’t burn. Jonathan and El were listening to music in his room, the synth and guitars echoing down the hallway. So, Steve decided to finally talk to Will. It’s not like they don’t talk ever, just… not much. Will is quiet, blends into the background, and Steve never felt like the kid would be comfortable with him trying to get in his business. However, he needed to ask the question that had been on his mind for a while.

Steve sat down on the couch next to him, keeping a fair amount of distance between them, and rested his elbows on his knees. Will was reading a comic, the cover full of bright colors and words, not paying attention. Steve sighed, pushed his glasses up, and ran a hand through his own hair.

“Hey, um… can we talk for a sec?”

Will startled a little, like he didn’t realize Steve was there, and closed his comic. He nodded, and Steve tried not to feel bad about the hesitation in his eyes.

“Is there something going on that I don’t know about? Like with the others?” Will’s eyebrows furrowed, a confused expression taking over his face.

“Um.. what do you mean?”

“Just… have I done anything to them to make them mad? I just… I don’t know, I feel like I’ve done something but I don’t know what,” Steve confessed. He must have looked as distraught as he felt, because Will seemed to soften at his explanation a bit.

“Why do you think that, Steve?” Will asked softly, and Steve had a moment of realization that Will seemed years older than he looked. Steve sighed, and explained that the kids haven’t really been hanging around him much and instead like to spend time with Eddie. He’s quick to clarify that he doesn’t mean anything bad by it, just wants to know what happened. It was Will’s turn to sigh, and he looked at Steve with something akin to sympathy.

“Steve, I don’t say this to be mean but… Eddie just relates to us more, you know? He shares more interests with us, and he seems to get us better,” Will expressed. His eyes widened and he hastily added, “it doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you! Just… it’s nice to have somewhere else to go, you know?”

The rest of the evening was spent with Steve silently eating his dinner, Will’s words echoing through his head as he munched on half-burnt bread.

Steve decides then, TV dinner half-eaten and work vest still on his shoulders, that he’s going to make this better.

The next day, Eddie comes into Family Video to pick up some movies, definitely for a movie night judging by the titles— he seriously doubts a metalhead would willingly watch The Goonies, The Dark Crystal, and Ghostbusters by himself on a Saturday night. Eddie bounds up to the register, movies in hand, and does a dramatic bow as he presents them to Steve.

“I wish to borrow these, my liege,” Eddie declares, his voice deep and in a horrible mockery of an English accent. Steve scoffs and rolls his eyes, unable to hide the small grin on his face at the other man's theatrics.

Eddie looks so effortlessly pretty, his hair tied back in a ponytail and his tattoos exposed through the large arm holes in his homemade tank top. Steve shakes his head to get rid of those thoughts and takes the movies to check them out, ignoring the late fee balance on Eddie's account. A glance at the man in front of him, who is bouncing on his toes and looking around the store, gives Steve an idea.

“Hey, is Hellfire still going on?”

Eddie snaps his attention back to Steve, looking a little startled to be asked such a thing.

“Uh… yeah, it's still going on. We have to play in Gareth’s hot ass garage since school is out but we’re making it work. Why d’you ask?”

“Oh, uh… the kids complained awhile back that they didn’t have a good spot to play anymore and I was just wondering,” Steve explains. Eddie raises an eyebrow at him, and Steve can feel him staring. Can feel him looking at him closely. Too closely. He clears his throat and looks back down at the counter, pushing his gold, wire-framed glasses further up his nose. “I uh… I actually wanted to offer up my place? My parents aren’t home much”— more like never— “and I’ve got plenty of space for the gremlins and the other guys. Plus, my A/C works and I’ve got a shit ton of snacks. I’ll stay out of your hair and-“

“Actually uh…” Eddie cuts him off with a strained voice. Steve looks up to find his face contorted like he ate something sour, and he knows what his response is going to be before he opens his mouth. Eddie wipes a hand over his mouth before shoving it in his pocket. “Yeah, the other guys just… really wouldn’t want to be there.”

Steve nods— tries not to let the denial sting— and looks down at the movies in his hands. Ignoring how they shake, he sets them on the counter and slides them towards Eddie.

“That’s okay man, I get it. I need a break from the little horrors anyway,” he huffs out, the words digging their way into the pit in his stomach. He puts on his best customer service smile and looks up at Eddie, finding him looking a little wary. Eddie hesitates, as if debating with himself on whether or not to say anything, before rapping his knuckles on the counter in a little rhythm and picking up his movies. An awkward smile finds its way to his face, and Steve thinks it strange and out of place. It’s so.. un-Eddie-like. The pit grows deeper.

Walking backwards towards the entrance, Eddie throws a little salute his way before turning and swinging out the door. A belated “see ya, Harrington” drifts through the closing door in his wake.

Steve slumps over the counter when he’s gone, holding his head in his hands and feeling the childish urge to cry make its way up to his eyes. Even after everything— after walking through hell together, dragging his lifeless body out of the Upside Down as his blood dripped down his back and soaked through his clothes, standing vigil at his side until he woke up two weeks later— Eddie still seems to hate him.

But Steve… he feels the opposite. He has this overwhelming desire to be with Eddie. To hang out with him in the back of his van, drinking sodas and eating snacks as they look out over Lover’s Lake while the sun sets. To talk to him until the early hours of the morning until there’s nothing left to say. To go for drives late at night and listen to his loud music on the radio while holding hands over the center console. He has feelings for Eddie he’s never had before. Not for any past romantic conquests nor any girl. Hell, not even for Nancy. He’s never felt this intense need to be near someone before, and it scares him. It truly terrifies him.

He’s not homophobic— his platonic soulmate is a lesbian, for Christ's sake— but the fact that he feels this way is just… wrong to him. How is Steve Harrington, ladies’ man and charmer extraordinaire, into dudes? What is he, like, half gay? It just doesn’t make sense, doesn’t seem right, for him to feel like this. He sighs into his hands, digging his palms into his eyes until he sees stars. He can’t be thinking about this now, he can’t be thinking about this at all. He needs to shove it in the box in the back of his head where all the hard feelings go, waiting and festering to be dealt with later. He needs to, but he doesn’t know if he can.

Fuck, he needs to talk to Robin. Shit- can he though? What if what he’s feeling is a fluke or something? What if it’s just in his head because he’s desperate? What if Robin thinks he’s making fun of her and won’t take him seriously? It’s not fair of him to throw all his problems on her, even if he thinks she could help. It’s not her job to look after him, to take care of him. He can do that himself. He can figure this out himself.

Distantly, the words of Richard Harrington play in his ears. About how being gay is wrong, how it’s a disease. How it’s a sickness that slowly takes over until there’s nothing left. How it’s a disgrace.

He remembers sitting in the living room with his parents on a rare occasion in which they were home, watching the news channel as it talked about an epidemic spreading through young men. His father scoffed at the screen when they started talking about potential cures.

“Cures? They should just let those fags die. They brought this on themselves, you know. Typical of them to complain about the fucking consequences,” Richard had spat out at the block TV, standing to refill his bourbon. Steve had clenched his fists at his side, his already stiff posture straightening still. He felt angry at his fathers words, something pure and burning in his gut.

He didn’t know what it was at the time, but maybe he should’ve known. Maybe him being queer shouldn’t be as much of a surprise as it feels. Maybe he’s always known and just couldn’t bring himself to admit it. Maybe that anger he felt at his father’s words was partly on behalf of himself, too.

A wince shudders through him as he remembers how that night ended.

Steve had stood up from the couch, watching the dark liquid flow into the crystal glass in his father’s hand.

“What’s so wrong with being gay? I don’t understand how you could just.. hate people like that. Hate them for just existing,” Steve countered. His father had frozen at his words, slowly setting down the decanter with a solid ‘thunk’ against the metal tray where it belonged and turned to face him. His face was slowly gaining a reddish hue, a sign of the anger rising within him.

“What did you just say?” He demanded, voice scarily calm but laced with an icy rage. Steve swallowed.

“What… What's wrong with being gay, sir?” Steve hesitated, voice failing him. Richard had downed the glass of bourbon before throwing it at Steve, the crystal shattering on the mantelpiece behind him and sending shards flying.

“What’s wrong, Steven, is that you think it’s okay. No son of mine will think like that, not on my watch,” his father boomed, taking long strides towards him. Steve didn’t dare move, only watched his fist grow nearer as he punched him high on his cheek. He fell to the floor, arms trying to protect his head but it was no use. Richard had ripped his arms away, gripping the front of his shirt and making Steve hover above the ground.

“I didn’t raise a fucking fairy, Steven,” he spat. “A faggot.” Steve recoiled, physically feeling the vitriol his father aimed at his face. Richard had sneered, pulled him close and whispered, “Never forget that, Steven,” before shoving him harshly onto the ground and walking away. Black had clouded the edges of his vision, and he laid on the plush rug until it cleared up. He looked over, found his mother silently watching the TV and sipping her wine, and begged with his eyes for her to help him. To say something. Anything. She didn’t, and Steve had to haul himself off the floor, grasping the couch when his vision swam, and stumbled his way to his room.

The rest of that weekend was spent in his room, gingerly cleaning his face and the couple places where glass had cut him on his arms with a wet washcloth and soap. It was the first time he had ever gotten a concussion. He was fifteen.

He remembers replaying the fight over and over again, feeling like those barbs were directed towards him, too. In hindsight, maybe they were. Maybe his father just knew. Knew he was queer long before Steve ever did. Maybe that’s why he’s always so angry with him, so… disappointed. A groan escapes him and he runs a hand through his hair. He’s been thinking way too damn much for it to be this early in the day.

God, he really wishes Robin was here. He knows he can’t talk to her, but it would be nice just to have someone here to keep him from spiraling and drowning in his thoughts. He pushes himself off the counter and goes over to the cart where the returns sit, hoping that busying himself will occupy his thoughts. He sets a few on the shelves when what Eddie said earlier barrels into him full-force.

“Yeah, the other guys just… really wouldn’t want to be there.”

Jesus fucking Christ, he’s stupid. Of course the other Hellfire guys wouldn’t want to be at his house, they probably still see him as King Steve. Most people do, nowadays. Only the ones he went through hell with know he’s different now, that he’s changed. So really, he can’t fault them for being against the idea of Hellfire at his house. He wouldn’t believe it either if he was in their shoes.

Then again, wouldn’t Eddie or the kids try to convince them he’s different? That he’s not a dick? Shit, he’s been through four apocalypses, three concussions, and survived Russian torture— surely they would give him the benefit of the doubt, right? He’s dropped the bad influences out of his life, found better friends, better family— or can he even say that anymore?— to be with. Wouldn’t they try to stick up for him? Or... is he just not worth it?

Steve clenches his eyes shut, willing his bubbling emotions back down, and grips the movie in his hands so hard the plastic begins to creak. The little voice in his head, one that sounds suspiciously like Robin, tells him to breathe. He does. Deep inhale, hold, long exhale. Over and over and over again until he’s calm, until his head is clear.

He knows what he needs to do now: apologize. If it's one thing Steve Harrington knows, it’s how to apologize. Hell, he’s done it more times than he can count. He knows how to repair burnt bridges and how to get past the tough exterior of a person to pull at their heartstrings for sympathy. He knows the key; he just has to make himself useful. If he can provide things for the kids, for Eddie and the Hellfire crew, then they’ll want him around. That’s how it’s always been. That’s how it is with his parents, with school, with his past friends, and now his current ones. He vaguely recalls his junior year art teacher saying that, "once is an accident, twice is a coincidence, but thrice is a pattern." Which means this, this is something he has to make right.

With a plan solidified in his mind, he goes back to work refilling the shelves with movies, brainstorming ideas to get his family back.

Over the next week, Steve becomes a one man show. He offers up more rides, more movie nights, more free reign of his house and his pool and his car and his money and himself just to make the kids happy. He picks up extra shifts at work just to get extra spending money for them, knowing that they go through twenty bucks in no time.

But… it doesn’t work. Because bit by bit, ride by ride, movie marathon by family dinner by game night by post-nightmare phone call, it becomes painfully clear. Everyone puts on a mask around him. One that says they’re happy to see him, that they’re glad he’s here, but he knows it’s a lie. This, really, shouldn’t be much of a surprise. People don’t stick around him much, so why did he think this was any different?

Maybe it’s because he was finally himself around them, he finally opened up and showed a bit of his true self, and was still rejected. Still pushed away. He wasn’t cowering behind a mask this time, he was just Steve. But it wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t good enough.

To their credit, it starts off slow. Casual comments that are cut off quickly, kicks under dinner tables and pointed throat clearing. It’s one instance during game night where it all clicks.

The Monopoly board is spread out before them in the Byers-Hopper living room. Steve, of course, is losing. He’s not good with investments and savings and he keeps landing on the goddamn ‘jail’ space but he doesn’t really care, not when he’s finally having fun with the kids. He groans when the dice make him land on one of Mike’s properties, shuffling his fake cash to pull out the tax money.

“C’mon this game is totally rigged. How the hell am I losing to a bunch of teens?” He grumbles as Mike proudly snatches the money from his hand. Max snickers from her place beside him, her pale blue eyes rolling as she looks at him.

“You know, if you actually used your brain then maybe you wouldn’t be losing. Ever think of that?” She quips, and Steve huffs. Leave it to him to be called out by a fifteen year old.

“I’m surprised there’s even a brain in there to begin with,” Dustin states. He’s seated across from Steve. “I mean, why else would he have-“

His comment is cut off by Lucas smacking his arm. Dustin looks at him like he’s about to protest when Lucas raises his eyebrows, looking pointedly from Dustin to Steve and back again. Steve can’t hear from his position so far away, but he swears Dustin mutters “shit” before crossing his arms and looking down at the board. Steve looks around at the rest of the group, noticing how none of them seem to want to look at him, choosing to focus rather intently on the cardboard before them.

The rest of the game is filled with awkward silences. Steve can feel them looking at him when he’s occupied, and it makes him feel like shit inside.

It’s on the drive home when it hits him. He is the one that doesn’t fit into their group, into their family. They’re slowly but surely removing him and replacing him with Eddie. With someone who fits. With someone better. It hits him so hard, so fully, that he has to pull over on a quiet street to sob in his empty car.

The first time it's fully solidified in his mind is at a barbecue at the Byers-Hoppers house. Robin can’t come, her aunt from up north is visiting for the weekend and she has to stay home. Steve walks through the house, planning on saying hello to Joyce before joining the party outside. He finds Joyce talking low to Eddie in the kitchen and he pauses in the doorway, watches how Joyce laughs at something Eddie says. How she places her hand on his arm as her eyes crinkle with the weight of her laugh. Eddie is smiling, open and wide, with a flush high on his cheeks that stains his skin pink. His dimples are on full display and it takes pure willpower for Steve not to go and poke at them, to settle his thumb in the divot of his skin.

Joyce leans close to Eddie and says something under her breath, making him blush purely red now and shush her, causing another wave of laughter to ripple through the both of them. The kitchen is filled with warmth, the afternoon sunlight streaming in through the sheer cream-colored curtains that line the two windows as laughter fills the room. It’s light, it’s happiness, it’s love. It’s something Steve hasn’t felt in years.

Steve knocks on the doorframe, waggling his fingers in greeting. They both turn to look at him, and all that warmth from before flees the room. If he hadn’t just seen the thin rays with his own two eyes, he could have sworn even the sun went down as well. He feels a stab of pain in his heart, so sharp it makes his breath stutter. He fights to put a smile on his face, briefly clearing his throat and praying his voice doesn’t sound as faint as he feels.

“Hey, Ms. Byers. Eddie,” he greets. Steve runs a hand through his hair, just to give himself something to do. “Just wanted to say hi before I go outside.”

Eddie’s face has gone completely slack, the only thing convincing Steve he didn’t hallucinate the entire exchange earlier is the flush that had yet to leave his cheeks. In fact, Eddie looks even more red now that he’s made his presence known. Joyce, to her credit, has a small polite smile on her face.

“Thank you, Steve, that's very kind of you,” she replies. She casts a glance at Eddie out of the corner of her eye, something Steve has noticed a lot of people do to each other when he’s around. “You go on outside now, okay? I’m sure the kids are missing you.”

Steve holds back his remark of “yeah, I actually doubt that” and nods, leaving the two of them in the kitchen as he continues down the hallway. He tries hard not to let the harshness of their quick whispers dig further into his already injured heart.

Once outside, he’s greeted by no one. Dustin and Lucas are discussing something rapidly to one another, Dustin gesturing wildly with his hands as Lucas nods along and adds details. Max and El are sitting on a lawn chair together, Max seemingly teaching El how to braid her hair. Mike and Will are sitting in the grass a bit away from the group, shoulders touching and heads bowed together as they talk quietly to one another. Steve smiles softly at them, knowing.

He makes his way over to Hopper, who is manning the grill with a beer in one hand and a spatula in the other. Steve waves and gives him an awkward little smile, and Hopper nods his head, pointing towards a cooler with his beer. Steve grabs one, popping it open and taking an, admittedly, big first swig. Hopper doesn’t notice, or at least doesn’t comment, and Steve looks out over the people he still considers his family. He catches Dustin’s eyes, hoping to have someone to talk to, but the kid only looks away and continues his conversation.

So now Steve is here by himself, slowly nursing a beer, and trying to keep his emotions in check.

It’s just that… he doesn’t know what he did. Was he too overbearing or did he not care enough? Was he too pushy or too distant? Was he just annoying them? Was he just an inconvenience? Did they ever really like him or did they just put up with them out of necessity? Or because they felt bad?

He takes another sip of beer, hating the way it tastes on his tongue but it’s better than the bile slowly rising in his throat. All he wants is for someone to see him, to see who he truly is and like it. To stick around. To stay.

And it’s true, he does have Robin, but sometimes she can’t give him what he needs. Call him a romantic but Steve wants that love, that connection, that intense feeling you get with a partner. He craves it more than anything. He wants to touch, to taste, to feel someone else.

Eddie. He wants Eddie.

A voice interrupts his thoughts.

“Kid, will you go get me a plate for the burgers?” Hopper asks, his gruff voice shoving all of his mushy thoughts aside. Steve nods, sets his beer on top of the cooler, and makes his way inside. He silently dreads ever walking in that room again, dreads having to feel the chill from before. However, the scene in the kitchen is drastically different this time. Joyce is by herself, Eddie nowhere to be seen, and is mixing together slaw in a big tupperware bowl.

Steve knocks on the frame again and is met with a small smile from the older woman. It’s infinitely more warm than the one he was met with when he got there, and he thinks it’s partly due to the lack of a certain metalhead in the room. Joyce sets down her spoon, wiping her hands on a nearby towel, and holds her arms out.

“C’mere, honey,” she murmurs, and Steve tries not to let her soft tone get to him. The last thing he needs is to cry in front of everyone. He walks forwards into her hug, leaning down a little to wrap his arms around her properly, and sighs when she rubs her hands up and down his back. Steve clenches his eyes shut, taking in stuttering breaths that he knows she can hear but thanks every god out there that she doesn’t comment on it. She taps her hands twice on his back and pulls away, reaching up to push some of his hair off his forehead and Steve wills himself to not lean into the touch too much.

“Sorry for not saying a proper hello earlier, I was a bit preoccupied. Eddie- well, that’s not my thing to tell but he needed some help with something and… well, you get it,” she smiles, laughs a little, and Steve smiles back.

This. This is what he wishes he could have with his parents. This lightness, this love. He never will, he knows that, but the little moments like this with Joyce, the way she hugs him and cares for him, are ones he treasures. Ones he wishes he could have everyday. Joyce is a wonderful mother, and part of him wishes he could have her as his own. Hell, she’s been more of a mother to him in the four years he’s known her than his mother ever has. But he knows that isn’t fair. It isn’t fair of him to put his parental issues on her or anyone else. So he doesn’t, and shoves his hands in his pockets instead.

“It’s okay, Ms. Byers, I get it. Sorry to interrupt you two, though,” he apologizes. She waves her hands in a shooing motion.

“Oh don’t apologize for that, honey, it’s okay,” she smiles, then hesitates. “I do want you to promise me something, okay?” Steve nods, and Joyce places her hands on either side of his face. “Promise me you’ll be careful with people, be gentle. Not everyone can be treated the same, some people… they’re special.

“Sometimes, it’s better to listen. Promise me, Steve, that you’ll always listen, okay?” She asks, and Steve has to swallow before he responds.

“I promise, Ms. Byers,” he replies, and she pats his cheek. Her smile has grown, and her eyes have softened.

“I love you, Steve, you know that, right?” Joyce asks, and it’s like the world has stopped moving. He didn’t know that, not really. Sure, he knew she liked him but he didn’t know she…

He doesn’t realize he’s tearing up until Joyce coos at him, wiping away a few stray tears that have escaped with her thumbs.

“I-I didn’t know you- I’m sorry, I don’t-“ Steve stutters out, but Joyce shushes him.

“You don’t have to apologize, Steve, it’s alright,” she insists. Her thin arms pull him into another hug and he buries his face in her shoulder. The angle is a little awkward, but it’s a comfort Steve hasn’t had in ages so he stays. “It’s gonna be alright.”

Her small hands rub up and down his back as he holds back tears. He regulates his breathing, taking in deep breaths and letting them out slowly, until he’s sure he won’t cry. He pulls back from the hug and wipes at his eyes, sure that they're red-rimmed and a little puffy, but Joyce only smiles that warm smile and pats his cheek again. Steve smiles at her, the first genuine smile he thinks he’s had in awhile, and it feels good. To smile and know it's real.

Joyce turns to the counter behind her and picks up a plate, handing it to Steve. His brows furrow, and he hesitantly takes the offered crockery.

“How did you-“

“I had a feeling,” she interrupts him with a wink. “Now go on before Hop burns the yard down.”

Steve smiles and goes back outside, handing the plate to Hop and ignoring his grumble of “took ya long enough”, before picking his beer back up and taking a much needed swig. A few minutes later, they’re all eating. Eddie has joined Dustin and Lucas in their rambling, all three of them loudly talking over one another. Steve watches them; wishing, wanting, yearning. Joyce bumps her shoulder into his, making him swivel his head to look down at her. She smiles, almost knowingly, and Steve blushes. He clears his throat and looks away, focusing on fixing his burger rather than whatever the fuck that was.

He sits alone away from the group, catching occasional glances from Joyce, Dustin, and Hopper. Joyce is concerned, he can tell that much, and part of her almost looks sad. Dustin looks conflicted, like he can’t decide if he wants to be mad from a distance or just come right up to Steve and say it to his face. Steve wouldn’t be surprised if he did the latter. Hopper, to Steve’s complete unsurprise, looks uninterested and, frankly, fed up with this whole situation. Steve doesn’t blame him, he is too.

After the food is gone, and dessert is served, Steve heads inside to help clean up. He washes dishes quietly with Joyce, while she dries them and puts them away. As he finishes up the last plate, Will comes into the kitchen.

“Hey, Mom? The party wanted to play some board games, is that okay?” He requests, and Steve can feel Joyce soften beside him. She smiles.

“Of course, honey. Make sure you ask the girls what they want to play, too, okay?” Will rolls his eyes and smiles, a mannerism Steve notes he definitely got from Mike.

“Got it, Mom,” he replies, and runs off. Steve turns back to the sink, realizing he’s been scrubbing the plate well past the point of clean, and rinses it off.

“I um.. I think I’m going to head out, Ms. Byers,” he begins. He hands the plate to her. “I’ve got a shift tomorrow and uh… I don’t want to intrude or anything.”

He doesn’t mention that he doesn’t want to repeat the last game night, where everyone kept glancing at him like he was a bomb set to explode at any moment. He doesn’t say that he can’t handle their stares for any longer than he already has.

“Oh, are you sure? You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want to,” Joyce offers, but Steve shakes his head.

“I really should be going, sorry.”

“Alright, dear. Let me walk you out,” she insists, moving to take off her apron.

“I’ll walk him out, Joyce, don’t worry about it,” Hopper's gruff voice interrupts from the doorway. Steve swallows and nods, drying his hands off on a towel. He looks at Joyce, seeing her share a glance and a smile with Hopper before looking back at him. He smiles, finally beginning to think that maybe… maybe things will be okay.

“Thank you, Ms. Byers. For everything,” he expresses. He leans down to give her a hug, her arms quickly hugging him back.

“It’s alright, dear. You come to me if you ever want to talk, you hear?” Steve pulls away from the hug.

“I will, promise,” he hesitates. Steve looks down at his hands, shaking from where they’re clutching each other, and takes a breath. “I… I love you too.”

He looks up right as Joyce pulls him into another hug. He laughs a little, and she pats his back before pulling away with a “be safe”. Hopper clears his throat from the door and Steve takes a step back, nods to Joyce, and follows the other man outside.

They step out on the front porch together, and Steve is prepared to continue walking to his car when Hop places a hand on his shoulder. He stops, and turns to find the man looking at him seriously.

“Son, I want you to promise me something,” he grumbles, and Steve begins to feel a strange sense of deja vu. While Joyce’s tone was soft, Hopper’s is deep and leaves no room for hesitation. He vaguely has a thought that this is what his father would have been like if things were different. If he were different. Steve nods.

“Promise me you’ll fix our shit, alright? I don’t wanna get in the middle of… whatever the hell this is but promise you’ll be better, okay?” He commands, and all the thoughts Steve had earlier about thinking things would be okay fly out the window.

“Y-yes, sir,” he stutters out. Hop claps his shoulder, mumbles a “get home safe”, before pulling a pack of smokes out his pocket and lighting one up. Steve turns, shoves his shaking hands in his pockets, and walks to his car.

Getting in his car is a blur of unconscious actions. He’s driving down a barely lit backroad when he registers that his eyes are stinging, and something warm and wet is dripping down his cheeks. He pulls over on the side of the road, shifting his car into park, and he sits there. He reaches up with a shaky hand and wipes his cheek, his hand coming back wet and shining in the faint glow of the moon. The sight breaks him, and an ugly sob rips its way out his throat. He chokes on an inhale as tears fight their way out, and he hugs his arms around himself as a sad semblance of comfort. His forehead finds purchase on the steering wheel, and his tears stain the leather before dripping on his lap.

He cries because he knows he’s the problem, that he’s the one fucking up. He cries because everyone thinks so, everyone knows. The kids know. Eddie knows. Joyce knows, but she’s just too kind to say it to his face. Hell, even Hopper knows. He cries because he doesn’t know what he did wrong. He cries because he doesn’t think anyone really wants him to fix it.

It’s the second time on a drive home from the Byers-Hopper house that he has to pull over and cry.

He struggles to inhale a deep breath and sits up, harshly wiping his tears away with his hand, uncaring that it rubs his skin raw and red. Sniffling, he puts his car in drive and goes home. Toeing his shoes off at the door is the only thing he thinks to do before he stumbles his way upstairs and collapses on his bed, snuggling into the thin comforter and falling into a fitful sleep.

After a slow shift at Family Video the next day, Steve returns to the darkness of his home with a plan. He can still be useful. They may not have to know, but he can still do something to help. To try and save them before they need to be saved. He can be a preventative measure for them, can stop them from getting hurt before they even know they’re in danger.

He shrugs off his work vest, throwing it on his desk chair as he searches his closet for an old sweatshirt. He finds one, the front adorned with white block letters that read ‘Tigers Swim Team’ and tugs it on. His nail bat finds purchase in his hand as he tucks a flashlight in his back pocket. The walkie Dustin gave him is hooked in his belt loop, just in case. He leaves all the lights on in the house and shuts the door, skirting around his house to begin his walk in the woods.

After four bouts with the Upside Down, he doubts that they’re in the clear, that it’s finally over. He thought it was the first time, then the second, and by the third he was skeptical. Now, though, he doesn’t know what to think. He wouldn’t be surprised if there was a round five, or six, or seven. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if it never stopped. But each and every time, they were unprepared. They were surprised, and it nearly cost them every time. But if Steve could prevent that surprise, give them all a heads up before it becomes a big problem, then maybe— just maybe— it’ll come in handy. He’ll come in handy. He’ll be useful again.

So, he walks the woods of Hawkins. His feet crunch the dead leaves piled underneath trees as he trudges through the woods. The flashlight shines long shadows on the ground in front of him, lighting up the pale gray bark of trees and making the eyes of rodents and raccoons shine amber and red.

A rustle sounds a few feet away and he jumps at the noise. He pauses and stands still, listening for the shrill chittering of demodogs or the heavy, thudding footsteps of a demogorgon. He waits, and his flashlight reveals a small fox walking out from behind a tree. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and continues walking.

His feet carry him to Lover’s Lake, the water lapping lazily at the shore with the warm summer breeze. Out here, the lights from town are distant, making the stars shine brightly and reflect in the water. Steve stands there, watches as the artificial light of his flashlight reveals the small ripples on the surface of the water, and waits.

He waits for a lumbering figure to emerge out of the murky depths, to claw its way onto the shore and stalk off into the woods. He waits for chirps muffled by water and splashing to sound in his ears as four-legged creatures swim to the beaches. He waits for the screeches of demonic bats to echo off the trees around him as they fly out of the water and take to the sky. He waits, but it never comes. The lake stays silent.

So he walks.

He follows the road leading to the lake out, letting it take him to the highway that leads out of town. His feet stop as they come across a crack in the road, the crack he took in the other world to get Eddie home safely. The crack that is closed over with black tar, leaving a dark line on the ashen gray asphalt. He remembers clawing his way out of that crack, Eddie’s lifeless body over his shoulders as he slowly bled out.

Nancy had driven her station wagon over, opening the back so he could lay Eddie down as they rode to the hospital. She had asked Steve to drive so she could patch him up, but he refused. He couldn’t leave Eddie, not when he finally got him out. Not when he was barely hanging on. So she threw the first aid kit she had stashed in her car at him and drove to the hospital. Steve had done his best to stop the bleeding, the stark white cloth immediately turning red when he pressed it to Eddie’s skin. They almost lost him. But they didn’t. He’s alive.

Eddie. Eddie.

His head swivels to the forest next to him, the one that leads straight to the trailer park, and he runs. He jumps over fallen trees, feet thudding against the dry earth and leaves as his breath picks up. Orange street lights shine through branches as he draws nearer, and he only slows his pace when he breaks out from the line of trees. His feet swiftly take him to the sight of Eddie’s old trailer, the vacant lot standing out against the fullness of the park. The wooden front steps are still there, partially broken and shifted. The grass has yet to grow in fully, bare spots of dirt showing through the green. His shoes crunch on the gravel as he takes a step closer, inspecting the ground and poking at it with his bat as if it would move. As if the gate would open up just by him being here.

It doesn’t. Steve steps back.

He turns to leave the park, eyes wandering and finding a familiar cream-colored van parked at a trailer a few rows away. Eddie and his Uncle were granted a new trailer for their trouble, really the bare minimum they deserve after all the shit they went through, but they took it in stride. Eddie and Wayne spent the first few weeks after spring break making it into their new home once Eddie was released from the hospital, and Steve had done his best to help them out. But he knew they needed time alone, time to heal, so he let them be. He hasn’t been back there since then.

He kicks a stray piece of gravel, watching as it tumbles a few feet away and disappears into the grass, as he makes his way out of Forest Hills. Houses blur by as he walks the residential streets, only stopping when his own comes into view. Steve sighs, and walks up the concrete driveway, through the large wooden doors, and into the silence of his house. He doesn’t bother taking off his shoes, reveling a little in the dirty footprints he leaves behind on his mothers’ ornate runner that covers the length of the hallway. The analog on the stove tells him it's a little past three in the morning, and he sighs. Grabbing a glass from the cabinet, he fills it up with water before shuffling out of the kitchen. He flops on the couch, sips his water, and waits.

He waits for the sun to peek over the trees in the backyard, casting long shadows on the curtains that cover the windows and glass doors. He waits for the warm rays to shine through the large window in the living room, the one that faces the road, and light up the rug that rests under the coffee table in soft hues of yellow. He sits his empty glass on the table. He waits. And he gets up.

He goes upstairs, changes his shirt, and grabs his vest. Steve slips the walkie off his belt loop and places it on his desk, the flashlight landing right beside it. He props the bat next to his chair, and Steve looks at it, looks at the bent nails sticking haphazardly out of the wood and how it splintered in places from too much force. How some of the nails are covered in dried, blackened goop and dirt. How it's sharp and dangerous, a weapon. How it’s chosen to protect.

At this moment, Steve feels like the bat. The rough wood is his exterior, the splinters through it are the cracks. The holes in his facade. The places where people got too close, where people hurt him. The nails are what makes him strong. They’re the kids, Joyce and Hop, Eddie and Robin. They’re his family. They mold him into a weapon meant to protect, to keep them safe.

But just like Steve, the bat isn’t needed until it’s necessary. Until the world is ending. But until that time comes, the bat is left out of sight. It’s hidden away, moved from place to place just in case, but never used. Never wanted.

Steve walks out the door.

His shift at Family Video passes by like every other day, slow and full of know-it-all customers that never seem to understand that he can’t magically summon movies out of his ass whenever they ask. Robin comes in around lunchtime, and they spend the rest of their joint shift making fun of the ridiculous movie covers that adorn various romcoms. He goes home alone, sheds his vest, and once again walks the town of Hawkins.

He does it again the next night. And the night after that. And the night after that. Until it’s been a week and Steve hasn’t slept for more than a couple hours a night. He doesn’t mind, just means there’s less nightmares to wake him up before sunrise.

Less nights where chittering and the thuds of heavy footsteps strike fear down to his core. Less nights where the chill of fog and night air pierce his skin, warring with his senses against the hot breath hitting the back of his neck from deadly flower-shaped mouths. Less nights where the harsh scraping of monstrous nails against rusted metal and the echoey bangs of heavy, meaty bodies against solid bus walls fill his ears. Less nights where he can feel the thick, choking air of the tunnels, can feel the wispy particles filling his lungs and coating the inside of his mouth.

Less nights filled with muffled Russian echoing in his ears, the harsh texture of rope around his wrists, arms, and chest. Less nights where the sickening crunch of fists against bone and the metallic taste of blood in his mouth linger for hours after he’s awoken, shallowly breathing and pleading to be let go. Less nights where he can feel the blood in his teeth, coating his tongue and dripping down the back of his throat, and he has to run to the bathroom to puke the phantom feeling away.

Less nights he wakes up alone, empty house hollow around him. Less nights he cries to himself in the silence of his room, wishing, hoping, yearning for something. For something to happen, to change. For something to get better. For him to get better.

On the eighth night, he finds his feet have taken him to the edge of Hawkins. The brown road sign reads ‘Leaving Hawkins! Come Again Soon!’, and it stares at him from a few feet away. He looks past the sign at the stretch of road that disappears around a curve, trees following the line of asphalt and distant street lights lighting up their leaves with an orange glow.

He thinks about what it would be like to leave Hawkins, to pack up his clothes in his car and leave town. To follow the road and go around that curve, to not worry about ever coming back. No one needs him here, not anymore, so what’s holding him back?

Maybe this will fix him.

Robin might miss him for a bit, probably curse him and his whole family when she figures it out, but she’ll move on. She’ll find someone better. Hell, she’ll probably go to Eddie too. They already have some sort of secret friendship thing going on between them anyway. Really, he wouldn’t blame her.

Eddie probably wouldn’t care. Shit, he might even throw a party celebrating the fact that he’s gone. Steve snorts at the thought, closing his eyes and taking a breath.

Would it really be so bad if he just disappeared?

But then there’s the kids, left behind with no one to protect them. Sure, Robin and Eddie and Nancy are here, but Nancy is off to Emerson in the fall, Robin surely bound to follow in similar footsteps, and Eddie has made it well-known that he’s getting the hell out of here. If everyone is gone, who will be here to protect them when it comes back?

He rakes a hand harshly through his hair, pulling a bit at the ends and hating how greasy it feels on his fingertips. He can’t think like that, he’ll just worry himself into a panic and that’s the last thing he needs right now; a panic attack on the side of the road. He turns around, walking back towards town as the sky fades into light. He gets home right when sunlight begins burning the tops of the trees and collapses on the couch, sleeping until his noon shift.

He’s exhausted when he gets home, having to close up Family Video after a ten hour shift by himself, but he knows he can’t sleep. Not now. So he does what he usually does now when he gets home and grabs his essentials for his rounds, something that’s become routine for him.

He shrugs off his work clothes, replacing it with what has become his patrol outfit; the old swim team sweatshirt and a faded, ripped pair of light blue jeans. The sweatshirt is filled with holes, the baggy sleeves having caught on briars and branches alike, that allow the white of his shirt to show through. The jeans share a similar fate, the knees scraped up and the denim fraying from the unhemmed edges.

His white Nikes are stained a gray-ish brown from the nightly treks through the woods, small bits of leaves and debris sticking to the laces and in the grooves of the tread. The flashlight finds its place in his back left pocket, an extra pair of batteries landing in his front pocket after an incident a few nights ago where his flashlight died on him out in the middle of nowhere— he was forced to stumble through the woods until the sun began to rise and he was able to find his way back home. He didn’t sleep that night.

The nail bat is crusted with dried bits of mud sticking to the slowly rusting metal, shredded bits of leaves and undergrowth tangled in a green and brown mass. Clumps of dirt litter the floor under the bat, and likely mark a line in the hallway from his room down to the front door. Steve hopes it's still there if his parents come home.

It’s dark outside, only the street light at the end of the driveway illuminates the concrete and stepping stone pathway to the front door. Steve steps out on the front stoop, taking a deep breath of cool summer night air, and starts walking.

He walks out onto the street, uncaring at this point if anyone sees him or not. What does he have to lose? Hopper would probably tell him he’s stupid— something he’s well aware of at this point— and tell him to go inside. Or maybe he would drive him home, take the bat, and leave.

A small, traitorous part of Steve wants Hop to find him. Wants him to ask what the hell he’s doing walking around at night alone in the dark. Wants him to coax him in his old beat up truck and take him back to the Byers’ house. Wants some of Joyce’s hot chocolate as he sits on the couch and explains what he’s been doing, what’s been going on. Ask, desperately, why everyone hates him. Wants them to tell him he’s wrong, that no one hates him. That it’s just a misunderstanding.

But it doesn’t happen. All of that is a lie.

It’s a lie Steve has secretly been telling himself under the cover of darkness alone in his bed, lying awake and exhausted but unable to sleep. It’s a lie he tells himself when he sees any of the kids so he can act normal, act okay. It’s a lie he tells himself when Eddie grins at him, wide and gleaming, eyes sparkling with the afternoon sun beaming in from the storefront windows.

It’s those grins, those looks Eddie gives him sometimes that almost convinces him the lie is fake. Like Eddie is sharing an inside joke with him, only Steve doesn’t know what it is. Eddie doesn’t come around often but when he does… god, it’s like he’s the only one in the room.

Eddie looks at him with his whole body, always focusing on him so wholly and touching in some way. A hand on his bicep, an arm slung around his shoulder, even his arms wrapped around his waist one time. He was friendly, they were friends, until he wasn’t. Until Steve did something stupid that he still can’t figure out and Eddie is avoiding him.

The crunch of gravel under his sole brings him back into his head a little. He looks up, finding the pale orange glow of a lamp through a trailer window, and curses. His feet have brought him to where his mind always seems to go these days: Eddie.

He stands outside of the trailer, watching the way the little bits of weeds around the base shift and sway in the wind. The sky is filled with patches of clouds, light gray ripples standing out against the black sky from the glow of the moon. Steve isn’t completely sure how he got here, only that he started walking and didn’t really… stop.

Wayne’s truck is gone, leaving only Eddie’s cream-colored van among the gravel and grass. Which means Eddie is home and, judging by the light in the window, awake. Steve has a fleeting thought that he should turn around, walk back home, and try to forget he ever came here. Try to forget that he didn’t mean to, that his head and his heart are traitorous beings that have conspired against him to bring his body to the one place— one person— where he isn’t welcome. He tries to move, to will his legs and his feet to catch up with his brain and the urge to run. But they don’t. They stay frozen to the ground, rooted in place as if they belong here. As if he belongs here.

A voice cuts his thoughts off, one that he could pick out in a crowd full of people. His eyes snap to the front door of the trailer, now open and spilling warm light onto the wooden steps that lead down to the gravel drive. A figure grows near, tall and lanky and Steve feels like he’s trapped. His thoughts get louder, yelling and screaming at him to run run ruN RUN RUN-

Hands on his shoulders. Eddie’s face in front of him.

Eddie looks panicked, his dark eyes wide and dancing around as if searching Steve's face for… something. He must not find it, because the two little lines between his brows appear and his mouth starts moving. It’s all muffled, like he’s trying to talk through glass. Steve blinks.

“-ington? Steve,” Eddie’s pleading voice finds his ears as he shakes his shoulders, the fog in his head dissipating as the strained way his name falls from his lips. Steve hums. He blinks again.

“Oh,” he breathes out, voice barely louder than a whisper. Eddie is here. He’s in front of him. He can see him. He’s here and he can see and Steve shouldn’t be here he needs to go-

“Stevie, are you okay?” The fear in Eddie’s voice cuts off his train of thought— something that seems to happen a lot nowadays— and Steve feels every sensation return to his body. The heavy hands on his shoulders, soft and warm and missing their signature rings. The distant chill of the night air on his exposed bits of skin seeping away at the small amount of space between them. The faint puff of air on his face from the man before him. The fact that all of those things are from Eddie.

Steve clears his throat, swallows. Tries to focus his eyes on Eddie’s face.

“I’m fine, Eddie. I um.. sorry,” he trails off. He tries to smile, at least give something to reassure him, to keep him from asking questions. Steve doesn’t think he could answer them.

To his surprise, Eddie lets out a breath of relief, the fear dissipating from his eyes as they clench shut and his head drops. His shoulders move with his lungs as he takes a breath before looking back up at him.

“Jesus H. Christ, you scared the shit outta me, Steve. Thought…” he trails off. His voice wavers. “Thought you were gone. Like… like her.”

Oh. Chrissy. Fuck.

“Shit- sorry, Eds, I didn’t even realize- fuck, I’m so sorry,” Steve pleads. He takes in his surroundings, realizes he’s been standing out here, alone, for who knows how long. He needs to leave. “I-I should go.”

Eddie’s brows furrow, and he tilts his head. “You don’t have to leave, Stevie, it’s fi-“ he cuts himself off.

Steve looks up at that, unsure of when he stopped looking at Eddie, and takes in his pinched expression. The one that’s trained to the ground. The one that’s trained towards-

“What the fuck is this?”

Shit.

“I-it’s not what it looks like, I swear!” He begs, voice sounding unfamiliar even to his own ears. It’s raspy and breaks after a few words. When was the last time he really spoke to anyone today?

“I don’t wanna hurt you, Eds, I really don’t- please, believe me,” he pleads. “It’s just for protection! I don’t-“

“Why are you covered in mud, Steve?” Eddie cuts him off, voice strange and cautious and his hands tighten their grip on his shoulders. Steve knows he doesn’t look the best, knows that his clothes are dirty, but he looks down at himself anyway. His eyes focus on a leaf stuck to his shoelace. He shrugs.

Eddie moves in front of him, a quick thing that Steve suspects is him shaking his head. He mumbles something he can’t hear, voice only a rumble in his throat but Steve knows enough to know that people only talk under their breath when they’re mad. When he’s done something wrong.

He pulls away. Eddie’s hands drop off his shoulders.

“I-I should go. Sorry for bothering you, an-… and keeping you awake,” Steve stutters out, clearing his throat when his voice breaks. He chances a look at him, finding concern written on Eddie’s face. It softens when they make eye contact, and Eddie shakes his head.

“I wasn’t asleep, Stevie. Don’t really, uh.. sleep much, these days. I usually just wait around for Wayne to get home to catch a couple hours. Doesn’t feel safe here by myself, you know?” Eddie confesses, mouth turned upwards in a small, sardonic smile. Steve nods. He does know, he’s never felt safe in his home. With or without people. He’s been going through it for years, long before the events of ‘83. He doesn’t say any of that though, doesn’t think he has the right to.

Eddie steps towards him, closing the bit of distance Steve made between the two, and rests his hand on the arm holding the bat.

“Come inside, Steve,” Eddie requests, voice low and soft. Eddie’s smiling at him. It’s that soft, small, Eddie smile. One that Steve has only seen a handful of times. It’s asking him to say yes, and Steve… he’s weak. So, so weak.

“Okay.”

Eddie’s smile grows.

His hand wraps further around his arm, tugging him towards the open trailer door and Steve feels betrayed that now is when his feet decide to move. He follows Eddie, watching the way he’s glancing at him the entire time. Eddie pauses at the doorway.

“Steve,” he whispers, and Steve looks at him. His hand travels down his arm, causing goosebumps in its wake despite the layer of fabric between their skin. It pauses over the hand still gripping the bat, thumb brushing along his knuckles. “Let it go.”

Steve looks at him, searches those dark brown eyes for fear or hate or anger but finds none. He only finds care. Concern. Love.

It’s terrifying.

He loosens his grip and Eddie takes it from him, the comforting weight of the bat replaced with the warmth of Eddie’s hand. He props it just inside the door to the trailer and leads him over the threshold by the grip on his hand. He’s led over to the couch where a hand on his back urges him to sit down. Steve does, and instantly sinks into the well-worn cushions.

“I’ll be right back, okay? Just gonna get you some water,” Eddie informs him, squeezing his hand briefly before releasing his grip and turning the corner to venture into the kitchen. Steve watches him go, the way the baggy and worn band shirt hangs off his frame. The way his sweatpants are bunched up at the ankle as if they’re too big for him. The way his hair is pulled into a messy bun at the back of his head that swings a little when he walks away. Even now, he’s beautiful.

Shit. He’s so gone for this man.

Eddie returns with a glass of water and flops down on the couch beside him, pressing the cool surface of the cup into his palm. He takes it with a shaky hand, his other joining it to help stabilize the glass. It doesn’t work.

He takes a small sip of water, the liquid feeling like heaven against his dry throat. They sit in silence until Steve finishes half the glass. Then, Eddie speaks.

“Why were you outside at two in the morning, Stevie?” His voice is gentle, and it makes Steve want to cry. He swallows.

“I- I don’t know,” he deflects, lies. Anything to not talk about it.

The harsh sound of a mock game show buzzer startles him, and he turns to find Eddie with his hands cupped around his mouth. Steve grins and lets his head drop, and Eddie nudges his shoulder. He takes a deep breath, focusing on the surface of the water in his hands.

“I have to keep them safe, Eddie,” he confesses. Eddie stays silent, hand gently rubbing his forearm. “It’s what I need to do. What I have to do.”

Silence stretches between them, then, “who, Steve? Who do you have to keep safe?”

‘You,’ he wants to say. ‘You almost died. It’s never been that close before, not in the four years this shit has been going on. You and Max almost died, and I wasn’t there to protect you. I wasn’t with you and Dustin to keep you both safe, to help fight off the bats and urge you through the gate. I wasn’t with Max and Lucas and Erica, wasn’t there to fight off Carver and save Max just a little bit earlier. I wasn’t there, but I should have been. Carver should have beat me to pieces, not Lucas. It should have been me the bats got to, not you. It should have been me, it should have been me, it should have been me.’

Hands fall over his as Eddie takes the glass from him. He didn’t realize his hands were shaking that bad in his revere, causing the water to spill over the sides and onto the brown carpet below them. The glass thunks on the coffee table before Eddie rests his hands over Steve’s, stills their shaking.

“Hey, talk to me, Stevie,” he practically begs. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Steve looks at him, sees the worry in his eyes, and wets his lips with his tongue. Doesn’t miss the way Eddie’s eyes flicker down at the movement. He clenches his fists.

“Please don’t tell Robin,” he pleads. If she found out about this, if she knew, he wouldn’t be allowed outside alone ever again. She would worry about him, keep him under lock and key to make sure he wouldn’t do anything stupid. She would stay with him during the night, insert herself firmly by his side until she was sure he was okay. She would make him sleep in his own bed, trapped between his own walls. Trapped in his own house. He can’t stand that place, can’t handle the echoey walls and empty rooms. Can’t stand not being able to do anything for anyone. Can’t stand to be useless.

He’s just wasting time right now. He shouldn’t be here, talking to Eddie, when he could be checking the gates. He should be out there trying to save people, not himself. He should be trying to save his family. He could already be too late. It might have already come back while he was distracted and they could all be gone. It could have been waiting until he was occupied, waiting for an opening to strike. They could be in danger right now. They could be dead.

“Alright, I can do that. I won’t tell her but… Steve, why-“ Steve cuts him off by standing up on shaky legs, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Steve?”

“I need to go, Eddie, I need to- they could- I need to go,” the words tumble out of his mouth, words he isn’t quite sure even make sense but he doesn’t care. He just needs to get out.

Steve walks over to the door, eyes locking on the bat propped there, before he hears Eddie stand up behind him. He turns to find Eddie holding his hands out in front of him like he’s trying to placate a wild animal and, at this moment, he kinda feels like one. His heart is beating too fast and he can feel his breathing quicken. His throat closes up as panic claws its way upwards and clouds his vision, muffling his hearing. Eddie’s mouth moves but Steve can’t hear it through the cotton in his ears. He backs towards the door, hating the fear in Eddie’s eyes as he does so.

His back hits the wall next to the door and he turns, hand finding the rough wood of the bat almost instantly, before he runs out the door. The small “sorry” he lets out is an afterthought, thrown over his shoulder right before the trailer door slams shut behind him and his feet crunch on gravel as he runs towards town.

His blind panic takes him to Dustin’s house first, finding all the lights turned off save for the faint glow of the hall night light through sheer curtains. He stays there for a minute or two, waiting for the sign of flickering lights. Nothing comes.

A couple streets over, he stops in front of Lucas’s house, finds the same thing. Dark. He stands there and waits. No flickering. He runs.

The Wheelers. Dark. He waits, no flickering. He runs.

The Byers-Hoppers. Dark. Waits. No flickering. Runs.

Max. Dark. Waits. Dark. Runs.

Robin. Dark. Waits. Dark. Runs.

His house. Light.

They’re safe. He collapses.

He sits heavily on the front stoop, bat falling to the ground and knocking against the concrete with a thud. His knees come up to his chest and his arms wrap tightly around them as he rasps for breath, the air coming in short, quick bursts. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of his calves, hard enough to leave bruises. His forehead rests heavily on his knees and his eyes sting, welling with tears as the fear slowly fades away.

He sits outside, struggling for breath until the sun begins to rise, and waits. When the sun finds its way over the trees, he makes his way inside to get ready for his opening shift.

The bat finds a new home in his trunk.

Taglist: @tea-beloved @starry-eyedlune @hyperfixationgoddess @zerokrox-blog @nicovania @invisibleflame812 @chaoticvictorianspirit @justforthedead89 @dacremontgomeryay @vhelt @adhdsummer @nerd-and-nervous @i-have-three-feelings @mimicori @remuslupinisthevoiceofgod @solliesolesito @romanticdestruction @vanillatwist @bowl-o-queerios @grimmfitzz

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[eccentricallygothic]

hear me out ok the 5 cevens characters working together to fluster bunny. like randomly one morning she wakes up and she's getting it from all sides. poor bunny is teased to tears before ransom or jensen finally take some sympathy on her and let her cockwarm them while hiding her embarrassed teary eyes <3

Oh God I am melting becauseee-

Warning(s): Somnophilia (consensual), dacryphilia, gangbang, corruption kink, p-in-v, blow job, anal, boob fucking, handjob, degredation, cockwarming.

Bunny is confused at first, (the innocence of which drives Lloyd mad), then turned on but then soon overwhelmed due to how much of a sensitive Princess she is. 

Daddies had discussed this with her a couple weeks ago with a mutual agreement that whenever it happens it will be a surprise because Bunny always has her safe word anyways.

"Hnnng~" her plugged mouth vibrates against Lloyd's cock as Ari stretches her unsuspecting and very tight pussy with a capital S. 

She's basically hanging between the huge men and being held up solely by their cocks like one of those hentais. 

Andy is grunting behind her as he wraps her hair around his fist and pushes his fat dick between her plump ass cheeks and up her much lubed pucker. 

Jensen is still praising her for being so brave as he guides her smaller hand around his girth, free hand stroking her hair which was the only consolation with all the violation going on. 

"Dirty little horn Bunny" Ari snickers from his spot as he feels her move around him. "Half asleep but still moaning and clenching around our cocks while we fuck her dumb."

Lloyd hisses as he enters her throat from his spot besides her since Ransom is thrusting between her tits.

The dark haired man grunts and curses at the sight before him as he rocks his hips against her chest, holding both of Bunny's tits together while she hangs propped up by all their cocks, panting through her nostrils. 

She's spread out and filled to all her brims like a lifeless fuck doll, lazy eyes scanning her surroundings through her still droopy eyelids. 

It goes on for hours. 

Some daddies even change positions. 

Touching, teaching, fucking, degradation and praise which is just Jensen building her up for the other daddies (and him) to crush back down. 

Bunny is a whining and crying gurgling mess by the end of it, covered in cum and tears as she trembles on her hands and knees, their juices leaking out of all her holes.

"Aw, would you look at this leaking little breeding bunny" Jensen chuckles darkly as the other Daddies enjoy the sight.

Bunny ducks her head as this rare side of Jensen makes her feel even more vulnerable, exposed and small, if it were even possible after all that.

Ransom chuckles to himself when her bottom lip wobbles and eyes tear up. 

"But she's a good breeding bunny, isn't that right?" His fingers slip through her sweaty hair as he comfortingly caresses it. 

Bunny peaks up at him only through her lashes and murmurs out a weak and broken 'yes Daddy'.

"Look at how small and pathetic she is. Nothing but a fine set of tight little holes" Lloyd's spank is cruel as it nearly echoes in the room. 

Bunny whimpers into Ransom's hand again and that is when he finally takes mercy at the fucked out sight. 

"Little Bunny can't take any more, huh? Needs Daddy to protect and take care of her?" She vigorously nods, feeling the gazes of the other Daddies almost cut her skin.

Ransom's chest swells with pride and authority when he sits on her Princess Bunny bed and pats his thigh. 

The girl obediently crawls into it before nuzzling her red face in his broad chest. 

The male positions his cock against her much well lubricated entrance before gripping her hips and lowering her down on it. 

Bunny moans and whimpers, tightening her arms around him as she clenches in defense before eventually adjusting to Ransom's thick and veiny girth, feeling him just under organs. 

It's not long before she's snoring against his chest, exhausted from the erotic episode.

Ransom continues to rock them back and forth slowly, caressing her back as he presses a reassuring kiss to the top of her head every now and then. 

The other Daddies leave but not before Ari makes the remark that she's just like a fuck doll, being turned on to serve her purpose and then going right back to idle mode when her batteries run out. 

Andy, Lloyd and Jensen snicker as they follow the giant out of the room.

Maybe they will wake her the same way later. 

With their little slut Bunny, the possibilities are endless.

[writeroutoftime]

flufftober day 2 - family, friends, loved ones

pairing: jamie tartt x reader

words: 0.7k

oOoOo

“Sometimes it feels like we’re never going to get married.” you lamented to Keeley and Rebecca as the three of you sat around Rebecca’s flat, sipping on wine with a trashy movie on in the background. 

Being engaged to one of the biggest, hotshot players in the league was not all it was cracked up to be. Just over a year ago, Jamie had gotten down on one knee and popped the question, but between your schedule and his, you were in a perpetual state of engagement. 

“Babes, it’ll all work out, I know it. But as long as the two of you know the commitment you want to make to each other, that’s all that matters, right?” Keeley reassured you, rubbing a soothing touch up and down your arm. 

“I suppose you're right.” 

“Of course she is.” Rebecca interjected. “My wedding to Rupert happened weeks after he proposed, cost a fortune, was a whole fucking affair turned out to be a pile of shit.” 

Though you and Keely tried to keep a straight face, you couldn’t help but burst out laughing at Rebecca’s mini rant, her eventually joining in. It made you feel a bit better, and the thought slowly began to dissipate from your mind. 

It wasn’t until two weeks later that you thought anything about your conversation with Keeley and Rebecca. You and Jamie had been called into the Dog Track, but neither of you were sure as to why. It was an off week for a match and a rare, free Saturday for the team to enjoy. 

The two of you walked into the building, hand in hand, only to be met with Keeley and Roy, with a huge grin and a half scowl on their faces respectively. 

“Finally!” Keeley cried, reaching to grab your hand and pull you away. Before Jamie could even protest, the blonde threw a quick “We’ll see you two later.” over her shoulder. 

All your questions went unanswered until Keeley pulled you into Rebecca’s office, where the room in question stood waiting with three glasses of champagne and a mischievous smile on her face. You glanced around the room, eyes narrowed in confusion until you spotted a dress hanging a ways away - a white dress. 

“Umm, guys, what’s going on?” 

The two women looked at each other before looking back at you. “Do you trust us?” Rebecca asked. 

oOoOo

Forty minutes later and you found yourself outside on the pitch, Jamie being led out by Roy and some of the other players. The two of you met in the middle and found Ted waiting there in a nice suit, and a cheesy grin on his face. 

“Hey, y’all,” Ted started. “I know this isn’t necessarily the big day you probably dreamed of, but we thought we’d throw you this little party. Now Beard here has gotten himself ordained and we’re all ready to perform a little ceremony so that one of our favorite couples can call themselves hitched.” he smiled, before rushing to add on “‘Course, you don’t have to go through with this. We don’t mean to overstep, just wanted to do something nice for you two.” 

You were stunned and overwhelmed by the love you felt from this team, and it was hard to stop the tears that pricked at the corner of your eyes. A huge grin overtook your features and you turned to look at your fiance, giving him a questioning look. Jamie looked towards his team, back at you, and smiled with the slightest nod. Both of you knew what your answer was. 

“We’d love to.” Jamie said and was quickly drowned out by the cheers of everyone waiting to hear your decision. 

You couldn’t help but laugh as Jamie was rushed down to the makeshift aisle with Beard while Keeley and Rebecca quickly walked down as your ‘bridesmaids,’ and Ted stood back with you offering you his arm. 

“Hope you don’t mind, but can I walk you down?” he asked. 

By that point, tears of joy and love were streaming down your face as you could only nod in response. It might not have been the ceremony you were expecting, but all that mattered was that you were surrounded by the people who loved you and you, finally, got to join your life with the man you loved. 

[sweetdispatch]

Completed person - N. Hischier

When Two Sports Collide | previous chapter

timeline: June 2024 - September 2024

summary: Lisa and Nico were spending every single moment together until she had to left for the Olympic Games but even after this competition, they were glued to each other

warning: mentions of sex

words: 1.3k

note: are we ready to say goodbye to Lisa and Nico?

---

The next week after Gyor’ win was tiring. Lisa and her teammates had to do plenty of media and different gatherings with fans and sponsors. Nico was by her side all the time patiently waiting to go on vacation with her. Two of them decided to visit Italy during the holidays before Lisa had to go back to Norway and train with the team to prepare for the Olympic Games. The couple spent two weeks in Italy travelling, laughing, eating lots of pasta and drinking wine.

lisa.pedersen

liked by nicohischier and 5633 others

lisa.pedersen Italy, you have pretty views but I have the prettiest view in front of me and it's Swiss one❤️

nicohischier I have even prettier Norwegian view next to me❤️

charlotteolsen i miss you two!!!!!

24 June 2024

To Lisa’ surprise, Nico decided to go to Norway with her. He knew about her busy schedule but wanted to have her by his side all the time he could. As much as she loved the idea, she was scared he might keep her distracted. 

“I promise, I won’t be bothering you. As soon as you leave for the camp, I’ll return to Switzerland. For now, you’re only gonna be in the gym and running. I want to spend the time we have before each of us will go back to their clubs” Nico tried to explain to her.

“I’m grateful for that offer but I’m not sure. You know how much this means for me to win the gold and I need to be as much prepared as I can” Lisa said. 

“You can’t live only in the gym babe. You need a rest and I’ll be more than happy to help you with that”

“Fine but if I feel overwhelmed by your presence, you’re going back home” Lisa laughed.

Next few weeks Lisa and Nico spent most of the time training. She was getting in shape before the Olympic Games while Nico was preparing for his season. As he said, he was helping Lisa relax. She started having memories from the Olympic Games in Tokyo where they lost in the semi final but he was giving her pep talks every time he saw that she’s into her head, overthinking it again. 

“Lisa, you need to let it go. This was three years ago. You’re great athlete and that was your one mistake”

“But it was a huge mistake!” Lisa argued back.

“That doesn’t change anything. Look, you were training so hard in the last years that I’m confident that you’re gonna bring the gold home. Don’t let this go into your head because you’ll be spiralling instead of focusing on what’s important now” Nico hugged her.

“It’s not that simple, I don’t want to fail again and disappoint the whole country” Lisa sobbed. Being so vulnerable was bizarre for her but she trusted Nico and wasn’t afraid of showing it.

“And you won’t. You’re gonna smash out there. I know it” He kissed her lips.

First game of the Olympic Games hasn't gone like Lisa was hoping for. They lost to Sweden and she started to have doubts if they are capable of winning the medal. The rest of the games went smoothly in the group phase and they got first place. In the quarterfinal, Norway won against Brazil and easily went to the semifinal. There, they won against Denmark and it was time for the final.

Lisa and the rest of her team were excited. So close to getting the gold but still so far. In the final, they were facing France. Last year, when Norway played against them, they lost in the final of the World Championship. All the girls were extra motivated to win this game. First half was tight but in the second one, Norway took a huge lead and didn’t let it go. The result showed 29:21 and Lisa could call herself an Olympic champion. Not only she won but also was named to the All Star Team.

Lottie, Nico, Nina and Luca had been here watching the final. They screamed with joy seeing Lisa fulfilling her dreams. When Nico saw that his girlfriend had been named to the All Star Team of the tournament, he cried. He knew how tough it was for her to get rid of the thoughts from Tokyo and watching her accepting the award with gold around her neck was incredible. After the final, Lisa went to see them knowing that they came to see her. 

“My friend is Olympic champion” Lottie screamed and hugged Lisa tightly. Nina and Luca also congratulated her. Then Nico came to her and lifted her up while hugging. She laughed at this act.

“I’m so proud of you” He placed a kiss on her lips. 

“Wouldn’t do it without your pep talks” She grabbed his face and kissed him again. He put her back on the ground when Lottie spoke.

“You know that you’re the youngest player to ever achieve that?” 

“I’m not. Silje is a year younger than me” Lisa said, confused.

“I don’t mean winning the Olympic Games. I mean winning everything” Lisa looked at her still not knowing what she meant. “Girl, you won the European championship, World Championship, Champions League, Norwegian League and now the Olympic Games. You are the youngest player to win all the important competitions!” Lottie said excitedly.

“I am?” Lisa was shocked. “Oh my Gosh, I am!” 

“We have to celebrate this” Nina announced. 

“Tomorrow, I promise. We still have the closing ceremony and I can’t go there drunk” Lisa joked and everyone laughed. Nico felt nothing more than pride, especially after hearing what Lottie said.

lisa.pedersen

liked by nicohischier and 5749 others

lisa.pedersen We are Olympic champions! We did it girls❤️

charlotteolsen OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!

nicohischier I'm so proud of you❤️

11 August 2024

As Lisa said, the next day they went to celebrate her achievements in one of the Paris clubs. She and Nico were touchy with each other and ended up hooking up in the bathroom. This was messy and drunk sex but this is exactly what they needed after a month of not seeing each other. Lisa woke up with a huge hangover and regretted this party the minute she was on the plane to Norway. 

Lottie, Nico and his siblings returned to Switzerland and waited for Lisa’ arrival. Norway won and she had to do all the media appearances but the most important thing was meeting the king of Norway who congratulated all the Olympic athletes. Gyor gave Lisa two more free weeks and she decided to spend them with Nico back in Switzerland before he left Europe.

Lisa felt bad for ditching on Lottie and being with Nico and his family but she understood it. She knows that he’s leaving soon and she can go and visit Lisa anytime in Hungary. Nico’s parents adored Lisa and were thankful that his son finally found a normal girl. The way he was looking at her, with such a love was all they wanted to see in his eyes. He fell for her really badly. 

September started and it was time to leave. Lisa had to return to Hungary because her summer was over. She didn't want to leave Nico’ side. Being with him felt too good to be true. He drove her to the airport and they sat in the car, looking at the building. 

“I don’t want to leave you” Lisa sighed.

“I know, I don’t want to leave you too but we have to. We know the prize of our relationship” Nico grabbed her hand. “When you get back to trainings, the time will fly fast and in no time we’ll see each other again” 

“How do you always know what to say?” She laughed.

“Talent” He pulled her into a kiss. “As much as I would love to stay here, we have to go” 

Lisa cried when she and Nico shared a final hug. Now, they have to wait another 8 months before they’ll meet again. 

…Or maybe not? 

---

final chapter

[justagoodlittlegirl]

During the summer I used to post a lot about adventures of me using my toys. Going a day with a plug inside. Edging for the first time. I thought I'd bring that back today, with a story time about how I came so hard last night, I passed out.

Last night I turned my thrusting dildo on. It's basically a mini fucking machine( video below).

I just let it fuck me for hours. Forcing myself to climax over and over again. Eventually I grabbed my wand as well, turning it on the highest setting on the steadiest vibration so that it was relentless on my clit. I don't remember much after that, the pleasure was so intense I felt like I was going to black out. I kept cumming over and over again and as the orgasms got more intense they started coming closer together. This particular toy is especially amazing, because not only does it fuck me, but it vibrates too and it's super strong. It comes with a wireless remote so as it's fucking me, I can adjust the intensity and turn on and off the vibrations as needed.

The vibrations at times were too much. I would turn it on to terrorize me, being the little masochist that I am and then I would get overwhelmed and have to stop.

As the toy was fucking me, I was imagining a scenario in which I belonged to a Mommy and Daddy dom couple and they had tied me up and remote control was in their hands as they sat beside me doing mundane things. Reading a book or watching tv while I'm in between them suffering for their pleasure. The toy just torturing me endlessly, making me cum over and over again. All while they coddle me through each intense orgasm and tell me how much of a good girl I'm being for them.

The one thing I remember vividly though, is that I could feel myself about to squirt again towards the end and it was going to be a big one. The dildo was on the highest speed and it's a bit curved, so it was pressing up against my g spot and then the vibrating wand was on my swollen clit. Which I didn't realize was so sensitive from having squirted multiple times before this. I kept having to move the wand off my clit cause it was just so sensitive I couldn't take it. Then the dildo was fucking me so hard, it was forcing me to squirt the whole time and I was so out of it I didn't realize what was happening.

I only discovered this as I went to check how wet I was and realized I was making a huge mess. I could feel the climax building and then I quickly pulled the toy out and squirted all over myself again. It was such a big orgasm. I felt all the tenseness I had within my body the last couple weeks exit swiftly. This all happened while the wand was still on my clit too. I had just enough strength to turn both toys off and then I laid there. Feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over me, only to pass out shorty after that. One of the best orgasms I ever had.

If you've been here for a while, you'll know a couple months ago I used to post a lot of story times like this. They are deep down on my blog from like June. Perhaps I should reblog them.

Video of the toy and this is the lowest setting.

[panelshowsource]

masterpost update... 🥹

hi guys it's been a minute 🥹 as i mentioned, i was working on updating the masterpost this past week, moving a large bulk of content onto my panelshowsource googledrive account, because i think everything stored there will be easily accessible and safe long term :)

the masterpost is the same original link it's been since it was established over 5 years ago! always bookmark the original post, not a reblog and not this post, so you have access to the most updated version & its links!

—

i had to do some reorganising of the post because of tumblr's latest round of post restrictions:

i'm not able to provide many alternative links because i'm nearly at the link limit as it is, but i think what's provided is reliable and you can always send an ask if a link needs updating!

since i can no longer give every series its own photo header, everything is organised by bolded text and bullet points, which will look and read best on desktop opposed to mobile (mobile seems to despise indentation)

—

a few notes regarding specific titles:

i did add all of taskmaster to my drive due to overwhelming requests, but only s1–4+15 are in 1080p, so i will begin updating the 720p files to 1080p over the next couple of weeks. thanks for your patience! in the meantime, you can watch them in hd on youtube ofc! i'll also update hypothetical as i get those locked down

i...i wanna say something so honest... i really don't care about a league of their own and most of you don't seem to either. it's a huge hassle organising the episodes because — not to say this for the third time in two sentences — but most people don't care much about it and haven't made the effort to keep it archived. we haven't seen a source for a complete series 6 in, like, 8 years. i'm not going to be making an effort to log that title for the time being. sorry if that's an inconvenience, but feel free to use the resources linked in my faq for your own research!

i added all of travel man (720p) and bridget christie's the change (1080p) to the misc watch links post (link below). i'll work on finishing upstart crow and then adding the rest of as yet untitled, game face, man down, and the cleaner!

i will continue uploading as-hd-as-possible versions of cats does countdown to my youtube channel and will eventually get them all on drive, but that's a slow process; i don't spend much time on youtube because half the commenters are tossers and deleting their negativity to keep it a fun space doesn't always leave me in a good mood 😡😡😡

i know a ton of celeb juice is on youtube but i haven't gotten around to organising it into a playlist (at least), but it's on my to-do list!

—

if you want to contribute to the post, i'm currently seeking these!

ask rhod gilbert

breaking the news (mostly looking for the tv version)

the news quiz (s97–current...i might have a source but it's a slow wip...)

there's something about movies

mel giedroyc unforgivable s03

—

➭ PANEL SHOW MASTERPOST

woooooooo

➭ ADDITIONAL WATCH LINKS

more wooooooooo

—

i'm going to tentatively open my requests (for watch links & gifs) so feel free to send a polite ask for something you may be seeking. it's much easier for me to keep track of asks than dms, if you don't mind sending there :)

okay friends enjoy! ヽ(゜∇゜)ノ

—

WATCH LINKS MASTERPOST / FAQ / TAGS / ASK

[kuriboo]

Hey i hope you don't mind or find this weird/rude. I just wanted to reach out here because i saw you have this blog linked on another account and i also saw you was the one running that ygo server promo'd in tags awhile back? ( a year or so ago. ) i wanted to check in with you if you're doing well? I know you are probably busy with IRL stuff so please don't feel you have to reply to this at all. before realizing i think i know you from somewhere else i wanted to ask if the server still active and chill? i'm shy in big groups so i wanted to check before considering. I hope you had a wonderful christmas/holiday!

i'll be honest anon i have not been doing so hot.

which is why, i'm not entirely sure what other blog you found this blog on (which is totally fine!) (i have an inkling it might be my rp account but i may be wrong), but there is a good chance i have been dead silent there for months.

to put it mildly, i've been overwhelmed with life. i keep having house issues, there are so many health issues going on between myself and family (i may be looking at gallbladder surgery in the near future, and if not that, i need wisdom teeth removed and i have to find a surgeon that takes my insurance for that still. and that's just me.), house issues, car issues, and work. i love my job. i feel fulfilled at my job. my job is genuinely fun sometimes. however things keep happening (client actions) that genuinely fuck with me. like the guy who keeps getting drunk and harassing my coworkers [but not me? but that puts me in a VERY awkaward situation being hte only staff he'll talk to.]

the amount of stress this has put on me is LARGE. which is why i've basically been silent everywhere besides this account (kuriboo) and the yugioh server. and the yugioh server, i love the people that are there greatly, but if i was not running that server my anxiety might keep me from being active there too.

holiday's been good, though! i took about a week and a half off bc i had pto to use up before losing it at the end of the year (i did work a couple hours on christmas but it was the kind of work that renewed my faith in humanity and gave me christmas cheer), i'm out at my brother's place for a couple more days, i've been spending time with family and things have overall been good this past week and a half, house issues be damned.

all of this to say, i'm positive the account you came to kuriboo from has been basically ghosted by me and i feel so bad and i'm very sorry. i've been so overwhelmed that my anxiety won't let me do a lot of things.

The yugioh server is still active! Honestly, more active than ever. Which is crazy to me, haha. It's chill most of the time. I host poll tournaments on there (we're currently running a yugioh villain tournament) and sometimes we get a little over the top about the proproganda of who we want to sway votes towards (i think a powerpoint presentation is being created) (the last match [pegasus vs spectre] devolved into bribes and ended as a draw anyway), but that's like, not the usual vibe.

most everyone currently active is very nice and chill though from what i've witnessed. lots of writers in the server, and we have an rp section in the server that's fairly active but extremely casual [currently there is a huge rp thread going on named simple rescue. it's not nearly as simple as the name implies.] i do rp in this server, and we all encourage each other with writing projects and do sprints together and stuff. that's not to say there's no artists. we've gotten more artists recently! and i love seeing everyone's art <3 it's a fun creative place and this server is the only reason i've done any writing in the past six months or so honestly.

but i mean like, you don't gotta be a writer or an artist or an rper to join either. it's perfectly fine not to. genuinely, i think it's a cool place to see some art and fics. or just talk about your favorite yugioh series, or to get into some yugioh analysis or whatever. there's a whole squad of us watching go rush (not simultaneously) and we just talk about how much of a roller coaster it is.

it's a good vibe for me, and i hope it's a good vibe for everyone else!

if you wanna join we'd be happy to have you!

[nihilnovisubsole]

oh, right, shadowbringers! i'm overdue for another ffxiv bullet point vibe check. i actually finished it a couple of weeks ago, and then my sink exploded [long story] and i wanted to chew on it for a while. it's clear that this expac is an overwhelming fan favorite, so i figured i should formulate some more intelligent thoughts about it.

part of me worries that my shadowbringers experience was colored by how badly i missed the people and places on the source. more than the aether and gods and soul transference and all that stuff, what i really took away was a sense of loneliness. the first isn't my world. its citizens are strangers to me, though i recognize on a philosophical level that i should help them. even the scions - in theory, my closest comrades - have lived for years in the blink of my eye and become very different people. when did thancred become responsible? when did the twins grow up? i wondered what other NPCs were doing without me. all i wanted was to go home.

on the other hand, i read a theory that this is the point. the story wants you to feel cut loose from everything you know. are you still a hero in an emotional vacuum? will you still put yourself on the line to do the right thing? sure, your world will be doomed if theirs falls, but that possibility seems so huge and far-off that it doesn't register in your gut. i don't think that's the writing failing to connect with me or anything. if that's the intent, it's an interesting feeling for a game to evoke.

i may have also exacerbated that feeling by keeping my actual avatar isolated on norvrandt for so long. i mentioned earlier that i play around the game's day-night cycle, running missions based on when they'll feel most immersive. that extends to maps, too: if the story says i'm stuck in a place, i stay around that place until the story carries me elsewhere. i mean, i'll dip out for wondrous tails and daily cactpot and stuff, but i don't take big story vacations to jet around eorzea. i didn't "come back" from the far east in stormblood until doma was free. that's a lot of MSQ to just spend alone with your thoughts.

there's a storytelling paradox at work: the first's problems are so large and so bad that it's smaller and more personal when you become invested in someone's plight. i expected to care a lot about liberating ala mhigo because i'm so fond of raubahn as a character, and i did. i didn't expect to feel the pity that i felt for, say, kai-shirr, or runar's unrequited crush on y'shtola. it comes on slowly and quietly.

i don't know. it's a curious story. it's a melancholy story. it's a lot more experimental than the expacs that came before it. it'd probably be worth it to new-game-plus it at some point to pay closer attention to the individual character arcs.

same goes for emet-selch. he's a curious villain. i don't sympathize with his methods, and i obviously have no romantic interest in him. but i keep mulling him over. he keeps lurking in the back of my mind, which means that his writing succeeds by virtue of being memorable.

to my mind, everything around amaurot contributes to that success. amaurot is where it all starts to come together for me. it's a beautiful, odd place - art deco in final fantasy? who knew? - and the pinnacle of the arc's surreal "this is a dream, but tangible" tone. you can tell the team wanted to go all out with the ascian reveals they'd been building up to for years. i wonder if they had fun designing it.

even if it is. i. hm. no i shan't say it

all right, i'll say it

I AM EMET-SELCH AND I AM HERE TO ASK YOU A QUESTION

there, it's out of my system. on a less ridiculous note, i finally got royce's canon armor! now i can gpose freely. i wish there were an in-engine way to pose with NPCs, but them's the breaks. who knows? maybe we'll get it eventually. it is a live service game.

[jamiesnovels]

Writing with ADHD

I was diagnosed with ADHD just over two months ago. It was only then that I realized just how debilitating it was to my creative endeavor.

For context, I have been writing – or perhaps I should say, trying to write – for about twenty years now. The relative brevity of school projects, coupled with the multitasking nature of upper-level courses, made school writing assignments doable. Still, I remember many a day in college spent vomiting words on paper as quickly as I could, skimming and re-skimming and re-re-skimming the same section of the book I was supposed to have read days or even weeks ago to find whatever I could to BS my way to some sort of poignant point. This was not most assignments, to be clear, but it was more than a few.

I will emphasize, I did well in school, from the year my writing spark came to me all the way through college. My psychologist suggested my focus on subjects that interested me, as well as the multitasking aspect of study, was a coping mechanism. At any rate, while focused on school, my free time was rarely spent on my passion.

Not for lack of trying: Every year, I’d have one or two different story ideas in my head, and I’d feverishly scribble through a composition notebook (College Rule, of course) with my No. 2 pencil (Dixon Ticonderoga, always), or since college, my Pilot G-2 black-ink pen (0.38 font, or 0.5 if I absolutely had to). (You may infer from my parentheticals that I had a thing about space optimization, maximizing words-per-page, but I digress.)

Those ideas never got far. Every time, I would slow to a stop after one or two weeks at most. Dismayed by my grammar, overwhelmed by the plot rolling around in my head, or just embarrassed that someone might read what I wrote and judge me harshly for it. The plot in my head stayed in my head. Ideas stayed ideas.

And as I got older, I slowed down. College was part of it: nearly all my free time was spent on homework or the one or two clubs I enjoyed. And then when work came along, the mental effort and sheer stress left me exhausted by the end of the day.

My First Breakthrough

In November 2021, I decided to join NaNoWriMo. (Referencing that organization leaves a foul taste in my mouth today, following its many scandals that leave it disgraced. But I digress.)

I joined because I was tired of being tired all the time. I was tired of having all these ideas in my head and never getting them down on paper. I was tired of always feeling like a failure. I had to prove to myself that I could do it.

And I did. In three weeks and change, I had a vomit draft of a story I had ideated over the past couple years, the first in a five-book series. It was a grand achievement for me. Just writing every day for a whole month was huge, but to turn around and see that I had produced so much in so little time was eye-opening.

I realized, from this experience, that I can do it. I can produce, even with ADHD, even with a day job that sapped all my energy, even with everything else going on in this world.

Then I started revising. At first, the momentum continued. I managed to do a lot to clean up the very concept of the story by early 2022. I changed settings, improved pacing, honed in on my central message, and made my protagonist more relatable. But that was the easy part.

As I began drilling down the scope of my revisions, my drive rapidly faded. The more I had to think about my novel, the less energy I had to expend on it. More and more, I would try to tackle something, get overwhelmed after a couple days, then drop the whole project for months – even over a year at one point!

I simply did not have the mental energy to expend on it. It was demoralizing, especially after such an early success.

My Second Breakthrough

A few months ago, I started seeing a therapist. After some sessions, they recommended I find someone to investigate whether I had ADHD, and with a little luck, I landed a psychologist with the proper credentials. Then I was diagnosed.

I started my ADHD treatment the day after I turned 28. It was like night and day.

That day, I told myself I was going to plunge back into my novel, just to see how I could do. I did more work on that novel in a single day than I think I’ve done in the time between then and February 2022.

And every single day since I began my treatment, I’ve continued working. Comparing my novel today to the one two months ago… they’re pretty much nothing alike. Today, I can only say that I am extraordinarily happy with where my book is.

But I’m going to say something that might surprise you: the secret to my turnaround was not medication. While I did in fact start medication, I still found myself overwhelmed at the prospect of tackling my draft. Until I began working on another tactic recommended for ADHD folks like myself: goal-setting.

Goal-setting

Setting attainable sub-goals for my story progress gave me that extra little bit of motivation I needed to wake up each morning and get right back to work. I personally found success with the S.M.A.R.T. goal framework: Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Relevant, and Time-Bound.

Okay, in my first draft of this blog post, I got a little carried away and started writing in detail each step of S.M.A.R.T. This post is long enough already, and there are tons of guides on the internet going into better detail than I did.

What I really want to give you is an understanding that, to write with ADHD, I needed to set concrete, small, achievable goals – with a deadline. Because what drives me, and what I believe drives many ADHD folks, is that sense of accomplishment when a goal is achieved. That dopamine rush when we can say “I did X” or “I accomplished Y.”

To give ourselves a healthy dose of dopamine, to keep ourselves going, we need to start small. Have an idea in your head? Try to come up with at least a couple small goals to be completed before you even start your vomit draft. Have the theme written down by the end of today, define the characters and their arcs by the end of the week, sketch out the beats by next Tuesday. Those are just examples, but hopefully you get the idea.

If your only goal is “I wanna write a book,” you’re going to be working for weeks or months or years toward that goal. That dopamine rush is so far away, you can’t expect to keep your motivation up for all that time. And if you try to rush it, you will fail: you don’t have time to complete and polish a whole book in a month. No, you need to start small. Small doses of dopamine every few days will give you much more drive to keep going.

The reason my progress sloughed off in early 2022 was because I didn’t have any small, attainable goals on the horizon. I just wanted to “finish the draft.” It was too much for anyone to stick with, let alone someone with ADHD. And even after I got medication, the idea of tackling the massive draft was still overwhelming. Until I gave myself a small goal to start with.

Conclusion

I hope you found this interesting, maybe even a little bit helpful. If you can relate to anything I’ve touched on here, feel free to leave a comment – I’d love to hear your story. While you’re at it, consider following; I’m trying to navigate a world very new to me with this social media presence, so the support would be extremely helpful. Finally, if you know anyone else who may relate to any of these words I’ve written, consider sharing my post with them.

Thank you so very much for reading!

[bluestar22x]

Chapter 8

Baby Fever - Chapter 8

Series Summary: It all started with a classic case of baby fever

Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!(Wife)Reader

Rating: 18+ Series

Warnings: Slight angst/anxiety, some fowl language, plenty of fluff

Word Count: 2,000 (ish)

Author's Note: This one took a lot of pondering to figure out what to write, but it came to me all at once so I got this typed up pretty fast. It's another slightly angsty but later fluffy chapter.

xxx

You'd never been big on parties, at least not ones centered around you. Even as a child, you'd found yourself blushing when your family sang you happy birthday or when they made a big deal out of your graduations (8th grade, high school, and college). You weren't a super shy person, but you didn't like being the center of attention when in a large group.

It wasn't any different with your baby shower. If anything it was worst. At twenty-eight weeks pregnant, the beginning of your third trimester, you were starting to feel huge, and that day you were feeling particularly achy and moody. You loved your family, but you spent most of the party grinning and baring it, putting on a show for their sakes.

It didn't help your mother and sister had surprised you with it, only telling Marcus to bring you and drop you off at your mother's house at nine in the morning on that day. If you'd had a say you'd have made it so everyone could be there, including Marcus, but since your mom had taken a large roll in the planning of it the celebration was traditional in every sense of the word - meaning no boys allowed.

Normally you wouldn't have been too bothered by being separated from Marcus for a few hours, you still worked full time after all, but the mood swings you'd been having recently meant that sometimes you were really clingy to him, and that was the feeling you had that day. You just wanted to go home and curl up in his arms.

On top of that, getting baby gifts from your family really brought home that you were just a few months away from having your baby, already. Despite the roller coaster ride that your pregnancy had been at times, it had flown by, and you felt overwhelmed by how much you still had left to do before the baby arrived.

You'd survived your baby shower, but by the time your aunts and cousins left you were exhausted and more than a little anxious to get home.

Your sister offered to bring you home after your last aunt left at three, and helped you load your parents' car up with all the gifts you'd gotten. Once everything was packed in you shared a final hug with your mom who told you, knowingly, to get some rest.

"When are you going back home?" you asked your sister on the way out of your parents' driveway.

"I'm going to be on an early flight tomorrow morning," Emily replied.

"How's Aaron doing alone with Henry?"

Emily had come to Washington D.C. without her little family this time.

"Henry just started potty training so I can imagine it's been an interesting couple of days," she said with a chuckle, "But Aaron's been an amazing dad so I don't think I'll be walking into a horror show when I get back, hopefully."

"Was it hard leaving Henry for two days?" you inquired curiously.

She sighed. "More than you could imagine. He's growing up so fast. I'm afraid when I get back I'll find a teenager in my house."

You snorted. "That's a little dramatic, Em. But I think I can kind of relate on that part. It feels like just weeks ago, not months, that I found out I was pregnant."

"How are you feeling about that?" she quizzed. "You seemed kind of off today."

It was your turn to sigh. "I'm just in a mood today, and you know how much I love parties -"

"Sorry -"

"It's okay," you assured her. "I appreciate you and mom throwing it for me. I promise, I do. And the gifts will really help out. There's so much to buy for a new baby, you know that, and now I can cross off like ninety-nine percent of the items off my list. It'll be less stressful in the long run."

"The thing is, it reminded me how close I am to being a mother and how I don't feel as prepared as I thought I'd feel by now," you admitted.

"Oh, sis," Emily said with a sympathetic tone, "They say no one's ready for a reason. You can only prepare for parenthood so much. Most of it is learn as you go, especially since each baby is unique. You probably won't understand her at all at the beginning, and that's going to be tiring and stressful, but it gets better, and you will get there."

You curled an arm around the underneath of your swollen belly and nodded, feeling a little better at her honesty. "Thanks, I needed to hear that. There's still a part of me that's going to continue fret about all I need to do before though."

"That's only natural," she told you. "Just remember you aren't alone. Aaron was a big help. I'm sure Marcus has and will be as well. That man's always stuck to your side whenever I see you together; I'm surprised he didn't insist on staying."

You laughed. "Yeah. He's been great. I couldn't ask for a better partner. I never thought a man could be so attentive before him."

Emily smiled warmly. "I'm so happy you found him, sis. Especially since that led to my little niece."

You rubbed your baby bump as a smile also graced your face. "I am too."

x

Marcus was approaching the car even before your sister had it in park in your driveway, having probably been watching out for it.

He stood by your door as you got out and gave you a peck on the cheek before shutting it behind you.

"Did you enjoy the party?" he questioned.

"It wasn't bad," you answered honestly. "I wish you could've been there though."

"I was banned from entering the house," he told you.

You rolled your eyes. "That's my mother for you." You loved her, but she was a stickler for traditions, whether they were outdated or not.

His eyes registered the stuffed back seat and his eyebrows shot up. "We might need a bigger room for the baby."

You chuckled. "My family has never been stingy on gifts. Especially for babies. I don't think we'll have to buy much. There's some stuff in there I'd never even thought about getting. Never saw them on any of the essentials-to-buy lists online."

"Those are never complete," Emily huffed as she glanced over to you both. "Trust me, you'll need it all."

She made her way to the trunk and started filling her arms with items, handing you some lighter ones as she did so, while Marcus took on the heavier objects. Between the three of you the car was unpacked in fifteen minutes and all the gifts were cluttered in the center of what used to be the spare guest room.

Marcus had been busy while you were at the baby shower evidently, having put a layer of fresh paint on the walls - a lovely shade of yellow you had chosen out with him a week before at the nearest hardware store. It reminded you of the sun at sunrise.

"The paint looks great," you told him after your sister had left to return to your parents' house. "I thought you were going to wait until my dad could help you though?"

"I had nothing else to do today, and I figured hey, I have an art degree, I should be able to paint a few damn walls by myself," he explained.

"In art history," you pointed out with a laugh.

He shrugged. "No matter."

You grinned. "You're right. It doesn't matter. And thank you."

"No need to thank me," he said, pulling you into his embrace and kissing your temple. "I want to do whatever I can for you and the baby, which really isn't all that much. This feels like the least I can do."

"You help more than you think," you told him, resting your head against his expansive shoulder. "But I know how you can contribute more."

He gave you his full attention and you smiled at him before gesturing at the closet. "Get in there and clear it out. We're going to need the storage space."

"So bossy," he teased as he parted from you to follow the order.

"You like that."

"True."

x

An hour later the nursery's closet had gone from being filled with random items you and Marcus rarely used to being stuffed with baby clothes, toys, and diapers. Lots of diapers.

Most of the stuff he'd taken out you decided could go in the basement, but there was one item you'd insisted you would find space upstairs for - Marcus' old bass guitar.

He'd once been in a band with his college buddies, had played bass and even sang back up vocals a little, but once he'd graduated he had all but retired from playing. He'd played for you a few times while you were dating, but most days it sat around collecting dust.

Despite this, there was no way you were going to have him get rid of it or hide it in an even easier spot to forget about it. You loved that Marcus could play an instrument. Having a boyfriend who was in a band would've been your dream come true as a teen. You were still kinda bummed you hadn't met him back when his band was active.

At least you could still have a private show on occasion.

"Play something for me," you demanded, shoving the instrument at him after the nursery was mostly organized.

He obliged you without any protest, setting up everything he needed to get the bass guitar in working order, and sat down in the rocking chair your mother had gifted you last month.

He began to pluck at the strings with his thick fingers and you leaned against the wall as you listened carefully to the music he was making. The beat sounded familiar and you wanted to take a guess at what song he was covering.

After thirty seconds or so, you were pretty sure you'd figured it out, but you waited until the end of the song to guess, beaming at him as he gently placed the guitar on the floor beside his leg. "Was that Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic?"

He smiled back up at you. "It is, though I slowed it down a bit."

"The Police," you hummed, stepping towards him. "My man has great tastes."

"That's what you say every time I play," he said with a smirk.

"It's true every time." Marcus was a classics kind of guy, and you were good with that.

Your knees brushed his and he spread his legs so you could stand between them. He met your eyes as you did so, and his hands traveled up your blue maternity jeans to your waist, where he fanned his right one out over your firm swell. He soothed the area then bent forward to kiss the center of it, and your heart soared watching him make the soft gesture. You raked a hand through the hair at the back of his head, basking in the moment.

When he lifted his head again he gently guided you away from him so he could stand and kiss you sweetly on the lips. "I'll go start dinner."

"You don't have to do that," you protested. "You've worked all day."

"You've been busy too," he pointed out before kissing you again, "And you know I like to make a fuss."

That he did, and you were too tired to argue against something that was deeply embedded in his nature.

"Fine, but I'm making tomorrow's meals."

"Deal."

And with that, he led you down the hall to the couch before setting to his cooking task.

It wasn't until he called for you to come eat (pancakes of course) that it occurred to you how fitting the lyrics of the song he'd chosen to play was for him.

xxx

Tagged: @amyispxnk, @harriedandharassed

xxx

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

xxx

[never-not-ever]

When someone wakes up at 8am and went to bed at 8pm it's like hey, you got some good sleep! But when you sleep until 5pm but didn't go to bed til 5am it sounds like too much sleep and very bad for you!! That was me and it means I'm definitely into a pattern now and am probably going to be up until the early morning agan.

That being said I was up a couple times this morning. My Nana's cousin was supposed to come this morning to fix two doors in my apartment and someone from PACT was dropping off my weekly meds so I had to have my phone on and wasn't really in a deep sleep. The guy never came but the PACT person did come and said "the nurses just want to make sure you're coming Tuesday?". I'm supposed to have weekly sessions with my case manager/peer specialist but I've only seen her once since I got out 😐. She was sick once and then I had scheduling issues with the car I'm sharing with my Nana so appointments got pushed and canceled. Besides getting meds weekly and the nurse asking how I'm doing and I say "eh, okay", the PACT team doesn't really know how things actually are...

Anyways because I kept waking up I had SO many dreams and weird ones. I remember I was about to eat a steak sandwich and I had a piece and was like what are you doing you're vegetarian?!?.... Then a dream I was in a partial program at McLean and newer people that came from my old unit was saying the one of the patients who's still there said hi. Then I was organizing some weird tray of different glass cups and my old fav nurse who's now on overnights was telling me to stop touching it. Then I was like walking along the curb on Storrow Drive (?!?!?) with some other people from partial. Then one where her cousin actually showed up but he was drunk and a lot younger than what age my Nana said. Strange.

I got dinner with some friends last night and I was so anxious cause this was the first social thing I've done in well over a year! Even last summer I hardly saw them cause I was working so much. But one friend came up from NC for the weekend cause she's from here and she has some family things going on. Then there were 3 other friends (two are in a relationship), the 5 of us have a group chat that we talk a lot on. At first the dinner was going to be just us but then 2 other girls got invited and I was so tempted to cancel cause it started to feel overwhelming with so many people. I didn't want to cancel cause my friend from NC had a horrible morning so I ended up going and it wasn't that bad.

It's so weird that it's after 6pm and it feels/technically is like my day just started. The light coming in from the windows sort of looks like when the sun starts to rise so I can kind of trick my mind into thinking it's early morning 😂.

I need to go out in a little bit to pick up some groceries and while typing all this I got a whiff of apple cider 🧐 so I added hot apple cider to the list! I'm planning on making Pasta e Fagioli soup later. My Nana used to make it when I was growing up so I'm excited to try making it myself. I made lentil soup a couple weeks ago but it made a huge batch and I had soup for days plus soup in my freezer so I need to try to downsize this one.

[i-believe-in-melinda-may]

Okay, this was way too easy to write, and more importantly i am proud of it. it feels like a good combo of cannon and the necessary's differences for my story.

A couple of hours after he received his family photo from his crew Bill, knowing that his son is on his ship but avoiding him, is waiting where the ship he knows Laura is on is docking. As while he doesn’t technically have to great her in person he wants to.

“Commander?” Aaron Doral, the public relationships officer who has been on the Galactica for the past few weeks. “I didn’t realise you’d be greeting Secretary Roslin personally,” Doral says, clearly surprised by Bill’s presence.  

“I thought it was for best,” Bill admits, though the truth is even with how complicated things are, how painful they are, he just wants to see her as soon as possible.

“Of course,” Doral responds, clearly confused.

After waiting for about a minute Bill sees Laura walk climb down the latter and as she turns towards him Bill feels, just for a second, like the wind is knocked out of him as even though he saw her a few months ago he is still overwhelmed by the sight of seeing her as whenever he sees her he is transported back to when he was thirty and they first met.  

“Secretary Roslin,”: Doral says, walking up to her, and because he is staring at Laura Bill doesn’t notice the second person he loves climbing down the ladder, not until he hears;

“Dad!” EJ exclaims, dropping her bag by her mom and hurrying towards him, as she thought she would have to get someone to take her to her father, she didn’t expect him to be waiting.

“EJ,” Bill says amazed, but shocked to see her as he wasn’t expecting her, once he is close enough EJ throws her arms around her father, hugging him tightly.

“I’ve missed you,” EJ says as her father picks her up as he hugs her.

“I’ve missed you too,” Bill assures his daughter, a huge smile on his face, kissing her cheek, not seeing the fond smile on Laura’s face as she picks up their daughter’s bag. “I’m really glad you’re here,” Bill admits, hugging his daughter for a few moments before he puts her back down on the ground, feeling completely thrilled to see her.

“I’m glad to be here,” EJ admits, as she and her father break apart.

“Madam Secretary,” Bill greats, looking at Laura who has walked towards him with Doral and someone he doesn’t know, trying to be professional but the smile on his face destroys the effect.  

“Commander,” Laura responds, fighting a smile, as even with everything else going on Laura does feel glad to see Bill again.

“Is Lee here yet?” EJ asks curious, interrupting what seems to be a staring match going on between her parents.  

“Yeah, he arrived not long ago,” Bill tells his daughter, who looks excited about that.

“EJ, your dad and I have to talk about a point of disagreement we’re having about the museum,” Laura reveals, and Bill knows exactly what that is about. “Do you want to go see Lee why we do that?” Laura asks, her tone indicating it is a suggestion, but it’s not as the truth is she doesn’t want EJ around when there is a potential for her and Bill to have a fight.

“Sure,” EJ says, being pretty sure it’s not a suggestion, despite what her mother’s tone indicates.

“Captain,” Bill says, as one of his men Captain Kelly is walking past.

“Commander?” Captain Kelly asks, turning to look at Bill.

“This is my daughter EJ Adama, her brother Captain Lee Adama has arrived and is in the pilots rec-room, please take her to him and stay with EJ until she is with her brother,” Bill orders, as while he trusts his crew he would feel better about his daughter’s safety if she had an escort.

“Yes Sir,” The Captain confirms, realising from Bill’s tone of voice that he is trusting him with something that is precious to him.

“I’ll see you later,” Bill assures his daughter, giving her a one-armed hug and kissing the side of her head.

“EJ, stay with your bother, get him to bring you to….” Laura says, looking between Bill and Doral, waiting for one of them to fill in where she will be staying while on Galactica.

“Guest quarters,” Bill finishes.

“In a little while,” Laura says, really wanting to see her son, but also knowing that her conversation with Bill could last a while.

“Yep, got it,” EJ confirms, as Doral is trying to put together the pieces he is missing as he didn’t realise there was a connection between Bill and Laura, which is worrying as it is the exact kind of thing he should have been warned about. “I can’t wait to see more of your ship,” EJ says to her father.

“She’s got plenty to show,” Bill responds, as EJ walks away with Captain Kelly while Laura walks up to him. “Thank you for bringing her,” Bill says, to Laura, the gratitude he is feeling about that perfectly clear in his voice.

“Don’t thank me, she wanted to come, really wanted to be here for you,” Laura reveals, feeling that is important for Bill to know that, and after how absent he has been in his life Bill isn’t sure he deserves EJ’s support.

“I’m glad she’s here,” Bill tells Laura, as while he is always going to be glad to have his daughter around it means more to him to have her be on the Galactica.

“I know,” Laura responds, as she knew it would mean a lot to Bill to have EJ come to The Galactica. “Bill we’ve go to talk about the computer network,” Laura informs Bill as they start to walk together, Doral and Billy walking behind them.

“Laura, you know how I feel about computer networks,” Bill says, being sure that she hasn’t forgotten that about him.

“I do, but this is different, it’s just going to tell people things like where the restroom is, and…” Laura starts to explain.

“It’s not different, it’s still an intergraded computer network, and I will not have it aboard this ship,” Bill says, his tone of voice making it clear that he won’t be talked out of this.

“Still as stubborn as ever I see,” Laura comments, as the two of them stop to look at each other, Laura resisting the urge to roll her eyes as after twenty seven years of knowing Bill Adama she knows it won’t get her anywhere, as Billy and Doral stop walking several steps behind, both feeling curious about what is going on, but not wanting to intrude.

“When it’s something that matters,” Bill responds. “I know you, Laura, so I know you’re just thinking of ways to make it faster and easier for teacher to teach but what you need to remember are the stories I’ve told you of that many good men and women lost their lives aboard this ship because someone wanted a faster computer to make life easier,” Bill says to Laura, who can see the passion blaze behind Bill’s eyes as he speaks. “I am sorry that it will inconveniencing you and your teachers,” Bill says, meaning that. “But I will not allow a network computerized system to be placed aboard this ship while I’m command, and I would like to believe that despite everything I still have enough of your respect not to install it after the ship transfers to the Education ministry’s control,” Bill says to Laura, making an impassioned argument counting on their history to assure Laura makes what he considers to be the right decision, and because there was once a time where she knew Bill better than anyone else in the world Laura can hear the desperation behind his words, and she knows that not only is he desperate but he is afraid of what could happen if a network computer system is added to Galactica, and as she knows what it takes to make Bill afraid Laura knows what she has to do, even if it is going to mean she is going to have another fight in the short life she has left.  

“I can’t make any promises, not once it’s transferred to the ministry, but I will do everything in my power to make sure an integrated computer network isn’t added to the Galactica,” Laura tells Bill.

“Thank you, Laura,” Bill says, the gratitude in his voice perfectly clear.

“You’re welcome, Bill,” Laura responds.