#fic: a forever you and me
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magicicephoenix · 17 days ago
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i finally finished reading I see you, Sundrop! by @shirajellyfish and IT'S SO GOOD I CAN'T BELIEVE IT TOOK ME THIS LONG TO FINISH IT RAAAAAAA
i will be gushing about it in the tags but here's a lil animation i made based on the below paragraph in chapter 6 that gave me such a strong mental image that i had to make it real :)
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quailsprout · 2 months ago
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prime and protector fanart for @astolat's story, fool's hope on ao3
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zephyrchama · 3 months ago
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Dark Past
A common demon on the street caught your eye. You slowed, almost to a halt, just to gaze at them. They paid you no mind at all. You were two strangers with no connection in the middle of a crowded street. As they passed, you turned your neck for one final glance before continuing on.
The seven demons you were walking with noticed your little stare. Some of them exchanged quizzical looks. None of them had ever seen that random demon before. They didn't look special. Leviathan paused in his tracks to glare daggers of envy at the stranger, cursing them in his mind for stealing your attention.
"Someone you know?" Satan asked. It was hard to hear him over Mammon shouting, "Who was that?"
"What?" You fixed your eyes on them, confused by the sudden outburst. Beelzebub tenderly placed a hand on your back and guided you around some uneven pavement.
"Who was that demon you were staring at?" Belphegor asked.
"I wasn't staring at anyone."
"Yes, you were." Lucifer didn't question you, but he crossed his arms expectantly. His brothers would do all the work of wrestling an answer out of you for him.
"I saw you rubberneck so hard, I thought you were going to chase after them!" Asmodeus must have been exaggerating. You only glanced at that demon for a second max, or so you believed.
You didn't think it was a big deal, and brushed the incident off with, "they just reminded me of something." You hoped that would suffice as an answer. It did not.
"And what would that be?" Satan sounded like a courtroom interrogator trying to corner a lying defendant.
At some point, the eight of you had come to a stop in front of a closed and shuttered business, letting the foot traffic flow around you. The seven of them boxed you in and blocked your view of the rest of the street, circling you like a pack of hungry sharks. You waved your hands at the ridiculous bunch.
"I was just looking! What's it matter to you guys?"
Mammon got right up in your face. "I'm in charge of protectin' you! I can't be lettin' you stare at every chump lookin' to take advantage of ya!"
Asmodeus pulled him aside, claiming, "you should just look at me! I'm the only demon you'll never get tired of staring at." He gave you a wink of fan service that would have sent anyone else into a lustful fervor.
"I... also... don't want you looking at other people," Leviathan mumbled while lacking the courage to look you in the eye. His hand fidgeted with the bottom of his jacket.
"There are many dangers in the Devildom. You know that we have a responsibility to keep you safe, both as an exchange student and as someone very dear to us." Lucifer always had a way with words.
"So, who was that?" Beelzebub asked. He was followed up by Belphegor wondering, "do you know them?"
"No! They just..." You took a deep breath before your admission. "Ok. They look like the demon I would pretend to be when I was a kid."
There it was, the truth. Out in the open. There was a long beat of silence.
Belphegor was the first to go "huh?"
Leviathan caught on quickly. "Like, a demonsona? You had a demonsona?"
"It's something a lot of human kids do," you hurried to explain. "On playgrounds and stuff. When we're little we imagine we're secretly vampires and demons and cool monsters. It's fun but we grow out of it, usually."
Belphegor tried to clarify. "So you pretended you were a demon, and that you looked like the one who just walked by?"
You swear you heard Lucifer snort, trying to hold back his laughter.
"That is sooooooooo cute!" Asmodeus did not hold back. He started cracking up, his high-pitched laughter ringing around the street, and wiped a tear from his eye. "So, for years you played pretend demon?"
"Want me to go get them and ask for their picture?" Beelzebub offered. "I can catch up pretty quickly.
"No!" The offer was mortifying. "Lets just go, we have to finish our errands."
"You had a demonsona," Leviathan repeated with a smile and a chuckle. "That is kind of cute."
"Why somebody like that loser? Why not imagine someone cooler, like me?" Mammon flexed his wings in a show of vanity, as if he could make child-you change their mind.
"I didn't know you then, Mammon. I was, like, ten. All demons were cool."
"That's funny. Humans are so silly," Belphegor chimed.
"I was a child!" You spun to look at Belphegor, sticking an accusatory finger in his face. "You don't get to make fun of me, seeing as you pretended to be human when we met. You're thousands of years old! Act your age!"
"Ok, but I can do that because I'm a demon." Belphegor explained. He ran a hand through his hair, making his horns briefly disappear. "It's what we do."
"Yeah, it's different for us," Satan agreed.
Lucifer cleared his throat and stated, "I imagine we should continue this conversation while walking, now that we have an answer. Unless you lot want to spend all night on the street." He took a step back and gestured down the road in the direction you all were headed.
Sensing an escape from this topic, you nudged your way through the wall of demon brothers and followed after Lucifer, hoping to leave this memory behind. One by one, everyone else followed suit.
Leviathan sped up to match his pace to yours. Once the group was back on track and you thought the conversation was in the past, he asked, "so did you imagine having any cool powers?"
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katsu28 · 8 months ago
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for you i'd wait forever
pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader
summary: bradley breaks things off with you before a deployment because he doesn't want you to worry about him (4.2k)
warnings: some swearing, bradley's commitment issues, happy ending i promise!
a/n: okay so from what i gathered from my googling is that tapping out is typically for new military graduates (i think?) but this idea was so cute so pls forgive the inaccuracies i have no idea what i'm doing at all <3 and also pls forgive me for the utter lack of writing since the beginning of the year, these last few months have been brutal (creatively and otherwise) but i am hopefully back!!! xx
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Bradley thought he knew the tolls of being in the Navy. It was tough on not only him, but the people in his life. For the most part, he’d always put his career first. His life had always been on a set track, and although there were plenty of setbacks, he forged ahead until he got where he was today. 
And then he met you. Fell in love with you. Finally knew what it meant to have someone in his corner who was just his. Who knew him for him only, not as Goose’s kid, or Mav’s protege.
For the first time in his life, he could actually see himself spending the rest of it with you. Marriage, house, kids, grandkids—the whole shebang.
That was his first mistake. The more he thought about what life could look like with you, the more he thought about what your life could look like without him. What would happen if something happened to him and he didn’t make it back from this next mission coming up in a few weeks. 
He thought about his mom and how she lost his dad—her husband. The man she thought she’d be spending the rest of her life with. 
Bradley’s thoughts grew quite grim after that. Countless what if’s and thinking about every possible outcome and he eventually made up his mind. He had to break up with you. 
He didn’t want to. Not by a long shot. You were probably the best thing that ever happened to him in his thirty plus years of life. But deep down, he knew that it was the right thing to do. He was about to leave for six, seven months, with little to no contact with anyone who wasn’t Navy. That would definitely take a toll on your relationship. You’d never been through something like this before, and there really was no way to prepare you for what it would be like. 
You would worry about him every single hour of every single day, he knew that for a fact. Bradley barely remembered what it was like when his dad was away because he was so young, but he did remember how worried his mom was all the time.
Looking back, he understood now. He didn’t want that for you. The worry would hold you back from other things you wanted to do in life, things that brought you joy and gave you purpose. 
With the mission creeping up on him faster than he would’ve liked, he knew he had to do it sooner rather than later. 
That was how Bradley found himself on your doorstep right now, pushing down his guilt by telling himself over and over that breaking up with you was in your best interest. He hadn’t called beforehand to tell you he was coming by, so when you answered the door and beamed brighter than the stars when your eyes landed on him, he almost wanted to chicken out. 
“Hi!” You exclaimed, immediately pulling him into a warm hug. His arms closed around you out of instinct, thumb rubbing over the sliver of exposed skin at your waist, nose nudging its way against your neck the way he always did when you embraced him. 
He inhaled the scent of the lotion you loved to use, that flowery one that sometimes made him sneeze. You always said you’d buy a different one the next time you went to the store, but you always forgot. He didn’t mind it at all though. A small bout of allergies was nothing compared to the inevitable smattering of apology kisses you pressed to his face when you realized you’d forgotten. 
Fuck, this was going to be way harder than he thought. 
Your hands made their way up his biceps to cup his cheeks, eyes darting around his face. “What’re you doing here? Oh my god, did we have something planned? I’m so—” 
“No.” He gave his head a shake, offering you a smile. “No, we didn’t have anything planned. I just…wanted to see you. To talk to you.” 
“Come in, come in, I was just about to start dinner,” You hummed, escaping his embrace with an arm hooked through his to tug him over the threshold. “Trying a new recipe I found the other day, not sure if it’ll turn out good or end up being a shitshow, but—well, you can help me be the judge of that, I guess!” 
“Is it okay if we talk first?” 
If you were confused, you didn’t show it, just changed direction seamlessly, making your way to the couch instead of the kitchen. You sat down, patting the cushion next to you for him to settle on and he did, rubbing his clammy palms against his thighs. 
“Is everything okay?” 
Everything was far from okay, he wanted to say. Instead he inhaled a deep breath before his next words. 
“I wanted to tell you I’m shipping out in a few weeks.” 
Your face fell a little, but you nodded thoughtfully. “Okay. What do we do? Is there anything you can tell me? Like, what’s the best way to get in touch with you, when’s the best time, that kind of stuff? Or is sending letters better? Sorry, I feel like I’m asking a lot of questions. I don’t—I’ve never really done anything like this before, so—” 
“I think we should break up.” He blurted. 
You hesitated before answering, blinking at him like you’d somehow heard him wrong. “What?” 
“It’s hard having someone overseas for a long time, even more so when it’s a partner. It was really hard on my mom, and hard for me having to watch her worry like that for months, and I—I don’t want that for you.” He said quietly, not daring to meet your eyes until he gave his poor excuse for an explanation on why he was doing the one thing he swore he wouldn’t do to you. 
The moment he’d realized he’d fallen in love with you, he’d promised himself he would never abandon you, never break your heart or your trust, and here he was, doing that exact thing. It was tearing him apart inside. 
“I don’t want you to have to go through all that, so it’s just better if we—that we break up now. Before I go.” 
“What are you doing?” 
“I’m sorry. It’s for the best.” 
“Why are you doing this?” Your voice broke just after the last word, swallowed up by a hitched inhale of a breath that had his resolve wavering just the slightest bit. He could barely look you in the eyes the whole time, and now…he didn’t think he could stand the sadness and hurt flooding every single one of your beautiful features. 
“All the worrying and the uncertainty of not knowing what’s happening, I don’t—it wouldn’t be fair to you. I care about you too much to put you through all of that.” 
You were silent for the longest time, eyes glued to the floor as you processed the information. He thought you were about to start crying with the way your brow creased, but when you finally looked back up at him, your gaze had hardened. “Did these last six months mean nothing to you? You’re just gonna throw everything away because what—you don’t think I can handle it?” 
They meant everything to me, he wanted to say. You mean everything to me. 
If he was really being honest with himself, it was him who couldn’t handle it. Still, he forged on, thinking it best to just rip off the bandaid. He could live with being the asshole if it meant sparing you from the terrible experience of him being god knows how many miles away for months. 
“I’m sorry. I wish you nothing but happiness, Y/N. You deserve better than anything I could ever give you.” 
“You wish me nothing but happiness?” You chuckled humorlessly, shaking your head. Bradley’s eyes tracked you across the room as you paced back and forth, guilt ridden expression on full display. All he wanted to do was take all of it back; to kiss you senseless and tell you everything was going to work out, but he couldn’t. He’d burned the bridge, cut the rope. Broke your heart. He felt like the biggest asshole in the world. He probably was. “Screw you, Bradley. I mean it.”
“I’m sorry.” He repeated, for what seemed like the hundredth time. It was all he could say. 
“Get the fuck out of my house.” 
“Y/N, I—” 
You rushed at him, pushing, shoving, sending him stumbling step by step towards the front door until he almost crashed into it had he not managed to pull it open a split second before you shoved him outside. He’d never forget the look of betrayal in your eyes right before you slammed the door in his face. 
Bradley forced his feet to take him back to his car, then to drive away before he could have a chance to even try and make things better. He’d most likely end up making things much, much worse. Though he didn’t think it could get any worse with the way he was feeling about himself right now. You were angry at him, and you had every right to be. 
But had he lingered at your door only moments after, he would’ve heard the thump against the wood that was you sliding down to the floor and the sob that escaped your mouth. 
All because of him. 
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Bradley was happy to finally be coming back home after ages away, but then he realized it—he didn’t have anyone to tap him out this time. His mind jumped to you first, but there was no chance in hell you’d be there for him. You’d probably moved on months ago. Forgotten about him. And with Mav away on another deployment, he really had no one. 
His chest ached the longer he stood at attention, jaw clenched tighter than he meant it to be as he watched the rest of his squad get tapped out by their loved ones. Coyote’s parents, Fanboy’s sisters, Hangman’s nieces and nephews, Phoenix’s girlfriend. They were all emotional reunions, and Bradley was happy for them, he really was. But it sucked being the one with nobody there for him. 
He wasn’t expecting the soft tap on his arm when it came. He thought it was a mistake at first; someone else’s family bumping into him accidentally, so he didn’t move. But when the hand didn’t leave its place wrapped loosely around his bicep, Bradley knew it really was for him. He turned around, squinting against the blinding sunlight to see who’d come for him. 
“Hi.” You said softly, hand dropping back down to your side. He couldn’t help but let himself take you in, eyes drinking in every single achingly familiar detail of you until you shifted nervously under his intense gaze. You looked so beautiful he almost felt dizzy, just like he remembered but at the same time somehow even better. 
“You came.” He said, disbelieving. He could still hardly believe you were actually here. 
“I promised you I would.” 
“But that—that was before…everything happened. Why are you—what’re you doing here?” The last thing he wanted to sound like was ungrateful, because he was quite literally the opposite, but his mind just couldn’t wrap around the fact that despite him breaking your heart seven months ago, you still remembered what you’d promised him in the very beginning of your relationship. 
“What does it mean to tap someone out?” You asked quietly, tracing a finger along the planes of Bradley’s bare chest. Your legs were tangled under the covers, both of you still basking in the aftermath of getting reacquainted with each other again after Bradley had been out of town attending a weeklong training exercise. 
His skin was still damp with sweat, but you didn’t mind one bit, too busy exploring the expanse of muscle shifting under his bronzed skin again. “In military terms, I mean.” 
He chuckled, hiding a content smile into the hair at the crown of your head. “That’s a weird question.” 
“Humor me, Bradshaw.” 
“Yes ma’am.” Bradley stroked a rough palm down the smooth skin of your arm, taking a few beats to come up with an answer that would make sense. “Tapping out is a super long standing tradition in pretty much all military units, I think. It comes at the end of a mission, when we’ve come back to base.” 
His arm repositioned itself under your head as he scooted closer to the warmth radiating from your body, nose nuzzling deeper against you just so he could engrain the smell of your lingering fruity scented shampoo into his memory forever. 
How you still smelled so good even after your…physical activities just before this was beyond him, but he loved it. 
“An aviator’s loved ones are usually the ones to do it. Friends, family, those kinds of people. When you tap out your aviator, literally you’re releasing them from formation. But I guess it’s kind of a gesture that means…you’re home.” 
Your wandering fingers stilled against his skin, lingering right above his heart. “Can I ask you something?” 
“Go for it.” 
“Who usually taps you out?” 
Bradley remained silent. It was an innocent question, he knew that. He’d told you a little bit about his parents, and you were just curious. Still, it sent a pang of sadness through his chest whenever he thought about what it would’ve been like if they were still around today. 
He cleared his throat, sniffing once. “Usually Mav. Or sometimes one of my squad’s family. If no one can, I just gotta wait til everyone else is done.” 
“I wanna do it.”
“What?” 
“I’m gonna be there next time you come back from a mission. To tap you out.” 
“I appreciate it, honey, I do. But you don’t need to.” 
“I want to.” You said firmly, pulling away from him to prop yourself up on your elbow and look him in the eye. You looked damn serious too. He raised a quizzical brow. “You said that to tap someone out means to tell them they’re home. I want to be the one to tell you you’re home. Here. With me.” 
Bradley opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then snapped shut when no words came out. He really was at a loss for words. No one had ever done that before. Sure, Mav’s offer was always a good one to fall back on, but Bradley had never had someone he cared about as much as he did about you telling him they were going to be there for him. 
The next best thing he could think of instead of saying anything at all was to kiss you. So he did. 
He pushed himself up towards you, sliding a hand around the nape of your neck and pressing his lips against yours. Not bruisingly hard, but enough to let you know he was all in. The other hand curled around your shoulder, splaying across your back to bring you back in closer to him, until your chests were flush and you could feel his heartbeat thundering under your palm.
He was home. You were his home. 
“I told you I’d be here to tap you out, and I meant it.” You said simply, holding his gaze. “I keep my promises, Bradshaw. Even after the way you left things.” 
Red hot guilt crept its way through his chest like vines, bringing all the memories of the last time you saw each other right back up to the surface, even after how hard he’d tried to shove them all down. If there was one thing he regretted in life, it was how he left you that night. He didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself for that one. 
“I don’t even know what to say, Y/N, I—” 
“Then let me say something.” You blurted, wringing your hands. Bradley nodded instantly, still too dumbfounded to reply. “I’ve been thinking about what I wanted to say to you today for months. I don’t even know if I should.” 
“You should.” He encouraged, nodding quickly. He’d always wanted you to be able to speak your mind with him. “Don’t hold back. Let me hear it.” 
“Okay. Okay, well first of all, you’re an asshole, Bradley.” 
He nodded again. He deserved at least that much. “I am. Absolute asshole, I know.” 
“But I never stopped loving you. Even though I was angry and sad and confused as fuck as to why you would do that to me, I still loved you. And eventually, I realized that it wasn’t anything I did wrong. You were scared. Of losing me, of me losing you. So you decided it was your responsibility to pull the ripcord before you crashed and burned.” Bradley winced slightly at the comparison and you grimaced at your own poor choice in words. “I—sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” 
“It’s okay. You’re right. You didn’t deserve that.” 
“You said you didn’t want me to worry while you were gone, well, I did that anyways.” You chuckled, like you were remembering a fond memory instead of the constant state of anxiety you’d been in. “But instead of worrying that the man I love might not make it home, I was terrified that if you didn’t come home, I’d spend my whole life replaying our last conversation in my head. Wondering if there was something I could’ve said or done so you wouldn’t have given up on us so easily.” 
“You think that was easy for me? Sweetheart, walking away from you was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in my whole life.” 
“Sure seemed pretty easy.” You scoffed lightly, only a tad spiteful. A low blow, you realized, when Bradley stiffened for a split second, but you held steady. 
“It wasn’t.” His reply was immediate and firm as could be, but somehow, that didn’t make you feel any better. “You have to understand, breaking things off was the last thing I wanted to do. But I couldn’t—I thought that if I didn’t, you’d wait for me.” 
“I would’ve waited, Bradley! I did wait for you! For you, I'd wait forever because I love you, but you didn’t even give me that choice. You made the decision on your own instead of talking to me about it. That was what hurt the most.”  
“I’m sorry.” Bradley said quietly, reaching out to take your hand. His fingers laced through yours almost tentatively, feeling so familiar but so foreign at the same time. There was a point in your life where you never thought that concept would apply to Bradley. “I never should’ve left like that, I wish I could take it all back.” 
“I think I understand now why you did it. I understand that fear that comes with the experience of losing a loved one like that. But Bradley, you’re not responsible for my feelings. And I don’t care how scared you get, I’m not going anywhere. From now on, we work things out together, no matter what you think is best.” 
“From now on? Does that mean…?” 
“You’re my home, Bradley Bradshaw.”
Bradley took your face in his hands and he kissed you, long and hard, pouring every ounce of pent up feelings he’d been bottling up for the past seven months into it. Pain, fear, love, hope—all of it. You were never one to believe in such emotion being able to convey itself through a simple physical action, but now you could honestly say you understood it. 
Your hands spread across the broadness of his back, fingers pressing into the crisp starch of his uniform like you were afraid of letting him go , even though he was home and everything was okay now. Losing him the first time made you angry. You didn’t even want to imagine possibly losing him a second time. 
He drew back, only far enough to press his lips to your forehead, hands still holding you close as could be. “Thank you for coming.”
“I don’t make a habit of breaking my promises.” 
“C’mon, I wanna introduce you to the squad.” He said softly, lacing his fingers through yours. The way he all but bounded over to the group of aviators a little ways away was almost boyish, as was the excitement in his voice when he approached them. “Hey everyone, there’s someone I want you to meet.” Bradley announced, sliding a hand around to the small of your back. 
Everyone’s eyes turned on you, conversations petering to a gradual stop as they looked between you and Bradley. You shifted nervously, suddenly feeling unsure with all the attention on you, but Bradley’s thumb rubbed along your skin, soothing you just a bit. “This is Y/N. My girlfriend.” 
The tall blond reacted the quickest, snapping loudly before aiming a finger in your direction, along with a shiny smile. “Wait, I know you! You’re the one in that photo Rooster keeps tucked in his helmet. Lemme tell you, he looked at that picture every damn day, it was like—” 
Bradley let out a very forced laugh, aiming a not-so-subtle daggered glare at the other man. “Okay, Hangman! That’s okay, I really don’t think—” 
“You’re a real saint, taking this one back. If I ever pulled the shit he did, my car would’ve been keyed to all hell when I came home.” Hangman chuckled, giving his head a shake. 
“Hangman. Shut. Up.” 
“Don’t tell me to shut up, you shut up!” 
“You’re the only one talking!” 
“Alright, alright, you’re both grown men here,” The dark haired woman sighed, turning towards you. “At least, I hope so.” 
You chuckled at that, casting a glance over at Bradley to find him already looking back at you, the back and forth with Hangman already long forgotten given the way he was smiling at you, like you were the force that made the world go round. Taking you in under his arm, he dotted a kiss to your hairline as your fingers came up to intertwine with his again, watching you interact with his squad like you’d known them for years. 
It was everything he ever wanted. And now that he had it, he’d never be dumb enough to let it go again. 
His mind drifted back to his parents’ fate— how they never got to live out their life together. How there was no guarantee about anything when it came to Bradley’s own fate with you.
And sure, it was scary to be so uncertain about the future, but you’d both climb that hill together when the time came. For now, Bradley could let himself be content. This second chance at a life with you wasn’t one he was planning on taking lightly, not by a long shot. 
“Let’s get off this damn carrier and hit the town! Drinks at the Hard Deck, last one there buys the first round!” Hangman’s drawling voice drew Bradley out of his thoughts, just in time to let the words sink in.
You, on the other hand, stifled a giggle at the sight of seeing a group of full grown adults scatter as fast as Bradley’s friends did. Watching Hangman nearly shove Coyote to the ground upon seeing their cars were parked next to each other was something you’d never not get a kick out of. 
But Bradley, he didn’t seem as worried about it all. In fact, he walked leisurely with your hand firmly in his, swinging both of them between the two of you as you made your way to your own car. 
“Aren’t you worried you’ll be the last one there?” 
“I’ll buy the round, I don’t care.” He shrugged. “I wanna spend some time with my girl.” 
“Your girl.” You hummed, giving his hand a squeeze. “Gotta say, I’ve missed hearing that.” 
“I’ve missed saying it. We’ve got a lot to catch up on, honey. Starting with, do you or do you not have a voodoo doll made in my image that you stabbed with pins when I was away because I broke your heart?” 
You scoffed, letting out a not so attractive snort. “Bradley, I mean this in the most respectful way possible—what the hell are you talking about? Where would you even get that idea?”
“I—uh, I had a dream about it? A few weeks into deployment.” He admitted sheepishly, cheeks burning red in embarrassment. You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh. “You don’t, right?” 
“Don’t be ridiculous.” You replied, giving his chest a firm pat. You didn’t have a voodoo doll of him, of course, but playing along was worth it just to see Bradley squirm. 
“Wait, wait, wait, but you didn’t say no.” 
“I didn’t.” 
“So you do?” 
“I didn’t say that either. But if you’re not sure, I’d watch yourself the next couple weeks.” 
His brows furrowed in confusion and a bit of fear as he watched you walk away from him with some bounce to your step. “I…really don’t like the sound of that. Hang on, get back here. Explain, please!” 
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logansbaby · 4 days ago
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sorry but thinking about this scene and how fucking hot he looks. the way i fight the urge to lick my screen anytime i see boxer logan! i need to be locked up bc!!!! i need him so BADLY oh my god.
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scapegods · 2 days ago
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Yeehaw Byler 🪑
my piece for @bylerbigbang w/ @willelworld
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stellewriites · 14 days ago
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PART ONE
summary: by chance you and your emotionally unavailable husband meet a friendly couple that invite you stay at their farmhouse in scotland. however the time spent there with johnny & kyle has you questioning if there's a dark side to them you didn't see before.
a speak no evil au - masterlist
notes: manipulative johnny & kyle, piv, noncon, somno, never explicitly acknowledged abusive relationship between reader and her husband (financial, physical, emotional, coercive control), drinking, murder, it's dead dove horror people!! heed the warnings
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you picked at the buttery croissant on the plate in front of you, trying your best to block out the sound of your husband’s voice as it grew more frustrated by the minute. you pitied the poor soul he was berating on the other end of the line, but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel bad enough to try and stop him, to turn his ire against you instead.
he wouldn’t listen to you anyway, hadn’t the first few times you’d asked when you’d first arrived on your honeymoon.
you scoffed quietly and shoved a bite into your mouth, chewing obstinately. two years late, but sure. your honeymoon.
elliot sighed heavily, and threw his phone down onto the table, rattling your coffee and gaining the attention of nearby hotel staff. “i work with fucking idiots, christ. how hard is it to follow instructions?”
“it’s why they keep you around, smartest one on your team,” you said appeasingly, the same rote answer you always gave him when he got in his moods.
“smartest one at the whole fucking firm more like,” he scoffed. you cringed at the scornful looks sent your way from the other couples on the retreat. “useless. the lot of them.”
the french riviera had been a dream destination for you for years, one elliot had known about from early in your dating days. the holiday he’d booked was all inclusive; tailored to honeymooners specifically with romantic activities on and off site and transport easily accessible in order to explore the area.
you felt as though you should’ve been having the time of your life as you sat eating breakfast looking over the beautiful beach view, but you’d never felt emptier. the sight of happy couples around you day after day had only highlighted your husband’s distance.
elliot had promised this trip would change things for you both, for your relationship, but the last six days had proven the opposite. if he wasn’t busy and distracted on his phone, elliot was complaining about the quality of the food, the amenities, even the bloody people.
it was too much and just the morning before you’d been tempted to ask him to cut the fortnight away short when he’d gotten an urgent email and then a frantic call from his boss.
you’d sighed in relief when he’d left you to wander the local area by yourself for the day; happy to escape his negativity for an hour even as you felt guilty for thinking so. you knew he worked hard, you knew his job was important, and his work meant you could afford your luxury apartment in London and be able to take trips like this one without stressing over the cost.
you’d taken the time to go to the market you’d read about on the plane, the place des lices, and tried every free sample of cheese that had been waved your way once you’d gotten there. but you hadn’t been the only one from your hotel to take advantage of the famous food stalls as you recognised the deep scottish brogue of one half of the couple that were staying in the room next to yours; it rose even above the busy hum of french chatter easily.
you’d turned your head and smiled when you caught his pretty husband’s eyes before turning back to the stall merchant and buying a chunk of fresh camembert for elliot to try. you’d been eyeing up the fruit stall further down and were debating the brie too if you spotted some good cranberry jam.
“you’re from the hotel, right?” you suddenly heard from your left. you turned to find the couple a lot closer than before, apparently taking your polite smile as invitation to join you. “i’ve seen you at the pool before. I’m kyle, this is my husband, johnny.”
“nice t’meet ye.”
you’d introduced yourself and shook their hands once your cheese was carefully packed into your tote bag.
“where’s yer chatty husband?” johnny asked, eyes scanning the crowd.
you flushed, a creeping sense of embarrassment rising as you thought of elliot back at the hotel shooing you off before you’d even sat for breakfast.
“oh he had some emergency at work he had to deal with,” you excused. “didn’t need me hanging around distracting him, so i went for a walk.”
“you’re on your own?” kyle asked with a concerned frown.
“yeah, but i don’t mind. i travelled alone a lot before we were together. i’m used to my own company,” you said with a soft laugh.
the pair swapped a silent look before focusing back on you. “well, we’d be happy to have ye if you’re feeling lonely, bonnie,” johnny offered. “we were thinkin’ of goin’ wine tasting after this now that we’ve got our snacks, if you’d like to join.”
you chuckled as johnny raised their bag and wiggled his eyebrows.
“i wouldn’t want to intrude.” you shook your head.
“it beats heading back to the hotel,” kyle cajoled. “unless you had other plans?”
you pursed your lips before letting a small, shy smile grow. “ok. wine tasting sounds fun.”
you had spent the afternoon laughing and eating the cheese, bread and fruits you’d bought at the market over glasses of wine with johnny and kyle, a wide smile never leaving your lips even as the three of you stumbled back up the steps to the hotel.
your phone had stayed silent the entire day and it wasn’t until you were waving goodbye to your new friends and opening the door to your hotel room that you wondered if elliot would be annoyed at you for staying out so long without contacting him.
you smiled a little shakily as you caught him leaving the bathroom with a towel slung around his hips. “good day?”
“fixed their mess if that’s what you mean,” elliot huffed, but he turned to you with a satisfied smile and nodded. he dipped his head down and kissed you sweetly. “what about you? good day?”
“mhm,” you hummed, your smile settling more firmly on your face at his easy mood. “i went wine tasting.”
“oh?” elliot grinned, looking at you a little closer and taking in the signs of your slight inebriation, the way you swayed slightly on your feet and the almost sleepy glaze over your eyes.
“met a few new friends,” you said. “johnny and kyle.”
elliot stiffened for a moment before smiling again, less genuine and with a sharper edge this time. “oh? that’s nice. i’ll be free to spend the day doing whatever you’d like tomorrow, darling. no need for friends on our honeymoon.”
“you will?” you asked as you started to undress, surprised he wasn’t asking for an extra day to check everything with work had settled. you didn’t look the gift horse in the mouth however. “there’s a great market i saw today we could go to. i wouldn’t mind going twice, the cheese is amazing—“
“sure, sure. fine. let’s just sleep now, yeah? i’m exhausted after today,” elliot interrupted as he dried himself off before climbing into bed.
“of course, yeah. we can figure it out over breakfast.”
which brought you back to now, with your croissant and your husband and your beach view and the ever growing pit of disappointment.
you skimmed your eyes over the other couples sat on the veranda with you and felt jealousy bubble and spit in your stomach. it was the small things you longed for, the easy affection you craved; legs hooked together under the table, feeding each other, shy smiles shared behind mugs, little jokes whispered on the breeze.
you felt tears prickle at your eyes unexpectedly and wiped at them hastily before elliot could notice.
“bonnie?” your head whipped up at the familiar voice and you smiled automatically at johnny and kyle as they made their way over. johnny was in a pair of shorts, and you saw a knee brace peek out from the hem.
“mind if we join you?” kyle asked, already pulling out a chair at your eager nod, ignoring the deep frown on elliot’s face.
“and you are?” elliot asked rudely, looking between the two men.
“this is johnny and kyle, the couple i told you about last night.” you laid a gentle hand on elliot’s forearm.
“oh, the wine tasters. right.”
“heard you were busy saving yer boss’ arse yesterday,” johnny said with a pinched smile. “yer bonnie wife didnae mention what ye did though?”
“i work for a powerful man looking after his money,” elliot explained vaguely, with an air of condescension.
you noticed kyle wave over a waitress and quietly order for both him and johnny, his palm settled firmly on johnny’s thigh beneath the table.
“oh aye? tha’s a lotta responsibility then. no wonder yer always looking so stressed on yer phone,” johnny laughed.
“oi, be nice, john,” kyle scolded, but the smile teasing the corner of his lips took away any bite the reprimand held.
“sorry, uh, emmet, was it?”
“elliot,” you corrected quickly.
johnny snapped his fingers and nodded. “right, right. sorry, my memory’s not what it used to be.” he waved at a rough scar at the side of his head.
“so how long have you two been together?” kyle asked as their drinks arrived. you saw elliot sniff at the vast amount of sugar kyle poured into his tea.
“five years,” you answered at the same time elliot answered, four years. you turned to him with a frown. “we’ve been married for two. we met before your promotion, remember?”
“are you sure, darling?” elliot asked.
“yes, elliot. i’m sure.”
kyle and johnny watched silently, eyebrows raised until you turned back to your croissant with a tense jaw.
“time flies ‘n all that,” johnny said, hoping to ease your tension.
“right.” you nodded. “what about you guys? been together long?”
“been stuck with him for a decade now,” kyle huffed, patting his hand on johnny’s leg.
“been blessed by me, more like, cheeky sod,” johnny muttered.
you laughed as kyle leant in to kiss his cheek obnoxiously. “met in the forces, just clicked.”
“been together ever since i caught him starin’ in the showers,” johnny boasted with a grin.
elliot shifted uncomfortably in his chair and johnny’s grin dropped minisculely and his eyes hardened.
“what’re yer plans today then, bonnie?”
“oh, uhm, we’re not quite sure yet,” you said looking to elliot. “maybe the market since elliot missed it yesterday?”
“you should join us on our cruise along the coast,” kyle said. “just us and the captain, and a fair bit of booze; views are meant to be unmissable.”
“sounds better than a market,” elliot chuffed before shrugging. “sure, why not?”
“really?” you were more than surprised elliot was willingly agreeing to spend more time with kyle and johnny given how on edge he’d been just sat with them the last ten minutes.
“what d’ye say, bon?” johnny leant over the small table with a smile, taking up enough space for you to feel surprisingly cornered.
“pretty hard to say no to ‘unmissable’,” you said and forced a laugh.
“great,” kyle said and johnny slumped back into his seat, throwing an arm around the back of kyle chair. “we’ve got an hour before we’re meant to be there so eat up, love.”
elliot bristled at their familiarity with you and wrapped his own arm around the back of your chair, his hand curling around your shoulder and squeezing just a tad too tight. “she’s already eaten.”
“what, that little pastry?” johnny laughed. “you’ll need yer energy for what we’ve got planned, hen.” johnny winked.
you felt yourself flush involuntarily, your heart thumped and your eyes widened at the accidental insinuation and you knew elliot had heard it the same way going by the agitated tap of his leg beneath the table.
“i’ll probably just have another coffee,” you said placating, and smiled thinly when elliot kissed your temple. “i can grab something for on the boat or afterwards maybe.”
“that’s my girl,” elliot spoke into your hair.
---
while kyle and johnny finished up their breakfast, you nipped back into your room to change into your swimwear underneath your dress and met them along with elliot at the steps leading down to the beach.
once you’d left the dock and were deep enough in the water that it became a mesmerising dark blue, it didn’t take much convincing to have you jump in the water with johnny as the boat idled in place. elliot had waved you off with a dismissive glance at his phone when you asked if he’d join and kyle had promised to have the towels ready when you’d both ran out of energy.
“not joining them?” elliot asked, sparing a quick glance at kyle as he sat down next to your husband.
“figured i’d keep you company ‘til johnny climbs back on board. we’re temporary neighbours after all, yeah?” kyle said. he looked over the side of the boat and shook his head at his husband splashing you despite your giggly squeals of outrage. “married for two years?” he asked out of the blue and waited for elliot to hum his agreement. “what you doing on a honeymoon trip then, if you don’t mind me asking?”
elliot sighed frustratedly as he locked his phone and put it down beside him, knowing he was going to get nothing done with kyle yammering by his side. “we’re busy people, only just found the time together to go.”
kyle raised his eyebrows in shock. “busy indeed.” he looked to elliot’s phone. “got any photos of the wedding?”
elliot nodded once, and not enthusiastically enough for kyle’s liking, as he pulled up the photo folder you’d made on his phone titled ‘happily ever after 🩷’ before handing it to kyle to flip through.
the younger man whistled lowly, eyes glued to the screen as he pinched and moved the photos to zoom in. elliot noticed how he paused on the photos of you, but flicked through the others quickly, not bothering to stop quick enough to take in your bridesmaids’ dresses or the expensive tiered cake or elliot’s flash suit.
he snatched his phone back when kyle licked his lips at a photo of you dancing with your friends.
“lovely gown,” kyle said with a smirk as he watched elliot seethe. “you really got lucky, eh? punching up like that.”
elliot’s eyes squinted in a glare. “excuse me?”
“come on, mate. you can be honest, it’s why you worry about the job, right? you want to keep that going for you so she doesn’t leave you in the dust,” kyle continued to goad him.
“it’s not me that needs to worry about being left behind,” elliot spat. he rubbed his hand over his mouth and jaw to hide his burgeoning smug look, but kyle saw it in his eyes, the self-satisfaction. “i’ve got options. plenty at that.”
kyle stared at him with a blank face. “oh yeah?”
elliot laughed meanly and dropped his hand. “oh yeah.” he tapped his phone against his palm for a moment, seemingly debating something before freezing as he heard you and johnny climb the short ladder back up to the deck, laughing all the while.
“done in already?” kyle asked, his mood already lighter.
“johnny’s knee is aching, thought he could rest it and we’d get a quick drink,” you answered with a wide smile, reaching for one of the beers stored in the boats built-in cooler and handing one to johnny.
“bonnie was jus’ telling me how she used to live in a much smaller area when she was younger,” johnny said as you both sat down opposite to your partners. “but you live in london now?”
“what is it with you two? always asking bloody questions,” elliot complained, hiding his unease behind a laugh.
“just making conversation, mate,” kyle said tersely.
you felt the air grow awkward and jumped in before your husband could make it worse.
“we moved to london for elliot’s work,” you said.
“and you like it?” kyle’s inquisitive, dark eyes had you willing to be more truthful than you would usually be, especially with near strangers.
“i have to admit… i’d always thought we’d be somewhere further from the city; its what i’d always wanted and elliot said he’d liked the idea of somewhere quieter. we met in my home town after all.” you caught elliot’s scornful eye and ducked your head. “but it just didn’t go that way in the end. and london is lovely, the apartment is— lovely.”
“you ever been to scotland?” johnny asked. “the countryside is like nothin’ you’ve ever seen up there.”
kyle nodded. “we’ve lived on the edge of falkland for a few years now; feels like the middle of nowhere sometimes. doesn’t get much better, i haven’t missed the city for years.”
“one of the best decisions we ever made,” johnny agreed, leaning over to kiss gaz softly.
you sighed wistfully.
“don’t think the hills would agree with my dear wife, but maybe we’ll take a trip up there some time,” elliot said unconvincingly. you swallowed thickly at his thinly veiled dig.
“when you’re not so busy, yeah?” kyle said staring your husband down.
elliot’s lips thinned. “yeah.”
“so how’re you finding france so far?” johnny asked. “enjoying yer stay?”
elliot sniffed. “could be better. from how this one went on about the place i was expecting a hell of a lot more,” he said snidely, gesturing to you flippantly. “i’d have picked bali personally.”
your shoulders hunched even as you felt indignation and anger burn the back of your throat. it wasn’t your fault elliot wasn’t taking advantage of the holiday, the lush area and the activities that promised to be unforgettable if given the chance. you knew you’d remember going in the sea with johnny for years to come, but you doubted you’d remember the boring dinners you’d been having with elliot in a month’s time, or at least not so fondly.
“think i’d have put the trip off for longer if i knew what this place was going to be like,” elliot laughed. “in fact—“
“why don’t you shut the fuck up fer once and let yer pretty wife speak, eh?” johnny cut him off with a sarcastic smile.
elliot was shocked into silence and you found yourself stuttering as kyle and johnny focused on you.
“what do you do when you’re not on a late honeymoon, love?” kyle asked.
“uhm, i don’t actually work currently,” you admitted sheepishly, your eyes darted to your husband as he grew redder in the face. “elliot makes enough to cover us financially and finding something in london was harder than expected after i had to suddenly quit my previous job when we moved.”
kyle and johnny cooed sympathetically.
“i’ve picked up painting recently though, which has been different. not necessarily any good at it, but i like it,” you said.
“an artist? yer after my heart, hen. i sketch a little myself,” johnny said. “now ye’ll have to come visit us just so you can paint the views.”
kyle was quick to pull out his phone to share some photos. he stopped on one of johnny on the top of a steep, grassy hill; his arms thrown up the air, backpack on the ground next to him and a wide grin stretched across his face, his mohawk a little longer than it was now and a mess in the wind.
“wow, it’s gorgeous there,” you gushed, trying not to focus on johnny’s strong stance highlighted by the rising sun behind him.
“that’s the view just behind our house,” kyle grinned. “forty minute hike to get there, at most.”
you gawped. “no way.”
johnny nodded.
“think you’re maybe overestimating her painting skills there, boys,” elliot snickered as he looked at the photo. “if you saw what she’s done so far you’d realise it’s definitely just a new hobby.”
“show us,” kyle suggested kindly, not bothering to look at elliot.
you hesitated before reaching for your bag and pulling out your phone. you handed it over with a shy smile.
“oi, these are good, bonnie,” johnny said immediately, stood looking over kyle’s shoulder. his brow was pulled into a frown as he concentrated.
“i’d buy ‘em,” kyle added, looking up at you to smile.
“ha! right, yeah,” you laughed, thinking he was teasing. you put down your beer and took your phone back, dropping it into your bag. you leant in to kiss elliot’s cheek and stood. “who’s going to join me in the water? elliot?”
“i don’t think so, darling. maybe another time,” he said.
“i will.” kyle stood. “did johnny show you how to dive off the front?”
your eyes widened in excitement as you shook your head and followed him, waving at the captain sat at the helm of the small boat as you passed.
johnny watched the pair of you go before turning to glare at elliot silently, not breaking eye contact even as your husband frowned and shifted uneasily, eventually looking down at his phone to avoid johnny’s unwavering, cold gaze.
---
“i don’t like them,” elliot said once you were back in your hotel that evening.
“who? johnny and kyle?”
“who else?” elliot scoffed. “they’re too familiar with you, they— they fawn over you. flirt relentlessly, in front of me—“
“oh come on,” you laughed, unable to stop yourself even as elliot grew angrier at your casual dismissal. “they’re married, don’t be bloody daft.”
“don’t call me stupid.” elliot warned.
“i’m not, i just—“
“whether they’re actually interested in you or not isn’t the point,” elliot seethed. “they’re doing it to wind me up. to get away with humiliating me and you encourage them.”
“i— what? we were just having fun,” you said.
“oh i know, i saw how you clung to them in the water when you thought i wasn’t looking. fucking slut.”
you gaped at elliot, taken aback by his harsh words and sharp tone. you took in a deep breath and tried to level your own voice.
“they’re just friendly.” you bit your cheek. “if anything, you’re just jealous i’m getting more attention than you for once.”
“what was that?” elliot whipped around to face you and you felt your blood run cold even before he took a step towards you. he gripped you roughly by the back of your neck and tugged you forward so his lips rested at your temple and you followed limply, keeping your hands by your sides. “you better not play up tomorrow, darling. whatever they offer, we’re busy. this our honeymoon, not a fucking jolly for you to try and meet other men.”
you seethed in his hold, furious at his accusations and the irony of his ill-placed jealousy. but all the same you nodded gently. “ok, elliot.”
“good.” he kissed your round cheek with a loud, sarcastic smack before turning towards the bathroom. he shed his clothes as he walked, leaving them in a trail you knew he expected you to pick up and closed the door behind him, leaving you stood motionless in the centre of the hotel room.
---
you dodged johnny’s bright grin and kyle’s sweet invites to hang out over the last week of your holiday with a pained grimace.
after the first few mornings of suddenly stilted conversation over breakfast, they stopped joining you and elliot and you were happy they were able to continue enjoying their honeymoon even if you weren’t.
elliot didn’t say in so many words, but he didn’t trust you not to gallivant off if left alone like before, so you were stuck waiting in the admittedly lavish hotel room on the days elliot got pulled back into work over the phone and on his laptop. too important to leave until later, he’d said. but he’d promised each time to take you out for a dinner that had continued to be forgotten about.
with only a few days left you were stuck waiting by the road, the little moped you’d rented for the day parked and so far unused while elliot nipped back up to the hotel to grab his sunglasses. it’d been twenty minutes already and part of you wondered if he’d gotten lost. you wished he’d left the keys with you instead of pocketing them so you could keep yourself entertained with a quick ride around the block, get used to the feel of the bike before joining onto the main road.
a squeaky horn, two beeps in quick succession, had you flinching from your moody thoughts and looking up as kyle and johnny pulled to a stop in front of you.
“long time no see, love,” kyle said. he nodded down at the bike with a grin. “where you off to?”
“and can we join?” johnny asked with a waggle of his eyebrows.
you snorted. “nowhere. not until elliot comes back at least.” you shrugged. “he’s got the keys,” you explained.
“how about we take you for a quick ride then,” johnny offered and kyle immediately started getting off from behind him.
“no, no i couldn’t. thank you. elliot will be back any second, im sure,” you said quickly, worried elliot would grow mad if he saw you sat behind johnny on the bike.
“ok, love,” kyle placated. “how about we swap numbers then, in case we don’t get to see you before your trip is up? i want to see more of your paintings.”
“we’re off home in about two days or so, figured yours would be about the same,” johnny said.
“what about email?” you suggested instead. your couples therapist had suggested regularly reading each others texts to try and gain back trust between the pair of you. the irony that it was now you trying to hide a conversation in your phone wasn’t lost on you, but you knew elliot wouldn’t want you talking to them after this trip. “i can get pretty chatty in a text, so email might be better,” you lied flimsily.
“sure,” johnny nodded along, clearly not believing you. “whatever you’d like.”
“you can have john’s email,” kyle said with a smirk, the expression growing when the scot sighed and swatted at kyle’s thigh behind him.
you watched them with confused amusement until johnny read out his email.
“wow. that’s very myspace of you,” you laughed even as johnny rolled his eyes.
“soap’s an old nickname, you’ll probably hear me call him gaz sometimes too. old habits,” johnny explained.
“from the military?” you confirmed and they nodded.
“i say it when i want him to listen. gets him standing to attention when i call him soap,” kyle said teased.
“anything you do gets me standing to attention, handsome,” johnny said, sultry and playful.
“oh piss off,” kyle laughed as he pushed johnny’s face away, pretending to groan in disgust when johnny caught his wrist and messily kissed his palm. you felt your stomach clench at the brief sight of his tongue poking between kyle’s fingers, lapping at the webbing before he let him go.
his tongue there and gone again in a second. you’d almost think you’d imagined it if you didn’t see the spit glisten in the sun before kyle wiped it on his shorts.
you blinked to clear your head and turned away even as the thought of johnny’s mouth around kyle’s fingers replayed over and over in your head.
turning away meant you caught sight of elliot making his way back. it had your thoughts sobering and you looked back to the couple with an apologetic smile. “i’ll see you guys later hopefully, but if not i hope you enjoy the rest of your honeymoon guys.”
“ye trying to get rid o’ us?” johnny pouted, mischief clear in his eyes.
“no, but I know elliot will want to set off straight away so—“
“we know when we’re not wanted, love,” kyle sighed, winking at you to soften the words and let you know they weren’t offended, just pulling your pigtails. “take a hint, johnny, let’s go check out the beach.”
“aye aye, sir,” johnny saluted lazily before revving the moped back to life and waving at you over his shoulder.
“ready to go?” you jumped slightly at elliot’s voice behind you, you hadn’t realised he was so close already and when you turned around you could see he was tense.
“ready when you are,” you said and moved out of the way of the bike.
elliot didn’t mention johnny or kyle and you were thankful; the day had barely begun, you didn’t need an argument to ruin it already.
you swung your leg over the bike behind him and cuddled close, smiling when elliot rubbed a warm palm over your bare knee next to his thigh. today could be good if you just let it, you reminded yourself as elliot set off clumsily.
you lifted your head from his back once he’d managed to get the hang of controlling the moped a little better, becoming confident on the roads after a few minutes, but you wished you hadn’t.
his collar was rustling in the wind and had slipped loose around his shoulder, revealing a smudged lipstick mark previously hidden by his button up overshirt. you felt your breath hitch, unable to look away even as your eyes started to burn.
your gut clenched and rolled unpleasantly, like you could throw up any moment but your jaw was firmly clenched closed. your hands shook where they were holding elliot at the waist and you finally clenched your eyes closed.
with trembling lips, you held back a sob.
today could be good if you let it, you repeated. so let it.
---
you didn’t see kyle or johnny before you left and you didn’t mention what you saw to elliot either.
instead you went back to london, to the dreary rain and the empty flat and the weekly couples’ appointments.
you lied when your therapist asked how your honeymoon went. you grinned and turned to elliot with wide sparkling eyes and reach for his hand to hold between yours as you simpered, “simply perfect.”
but it wasn’t and elliot new it.
the breaking point was when johnny sent your throw-away email account a message one afternoon with a photo attached at the bottom. you grinned when it loaded on your laptop and you zoomed in to see your smiling face, then kyle’s, then johnnys.
it had been taken on the boat on your way back to the dock after a long day swimming and drinking and laughing. elliot had kept to himself for most of the trip unless spoken to, but after an hour you’d managed to ignore him well enough. it wasn’t until kyle pulled him up on your way back, slapped his phone into elliot’s hand and asked him to take a photo of the three of you with the water and island in the background that you remembered he was there.
“elliot, be a good lad and take the photo for us won’t ya?”
“why not ask the captain—“
“he’s done enough dealing with us fer the day, aye? oh— wait, did ye want tae be in it with us?”
“no. thank you.”
they’d thrown their arms around you, pushing and pulling you to their liking until you were stood by the edge of the boat, and smiled. your shoulders were sensitive where johnny’s arm laid over the top - sunburnt you thought at the time - and your hair was still wet from your last dip, but your smile was wide and glowing even as elliot had gritted his teeth.
despite his grumbles he’d done as asked and you’d been dying to see the photo ever since when johnny cooed, “aw, lovely photo to remember ya by.”
now you felt your cheeks heat as you saw how your swim shorts had rucked up high on your thighs, damp and clinging, showing off more skin than you’d realised. your swimsuit at least covered your stomach and cleavage well enough, though johnny’s hand on your shoulder held one of the thick strings of your suit where it had tied at the back of your neck. he was in the middle of playing with it, tugging it so it was taut but not enough to loosen the bow. you don’t remember feeling him pull at the string holding your suit up over your breasts, though you were distracted by the tight hold gaz had on your waist, the handful he’d grabbed as he knocked your hips together.
god no wonder elliot had gotten mad that evening. if you hadn’t known the two were married, you’d have assumed they were trying to get between your legs by this photo alone.
you read the message johnny had sent along with it.
missin you and yer sweet laugh, bonnie!
forgot to send the photo earlier, i think the three of us look well fit, we’ll have to go swimming gain sometime. gaz suggested leucate plage if yer still in love wih france, but im sure there’s a few different au naturel beaches we could try ;)
you sputtered a laugh at that, scoffing at the idea of going to a nude beach especially with those two. bloody hell, elliot would have a fit, you thought gleefully.
but for now we thought you could come visit us like we’d said before? the countryside could be good for you and the ol’ ball n chain. we’d be happy t have ye both for the week, we’ve got the room. just let us know, yeah?
yer handsome pal,
johnny
you shook your head at his theatrics. emailing johnny felt like having a slightly unhinged penpal and reading his emails never failed to brighten up your day, you could hear him in the way he typed. you also loved when you assumed gaz would steal the phone to use his account to talk to you, the lack of scots and shorthand was always a dead giveaway between the two.
you bit your lip and found some of the photos he’d sent previously of their home and garden. it was gorgeous simply put and although the anxiety of admitting to elliot that you’d kept in contact with them had your palms sweating, the deep urge to go visit them ultimately won out.
you bit the bullet over dinner that same night. steak, specially made to soften elliot’s mood.
not that it helped much.
“what?” he dropped his cutlery and pushed back from his seat, needing distance from you as he processed you’d been lying to him. “why would you do that?”
you didn’t have an answer. or not one that elliot would like, so you felt yourself begin to shrug before you thought back to your last session.
“our therapist said it could be good for the relationship if i made some friends separate to yours,” you said.
“she also said you needed to focus trying more with my friends,” elliot reminded.
“but your friends aren’t offering to stay with us for a week in the highlands, elliot. if they were then i’d be all for it!”
“so if i tell my friends that we’ll spend christmas at the ski lodge with them this year, you won’t whine about wanting to be at home together, this time,” he challenged.
you swallowed. he knew you hated skiing and his bitchy judgmental rich friends. it wasn’t even as though it was his easy going friends that liked to go, it was the worst of the bunch that purposely left you out or talked down to you, made it impossible to try without embarrassing yourself.
but fine. you could deal with that this year if it meant your friendship with kyle and johnny was allowed to grow.
“sure,” you said with an obviously fake casual shrug. “so we can go?”
elliot huffed. you sprung out your next argument.
“our therapist also said it was important to let me take the lead a few times. in order to let me regai—“
“regain some power in the relationship, yeah, i know. i was there.” elliot nodded. he seemed to think it over. “this will help you trust me again?”
you reached across the table and held his hand, smiling at him hopefully when he looked back at you. you tried not to think of the lipstick stain in france, tried not to let the hurt cloud you eyes. “yes.” you stood and walked to stand by his chair, chest warming when he wrapped an arm around your waist. “the honeymoon felt forced,” you admitted, making sure to keep eye contact even as he stiffened. “we both felt it, you can admit it, i’m not mad. but this would be new and an adventure. like old times, elliot.”
he nodded a little less resignedly. “sure, old times. ok.”
you smiled, dipped down to kiss him deeply, rubbing his clean shaven cheek with your thumb.
“thank you. this will be fun, i promise. we’ll get to relax and just spend some time together, yeah? no pressure of what we should be doing as a couple or at work or— or—“
elliot softened as he looked at you stutter to find another reason. “yes, darling. it’ll be good.”
you stepped out of his grasp.
“i’ll let them know we can go, what date do you think would be best?”
---
“fucking hell, you had one job. look out for the stupid carved owl in the tree and that’s when we know to turn left,” elliot seethed as he drove, the sun growing dimmer by the minute. you’d spent the entire day driving up north using the directions, had set off that saturday morning in hopes that the traffic wouldn’t be as busy as midweek. “so where are we now? you insisted on following their directions instead of using the satnav, so where the hell does it mention this endless fucking shitty, unpaved road? eh?”
you hunched down in your seat next to him and reread the instructions from soap, hoping to find a clue as to where you were on the, admittedly adorable yet detailed, map he’d drawn. you’d found it endearing when you’d first saw it but now you were thinking it was more of a necessity.
elliot snatched your phone from your hand and split his focus between the dark road and your phone, scrolling erratically to find the directions in the email he wanted. your hand hovered between you, eager to take your phone back but hesitant to foul his mood further.
your eyes caught on movement on the road and you quickly gripped the wheel to swerve and avoid hitting a deer that had wandered out from the trees. “fuck, elliot, watch out!”
he slammed on the breaks and dropped your phone into your footwell as he automatically gripped the wheel to take over from you.
you both sat still, panting; anxiety and adrenaline pumping through your body as you tried to tell it and brain that you were fine, it could calm down, you were ok. you rubbed at your shoulder where your seatbelt had dug in.
elliot started up the car again, silent, and went slower down the road until the headlights caught on a misshapen tree. you squinted before pointing it out. “here, look. i think that’s the owl, go left.”
it only took a few minutes before you could see the lights from kyle and johnny’s farmhouse. the shape of their barn and surrounding smaller outbuildings stark against the natural curves of the hills and trees they were settled amongst.
“we’re here,” you said excitedly. “they said to pull around the side of the barn to the garage they have at the side. their house should be riiight there.” you grinned as you parked directly in front of it on the gravel next to their truck.
“great,” elliot said sarcastically. you didn’t mention his tone knowing that having to drive all day, several hours longer than you’d both expected, would have rankled anyone’s mood.
you climbed out without a word and got your bags out of the back of the car. when you rounded back to the front you found johnny and kyle walking to meet you already, their front door left open behind them.
“bonnie! ye made it,” johnny said as he jogged over to you excitedly. you let go of your suitcase as he pulled you into a hug as soon as you were close enough, scuffing his stubble against your neck in his excitement.
“down, boy,” kyle laughed, nudging johnny out of the way to give you his own hug. once he pulled back he nodded to elliot and smirked. “thought you’d maybe gotten lost, we were ready to start a search party.”
elliot bristled but johnny spoke up before he could defend himself.
“aye, but tea is still warm and ready to be served, an’ ahm fucking starving so let’s get inside yeah?” johnny slapped elliot’s shoulder before leading you all to the house. “done a big roasty fer the pair a’ye, so i hope yer hungry.”
the heat encompassed you as soon as you stepped inside, led through to the kitchen-stroke-dining room. the food smelled divine and the warmth accumulated from the oven and the fireplace had your shoulders relaxing instantly.
the house was far from modern with its mismatched old wooden chairs around the handmade table and the well-loved couch you could spot through in the next room, nothing like your lifeless flat in london. but the farmhouse was still stylish in its own way, in the colour of the cabinets, the throw on couch, the wallpaper leading up the stairs. though more importantly, it was homely. lived in.
“i can imagine the drive wasnae easy for first timers, so sit yerselves down and i’ll plate the food, gaz’ll get the wine,” johnny said.
you pulled out the chair next to elliot, leaving the two opposite you empty.
johnny clapped his hands as if to say voilà when he put down your heaped plates a minute later.
“this looks amazing, johnny, you cooked this?” you asked, eyes round and barely stopping yourself from digging in to be polite.
“have a great sous chef,” he said and patted kyle’s arse when he passed by with the wine. kyle smirked.
“how did you find the drive up, seriously?” kyle asked as he poured your drinks. he took a seat with johnny and gestured for you to start eating; now with permission, you didn’t hesitate.
“it was fine. might’ve been easier if we were given an address instead, satnav might’ve made it quicker,” elliot said as he pushed around some of the steamed vegetables on his plate.
“the views made taking our time worth it though, the valleys we passed were gorgeous,” you gushed. “i didn’t realise there were so many small lakes too.”
elliot sniffed irritably, but you didn’t notice. in fact you’d barely noticed how he played with his food more than ate it as you were too busy chatting and eating. you were going crazy for the hearty roast dinner, you could see in the colour and in the bursting taste of the veg just how fresh it all was; nothing like the store bought stuff you usually got at home.
you hadn’t had anything home cooked in so long that you hadn’t made yourself, and when you told kyle and johnny so they both reared back as though slapped.
“oh love, you’re missing out, that’s not right. don’t worry we’ll take care of you while you’re here,” kyle promised.
elliot cleared his throat. “got any salt?”
johnny’s eyes flickered tersely from elliot to the roast beef he was poking on his plate and back up again. “sure. let me just grab it for ye.”
“cheers,” elliot smiled thinly.
“top up?” kyle asked and gestured to your wine glass. you nodded before turning to elliot, but he wasn’t looking your way so you held your glass out.
“thanks. god, after this and the long drive i think i’ll be ready for bed; sorry excuse for company on the first night,” you apologised.
“we’re just happy to have you here,” kyle assured you as johnny sat back down. your husband doused his food in salt before making a better dent in it, downing his wine quickly afterwards with a wince.
“yeah, i think it’ll be an early one for us tonight, won’t it, darling?” elliot said and started to stand, rudely pushing his unfinished plate away. “in fact, i think i’m pretty tired now.”
you looked down at the last few bites of your meal and the full glass of wine forlornly but stood alongside elliot.
“it really was a fantastic meal, thank you so much, johnny,” you said.
“anytime for you, hen,” he said. “here, let us show you to your room.”
“i’ll grab the dishes while you take them up, johnny. you cooked so i’ll clean,” kyle said, hooking a finger in johnny’s jeans to catch his attention when he stood up. you felt a sharp pang at their easy domesticity. sure they’d said they’d known each other, been together, for a decade, but it still ached that you and elliot where struggling so obviously in comparison despite your sixth anniversary nearing on the horizon.
you gave kyle a fragile smile as you followed johnny upstairs with your bags to your room for the week.
“i’ll leave you to it, see ye in the morning,” johnny said as you settled into your room.
“this is amazing,” you said with a small laugh, disbelief and joy mixing into something like hope as you started to get undressed. the view out of your bedroom looked over the front garden and you felt giddy at the idea of staying with your new friends for the next few days and exploring the area further.
“it’s… quaint,” elliot said.
you turned to him, your mouth pulled tight. “please don’t start.”
“what? it’s just… smaller than what we’re used to,” he said with a shrug, starting to laugh as he gestured at the room. “i mean look at this place, and the bed.”
“keep your voice down at least, elliot,” you hissed, eyes sharp on the closed door of your bedroom.
“darling, you know i get overheated easily, and by the looks of it we’re going to be pressed side by side all night. and i doubt they have a/c,” elliot huffed. he sat down on the bed and rolled his eyes when it squeaked. “oh, come on.”
“we could open the window,” you said stubbornly, ignoring elliot as he shifted to make the bed squeak again.
“and let in the smell of sheep shit? not your brightest idea,” he scoffed. “christ and never mind the bloody noise on top of that. good thing i brought my ear plugs or i’d never get any sleep.”
you bit your tongue when you thought of the constant traffic noises that flooded into your apartment at all times of the day and night, the light pollution that did its best to creep past your blackout curtains.
“i’m sure you’ll get used to it after the first couple of nights,” you said instead and moved to join him in bed. you reached for his hand and squeezed it, leaning in for a kiss, teasing your tongue at his lips for a split second before pulling back. “just… please be nice?”
he sighed.
“fine,” he conceded. “i was just expecting something a little nicer considering the price of the trip we met them on.”
you scowled at him and let go of his hand. “you’re being rude.”
you leant over to turn off your lamp and laid down facing away from him. neither of you noticed the shadows shift under your door, the light footsteps heading away from your room.
---
you woke up the next morning to find elliot already in the shower, you could hear the pipes from the bathroom next door and noticed his suitcase had been half unpacked.
you were grateful he’d let you sleep, you’d gone to bed frustrated and you didn’t want to carry it on this morning. it was a new day and you were eager to have fun.
you walked over to the window and pulled back the curtains. as you gazed out your eyes naturally drifted to johnny, stood near the barn you’d passed on your way in. he was small given the distance but you couldn’t help but stare as he rhythmically chopped logs into smaller, more manageable pieces.
he was sweating, the repetitive action of driving the axe up and then through the thick wood obviously tiring, and you felt water pool in your mouth as you looked on gormlessly.
the sleeves of his thick checked shirt were rolled up his forearms and part of you wished he’d decided to chop the wood in the driveway so you’d have a clearer view of his muscles at work. he wiped his face on his bicep and suddenly turned to the house, to your window.
you ducked away before he could catch you and started to get dressed out of the line of sight the windows may provide. with your face aflame and anxious butterflies rampant in your stomach, you needed to get your head on straight and decidedly not ogle your new friends.
with one last stern word to yourself you headed downstairs back to the kitchen and found gaz pottering around.
“ah morning, love. coffee?” he offered, holding out a cup. you took it gratefully with a small thank you and sat at the table again. there was a plate of toast in the middle, enough slices freshly made made for the four of you, and you reached forward for one. “i was thinking me and soap could show you a hiking trail nearby, make a day of it.”
“the one you showed me on your phone?” you asked, nodding enthusiastically regardless of his answer.
“this one’s even better,” gaz said, smiling fondly. “just might take longer.”
“coffee? thank you, darling,” elliot mumbled as he swiped your coffee from your hands without asking and distracting you from answering gaz. you’d barely had a sip before elliot was finishing the drink off in one go. “mm, bit too milky for my liking,” he told you and sucked his teeth.
“probably because it wasn’t for you,” kyle said flatly. “we’re going on a hike today, care to join or has work called you in already?”
“i’d love a hike,” elliot said brightly. johnny walked in through the front door as elliot continued to talk about the hikes he’d been on before, heading to the sink to wash his hands and leaning up to kiss kyle as he passed. “work can wait for the great outdoors. my wife here knows how much i love going on— on uh, on hikes and finding new trails and mapping them out.” elliot stumbled over his words for a second, taken back by the kiss.
johnny’s shoulders shook with a silent laugh and he turned and winked at you as he opened up a cupboard door that hid his face from your husband.
“oh, so you two go together?” kyle asked.
“no, no,” elliot laughed like the thought was ridiculous. “i go with my mates. not really her thing.”
you pursed your lips; you hated it when elliot answered for you, especially when he was wrong. which was often. instead of fussing though, you focused your ire on another slice of toast from the centre of the table.
“right.” kyle stood from his chair and went to lean next to johnny on one of the kitchen counters. “we’ll pack a bag full of snacks and drinks and then we can be off. give us fifteen minutes?”
you nodded, thankful for the excuse to leave elliot at the table, and went to grab your walking boots before coming back to wait with elliot near the door.
“quicker to get there from the back,” johnny said and led you through the rest of the downstairs out into the back garden.
it looked like it could spread for acres if not for the looming trees of the forest fencing it in.
to the left was their chicken coop and a small locked shed. if you turned around you’d see your cars parked, the garage and then the barn further up.
the chicken coop was on solid muddy ground, closer to the gravel front, whereas the shed was further up on the flat grassy area that began to rise into a small hill further back and closer to the trees; there was a small iron table sat with four chairs closer to the house and you couldn’t wait to use it, imagining sitting out there for lunch or breakfast.
to your right you took in their allotment, the large raised beds full of blooming vegetables; tall beans climbing the trellis arches from one side to another. you saw noticed the glint of a greenhouse hidden behind it all. everything was encouraged to grow to its fullest and you bet the food they’d served the night before had been grown by their very own hands.
“we’ve got strawberries if ye’d like tae pick some over the next few days,” johnny said as he walked you down to the end of the garden, catching the way your eyes were glued to the allotment.
“i’d love that, i haven’t been strawberry picking since i was little,” you said.
johnny nodded. “settled then.”
---
the hike wasn’t difficult, but living down south in a very flat city hadn’t built up your cardio for the steep hills and climbs at all.
“this is a good place to stop for lunch,” johnny said, apropos to nothing.
he squeezed your arm as he wandered off the path towards the edge of the hill. you were halfway there to the top, but already you were loving the views.
“knee bothering you, johnny?” kyle asked as he pulled out a rainproof sheet from his bag and started placing the food out in the tupperware boxes.
“something like that,” he said.
you laughed when you saw johnny pull out a bottle of wine from his.
“just tryin’ tae make use of all the wine we bought on holiday, hen,” he snickered.
you sat down and helped them spread the food out while your husband paced from the ledge to the path and then to the blanket, only to start again.
“have a seat elliot,” you said encouragingly, patting the space you’d left purposely empty next to you.
he slumped down with a huff and kyle side-eyed him.
“how was your night? sleep well?”
“hope the room wasnae too small,” johnny added, biting into a cheese cracker as he looked to your husband.
you felt your stomach drop and your face heat up. “no, not at all—“
“i think i’m just used to the finer things,” elliot said, picking up one of the packed travel cups pointedly and pouring himself some wine.
“we slept fine,” you said firmly as you frowned at elliot. “it’s perfect.”
“ah, we’re just joking around, hen, no need to fash,” johnny teased. “you pack yer paints?”
“shit.” your face dropped as you looked at him. “i completely forgot when i was packing, i was too excited.”
johnny grinned. “you can borrow mine, it’s alright.”
“if they’re not dried up that is,” kyle said with a laugh. “i’ve not seen you touch paints in years, johnny.”
“they’re water paints, gaz, they’re meant tae be dry,” johnny said with a roll of his eyes. he looked to you and covered the side of his mouth. “yer a breath o’fresh air, ye have no idea. i love him but he doesnae have the eye fer it, you know?”
“im right bloody here,” kyle said exasperatedly, making you laugh.
“fucking hell,” your husband muttered under his breath before standing. “i think i’m gonna go ahead and have a look at the trail, get a lay of the land. i’ll turn around in ten and meet you back here.”
“are you sure?” you asked at the same time johnny warned him, “don’t go off the path.”
“why not?” elliot asked, taking it as a challenge despite johnny’s grave tone.
“go straight so you don’t get lost,” johnny repeated seriously. “it’s a tricky place, these woods. one wrong turn and you’ll ne’er be found.”
elliot stayed silent for a moment, left off kilter by johnny’s intense eyes, before laughing, waving him of with a scoff. “sure thing, johnny.”
you watch your husband walk off with an uneasy feeling before kyle and johnny’s easy going nature distracted you once more.
before you knew it it’d been twenty minutes, but you were too busy talking about how they’d ended up moving out so far away from their original shared home, that you hadn’t noticed elliot wasn’t back yet.
“it’s great here, but it can feel… lonely sometimes, just the two of us,” johnny admitted as he looked to kyle. the handsome man nodded and knocked their knees together.
“i know how that feels,” you said, three cups of wine having loosened your lips.
“yeah?” kyle asked softly, tilting his head to meet your downcast eyes.
you opened and closed your mouth a few times before taking a deep breath.
“i want a baby,” you said weakly, sadly. you were quiet as though hoping not to be overheard. “elliot doesn’t think it’s the right time, but im starting to doubt it’d ever be the right time if it were up to him.”
you blink at the anger that had seeped into your last words and gasped as you realised that you’d actually finally said them out loud. not even your therapist had gotten you to admit this.
“oh god, please forget i said that,” you begged them suddenly, wide eyed and pleading. “please. don’t say anything to elliot about it. i— i think i’ve just drank a little too much,” you tried to excuse yourself.
“hey, it’s ok,” johnny said with a concerned frown.
“i didn’t mean it,” you rushed out.
kyle moved to elliot’s previous spot and pulled you in for a warm hug, calming you down.
“it’s normal to want things and to be disappointed when the person that promised you them can’t deliver,” he whispered. you sniffled and slowly wrapped your arms back around him with a nod, tears building behind yojr closed eyelids. you slumped into his hold further when johnny’s large hand rubbed soothingly across your back below kyle’s arms.
it was nice. simply being between them and being comforted by them was nice.
you leaned back and wiped at your eyes with a sniffly laugh.
“thank you, guys, i— thank you.”
gaz squeezed your shoulder for a moment before finally letting you go.
you felt fidgety, needing to do something with your hands and to keep them from staring at your red rimmed eyed, so you reached for a handful of grapes when it suddenly occurred to you that elliot wasn’t back. you looked at your watch and swore.
“elliot’s not here yet, shit what if he’s lost?”
“he won’t be,” johnny reassured you, standing alongside you and grabbing your shoulders. “he’s an experienced hiker, right? he probably lost track a’time like we did.”
“let’s get this packed away and we’ll go catch up to him,” kyle suggested. you nodded, easily calmed once given easy orders to occupy your busy mind
---
“elliot?” you called out as you walked, johnny and kyle on either side of you, looking out into the trees in case he’d gone off track. “you there? elliot?”
“stop shouting, christ, i’m here,” elliot complained further up the trail. he was slouched against a tree. “took you all long enough.”
“oh my god, what happened,” you said as you crouched next to him, looking at the sorry swollen state of his ankle.
“twisted it looks like, worst-case it could be a sprain,” kyle said from over your shoulder. “should be fine, we can get home with him leaning on our shoulders, right, soap?”
johnny tutted in disappointment as he stared down the path instead of at your injured husband.
“the waterfall was only five minutes away as well,” johnny said to no one in particular. he crouched next to elliot. “c’mon then, let’s get you back.”
your husband bristled. he looked longingly down the trail johnny had gestured to just a moment before.
“we should still go, i’ll be fine,” he insisted. “we should go to the waterfall.”
gaz raised his eyebrows incredulously as he helped elliot stand, but he stayed silent.
“you want to lean on me or johnny?” he asked.
“whoever gets us there quicker,” elliot said, face pinched.
kyle rolled his eyes and set off walking, leaving elliot to wince until he matched kyle’s stride. luckily the walk wasn’t long before the four of you cut off the trail and found yourselves stood at the bottom of the waterfall, a light mist of water splashing at your bare skin from where you stood.
“holy shit.”
johnny nudged your shoulders together with a laugh.
“impressive, right?”
“to say the least,” you huffed.
kyle had helped elliot sit down by the edge of the plunge pool with his leg stretched out as you’d taken in the view with johnny, though you soon took a seat next to elliot when you noticed he was situated as comfortable as could be. you pulled off your shoes and socks and shuffled forwards a little to dip your feet in the water, kicking lightly and grinning even with how the cold bit at your toes.
elliot stayed stern faced even as he looked at the impressive feature, but kyle and johnny took no notice.
they started to undress, throwing their clothes down haphazardly by their bags.
“you coming in?” kyle asked you cheekily.
“we go in every time we’re here, tradition now,” johnny explained once he was stood in his underwear.
“i don’t have my swimsuit,” you said hesitantly.
“jus’ go in yer kegs like us,” johnny dismissed the worry.
“it’s probably for the best she’s said no,” elliot said meanly, one eyebrow raised as he looked over your relaxed form, your stomach rolls obvious and plush under the afternoon sun and your thighs spread thick where they pressed against the edge of the natural pool. you suddenly felt the need to layer up in your baggiest clothes. “she’s happy enough sat with me. isn’t that right, darling?”
you felt embarrassment, hot and sharp, flood from your face to your toes as you stared at him. this was your husband. a man that took delight in belittling you.
“oi,” johnny warned from where he stood waist deep in the water.
you ignored them both and stood suddenly, shucking off your clothes with tight angry movements, a smile only eventually pulling at your lips when kyle wolf whistled playfully.
johnny joined in jeering and clapped as you stepped carefully closer to the edge before jumping in. once you resurfaced, you resolutely faced away from the scowl you knew would be on your husband’s face. you were past caring.
the cold of the water had you sucking in thinner breaths until you acclimatised, and you were grateful it was deep enough to brush your collarbones as you could tell your nipples were babbling from the chill.
“be careful, love, there are fish in here,” gaz said as he drifted closer to your front. his smile was bordering on mischievous but it eased your slight reservations of being in the water. “but don’t worry they don’t bite.”
you felt a sudden pinch on your buttcheek and you squealed before johnny’s laugh and warm chest at your back registered. you flushed hot and dug your elbow back into his ribs as they laughed, both barely giving you space to float alone.
they guided you closer to the waterfall with easy going smiles and it wasn’t until you felt their capable hands on your hips and tummy to keep you from being dragged under as you held your hands under the heavy pour that you looked back guiltily at your husband. you pushed off and away from them but continued to swim a little while longer until elliot kicked up a fuss, bored.
“are we done now? it’s getting dark, we should be heading back,” he spoke up when it looked like the three of you weren’t tiring any time soon. “and then there’s dinner to think of.”
“you offering to cook, elliot?” kyle said as he climbed out of the water.
elliot scoffed. “not likely. with the ankle and all,” he said patronisingly.
gaz smiled thinly. “of course.”
the three of you dried off as best you could before dressing and heading back to the farmhouse with elliot leant between johnny and kyle.
even as your clothes chafed against your damp skin, you couldn’t bring yourself to regret swimming. thought the cold was biting even through your coat, and a warm shower was calling for you back at the farmhouse.
---
once you were back you showered quickly and then ran a bath for elliot. you helped ease him in so he didn’t slip and further injure himself.
“put on a real fucking show today,” he grumbled once he was laid back. you cupped the water over his hair carefully.
“what do you mean?” you grabbed the shampoo and began lathering it.
“don’t play dumb,” he hissed. “acting like that, like a whore, with them. again.”
“i wasn’t—“
“you’re a fucking hypocrite,” he said harshly. “punishing me for one little mistake but now you get to act like this with other men?”
you let your hands hang over the edge of the tub in shock. “you cheated on me. more than once, elliot. that’s not a little mistake.”
“we’re past this,” he said tiredly with a shake of his head, rubbing his hand over his forehead to wipe away the dripping shampoo.
“then why did you bring it up?”
he turned to look at you, disgust clear on his face.
“you’re ugly when you get like this,” he said simply. “leave me to it, i’ll call you in when i need a hand getting out.”
your lip trembled as you stood and went back to your room. as you closed the door behind you, you heard elliot mutter to himself, “he’s an absolute idiot thinking this was only a twisted ankle, clearly not a doctor. the swelling has hardly gone down.”
you didn’t react, heading to the room next door with watery eyes. as you were tidying up your clothes, sniffling back angry and hurt tears, there was a knock on the doorframe. your turned to see johnny with a plate in his hand.
“thought i’d make things easier and bring his tea up fer him,” he said and put it on the bedside table. “do you want me to bring up yours too or will you be joining us?”
“oh, i’m not hungry, thank you johnny,” you said with a watery smile. the food looked delicious but elliot’s words had soured your appetite. “i think i’m just going to go to bed as soon as elliot’s alright.”
“ye sure?”
“mhm.” you nodded.
johnny nodded, said a soft, “let me know if ye change your mind.” he pulled out a pack of pain tablets from his pocket with a little wave and dropped them on the bed and then left.
you waited for elliot’s shout before you went to help him out of the bath and back through to your room. you left him to dry and dress himself and once he was sat on the bed with his food, you turned your back to him and willed yourself to fall asleep quickly.
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part two
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flowercrowngods · 10 months ago
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who did this to you. part 3
🤍🌷 read part 1 here | read part 2 here pre-s4, steve whump, protective (but scared) eddie. now with robin!
The number rings in his head, echoing off the inside of his skull and sinking lower and lower until his heart strings join the symphony that leaves him shaking as the memory of Harrington’s slurred voice is drowned out by the dial tone that feels harrowingly like a flatline right now. 
Said I’ll go blind. Or deaf. Or just… die.
Eddie doesn’t really feel like his body belongs to him anymore, or like there’s anything left inside him other than panic and fear and that stupid, stupid shaking that he can’t suppress even as he bites his knuckles. Hard. 
The pain helps a little not to startle too much when the dial tone stops and a female voice begins speaking to him. Still he almost drops the phone, cursing under his breath as he pulls his hair to collect himself and get his voice to work. 
“H— Hi, hello, Mrs Buckley? This is, uh. I. I’m. A friend of Robin’s, could you, uh—“ 
“Oh, of course, dear,” the woman says, and Eddie feels his eyes beginning to prick with how nice she sounds even through the phone. 
Does she know Steve, too? Would she worry if she knew? Would she curse Eddie for not taking him to the hospital right away? Would she blame him if anything happened? 
“I’m sorry? What did you say your name was?” she asks, repeating herself by the sound of it. 
He blanks, for a whole five seconds, before he spots a note stuck to the fridge saying Don’t forget to eat, Eddie :-)
“Eddie,” he croaks. “Uh, Eddie Munson.”
“Alright, Eddie Munson, I’ll see if I can grab Robin for you. You have a good day, dear, yes?” 
No. “Thanks.” 
The hand clenched in his hair pulls tighter and tighter until the tears fall and he can pretend it’s from pain and not from— whatever the fuck is happening. 
He waits, phone pressed to his ear with a kind of desperation he’s never really felt, and never wants to feel again. He doesn’t even know what to tell Robin; what to say. It’s not like they ever hang out or have anything to say to each other, so why would she— 
“Munson?” Robin’s voice appears on the other end, a little too loud for Eddie’s certain state, and he does drop the phone this time, scrambling to catch it and only making the situation worse as it dangles by his knees. 
He drops to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest and reaching for the phone again. 
“Hi.” 
“What do you want? How’d you even get this number? I swear, if you—“ 
“It’s Blue. I mean, Steve. Harrington.” 
That shuts her right up, and Eddie clenches his eyes shut for a moment, hoping to keep the tremor out of his voice if only he takes a moment to breathe. 
The moment stretches. And Robin’s voice is wary and quiet when she speaks again. 
“What about Steve.” 
Eddie rubs his face, leaving more dirt and grime to fill the tear tracks, and clenches his fist before his mouth. 
“Eddie,” Robin demands, dangerous now. Nothing left of the rambling, bubbling mess he knows her to be on the school hallways. “What. About. Steve.” 
“He… He’s hurt.” 
There’s a bit of a commotion on the other end, before Robin declares, “I’m coming over. You tell me everything.” 
“You— I mean, he’s in the hospital with my uncle, so—“ 
“I am. Coming. Over,” she says, enunciating every word as though she were making a threat. Maybe she is. But the certainty in her voice helps a little, anchors him the same way that Wayne’s calmness did. “And you tell me everything.” 
Eddie finds himself nodding along, knowing intuitively that there is nothing that could stop her now. Knowing that he doesn’t want to stop her. 
“‘Kay.” It’s a pathetic little sound, all choked up and tiny. She doesn’t comment on it. 
One second he hears her determined exhale, the next she’s hung up on him and Eddie is greeted by the flatline again. He lets out a shuddering breath and leans his head back against the wall. 
Breathing is hard again, but it’s all he has to do now, all that’s left to do, so he focuses. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold. His lungs are burning and there’s something wrong about the way he pulls in air and keeps it there, desperately latching onto it until the very last second, his exhales more of a gasping cough than calm and controlled. 
It takes a while. Longer than it should. But with Harrington’s blood still on his hands, with his heartbeat in his ears so loud he can’t even hear the words Wayne used to say about breathing in through the mouth or the nose or… or something, he— 
He’s fine. He’s home. Wayne’s got Blue, and Buckley is on her way, and… He’s fine. 
People don’t just die. 
They don’t. 
He’s fine. 
Eventually, Eddie manages to breathe steadily, the air no longer shuddering and his hands no longer shaking. It’s stupid, really, being so worked up over someone he doesn’t even really know. Sure, everyone knows Steve fucking Harrington, and everyone sees Steve fucking Harrington — whether they want it or not. He has a way of drawing eyes toward him even if all he does is walk the halls with his dorky smile and that stupidly charming swagger he’s got going on. Always matching his shoes to his outfit.
Eddie can relate.
Always reaching out to touch the person he’s talking to; clapping their back or shoulder, lightly shoving them in jest, ruffling their hair or chasing them through the halls, moving and holding himself like teenage angst can’t reach him. Like he belongs wherever he goes. Like he’s so, so comfortable in his own skin. Like the clothes he wears aren’t armour but just a part of him; a means of self-expression. 
Again, Eddie can relate. He can relate to all of this. 
It’s almost like the two of them aren’t so different after all. Just going about it differently. 
And now he’s… Bleeding. Slurring his speech. Wheezing his breath. And Eddie feels protective. Eddie feels responsible. Like he should be there, like he should get to know more about him. About Steve. About Blue. 
But he can’t. And he won’t. So he gets up with a groan that expresses his frustration and the need to make a sound, to fight the oppressive silence that only encourages his thoughts to run in obsessive little circles, and he hangs up the phone that’s been dangling beside him all this time. 
He needs a smoke. 
He needs a smoke and a blunt and a drink and for this day to be over and for time to revert and to leave him out of whatever business he stumbled into by opening the door to the boathouse and, apparently, Steve Harrington’s life. 
But unfortunately, the universe doesn’t seem to care about what he needs, because just as he steps outside and goes to light his cig, he catches sight of a harried looking Robin Buckley, standing on the pedals of her bike as she kicks them, her hair blowing in the wind to reveal a frown between her brows. A wave of unease overcomes Eddie, an unease he can’t really place. Maybe it’s the set of her jaw, or the tension in her shoulders, or maybe it’s the worry and anger she exudes. 
It never occurred to him before that Robin Buckley might not be a person you’d want to set off. And not because of her uncontrollable rambles. 
“Munson!” she calls over, carelessly dropping her bike in the driveway and stalking toward him. 
Almost as if summoning a shield, Eddie does light the cigarette. Pretends like the smoke can protect him. 
She doesn’t stop at the foot of the steps, though, climbs them in two leaps and gets all up in his space with that unwavering look of determination — so unwavering, in fact, that it almost looks like wrath. Cold. Eddie wants to shrink away from it, not at all daring to wonder what could make her look like that upon hearing that Steve’s hurt. 
I don’t wanna die, Munson. I never… I didn’t. With the monsters or the torture.
But those are the words of a semi-conscious teenage boy beat to a pulp, they can’t— There’s no way. Eddie misheard him, or Steve was talking about some kind of inside joke, using the wrong terminology with the wrong guy. It happens. It happens when you’re out of it, really! The shit he’s said when he was shot up, canned up, all strung out and high as a kite… He’d be talking of monsters, too, and mean some benign shit. 
But the way Harrington looked, none of that was benign. The bruising all over his face, the blood still dripping from the wound by his temple or his nose, the way he held himself, breath rattling in his lungs, or— 
“Hey!” Buckley demands his attention, giving him a light shove; just enough to catch his attention, really, and just what he needed to snap out of it. Still the smoke hits his lungs wrong and he coughs up a lung, further cementing his role of the pathetic little guy today. 
“Hey,” he says lamely, his voice still croaking as he crushes the half-smoked cigarette under his boot. “Sorry.” He doesn’t know for what. But it feels appropriate. 
She shakes her head, rolling her eyes at him as she crosses her arms in front of her chest. 
“Tell me,” she says at last, and even though there is a tremor in her voice, she sounds nothing short of demanding. “I want the whole story, and I want it now.” 
And so he does. He tells her everything, bidding her inside because he needs the relative safety of the trailer even though the air in here is stuffy and still faintly smells blue. He pours them both some coffee and some tea, because asking what she wants doesn’t feel right in the middle of telling her how he found her supposed best friend beat to shit in the boathouse he went to to forget about the world for a while. 
She stills as she listens to him, staring ahead into the middle distance somewhere beneath the floor and the walls, her hands wrapped around the steaming mug of coffee. Eddie stumbles over his words a lot, unsettled by her stillness, her lack of reaction. She doesn’t even react to his fuck-ups. People usually do.
He wants to ask. Where are you right now? What have you seen? What’s on your mind? What the fuck is happening?
But he doesn’t ask, instead he tells her more about Steve. About how he seemed to forget where he was. About the pain he was in. About the smiles nonetheless. The way he reassured Eddie. 
That one finally gets a choked little huff from her, somewhere between a sob and a laugh. 
“Yeah, that sounds like him alright. He’s such a dingus.” 
There is so much affection in her voice as she says it that Eddie can’t help but smile into his mug. 
“Dingus?” he asks, hoping for some lightness, hoping to keep it. 
But the light fades, and her eyes get distant again. Eddie wants to kick himself. 
“Just a stupid little nickname. An insult, really.”
“Oh.” He doesn’t know what to do with that. If he should ask more or if he should say that he has a feeling Steve might appreciate stupid little nicknames. Especially if they’re unique. Especially if they’re for him. But what right does he have to say that now? What knowledge does he have about Steve Harrington that Robin doesn’t? 
So he bites his tongue and drinks his coffee, cursing the silence that falls over them as Robin mirrors him, albeit slow and stilted, like she doesn’t know what to do either. Or where to put her limbs. 
“Wayne’s got him now. I took him here, after the boathouse, because I didn’t know what to do. He said he didn’t want the hospital, said there’s…” He trails off. 
Robin looks at him, her eyes wary but alert. “Said there’s what?” 
It’s stupid. Don’t say it. 
“Eddie?” 
With a sigh, he puts his mug on the counter and stuffs his hands into his pockets. “He said there’s monsters. In the hospital, I mean. He said that.”
Instead of scoffing or at least frowning, Robin clenches her jaw and nods imperceptibly, her eyes going distant again. Eddie blinks, the urge to just fucking ask overcoming him again, but with every passing second he realises that he doesn’t actually want to ask. He doesn’t want to know, let alone find out. 
He just… He just wants to go to bed. Forget any of this ever happened. But he can’t do that, so he continues. 
“Brought him here and Wayne took one look at him and convinced him he needed a doctor. And, Jesus H Christ, he was right. I’ve never… I mean, those things don’t happen,” he urges, balling his hands into fists even in the confined space of his pockets. “Right? I mean… Shit, man.” He bumps his shoe into the kitchen counter; gently, so as not to startle Buckley out of her fugue like state. 
“You’d be surprised,” she rasps, staring into the middle distance again and slowly sinking to the floor. There is a tremor in her shoulders now, barely noticeable, but Eddie knows where to look. Without really thinking about it, he grabs two of his hoodies he’d haphazardly thrown over the kitchen chairs this morning while deciding on his outfit and realising that it was altogether too warm for long sleeves today. But now, right here in this kitchen, the air tinged with blue, they’re both freezing. 
Because fear and worry will take all the warmth right from inside of you and leave you freezing even on the hottest day of the year. 
She barely looks at him when he holds out his all-black Iron Maiden hoodie to her, freshly washed and all that, but she takes it nonetheless, immediately pulling it on. It’s way too large on her, her hands not showing through the sleeves, her balled fists safe and warm inside the fabric. It would make him smile if only it didn’t highlight her stillness, her faraway stare, and the years he has on her. She’s, what, two years younger than him? Three? 
It seems surreal. Everything, everything does. 
Robin Buckley in his home, sitting on his kitchen floor, swallowed by a hoodie that is a size too large even for him, but it was the last one they had in the store and he doesn’t mind oversized clothes, can just cut them shorter when the need arises or layer them or declare them comfort sweaters for when he wants to just have his hands not slip through the sleeves on some days. And now Robin is wearing his comfort hoodie because her best friend was bleeding in his car earlier and then on his couch and now in his uncle’s car, and they never even talk, but he knows that Robin’s favourite colour is blue, but not morning hour blue because that makes her sad; only deep, dark blues. 
Her favourite colour. Her favourite person. 
It’s so fucking surreal. 
He drops down beside her, leaving enough space between them so neither of them feels caged, and mirrors her position: knees to his chest, chin on his forearms. Staring ahead. 
And silence reigns. 
“Your uncle,” she says at last, finally breaking the silence that’s been grating on Eddie’s nerves and looking at him, really looking as she rests her cheek on her forearms crossed over her knees. “Tell me about him.” 
There is a gentleness to her voice now despite how hoarse it is. Maybe she’s just tired, too. And scared. At least the shivering has stopped. 
Still Eddie frowns, confused as to why she should be breaking the silence to ask about Wayne when everything today has been about Harrington. About Steve. About deep and dark blues. 
“Uncle Wayne?” he asks. “Why?”
“Because,” she begins, and sighs deeply, works to get the air back in her lungs. Eddie wants to reach out, but instead he just clenches his fingers a little deeper into the fabric of his hoodie. “My best friend is hurt very badly and the only person with him is your uncle, and I need to know that he’s in good hands. Or I swear to whatever god you may or may not believe in, and granted, it’s probably the latter, but still I swear I’ll give into my arsonist tendencies and burn down this city, starting with your trailer if you don’t tell me that your uncle is a good man who will do anything in his power to make sure that boy gets the help and care he needs. And deserves.” 
Her jaw is set and her bottom lip trembles, but it doesn’t take away from the absolute sincerity in her threat. 
“So, please,” she continues, her voice breaking just a little bit. “Tell me. Tell me about your uncle.” 
Tell me about your favourite person. 
Eddie swallows, and mirrors her position once more, so she can see his eyes and know he’s sincere. Because he’s learned something about eyes today, about how much in the world can change if only you have a pair of eyes to look into. 
And he nods, looking for somewhere to start. “He’s the best man I know. He’s the best man you’ll ever meet.”
She clings to his eyes. Searches them for the truth, beseeching them not to lie. He lets her. 
“Took me in when I was ten, because my dad’s a fuck-up and my mom’s a goner. Took me in again when I was twelve after I ran away. Makes me breakfast and I pretends the dinner I make him is more than edible.” He smiles a little, because how could he not? “He’s my uncle, but still he’s the best parent anyone could wish for. Writes those little notes that he sticks to the fridge, y’know, the one with the smiley face? Tells me to eat, because I forget sometimes. I tell him to drink water, because he forgets. First few years, he’d read to me. And the man’s a shit reader, has some kind of disability I think, and at some point I learned that he wasn’t reading at all. He was telling me stories all the time, conning me into thinking that the books were magic, and that every time I’d try to read the book for myself, the story would change.” 
There’s a lump in his throat now, and his eyes sting again. But Robin doesn’t seem to fare any better than him if her wavering smile is any indication. 
“There’s no one,” Eddie continues, “who will make you believe in magic quite like uncle Wayne. Or in good things. And d’you wanna know what he told Blue when he said he was scared of going to the hospital?” 
Sniffling, Robin shakes her head. 
“He said, Okay. Then we do it scared. And all of that after he just… with that patience he has, told him everything that was gonna happen. And that he’d be there with him through it all. That he knew the doc and wouldn’t let anyone else near him, and that there’s no need to be scared at all.” 
He sighs, breathes, stills. Swallows, before looking back at Robin. 
��So, if there’s one person who’ll make sure that boy gets the help and care he needs and deserves…” 
“It’s uncle Wayne,” Robin finishes his sentence, her voice still hoarse, but Eddie likes to think it’s for a different reason now. 
“It’s uncle Wayne,” Eddie says, nodding along as he does. 
There is something like understanding in Robin’s eyes now, and Eddie hopes it’s enough. Enough to calm the spiking of her nerves, enough to settle the coil of freezing nausea that must reside in the pit of her stomach, enough to let the next breath she takes feel a little more like it’s supposed to be there. 
He wants to say something more, wants to reach out and reassure her that everything will be okay, but he can’t know that. He doesn’t feel like it’s entirely true, let alone appropriate right now. 
There’s something in Robin’s eyes, in the way she holds herself, like she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like she accepts his words at face value but doesn’t really believe them. Like she’ll only rest when she’s got her best friend back in her arms and hears the story — the whole story — from him. 
And Eddie doesn’t fault her, because the thing is, he doesn’t know what happened. Steve said that Hagan came at him, but that’s really all he got out of him before he started talking about death and shit, and Eddie really didn’t want to ask any more questions then. 
So they sit there for a while, the silence oppressive and unwelcome, clumsy and awkward; Robin’s mouth opening and closing a lot, like she wants to ask questions but doesn’t dare to ask them — and Eddie doesn’t know if he’s glad about it or not. Doesn’t know if he wants to hear the kind of questions asked with that kind of stare. 
It is only after a long while, when Robin’s shoulders start shaking again and she buries deeper into the hoodie and her own spiralling thoughts, that Eddie breaks the silence again, replaying in his head the last moment between him and Steve. 
“He’s not gonna break,” he tells her, aiming for gentle and reassuring. 
What he doesn’t expect is the minute flinch, the jolt shooting through her body and the pained expression it leaves her with. What he doesn’t expect is what she says next. 
“You know,” she begins, her voice as far away as her eyes, and it’s like she doesn’t even know she’s speaking. “Sometimes I wish he would.” 
What?
Eddie blinks, swallowing hard.
“Just for, just for a break. Just so he can rest. Let the rest take over for a while.” 
That… He doesn’t— What the hell does that even mean? 
“Like maybe then the world would… snap back.” She snaps her fingers, just once. This time it’s Eddie who flinches. “And everything bad would disappear. But it won’t. And he won’t.” She swallows. Then quietly, almost inaudible, “He won’t break.” 
And the way she says it… It was reassuring before. And now it feels like a burden. A curse. 
Who the fuck are you, Steve Harrington? And you, Robin Buckley. 
Eddie shudders, knowing he doesn’t want the answer to that anymore. He doesn’t want the questions either. So he buries his face in his hands, closes his eyes, and breathes. The adrenaline has worn off by now, the repeated panicking that added fuse to the fire has ceased now, leaving him worn out and strung out, tired and exhausted. He pulls up the hood, burrowing into the warmth. 
And then he stills. His usually twitching, fumbling, fiddling body falling entirely still beside Buckley. 
It’s like time stops for a while there, even though Eddie knows that it’s dragging ever on and on. He’s inclined to let it, though. He’s too tired, too exhausted to really care about what time may or may not be doing. 
“Why’d you call me?” 
It takes a while for Eddie to realise that Robin’s spoken again, asked him a question out loud, the cadence of it different to the endless circles of questions Eddie’s got stuck in his head since the early afternoon tinged in blue against crimson. 
He lifts his head, tucking his hands underneath his chin, and looks over at Buckley. Her hair is dishevelled now, her mascara smudged and crusty. Her lipstick is almost all gone, with the way he sees her biting and chewing on her lips. 
“I… It seemed like the right thing to do, y’know? He kept repeating your number. In the car, it was like… Sounds dramatic, but it was like his lifeline, almost. Repeated it so often it kinda got stuck.” He shrugs. “Seemed important, too.”
Robin frowns; a careful little thing. “How’d you know it was me?”
“Well, he just talked about you. Y’know. Tell me about your favourite person, I told him, because that’s the thing you gotta do to keep people, like, talking to you. Not shit about what day it is, or what. Just, y’know. Let them talk about things they like. Things they’ll wanna tell you about. ’N’ he talked about you.” 
She’s quiet for a while, letting his words sink in. And Eddie wonders if she knew. That she’s his favourite person. If he ever told her. If maybe he took that from him now. It’s a stupid thing to worry about, really; the boy was bloodied and bruised on his couch just an hour ago, there are worse things at hand for Eddie to worry about. But now he wonders if he just spilled some sort of secret. Some sort of love confession. 
“Did you, I mean… Are you guys, like, dating? Did I just steal his moment?” 
Robin huffs, but it’s more like a smile that needs a little more space in the room, a little more air to really bloom. It’s fond. She shakes her head, her eyes far away again, but closer somehow. 
“Nah,” she says, and the smile is in her voice, too. Eddie kind of likes her voice like that. “We’re platonic. Which is something I’d never thought I’d say. Not about Steve Harrington, y’know?” 
And the way she drags out his name… Eddie can relate. Like it means something, but like what it means is nowhere close to reality. Nowhere close to what it really means. Nowhere close to Blue. 
Robin sighs, the sound more gentle than it should be, and leans her head against the cabinet behind her. “We worked together over summer break. Scoops Ahoy.” Her voice does a funny thing, and her eyes glaze over as she pauses. Eddie waits, his lips tipped up into a little smile, too; to match hers. 
“What, the ice cream parlour?” 
Robin hums, her smile widening at what Eddie guesses must be memories of chaos and ridiculousness. “I wanted to hate him,” she continues. “But try as I might, he wouldn’t let me. Or, he did. He did let me. Just, it turns out, there’s no use hating Steve Harrington, not when he’s so… So endlessly genuine. There’s nothing to hate, y’know? And then he…” 
She stops, her mouth clicking shut as her eyes tear up a little. The Starcourt fire. Eddie remembers the news, remembers the self-satisfied smirk when he’d heard about it, remembers sticking it to the Man and to capitalism and to the idea of malls over supporting your friendly neighbourhood businesses. 
Guilt and shame overcome him as he realises that they must have been in there when it happened. 
“He saved your life?” 
Robin’s eyes snap toward him, wide and caught, and Eddie raises his hands in placation. 
“In the fire? Were you there?” 
“Y—yeah.” She swallows hard, avoiding his eyes. “The fire. He saved me. Yeah.” 
Eddie nods, deciding to drop that topic right there; to lay it on the ground as gently as he can and cover it with bright red colours so he never steps on it ever again. 
“He must be your favourite person, too, then, hm?” he steers the conversation back away into safer waters. 
“He is,” she says, sure and genuine and true. “It’s just. I don’t think I’ve ever been anyone’s favourite. He has a lot of people who care about him, you know? A lot of people he cares about. Even more numbers memorised in that stupidly smart head of his.” She huffs again, burrowing deeper into Eddie’s hoodie, pulling the sleeves over her hands some more. “It’s stupid, to be so hung up on this. Is it stupid?” 
“I don’t think it is,” Eddie says, scooting a little closer to Robin. “Like, I don’t even know that boy, right? But even I know that he’s got some ways to shift your focus or something. Give you a silver lining, or something to take the pain away even when he’s the one who… I don’t know, that’s probably stupid, too.” 
“Nah,” Robin says, scooting closer to him, too, until their sides are pressed together and she can lay her head on his shoulder. “It’s not stupid. You’re right; that’s Steve for you. ’S just who he is.” 
It is, isn’t it? 
You’re so blue, Stevie. 
She’ll say something corny when, when you ask her, jus’ to fuck with you. Sunset gold or rose, jus’ to mess with… But is blue.
Blue. ‘S nice. 
Yeah. Yeah, he is. 
Eddie lets his thoughts roam the endless possibilities and realities that is Steve Harrington, the depths he hides — or won’t hide, maybe, if you know how to ask. Where to look. 
Maybe he’ll find out, one of these days. Not about the terrible things that leave him scared of the hospital, not about the horrible things that have him speaking of death and dying like he’s accepted them as a possibility a long time ago. 
He swallows hard and shakes off these thoughts, because things like that just. They don’t happen. They don’t happen to blue-smiled boys who trust you to be kind even when they’re beaten straight to hell. And they sure as hell don’t happen when uncle Wayne’s around. 
Nothing bad has ever happened when uncle Wayne was around. 
And he wants to tell Robin, wants to make that promise. But part of him can’t bear the thought of being wrong. So he keeps his mouth shut and just sits with her, their heads as heavy as their hearts as they wait. 
The sun is long gone when the phone above him rings again, spooking and startling them out of their timeless existence. 
“Yeah?” he answers, his heart hammering in his chest. “Wayne?” 
“Hey, Ed,” Wayne’s voice comes through the phone like a melody. Calm and steady. Robin is scooting closer, and Eddie shifts the phone to accommodate her so they can both listen. Somehow, they ended up holding hands — and holding on hard. “We’re coming home now.” 
🤍🌷 tagging:
@theshippirate22 @mentallyundone @ledleaf @imfinereallyy @itsall-taken @simply-shin @romanticdestruction @temptingfatetakingnames @stevesbipanic @steddie-island @estrellami-1 @jackiemonroe5512 @emofratboy @writing-kiki @steviesummer @devondespresso @swimmingbirdrunningrock @dodger-chan @tellatoast @inkjette @weirdandabsurd42 @annabanannabeth @deany-baby @mc-i-r @mugloversonly @viridianphtalo @nightmareglitter @jamieweasley13 @copingmechanizm @marklee-blackmore @sirsnacksalot @justrandomfandomstm @hairdryerducks @silenzioperso @newtstabber @fantrash @zaddipax @cometsandstardust @rowanshadow26 @limpingpenguin @finntheehumaneater @extra-transitional (sorry if i missed anyone! lmk if you don't wanna be tagged for part 4 🫶)
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avephelis · 8 months ago
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if you like silly gay people in love read @phantom-does-a-thing's They Ain't Casing Out Weddings the clothing descriptions have me in a chokehold
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courfee · 7 months ago
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“Regulus would be proud of us,” James whispered quietly to no one in particular, still gripping onto the painting like a life raft. 
— Tender Curiosities, Baby!  @otrtbs
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absolute-ferret · 1 month ago
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You can have more textposts , as a treat
First one is a reference to @interstyx 's fic, Here, Be nice
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(Sorry i just ADORE their fic . Dies)
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rotthepoet · 3 months ago
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In love with your writing, specially bsf!theo. I’m in such an angst mood. Everyone knows we’re in love with Theo and he’s in love with us besides the two of us. Longing with fwb to lovers? Maybe some more smut if you’re feeling spicy?
IN LOVE WITH YOU, POOKIE!!! If theres one thing I know how to do its YEARN and LONG so lets hope that translates into writing 🙏 it’s been a hot minute since I wrote an actual fic, and i took a few liberties with your rq, so please let me know how you feel about it!
Notes: i typically write for a gn!reader, but I really hope everyone can forgive me for writing in a FEM perspective today. It just makes writing smut a tad bit easier on me(an afab person)
Content warnings: As always, Hogwarts University AU, Characters are all 18+, Draco Malfoy calls Nott a fat ass(degrading eating habits, commenting on working out), Theo’s mom is dead, mutual pining but being too stupid to figure it out, crying during sex but not in a hot way(no safe word used/tech needed), angstyish to comfort, use of drugs(weed), SMUT, oral(fem receiving), kinda proofread? Please let me know if I miss anything major.
Things only got more intense as the… situation went on. Hooking up had become significantly more common, almost a daily occurrence. You found your mind drifting to Theodore more often than not, thinking about how disheveled his hair looked in the morning, or how the first words he mumbled when he saw you today were “Hello, beautiful”.
Your thoughts never strayed too far from Theodore, and to be honest, it felt like he never strayed too far from you.
In the most recent months, it felt like you two had become inseparable. That’s not to say it was a bad thing at all, oh no in fact, it made you quite happy to know he was around. He was your friend after all. The sex-thing, as you opted to call it, was just a benefit you both indulged in time to time.
Of course, neither of you dared to openly admit your scandalous behavior together. It wasn’t anyone’s business, even as Theodore had started seeing less women and spending less nights out partying. It wasn’t anyone’s business when Theo wrapped an arm around your shoulder while walking around Hogsmeade, or when he smiled at you when you weren’t looking. It wasn’t anyone’s business whenever Theo stopped sleeping around completely, and it certainly wasn’t their business when he beat the shit out of one of the Weasley twins for accidentally catching you in the crossfire of a loose prank.
It wasn’t anyone’s business besides the two of yours, and for the most part people had began to ignore it, except for a select group of close friends.
A day didn’t go by where you weren’t pestered by one of Theodore’s friends. They collectively figured that you were more likely to break under pressure than Theo was. It was ruthless.
Draco Malfoy stands at the front of your desk, glaring down at you. “You know you’re just another one of his phases. He does this. Falls helplessly in love with a girl, dedicates his entire time to her, only to remember he isn’t built for that life. It’s about time you save yourself the trouble. I’m only trying to help.”
Not everyone was as terrible as Draco, thankfully.
Mattheo Riddle would approach you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist, putting on his most convincing Theodore impression. “Ciao, Bella,” even his most convincing impression wasn’t very good, “My room or yours?”
Sometimes you play along, running your hands over Mattheo’s in a way that makes his skin prick with goosebumps. “I was thinking we could do it on Matt’s bed again.”
That usually get’s you a hard shove away if Theodore hadn’t already spotted the situation.
Lorenzo Berkshire isn’t as insistent, just staring at the two of you, raising a brow whenever he finds you hand in hand. He draws a huge smirk on his face every time he sees you alone.
“Where’s your boyfriend?”
“You mean your boyfriend? I see the way you look at him, don’t play dumb Enzo.”
He doesn’t like that game as much. Usually scoffs and ignores you.
Then there was Blaise Zabini.
Blaise Zabini.
He knows more than he should. Far more than he should. He watches. He listens. He knows. He perceives.
The first time Blaise found you asleep in Theo’s arms, it was early in the morning. Their little clique never missed breakfast together unless something drastic had happened. So, whenever Theodore didn’t show up for breakfast, Blaise volunteered to check on him. Only Draco questioned it when Blaise grabbed a plate and two muffins(“Those are practically cakes, Nott’s fat ass doesn’t need one to begin with, let alone two! Doesn’t even show up to quidditch practice anymore.”). Draco was ignored.
“You’re going to lose her if you keep acting like this, you know that right?”
Theodore tries to ignore Blaise as best he can, he really does. He traces his fingers over your hair softly, watching you dream.
“Just tell her, Theo. What are you so scared of?”
“Drop it, Blaise.”
“No. You obviously love her, you’re obviously in love with her!”
“Lower your voice-“
“Why are you so scared? Is it your father, Theo? Is it your-”
“I mean it Zabini, drop it.”
The room goes eerily quiet as you shift slightly in Theodores arms. It lasts for only a moment before your breathing returns to the deep, rhythmic patterns.
“Get out.”
Blaise didn’t brother bringing it up after that. He knew what was going to happen, and he was going to let it play out. It wasn’t his business, after all.
Your friends weren’t much different. You stopped hanging out with them as much, not on purpose at all, but it didn’t go unnoticed. Maybe one or two of your friends resented Nott for it, “He’s a playboy, everyone knows that. I don’t like how close he’s getting to you.” Or “You aren’t… sleeping with him right? Please tell me you aren’t.”
Both you and Theodore laughed endlessly about every comment. It was silly. I mean yeah, you two fuck, but you’re just friends. You’re just friends, and friends can totally cuddle each other to sleep, and friends can totally kiss without sex. Its not a big deal! Its not a big deal as Theo almost pukes every time he says, “You’re my friend, I’d tell you if anything changed.” And it’s not a big deal when your chest aches as you say “Same here. It’s not that weird when you think about it.”
It wasn’t a big deal the first time you cried during sex. It wasn’t a big deal when he pulled out immediately and held your face, asking what he can do for you to make it better. It wasn’t a big deal when you sobbed in his arms for hours, chest hurting because you loved him so much and you knew you could never say anything. It wasn’t a big deal when Theodore kissed your mouth shut when you tried to apologize. It was a big deal though. It was a really big deal.
It was a big deal when you wrote your name next to Nott like a child. It was a big deal when you kicked your feet in bed thinking about how he called you pretty. It was a big deal when he kissed your cheek so absentmindedly that it felt natural. It felt right.
It was a big deal, and it hurt so bad.
But you could manage. Look at how strong you are. Look at how composed you are. You knew that one day all of this would come to an end, and you were okay with that! It was something you knew you could one day stomach, so for now, you didn't let yourself worry about it.
What you worried about instead, was how fine the object of your affection looked tonight.
Theodore was dressed to the nines. Black slacks, a loose button-up shirt, and those eyes that undressed you no matter where you were. He was gorgeous, and he knew it. You looked wonderful too, showing just enough skin to keep Theo on his toes.
Slytherin winning the house cup was a moment to be celebrated, the common room decorated and loud music playing from every corner of the room. You and Theodore spent every moment together, laughing whenever someone dared approach either of you for a dance.
Smoke curled out of Theodore's lips as he snuffed out the filter of a joint you had shared. He grinned at you, and you smiled at him, and everything else faded away.
Time slowed down, and Theodore's smile fell.
"I want to be with you, this summer."
And you laughed and smiled, nudging his arm slightly. "Well, all you need to do is invite me to your summer home in Italy, and I promise I'll spend every day with you."
"No. I want to be with you."
And for a moment, it felt like everything was still. Theodore looked so scared, and you looked so scared, and your mind was fighting the high to fully understand and process his words.
"With me?"
"With you."
You bit the inside of your cheek, almost not realizing whenever Theodore groaned and stood up.
"Theo."
"Fuck. I knew this was a bad idea."
"Theodore."
"I'm sorry. I knew we shouldn't have."
"Theodore Nott, look at me right now."
And he did. He looked at you so sadly. It made your heart ache.
"I want to be with you, too."
It felt like a brick that sat on your heart had finally been lifted. You laughed at the smile that spread across his face. You laughed as he pressed sloppy kisses against your lips. You laughed as he picked you up, kissing you stupid as he carried you to your room.
The weed still made your mind and body buzz with a high, and fuck, every touch felt better than ever before.
Your back hit the mattress, and Theo climbed over you. He looked so handsome, and you felt so pretty the way he looked at you. His hands worked at your dress, pulling you into a deep kiss as he found the zipper in the back.
Your hands gracelessly unbuttoned his shirt, whining into the kiss as you struggled. Finally, with a small chuckle, Theo offered to help you. His hands worked smoothly, pulling his shirt off his shoulders.
"You're stunning."
"Take a look at yourself, cara mia."
Theodore pushed you back down, gripping your hips as he dragged you to the edge of the bed. You laugh, resting your hands over his, feeling just how wet you are between your thighs. You lean your head back, sighing softly as Theo drops to his knees.
Nothing else mattered when Theodore's tongue found your clothed pussy. His strong and veiny hands pushed your thighs further apart, and pathetic mewls spilled from your lips as he licked you.
Theodore continued to tease you, a grin plastered to his face at every moan and whine you let slip out. He licks over the lace of your panties, daring to suck on your clit through the soaked fabric. Pleas spill from your lips, and Theo can't bite back his groan as you tug on his curls.
Dead eyes look up at you from between your legs, and Theo pulled away just enough to remove the lace hiding your heat from him. He blows on your wet folds, pulling your thighs to his shoulders.
"I think I could stay like this forever, right here."
You roll your eyes and sit up, pulling Theo up just enough to admire his wet face. "I think I'd miss your face too much," you laugh, leaning in and kissing his lips, shivering as you taste yourself on him.
"I have a few other positions that I wouldn't mind staying in."
You push away his smirking face with a laugh, gasping for air suddenly as his mouth finds your clit. Gasps turn into soft whines as his tongue moves across your pearl, your hips jerking and shifting at each motion. You can feel his smirk as he licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit, collecting your arousal on his tongue.
"Theo," You whine out, but he silences you with a long finger prodding at your entrance. He shushes you, planting wet kisses along your thigh. "I know, bella, just take a deep breath. 'Gotta stretch you out all the way."
A needy moan slipped from your lips as a finger slipped inside of you. You could hear how wet you were, and Theo pulled back just enough to watch the digit disappear inside of you. He pressed a second finger in, carefully spreading them inside of you.
"So soft. So pliant."
His whispers made your legs shake as he stretched you out thoroughly. The knot in your stomach grew tighter, and it became almost unbearable as his lips found your clit again. He was slow, savoring the feeling of your legs shaking beside his head, and the feeling of your walls clenching around him.
Ecstasy flooded your mind before you had a moment to think about it. Theo groaned into your cunt, committing the taste to memory. He continued working his fingers in and out of your cunt until you were shaking in overstimulation, only then finally freeing himself from between your legs.
"You have one more in you, right? Can't get enough of you, cara mia. Will never have enough of you."
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dalliancekay · 2 months ago
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Very Nice
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No deep thoughts just: I'M FUCKING OBSESSED WITH THIS
Mr Sheen just casually turning my world upside down and inside out with a subtle flick of his eyes and an amused little pout.
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kwoojii · 4 months ago
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hot spring adventures
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the-one-that-weeps · 4 months ago
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Every time someone in this godforsaken fandom says "I think we've talked about misogyny enough" I want to hit them with a hammer. No we haven't.
We haven't even talked about the deep "Ruikasa&Akitoya Vs. literally everyone else" imbalance enough but imagine all of the people that get pressured into writing specifically for male/male ships simply because otherwise they won't get any appreciation.
Yes it's a cowardly thing but when you see Ruikasa having over 4000 fics and Ichisaki having like 5 in total obviously you're going to be discouraged. Obviously you'll be biased into creating Ruikasa instead of other ships.
And as someone who depends on appreciation in particular to do any work at all obviously that's going to have a lasting consequence. Some people spend 4 hours crying in front of a screen just for 3 people to like their work and leave, it's understandable if they lose passion for creating at all, you guys killed them.
It's even in how we handle m/m ships. You go into a fic that's tagged Rui&Tsukasa(platonic), someone in the comments always goes "okay but when do they kiss". You go to an action-packed longfic, someone always ends up going "okay but when do they kiss".
Fuck you guys. Actually. This is a silly piano tiles game about Hatsune Miku, we should be one of the MOST CREATIVE fandoms in history and somehow people still get mad over two boys not kissing immediately after getting introduced. It's so fucking difficult being a content creator in this fandom because you always end up having to take the same route. They meet they tease they kiss. End of story. "Oh you're doing something "lame" instead? -1 kudo. Bring me my yaoi next🖕"
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monicaeidolith · 4 months ago
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it's been 8 years and she's still down bad for her neighbor (who wouldn't)
and so there she is: Step 3 Athena! 🌙✨
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Step 1 & Step 2 here
(Infos about Athena in every steps except 4 below if you're interested)
(watch out it's long.)
Step 1 -
At 10, Athena is a very curious girl, somewhat nosey and a bit clumsy (main reason why she often has bandages). She likes puzzles, creepy stuff and drawing (but nothing that serious about that hobby yet). While she isn't very shy, she's still uneasy around people she doesn't know and moving to a new town isn't helping. She has trouble accepting changes, and this whole situation is a way too big change.
Athena is very close to her mom during step 1. Unfortunately for her, she doesn't really look like her that much and she's kind of bothered by that, especially because the person she obviously looks like, her "dad", isn't there. Not having a dad isn't really a huge problem for her, but Athena fears a little bit people's opinion on that subject: "Is it weird that I don't have a dad...?".
She's feeling sad and scared about moving out, as she has to get used to a completely different world (in her eyes). "At least I have my mom", she thinks. But if moving in Golden Grove was scary at first, meeting Qiu and Tamarack was a huge help for Athena to feel included.
She thinks Qiu, aka "Autumn", is funny but also a huge show-off, haha. She LOVES to tease Qiu. But Athena's also genuinely worried about Qiu sometimes, because that kid is a huge people-pleaser.
When it comes to Tamarack, man... Athena totally puts this girl on a pedestal. She thinks Tamarack is amazing and pretty. And should Tamarack say anything positive about Athena, you can be certain the latter will go crazy internally. At 10, Athena doesn't realize she actually has a huge crush on Tamarack yet, though.
Step 2 -
At 14, Athena became a sort of troublemaker, she barely cares about rules. She's not mean but she grew to be more blunt and direct than she was as a 10-year-old, this and her current appearance make her seem unapproachable. However she kept her soft side, a side that she ironically doesn't even keep that much hidden but that you still have to deserve. If at 10 she would often have bandages because of her clumsiness, at 14, it's mostly because she's reckless. Some things that remained are her love for puzzles, creepy stuff and drawing, in fact, she started to get interested in visual arts.
In fact, the tough side of her personality grew when her first group friends with Qiu and Tamarack slowly fell apart. She couldn't do anything to prevent that from happening, so she felt like she had to toughen up. But to be honest, she's becoming tired of being the sole link between them, she's barely trying to now. Maybe Qiu and Tamarack won't become friends again. She has to accept it... but maybe Athena still has troubles accepting changes, no matter how old she is, after all.
Despite all that, Athena still treats both of them nicely. She still teases Qiu whenever she can (watch out Athena, the teasing could backfire on you). Her worries about them are still present too, but for different reasons than in step 1. Even 4 years later, Athena still retrieve Qiu's lost papers because they would NOT do it themselves. No matter what, Autumn remains her dear friend and the feeling is mutual.
Tamarack, aka "Tam", is her best friend! ... and the girl she has a crush on, Athena realized it now. Athena doesn't know if Tam feels the same way or not, though. Athena still thinks Tamarack is the most amazing and most talented person out there, she wishes Tam could see it too. She's highly worried about Tamarack potentially leaving Golden Grove at any moment but she tries to hide it from Tamarack. "Tam probably has enough of people walking on eggshells with her", she thinks. Athena dislikes Tamarack's parents for not only never being there for their daughter but also for making her situation so uncertain, only for their own interests (in her eyes).
Another feeling started to grow: jealousy. Athena will feel jealous of anyone who seems a bit too close to Tamarack. Does she think she's no match for Tamarack? Yes. Does that stop her from being jealous? No. She knows she has no right to be, Tamarack is a wonderful girl, it's impossible not to like her, but she can't help it.
Athena grew to be even more bothered by her lack of resemblance with her mother. Some times before turning 14, she started to dye her hair cranberry, just like her mom's hair color (let's say Opal didn't really like to see that her daughter started dyeing her hair at her young age, reaction Athena didn't appreciate, all she wanted was to look like her mom, what's the problem?). Ironically, while Athena wishes so hard to look like her mom, her relationship with her became somewhat strained. As if resembling a completely unknown guy wasn't enough. Living his best life nowhere to be found, uh? Resentment is the word here. Never towards her mom, even if their relationship is not that good at this point, but towards this guy who gave her his physical traits she never wanted and started to despise.
At least she became used to live in Golden Grove.
Step 3 -
At 18, Athena is not the rough troublemaker that she was at 14 anymore. Now she's more like a silly prankster, seemingly always up to something more stupid than before, although she remains reckless and blunt (but less on purpose and more out of habit). Of course, her interest in visual arts remained intact. Her liking for creepy stuff turned into a huge love for horror and its aesthetic.
Her relationship with her mom is getting better than it was 4 years ago. Athena grew out of the resentment she had for her "dad" during step 2 and learned to accept she may not look that much like her mom, but that it doesn't cancel the fact she's Opal's daughter no matter how she looks. Plus "some bits of [Opal] did end up in [her]" after all, right?
Athena's relationship with Autumn is what you could describe as "siblings by hearts", Athena does consider them as the sibling she never had.
Athena and Tamarack are still officially "besties for life", but little do they know that they both ended up falling in love with each other, plain and simple.
Her jealousy and resentment did tone down, but when she thinks back to her 14-year-old self, she feels bad, so bad. For being jealous of Tamarack's friends, for being resentful of a random donor and basically making many things about herself. "Man, I was such a prick. And for what?".
If when she was 14, Athena felt like she was no match for Tamarack because she put Tam on a pedestal, at 18, she now thinks she's simply not good enough as a person for Tamarack. She kind of "accepted" that if Tamarack only wants to be friends, then it's fine, she cannot force Tam to love her back. It's silly to think someone like her could be extra-special in Tam's heart anyway (girl if you knew.), it's nice enough to be her best friend.
Between step 2 and 3, Athena managed to put a label on herself: she's lesbian.
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