#god this show is emotional but at least i got someone who is making me cackle with these edits | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

steddieas-shegoes · 2 months ago

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i'm glad i get forever to see where you end

check all tags on and read if you prefer on ao3

rated e, minors dni

happy birthday to my wife in all but law, @messessentialist. this whole idea came out of nowhere and then just kept growing and growing, much like my love for you. anytime you're ready to live our rv life dreams, i'm ready.

i'm not gonna post any links here, but just know i had 8 tabs open of different fish and birds that can be seen in and around indiana lakes. i didn't have a particular lake in mind, but there are plenty to choose from so if it matters to you, i mostly looked at lakes in the northeast and northwest area of indiana.

title is lyrics from forever by noah kahan, which is a song you should absolutely listen to if you haven't before.

this work is for sadie. if she is the only one who reads this, then that's all that matters to me.

//////////////////////////////////////////

🎣🎣🎣🎣🎣

He stares down at the paper in his hands. He thought he’d feel relief, maybe a tiny bit of happiness that he’d never admit to. He even considered that he might feel a small speck of sadness the day his brother died.

But all Wayne Munson feels right now is disbelief and anger, and he doesn’t know where to hide it before Eddie gets home.

“God damn idiot. Couldn’t even have the decency to die of old age. Had to go and get killed behind bars,” Wayne mutters under his breath as he folds the paper and slips it back into the envelope, hoping that keeping it out of sight might help him come to terms with the emotions flooding his chest. “Bullshit.”

Wayne is tired. He feels exhaustion in his bones, even in his fresh retirement.

For some, retirement is a time to reflect on the life you’ve lived and experience the things you couldn’t while you worked and raised a family. For others, retirement never happens at all.

For Wayne, retirement is a reminder that he almost lost his nephew, his son, and the government had to make sure he wouldn’t say a damn thing about how.

He knows he shouldn’t complain, but damn he sure would like to.

And now he has to figure out a way to tell Eddie that his father got killed in prison. The letter doesn’t say much, just that it was violent and the person responsible for his death is facing further consequences. As if Wayne cares about that. As if it helps explain this situation to a boy who already lost enough.

He sighs as he grabs a beer from the fridge and glances at the clock. Eddie should be home soon. He can’t hold onto this for too long; The news will get out soon enough and he’ll hear it from somewhere else, somewhere who won’t take the time to see what Eddie needs.

He takes a sip of the beer, then another, hoping the next taste of the bitter hops will help him decipher what he needs to say to Eddie.

It’s almost a blessing that Eddie doesn’t arrive home for another hour, giving Wayne time to finish his beer and get started on dinner.

Wayne is already prepared to ask Steve to head out tonight instead of linger, using the excuse of making sure Eddie doesn’t need anything before he goes. Usually Wayne finds it endearing, and hopes Eddie can see what’s so obvious there, but not tonight.

But Steve doesn’t walk in with Eddie.

Eddie’s humming something when he walks in, setting his cane against the table before sitting down in a chair and looking at Wayne with a smile.

“Hey, Wayne. How’s your day been?”

Wayne knows he’s about to ruin Eddie’s day at the very least and he’s not sure if he wants that task. He silently curses Al Munson again, wishing for someone to show up and say it was a mistake just so he doesn’t have to do this.

“Oh, boring. Ya know I hate retirement,” Wayne says as he brushes off the stress, tries to figure out a way to lead in to the news naturally. “Too much time on my hands.”

“You love fishing, though. Thought that’s where you went all morning.”

Wayne nodded. “You’re right about that. Guess I just like keeping my mind busy.”

He’s met with silence, which leads him to looking over to the table, where Eddie is staring at the envelope the letter came in.

Why did he leave it out in the open like that? It’s clearly marked from the prison.

“What’s this?” Eddie asks, always curious to the point of danger. “Dad get out?”

This was one of the worst things Wayne ever had to do and that’s saying something. Vietnam wasn’t for the weak, losing the love of his life nearly killed him, and seeing Eddie in a hospital bed after just barely escaping death is something he’d feel deep in his chest for years. But this was up there.

“No, son,” Wayne sighed, turning away from the pot on the stove. Beef stew and bread with butter was one of Eddie’s favorites, but it took a lot of work. That didn’t matter as much as making sure Eddie had support. “They sent a letter to let me know your dad passed away.”

Eddie didn’t look away from the letter. He was playing with the rings on his fingers, replaced by Steve the moment he realized they were missing in the hospital.

“Did they say how?” Eddie finally asked, still not looking up at Wayne.

“They just said another inmate was responsible. I don’t know any details. I’m sorry, Ed. Really sorry.”

And he is. Despite the fact that Al was a terrible father and made Eddie’s life harder than it should have ever been, he knows Eddie must have a lot of complicated emotions.

“Welp!” Eddie claps his hands on his thighs before finally looking back up at Wayne. “Guess that’s that.”

“It…is?” Wayne is trying to watch for any sign of discomfort or sadness, maybe anger. He sees none.

“Yeah. Not like I’ve really had him around to feel much of a loss.” Eddie smiles. It’s not fake, at least not according to Wayne’s judgment. “You’ve been my dad more than he ever was.”

Wayne feels warmth spreading in his chest at the thought of Eddie seeing him as his parent. It makes sense, but he’s never outright said something. Sure, he gave him Father’s Day cards, often handmade. And yeah, he braved a fishing trip every year for Wayne’s birthday because he knew it meant a lot to him. There was that one time he’d called him Dad when he was on morphine in the hospital.

Hearing it changes something in Wayne.

“You really feel that way, kid?” Wayne asks, sitting down at the table across from Eddie.

“Yeah. I kinda thought you knew that already.”

“Guess it’s nice to hear anyway.”

They don’t say anything else. They don’t need to.

A few minutes goes by before Wayne stands up and walks over to the stew, giving it a stir and taking a spoonful out to test the carrots and beef.

“Is that beef stew?” Eddie asks as the scent hits him.

“Sure is.”

“You were worried about how this was gonna go, huh?” Eddie teases, smirk evident in his voice.

“A little. Can’t blame me, can ya?” Wayne decides it’s done and turns off the stove. He’s grabbing two bowls from the cabinet when the front door opens.

“You forgot the meds!” Steve yells as he runs into their kitchen with a bottle of prescription pills in his hand. He freezes when he sees Wayne dishing out stew. “Sorry. Uh. Am I interrupting?”

Wayne laughs around a sigh, reaching up to grab a third bowl.

“No, have a seat, son. Just gettin’ ready to eat.”

Eddie stands and limps his way to Steve, taking the pill bottle to pocket it before he leans further in his space.

“I’m an orphan!”

Steve’s jaw drops and Wayne does all he can not to laugh. It’s not funny, and he knows that Eddie’s probably not processing the news properly yet, but he’d rather laugh than cry.

“Sorry, what?”

“My dad’s dead. The biological one in prison. Rest in peace to the man who gave me, like, two useful skills and musical talent.” Eddie is still leaning into Steve’s space and Wayne’s watching, waiting.

“I’m sorry, Eddie, that sucks.”

“Nah, it sucks that he was such a shitty dad I barely even feel sad that he’s dead.” Ah, there it is. That’s why he’s doing better than Wayne expected. “I’ve got Wayne.”

“Damn right,” Wayne adds as he pulls spoons out of the drawer. “Let’s eat.”

Steve seems lost for a moment as he looks between Wayne and Eddie, unsure what else to say in this admittedly strange situation.

He finally grabs two bowls off the counter and sets them in his and Eddie’s spots at the table.

“Let’s eat.”

- - -

Two days pass before it really hits Eddie.

Wayne’s been waiting.

Nothing major happens. Eddie doesn’t break down in tears or lash out in anger. He doesn’t even mention saying goodbye in some way.

“We should go on a trip.” He says to Wayne while they’re eating breakfast.

“What kinda trip?” Wayne asks without looking up from his newspaper.

“Camping. Or maybe cabin-ing. Somewhere with walls and running water.” Eddie sounds breathless, like he’s run a marathon. Wayne finally looks up and sees the look in his eyes. “Could go fishing and roast marshmallows and swim and stuff. Like that one time.”

He’s talking about the trip they took together a few months after he moved in permanently. His mama was gone and his dad was sitting in jail waiting for sentencing on an armed robbery turned homicide. Wayne wanted to get Eddie’s mind off everything before he had to go back to school, so he took him up to a friend’s cabin at the lake for a few days.

Eddie’s never been an outside person, but they had fun there.

It was the first time Wayne felt like Eddie was his.

It may have been the first time Eddie felt safe with Wayne, too.

“I could see if that cabin’s available. My buddy doesn’t rent it out much anymore so I’m sure he’d be fine with us using it.”

“Could Steve come?”

“Sure.”

He agrees without a second thought.

This is Eddie’s way of seeking comfort in the people he has left, he can see it from a mile away. If Eddie needs Steve to come with them, it’s no skin off Wayne’s back.

Plus, Wayne can recognize how badly Steve needs to relax. He can’t believe someone as young as him walks with so much tension in his shoulders and lines on his forehead.

“Sweet. He’s never been fishing,” Eddie explains. “Or hiking in the right side up. At least not proper hiking. I guess we aren’t really doing proper hiking. I’m wearing jeans. Can’t be real hiking.”

Wayne smiles down at the sports section of the paper, nodding and humming in agreement when Eddie recommends something else for their trip.

- - -

Steve tries insisting on taking his car as his contribution to the weekend, but Wayne tells him they need the space in his truck for all their gear. It occurs to him when Steve just blinks back at him that Eddie didn’t explain how much is actually involved in all this.

But Wayne takes the time to show him some of the stuff he already has packed in the bed of his truck.

“I thought we were staying in a cabin. Why do we have a tent?” Steve sounds nervous when he asks.

“It’s not a full tent. Just a canopy to hang up to protect us from the sun if we get caught up somewhere during our hike.”

“Hike?” Steve turns towards the trailer, glaring at Eddie, who is too busy trying to figure out which of his sneakers to wear to notice. “He didn’t say anything about hiking. I don’t have boots or, or, anything!”

Wayne grabs Steve’s shoulders, looks him in the eye, and lets out a laugh.

“Do ya think Eddie would agree to go on a hike that requires special boots?” Wayne shakes his head. “Don’t think I could bribe him to go on anything but an easy trail unless that Lars guy from Metallica was at the end of it.”

“So I’ll be fine in my Nikes?” Steve clarifies.

“Better than.” Wayne turns back to the truck bed. “I grabbed an extra pole for ya, but it’s a bit short. We can make it work, though.”

Steve stares at everything piled into the truck. Wayne stares at Steve.

He can’t read him quite like he can read Eddie, not yet, but he’s got a feeling that Steve’s overwhelmed by the effort. Wayne doesn’t know much about his upbringing, but he can imagine it was pretty lonely what with his parents being gone more than they were home.

He’s certain Richard Harrington wouldn’t even know how to cast a line, let alone catch a fish.

“Wayne! Should I just bring both?” Eddie’s standing barefoot on the top step of the deck, holding two pairs of sneakers up.

“Sure, Ed.” Wayne looks down at his bare feet and wrinkles his nose. “Don’t forget your socks.”

“Does he do that a lot?” Steve asks, still staring at everything in the truck.

“Not so much anymore. When he’s got a lot on his mind, though, he forgets little stuff. Socks, underwear, eating.” Wayne could go on, but he’s pretty sure Eddie will kill him if he does. “He’s excited for this trip so it probably isn’t at the front of his mind.”

“Right, yeah. I noticed that.” Steve finally looks at Wayne, small smile on his face. Fond, Wayne would say. “He was so caught up on picking up the kids for game night, he forgot the games.”

“Sounds like our boy,” Wayne said, waiting for any kind of negative reaction from Steve at his words.

But Steve’s smile grew, his cheeks flushing a light pink. He looked over at where Eddie had been standing moments ago, and Wayne watches him.

“Steve, I feel like-“

“Wayne! We forgot hot dogs!” Eddie calls from inside the trailer, front door wide open allowing him to see Eddie’s movement by the fridge. “And buns!”

Steve looks back at Wayne. “I can run and get some while you finish up here.”

“I already grabbed them. Check that red cooler and the bag next to it,” Wayne gestured towards three coolers along the side of the truck bed. “He wasn’t payin’ attention when I told him I was packin’ everything.”

“Not surprising.”

“We got it all Ed! Throw your bag in and let’s go!” Wayne calls towards the trailer. “He’s gonna throw a fit about ridin’ in the middle, but that’s what he gets for bein’ a bean pole.”

Steve snorts as he walks over to open the passenger door. “He’ll live.”

Wayne thinks Steve’s gonna fit right in.

- - -

The cabin is off the beaten path. It’s actually off of all paths. They’re lucky that Wayne’s friend visited recently to clear bushes and trees away so they could get to it.

Forest surrounds it on three sides, the lake is in the back.

It’s quiet, an escape for all of them, but especially for Eddie. Whatever thoughts are trying to cloud Eddie’s mind might just float away in the fresh air if he manages to relax enough.

They unload the truck efficiently, bringing everything inside except the fishing equipment, which stays on the front porch so Wayne can load it on the boat before nightfall. He doesn’t bother locking his truck up; There’s no one around for two miles at least.

Steve’s loading things into the fridge and Eddie’s…

“Where’s Ed?” Wayne asks as he grabs his duffel bag to bring to one of the bedrooms.

“Said he wanted to see how cold the water is,” Steve shrugs, shoving the beer to the side so he can make room for Eddie’s Mountain Dew. “Told him it’s probably not that cold since it’s August.”

“Anything less than boiling is too cold for that one,” Wayne chuckles. “I’ll go load the boat.”

He goes out the back door, immediately locating Eddie at the water’s edge. At least he didn’t go far. He was a bit of a flight risk at the best of times and these weren’t really the best of times.

His shoes and socks are off, sitting in the mix of sand and rocks that make up the shoreline. The rocks are smooth, worn down over thousands of years of water and animals and people. Perfect for skipping across the top of the water, splashes disrupting the calm of a lake with few visitors this close to the end of summer.

Wayne showed Eddie how to skip rocks years ago, not on this lake, but a much smaller one that they’d visited for the day the summer before he started high school. It took him about 100 tries before he got it, but when he did, he’d beamed back at Wayne, proud of himself for possibly the first time in his life.

But he’s not skipping rocks now. He’s standing at the shoreline, where the small waves break against the sand, staring out at the horizon. Wayne is tempted to leave him be, but he can’t.

He walks up behind him, makes sure to clear his throat so he isn’t completely startled when Wayne stops right where the water stops. It licks right at the toes of his boots, but they’re his work ones, steel-toe.

Eddie turns and gives him a small smile.

“Sorry, just wanted to dip my feet in.” Eddie apologizes as if Wayne would care that he’s already finding solace in the solitude of the lake.

“Stay out here as long as you want, kid. You okay?” Wayne watches as Eddie’s hands curl into fists and then relax against his thighs.

“Yeah. Thanks for bringing me out here. I’ll help load the boat,” Eddie offers, already turning towards Wayne fully and taking a step out of the water. Wayne holds his hand up to stop him. “What?”

“I got it. You can help pack the cooler in the mornin’.”

Eddie shrugs and turns back to the lake.

Wayne watches him for another minute, silent so he doesn’t disturb whatever thoughts are brewing in Eddie’s head.

As he walks back to the porch to grab the tackle boxes and poles for the boat, he sees Steve watching Eddie out the kitchen window, concerned frown and furrowed brow on his face.

Steve doesn’t notice him.

- - -

The first night is Wayne making dinner while Steve and Eddie argue over which side of the queen sized bed they’re sleeping on. He can’t help but laugh at how quickly it went from calmly suggesting the other person sleeps on the window side to personal insults.

When he hears Eddie say something about Steve’s hair being too big, he shouts for them to join him.

Dinner is relatively peaceful considering the warzone that was their shared bedroom moments before sitting down to eat. Everyone enjoys the chicken and green beans Wayne cooked, barely leaving any for leftovers. They talk about their plans for the morning, and Steve offers to clean up after they eat so Wayne can have an early night.

It’s kind of him, but he already knows their arguing is just gonna wake him up if they haven’t settled on the bed issue.

“How about you take turns sleepin’ by the window?” Wayne asks before agreeing to an early bedtime. “That way it’s fair.”

“But who has to sleep there tonight?” Eddie asks, sticking his tongue out at Steve.

“Rock, paper, scissors?”

“That’s stupid.”

Wayne raises his brow at Eddie’s crossed arms. “Draw straws then.”

“We don’t have straws.” Steve looks around the kitchen, trying to find something they can use in place of straws, but fails. “It’s fine. I’ll take the window.”

Wayne can tell he doesn’t want to, and he’s pretty sure he can guess why neither of them is thrilled with sleeping directly under a window that looks out into a dense forest, but Steve’s a self-sacrificial kind of guy. That’s been clear for as long as Wayne’s known him.

He also knows that Eddie, even as stubborn as he is, wouldn’t let a friend feel uncomfortable.

“I’ll take it tonight.” Eddie offers.

“No, it’s okay. I can take it.”

Wayne rolls his eyes. “Y’all will argue over anything.”

Steve and Eddie both turn to him with matching grins. “Mhm.” They agree in unison.

“Eddie takes window tonight,” Wayne says. “Steve can have it tomorrow night. Whoever catches the biggest fish this weekend gets to pick on the last night.”

“Sounds fair,” Steve nods, turning to Eddie to see if he agrees.

“Sure. Fair.” Eddie stands and starts clearing the drinks from the table.

Wayne decides to leave before he gets dragged into a new disagreement. He’s only got so much patience.

He’s not surprised to hear them go out the back door after the sun sets, voices quiet, but still audible through Wayne’s open bedroom window.

They don’t go far, just past the porch, about halfway to the water.

“You know, my dad would never have done anything like this with me,” Steve states, only a small hint of bitterness in his tone. “He didn’t believe in bonding time or whatever. Thought that was for fathers and sons who didn’t have a family business to maintain.”

“My dad never did either.” Eddie says back, and Wayne’s heart stops in his chest. “Probably couldn’t have stayed sober enough to make the drive to a place like this.”

Wayne waits for Steve to say something, anything. He waits for so long, he’s tempted to look out the window and see if he can see them under the light of the moon.

“Your dad didn’t deserve you,” Steve finally says, quieter than they’d been before, like he didn’t want to disrupt the quiet night with his words. “And you deserved better than him.”

“I had Wayne eventually. I have Wayne now.” Eddie replies just as quietly. “And you do too, ya know.”

Wayne isn’t much of a crier. He’s only done it a handful of times. But Eddie’s words make his eyes well up and his throat burn.

“He barely knows me,” Steve tries to argue.

“He knows enough. You were there for the worst of my shit. You still stick around. You’re here right now even though you could’ve turned down his invitation.” Eddie sounds like he’s holding back tears now. “If you mean a lot to me, you mean a lot to Wayne. You’ll just have to get used to it.”

Wayne wishes he could be a part of this conversation, or at least be able to see them both. He’s respecting their space as much as he can, though. He’s laying in his bed and biting back tears the way any respectful uncle would.

“I’m not used to meaning so much to someone.”

Wayne isn’t sure he hears him right, his voice breaking halfway through, but Steve couldn’t have said anything else.

He should stop listening. This is turning into something else entirely, he thinks. He shouldn’t hear whatever Eddie says next.

“You mean everything to me.”

Wayne closes his eyes, holds his breath, hopes that if Steve takes it the way he knows Eddie means it, that this doesn’t turn into a real fight. He hopes that Steve’s reaction is kind, even if it’s not what Eddie wants.

Wayne’s almost grateful that he can’t hear what Steve says next. Whether it’s rude or loving, he doesn’t want to be a part of this moment like this. He can’t close his window, they’d hear it. He can’t leave his room, he’ll just be in view when they come back inside.

He waits one minute, two, three. He hears a twig snap and then quiet giggling.

He smiles to himself as he hears footsteps heading back towards the cabin.

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

Eddie wakes up with Steve’s arms around him and something bubbling in his chest.

Could be heartburn, or it could be the love that’s been growing inside him for months.

He remembers their conversation last night, looking up at the stars and listening to the leaves gently brushing against each other in the breeze, and he can’t help the blush on his cheeks. When Steve kissed him last night, he was pretty sure he was dreaming.

This wasn’t a dream, though.

They stayed up way too late. Eddie knew the moment he looked at the clock as they got into bed and saw 1:48 in bright red that he’d struggle today.

He could hear Wayne moving around the cabin, probably making coffee and breakfast for them since they’d need an early start for fishing. It wasn’t Eddie’s favorite thing to do, but Wayne loved it, and Eddie loved Wayne.

Steve groaned as he moved one arm above his head.

Eddie looks up at him, blushing harder when Steve’s half-lidded eyes are already looking down at him. He’s smiling, cocky if Eddie’s reading him right.

“Sleep okay?” Steve’s sleep-raspy voice asks, fingers gliding across Eddie’s upper arm in unknown patterns.

“Mhm. Not long enough,” Eddie admits. “Could stay in bed.”

Steve hums in agreement before seemingly realizing that Wayne’s already up. “Don’t think we can skip out on Wayne, though.”

This is why Eddie has a hard time pushing his feelings down for Steve. He’s done this before, whether he realizes he did or not.

In the hospital, the day after he’d woken up, Steve had stopped by to bring some clothes for Wayne since he refused to leave Eddie’s side. The kids had apparently been hounding him to take them with him, but he stood his ground and told them that Eddie needed time with just Wayne right now and that he needed rest.

A few weeks later, Steve could’ve easily taken Eddie home by himself, but insisted on waiting for Wayne to get off of work to do it.

Just a week ago, Wayne had forgotten a few things at the store, and when Steve overheard him grumbling about having to make another trip, he offered to go.

That’s just who Steve is.

Eddie loves him for it.

“Yeah. He’d be so bored without me scaring the fish away with my constant humming and leg jiggling,” Eddie agrees seriously. “Wouldn’t want him to miss me.”

Steve lets out a loud laugh, and Eddie hides his pleased smile in Steve’s chest.

He can’t believe he’s doing this right now, can’t believe Steve’s arm tightens around him, pulls him closer so all he can feel and smell is Steve.

“You could just stay quiet while we fish,” Steve suggests, as if Eddie hasn’t thought of that already. “Just for a little bit.”

“That sounds boring.”

Steve pokes Eddie’s cheek with his other hand. Eddie nips at his fingertip before Steve can pull away. They both laugh.

It’s easy.

A knock on the door interrupts the casual cuddling, but Eddie knows it’s not because Steve’s ashamed to be caught with him like that. Steve isn’t used to this being okay.

“You boys up?” Wayne’s voice is barely muffled through the door, something Eddie notes for later.

“Yeah!” Eddie calls back, though he probably didn’t need to speak more than normal volume.

Steve is tense below him. Eddie hates that.

He tries to soothe him by running his hand along his side, memorizing the bumps of his scars, keeping his breathing even so Steve would calm down. Wayne wouldn’t walk in without Eddie telling him he could, but Steve must’ve assumed he didn’t respect his space that much.

“Breakfast is done. Just made eggs and toast.” Wayne knocks once more on the door before they can hear his footsteps walking back to the kitchen.

Steve relaxes and sighs.

“You don’t have to do that.” Eddie still traces along the scar on his hip. “Wayne’s cool.”

“I know.” Steve goes to sit up, but Eddie holds him down. “Eddie, I know. It’s okay. I didn’t mean to react like that.”

“There’s a price to pay before you get up.”

Steve snorts. “And what’s that?”

“A kiss.”

Steve kisses the top of Eddie’s head.

“Unfortunately, I won’t be accepting that form of payment.”

Steve’s hand cups Eddie’s cheek, thumb rubbing slowly as he guides his face up to look at him. Eddie hopes he can’t feel the heat on his skin, but the odds aren’t great.

“One kiss.”

“Only one?” Eddie pouts.

“Don’t wanna get carried away when we’re supposed to be getting up.” Steve leans in until his breath is hot against Eddie’s lips. “So one kiss and then you let me leave so we can go fishing with your uncle.”

“Fine.” Eddie can’t help smiling into the kiss. It’s quicker than he wants, but it’s perfect. When Steve pulls away, Eddie groans and falls flat on his back. “What if we fake sick?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Steve laughs as he gets out of bed and tries to get changed into regular clothes.

Eddie watches him, can’t wipe the smile off his face as Steve nearly trips over his own pant leg. He doesn’t even care if Steve catches him looking, not anymore.

He gets to look now.

After Eddie’s confession last night, after their first kiss, and the second and third, and talking for two hours by the water, it was pretty obvious that they were skipping over that new relationship awkwardness. Eddie hadn’t quite said he loved Steve, and Steve hadn’t said it either, but actions spoke louder than words. The way they couldn’t stop touching, the way Steve looked at Eddie while he talked about his most recent adventure with Dustin, the way Eddie watched Steve throw rocks as far as he could into the depths of the lake, it was all love.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I’m never leaving this room.” Steve is looking at him as he buttons his jeans and Eddie is considering sending Wayne on his own.

He waited months for this, but now it felt like waiting another hour was too much.

“Looking at you like what?” Eddie asks innocently.

“Like you wanna eat me.”

“Well…” Eddie wiggles his eyebrows and taps the bed. “I could eat breakfast in bed if you get back in it.”

Steve walks over to the bed, leans over Eddie, gets close enough to nip at his top lip.

“Get out of bed.” He presses a quick kiss to Eddie’s lips before walking to the door. He leaves it open as he leaves the room without looking back.

Eddie curses Steve’s ability to get him to do anything, and reluctantly gets out of bed. He throws on his shorts, a tank top, and ties his bandana in his hair so he doesn’t have to worry about it sticking to his forehead.

When he gets to the kitchen, Wayne and Steve are staring out the window and whispering.

“I didn’t think we’d see a marsh hawk. Population’s been down for the last decade,” Wayne’s saying as Eddie walks up on his other side. “I’ve only seen one before and that was during a trip to Lake Michigan when I was 14 or 15.”

Eddie looks out the window, trying to see what they see. He’s not sure what a marsh hawk looks like, but he’s assuming it’s one of the birds in the nearby trees.

Steve wordlessly points it out to him.

“That’s a cool bird.” Eddie says at a normal volume. The bird spreads its wings out, acting as if it might take off. It’s beautiful, the white along its beak and chest a stunning contrast to its dark brown wings.

“It’s good luck to see one in some cases,” Wayne whispers as he turns away from the window. “Seeing one on your wedding day is supposed to lead to a long and happy marriage.”

“Too bad no one’s getting married here today,” Eddie remarks as he grabs a plate and starts to scoop eggs onto it.

“Not married. But still good luck,” Steve mutters as he follows Eddie. “So we just have to grab the cooler on our way out?”

Wayne nods. “And the bait.”

“I thought we used plastic stuff.”

“We use lures, but we put worms on there to get the fish to actually bite,” Wayne explains. “I’ve got plenty of stuff for bass, but I dunno how lucky we’ll be.”

Eddie nods along as he takes a huge bite of toast. “One time we forgot worms and had to use hot dogs.”

“Fish eat hot dogs?” Steve asks in surprise.

“Some fish settle for hot dogs. They don’t quite realize ‘til it’s too late that it ain’t their food,” Wayne shrugs. “But we got plenty of worms for this trip. Should be perfect fishing conditions.”

They all ate in silence after that, but Eddie could feel Steve’s nerves building the closer they all got to clean plates.

Steve didn’t have to say it for Eddie to know he desperately wanted to impress Wayne, especially now that they were…something. They probably needed to clarify exactly what they were at some point soon. They would. Eventually. Tonight maybe.

Or tomorrow.

“I’ll clean up if you boys wanna finish getting ready.” Wayne offered as he scraped the last of his eggs onto his fork.

Eddie took him up on his offer, jumping up to go brush his teeth and get his sneakers on.

“You comin’?” He asks Steve, who’s still slowly eating the eggs he drenched in ketchup.

“Just a second,” Steve replies with his mouth full. “You can use the bathroom first.”

Eddie nods and leaves the room.

He hears the sink in the kitchen running a few seconds later, and the hushed voices of Wayne and Steve having a whispered conversation. He could sneak back, try to listen in, but he thinks that maybe Steve needs this minute alone with him.

He finishes what he needs to do quickly, though, and admittedly sneaks back towards the kitchen quieter than he normally would, hoping to overhear something interesting.

But all he walks into is Steve laughing as Wayne smiles back.

Eddie doesn’t find that he minds much, as long as they’re both happy.

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

Being on the boat is different as an adult.

The last time Eddie fished with Wayne on a boat, he was barely shoulder height on him and 100 pounds soaking wet. It was a much smaller boat, though, barely fit two grown adults comfortably.

This boat, however, was built for a family of at least four adults. The awning covered half of the boat, so Eddie didn’t have to sit in direct sunlight when the sun finally rose.

Steve stood to the side, watching Wayne prep the lures and bait, casting his own line out and reeling it in until it was taut. Eddie went next, making a show of it just like he always did. Wayne doesn’t comment, just shakes his head and smiles fondly as he watches the water.

“Um,” Steve starts. “I guess it’s my turn.”

Eddie’s pretty sure Wayne knows Steve’s nervous. It’s hard not to tell with how quiet he’s been the entire ride to the middle of the lake.

Wayne sets his pole in the stand at the stern, and turns to Steve with his hands on his hips. “You saw how I cast mine?”

Steve nods, but doesn’t look sure. Eddie’s not really used to seeing Steve anything less than confident, even in the face of monsters.

It hits him the moment he thinks about monsters.

They’re on a lake. A lake very similar, though much larger, to the same lake that almost dragged Steve to his death. A lake he’d previously trusted, and no longer could.

Eddie doesn’t say anything, just subtly places his hand against Steve’s hip, offering whatever comfort he can. Steve won’t admit he’s scared, but Eddie doesn’t need him to.

Wayne sees it, Eddie knows he does. But because he’s the best uncle, he doesn’t say anything.

He raises a brow and then schools his features back to a comforting smile before showing Steve how to hold the pole so he can cast it comfortably and far enough out that movements from the boat don’t scare the fish from the hook.

Eddie watches, and he sees the nerves slowly easing from Steve’s shoulders, his forehead, and his arms. He relaxes inch by inch, and Eddie couldn’t be more in love.

Wayne steps back so Steve can cast his line.

When the bobber hits the water, Wayne smiles and pats his shoulder. “Good job, son. Now reel it in a bit so you can feel if something bites. Good. Now we just wait.”

Steve turns red at the praise and Eddie realizes that Steve probably hasn’t heard a “good job” from an adult in a very, very long time.

Eddie’s childhood was fucked, but at least Wayne was there cheering him on, showing him what it meant to be proud of your kid eventually. He’s pretty sure Steve hasn’t had that for most of his life.

“How long do we wait?” Steve asks after a few minutes.

The lake is near silent, and the water is so smooth it looks like glass. If Eddie leaned over, he’d probably be able to see his reflection. The gentle lapping of water on the side of the boat and the distant sound of birds in the trees lining the water’s edge fills the air.

“I usually give it 10 or 15 minutes before reeling it in. Check my bait, maybe change the lure if there’s no bites.” Wayne’s watching the end of Steve’s line as he speaks. “I used bass lures on all of ours, but we might change them up in a minute. See what else is out there.”

Steve nods and turns back.

Wayne doesn’t take his eyes off of Steve’s bobber.

Eddie watches Wayne curiously.

Anytime he’s fished with Wayne, he’s left Eddie to his own devices after showing him what to do. He watches his own line, and only steps in to help if Eddie catches something and doesn’t wanna touch the fish.

Wayne’s eyes widen just as Steve exclaims, “Hey! Look!”

“Reel it in!” Wayne shouts, setting his pole down again and rushing to stand next to Steve.

Eddie turns and watches as Steve reels in whatever he’s caught. Judging by the bend in the pole, it’s a decent sized fish.

“Shit, what if it breaks?” Steve asks, voice shaking with the effort of trying to reel in the fish before it escapes.

“It won’t. Keep going.”

When they manage to get the fish out of the water and into the boat, Steve is breathless.

“Look at that!” Wayne holds up the line, right above where the hook is caught in the fish’s mouth, beaming at Steve. “Our boy got himself a king salmon!”

Ignoring his mention of “our” boy, Eddie steps closer and grips Steve’s shoulder, shaking him just enough to make the boat rock.

“How can you tell?” Steve asks Wayne, reaching out to hold the fish up himself.

“You see all these black spots on his back and fins?” Wayne points at a few of the spots. “Other salmon don’t have this many spots or any at all. You keepin’ him or throwin’ him back?”

Steve looks at Eddie, smile falling as he suddenly looks unsure about what the right thing to do is. Before Eddie can say anything, Wayne wraps his arm around Steve’s shoulders.

“Either is fine with me. Could cook him up for supper if you wanna keep him or send him back to his friends with a new piercing.” Wayne looks over at Eddie. “Eddie ain’t much for seafood, but I make a mean baked salmon.”

Steve nods. “Yeah, think I’ll keep this one.”

Wayne pats his shoulder again before showing him how to unhook the fish safely. He opens up the empty cooler he brought and places the fish inside.

Wayne moves to grab the bait so Steve can set up again, and while his back is turned, Eddie takes a chance.

He leans over and kisses the corner of Steve’s mouth.

“You’re a natural,” Eddie whispers as he leans away again.

“Shut up.” Steve is blushing that same pretty pink that he was last night and earlier this morning. Eddie can’t look away. “Just lucky.”

Wayne catches two rainbow trout and Eddie manages to catch a small northern pike, which quickly gets thrown back when Eddie starts to make up a story about how it’s a teenager who got separated from its parents. Wayne shakes his head as Eddie carries on, but he’s used to it. Eddie never keeps his catch if he’s lucky enough to have one.

They relax as the day warms up, popping open cans of soda as the sun gets closer to the middle of the sky. It’s not about fishing anymore; It’s about soaking up the tranquility of their surroundings.

Eddie isn’t known for being still or quiet, but even he can let himself enjoy this. Every day since March has been about survival, and appointments, and witness statements, and lawyers, and moving, and the kids. He feels like he’s barely even had time to think.

So while he sits on this boat with two of his favorite people, he thinks.

He thinks about how different his life is now, and how different it could still be.

He thinks about how much Wayne has sacrificed for him for most of his life, but especially the last five months.

He thinks about how much he wants to tell Steve he loves him.

He thinks he’ll tell him tonight.

📼📼📼📼📼

Steve sits on the porch while Wayne cleans the fish, staying a good distance away so he doesn’t end up seeing things that’ll make him wish he left the poor salmon in the lake. Eddie’s inside doing god knows what.

He’s never been happier.

He does wish Robin could be here, but she hates the outdoors. She didn’t even like going on her family’s beach trip last month.

Plus, he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t have been able to have the alone time he needed with Eddie last night if she were here. Even though she’s been telling him to just talk to him for the last three months, she wouldn’t have caught on to his plan.

Feeling this much for Eddie isn’t new.

After the events of spring break, Steve took a long, hard look at high school and realized that at least part of the reason he was always staring at Eddie was because he was very interested. He started looking for any excuse to stick around in Eddie’s hospital room, and then offered to take him to appointments, and it continued from there.

Now, they hang out almost every day. Sometimes it’s with the kids, sometimes with Robin, sometimes alone.

Steve realizes that even before they kissed and fell asleep holding each other and flirted as much as possible all day, this was the best relationship he’s ever had. He needs to tell Eddie as soon as they’re alone.

“All done,” Wayne says as he steps onto the porch, the container of cleaned fish in his hand. “You ready to learn the secret to makin’ the best fish?”

Steve is quick to nod, excited that Wayne thinks he’s even worth the time it’ll take to show him. Wayne’s been so kind this entire trip, making sure Steve is involved and welcomed, makes him feel like he belongs in their little family.

As Wayne grabs everything they’ll need, Steve sees Eddie through their bedroom door, writing in a journal, tongue poking between his lips as he concentrates. Steve’s never seen this journal, but he can assume it’s another one of his many already filled with songs and campaign ideas.

“You done starin’ at Ed?” Wayne’s voice is quiet behind him, but still makes him jump with surprise.

“Wasn’t staring at him. Thought I saw a…um…bug?” Steve knows he’s been caught halfway through trying to lie, so he moves on. “Ready?”

“Are you?” Wayne raises a brow and smirks.

“Yes!” Steve puts his hands on his hips. “What are you implying?”

“Mostly that you’re too in love with my nephew to focus on what I’m sayin’.”

Steve feels heat in his cheeks, but he chooses to ignore it and pretend that he can distract Wayne from what he’s saying.

“So we’re frying your fish and baking my salmon?” Steve starts holding up some of the spices Wayne’s set out on the counter. He can feel Wayne’s eyes on him. “Looks like you like spice.”

“Steve.” Wayne sighs. “It’s okay to feel however you feel. I ain’t gonna judge.”

“Right. Yeah.” Steve turns to finally look at Wayne, who looks sad. He shouldn’t look sad right now.

“Eddie ever tell ya about Paul?” Wayne starts filling one pan with oil and the other with a few small pads of butter.

Steve shakes his head, watching closely.

“Paul was my boyfriend when Ed first came to live with me.”

Steve’s eyes widen as that hits him.

“Woulda been my husband had we been able to be married.” Wayne starts mixing flour, salt, and pepper in a bowl while he talks. “He was a long haul truck driver. Gone for weeks at a time. Stayed with me when he passed through. Came home one day to Eddie asleep in the bed we usually shared and asked if I’d been up to something.”

Wayne smiles fondly down at the bowl of eggs, buttermilk, lemon juice, and garlic he’d started mixing together as he spoke.

“Told him everything. Expected him to call it quits. He didn’t sign up for raising a troubled kid, especially not one who may not be okay with what we had.” Wayne stops and looks up at Steve. “But he just hugged me and said he’d follow my lead. Whatever was best for Ed was what was best for us. Ain’t sure I could ever find a love like that again.”

Steve can feel tears trying to form in his eyes, but he manages to bite them back. He’s pretty sure he knows where this is going, but he listens without interrupting.

“Ed didn’t take too well to him at first. Probably ‘cause he was in and out so much, didn’t get time to bond with him like I did. Paul was patient. Always so patient with both of us.” Wayne shakes his head and looks down at the counter before he looks up smiling again. “Ed came out to Paul first, ya know? When he was 13. He’d gone on a short haul with him over the summer and when they came back, they were thick as thieves. Paul told me that night that Ed had told him he liked boys and it changed their entire relationship. I was Uncle Wayne, but Paul was like a dad to him. Definitely more than his own dad ever was.”

Wayne looked over to check that Eddie was still in the bedroom, distracted by his writing.

“Paul started taking short hauls instead of long ones. Only gone three or four days at a time instead of 14-20. Thought it was so he could be close to Ed, since we’d kinda become our own little family.”

Steve realizes he’s holding his breath when Wayne sniffs.

“He’d gotten sick and didn’t tell us. Started out thinkin’ it was pneumonia, but it got worse. Doctor thought it was heart problems, but it was everywhere. Leukemia. Untreatable by the time they figured it out.”

Steve’s wrapping his arms around Wayne before he even realizes he’s doing it, letting the tears fall as he thinks about how much pain Wayne and Eddie must’ve gone through to lose someone so important to them.

“Ed was barely 14 when he passed. I think he took it harder than me.”

Steve can’t even imagine. Wayne lost someone he loved, but Eddie lost a father figure after losing his real father to things he should never have had to compete with. And now Eddie’s father was really dead.

All he really has is Wayne.

“Kid shaved his head in solidarity when Paul lost what little hair he had left,” Wayne huffs a wet laugh as they pull away from each other. “Couldn’t believe it when I got home from work and they were both bald as cue balls. Thought they’d lost it.”

Steve and Wayne are both laughing, and it’s probably going to draw Eddie’s attention, but he kinda hopes it does. He could use Eddie’s closeness right now. He needs to see that he’s okay, that this didn’t completely destroy him, that he went on anyway.

But all Eddie does is yell at them to keep it down, which just makes them laugh harder.

“And you never dated anyone else?” Steve asks as Wayne starts putting his fishin the egg mixture. “Not even for fun?”

“Nah. Once Paul was gone, I had to work more to pay the bills. What little time I had was spent with Ed. He was my priority, always.”

Steve wipes the tears from his cheeks as he watches Wayne drop the fish into the hot oil.

“What about now?” Eddie was busy with his own life now, and they’d received enough money from the government to cover their new trailer and have plenty leftover to cover bills. Wayne was retired and had plenty of time to start dating again.

“I got lucky with Paul. It ain’t fair to compare any future relationship to what we had and I think that’s all I’d do. I’m happy the way things are for now.”

Steve drops it for now, but he makes a note to ask Eddie about it soon. He’s surprised Eddie never mentioned Paul, or even the fact that Wayne was gay, especially when he came out to Steve and Robin while he was still in the hospital.

Wayne goes on to explain how long he keeps the fish in the oil before flipping them to make sure the cooking is even, and how putting them onto paper towels to cool drains too much of the grease.

As Steve watches him prep the salmon with a glaze he made from garlic, honey, and lemon juice, Eddie finally comes out of the bedroom.

“Smells like fish,” he says with a grin.

“That’d be the fish.” Wayne doesn’t even bother looking over at him as he leans against the counter. “Salmon is already a tender fish, so you can bake it to whatever you prefer. It should only take about 10 minutes on 400 unless you like it extra crispy, then you may wanna do it for 13 minutes.”

“Chef Wayne teaching you everything you need to know?” Eddie asks Steve, stepping close enough for Steve to feel the heat coming from his body.

“He’s pretty talented. Might need to consider opening a restaurant,” Steve teases.

“Wait ‘til you have his steak. So tender you could cut it with a spoon.”

“Don’t know what you’re after with your compliments, but I’d rather ya just ask for it.” Wayne checked the clock as he closed the oven door.

“I was just bein’ nice!” Eddie exclaims, throwing his arms up in frustration. Steve never noticed how Eddie’s accent changes the more time he spends around Wayne, but he smiles to himself when it slips now. “See if I give ya a compliment again, old man.”

Steve watches as they banter back and forth some more, both of them smiling and laughing the entire time.

It’s nothing like what Steve was used to. His parents never bantered, only fought. Anything that was big enough for discussion, was big enough to yell about. As Steve got older, he learned that staying quiet and letting them get it out would usually turn out better for him. Luckily, once he reached middle school, they didn’t bother coming home enough for him to worry about what to do when they were arguing.

He doesn’t remember a time when there was fun and laughter between them, not even when he was a young child. He can remember his mom dancing with him while his dad was gone on business trips, but the moment he arrived home, the air became thick with tension and her attitude became somber. He remembers one time when his dad let him sit on his desk while he worked, making paper airplanes and having a competition to see how far they could fly, but the moment the phone rang, he was hissing a ‘get out’ with no explanation for the abrupt stop to the fun.

Steve couldn’t imagine talking to either of his parents the way Eddie talks to Wayne, but he also couldn’t imagine receiving the love from them that Wayne so easily gives to Eddie.

And now that he knows another piece of their story, he can see how they’ve come to be like this, comfortable with each other in ways many kids never are with their parents.

Steve’s mind continues to wander throughout dinner, but no one calls him out on it. Maybe Wayne somehow communicated with Eddie that they’d had a serious conversation. Maybe it was just obvious that Steve was far away from the table. Eddie and Wayne chattered as they ate, and Steve let the constant echoes of their voices be the background noise to his thoughts.

“Stevie?” Eddie’s hand touched his cheek, shaking him out of the path he was lost on. “Wayne’s gonna take a walk. You wanna go?”

Steve smiles up at Eddie before looking down at his plate. He barely remembers eating, but he only has a few small pieces of salmon left.

“Sounds good.”

Eddie looks concerned, but Steve brushes him off. He looks around, and when he doesn’t see Wayne in the room with them, turns his face so he can kiss Eddie’s palm.

“Should we grab the bug spray?” Steve asks as he stands, pushing in his chair and grabbing his plate off the table to wash it.

“Wayne’s got it outside. Think he put enough on for all of us,” Eddie follows close behind Steve. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Just thinking.”

“About?”

“A lot.” Steve brushes it off so they can join Wayne. “Ready?”

Eddie nods and leads the way out of the cabin.

They ate an early dinner, so the sun is still high in the sky as they make their way down a trail that follows the lake’s edge. Eddie occasionally gets distracted by colorful rocks, holding them up excitedly for Steve and Wayne to acknowledge.

Steve knows the love he has for Eddie is written all over his face.

He doesn’t care to hide it.

Wayne’s quiet as they walk, occasionally pointing out a fish splashing in the distance or a heron standing in the water. He swats a mosquito away from Steve’s face, only for the mosquito to turn around and bite his hand. Eddie’s far too busy climbing over fallen limbs and branches of trees to notice what they’re doing.

“You boys should go for a swim when we get back. Water’s cool.” Wayne makes the suggestion without looking at Steve, who suddenly feels like he’s being studied under a microscope.

“Not sure if Eddie even brought a swimsuit.” Steve laughs it off, hopes they can go back to silence or change the subject.

“I’m sure you boys could figure something out.”

Thankfully, the topic gets dropped and Steve is left wondering if Wayne knows.

Sure, he joked about Steve being in love with Eddie earlier, but that wasn’t a confirmation that he knew they were together. He thought they’d been careful today, but maybe Wayne caught them when they kissed by the truck when Eddie was grabbing his wallet from the glovebox.

He doesn’t have time to think about it more because Eddie lets out a yelp and they can only watch as he falls on his ass into a muddy spot between two large rocks.

“I hate the outdoors,” he grumbles as he stands.

Wayne is laughing, but Steve is rushing over to make sure he’s okay.

“Are you hurt?” Steve’s hands are hovering over him, trying to figure out if he sees any blood. “Did you hit your head?”

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” Eddie replies quietly, holding his arms out as if trying to show proof. “My dignity may be a bit bruised.”

They’re interrupted by the hooting of an owl. It’s loud enough that Wayne shushes them and starts looking around at the trees surrounding them, trying to locate the creature.

It hoots again before Wayne locates it, pointing to a tree only ten feet away and to their right.

“Wow.” Steve says as he gets a close look at it, the white and tan feathers blending into beautiful patterns. “It’s so small. I thought owls were bigger.”

Eddie’s looking up at it, smiling.

To Steve’s shock, he’s the one who responds, not Wayne.

“It’s a northern saw-whet owl. They’re closer to the size of a robin than an owl you may be thinking of.” Eddie reaches for Steve’s hand and squeezes it once before letting it drop. “Paul taught me about all kinds of owls.”

Steve’s head snaps towards him. “You heard us this morning, didn’t you?”

“You weren’t quiet,” Eddie shrugged. “I used to be obsessed with nocturnal animals. He bought me a book about bats and owls for Christmas and went through it page by page with me.”

“I remember that book,” Wayne looks at the owl while he talks. “Paul said it made him nervous to go out at night.”

Eddie laughs. “He was convinced we’d get attacked.”

Steve can’t blame him. The longer he looks at the owl’s impossibly large eyes and spread wings, the more he believes he’s being hunted.

“Ready to head back?” Wayne asks after another minute, drawing his attention away.

“Wish I had a camera like Byers. Probably could get a good picture.” Eddie says as he starts to walk back the way they came.

Steve takes note to ask Jonathan about his so he can get him one for Christmas.

When they make it back to the cabin, Wayne excuses himself to take a shower and do a crossword before bed, which leaves Steve and Eddie to fill their time however they want. Steve thinks back to Wayne’s suggestion about going for a swim, but he’s not sure Eddie would want to now that the sun’s almost set.

He’s not even sure he wants to get into the lake after dark.

But it does sound appealing, especially with the layer of damp sweat coating his skin from their walk. And there is a light on the dock that would make it easier to at least see each other.

“Wanna go for a swim?” Steve asks Eddie as he sips on a soda.

“Now?” Eddie looks out the window in the kitchen, frowning at the darkness looming.

“Now.”

“It’s dark.”

“We can turn on the light at the dock. C’mon. Just a quick dip,” Steve nudges his shoulder as he starts walking to the back door, fully dressed.

“You’re not gonna change?” Eddie asks in disbelief.

“Don’t plan on wearing my clothes in.” Steve winks as he leaves, knowing Eddie will follow him even if he’s hesitant to do so.

Within seconds, the back door is closing and Eddie is on his heels.

“Are we seriously skinny dipping in the lake while my uncle is here?” Eddie hisses out, hand covering Steve’s forearm.

“I’m skinny dipping. You can do whatever you want,” Steve responds. “But I wouldn’t complain if you joined me.”

Eddie huffs beside him, but still follows him the rest of the way to the water’s edge. The light has a covered power switch to their right, but now that they’re in an open area by the water, they realize the moon is pretty bright.

Steve starts stripping off his shirt, then his shoes and socks. Eddie watches, probably trying to decide if he’s gonna join him or go back inside and pretend Steve isn’t naked in the water. When Steve pulls his pants off, Eddie sighs and starts untying his boots.

“Can’t believe you have me getting into another lake. Wasn’t the first time enough?” Eddie’s grumbling loud enough for Steve to hear, but quiet enough that Steve only catches every couple of words and has to use context clues for the rest. He can’t hold back a smile when he shoves his underwear down and leaves them on top of his pile of clothes.

Eddie is still grumbling as he removes his own clothes, enough that he’s distracting himself from realizing Steve’s already naked and waiting for him.

When he looks up, his eyes widen and his jaw drops open.

“You’re gonna catch flies like that,” Steve steps closer as he speaks, feeling more nervous than he expected to. “Probably should get in so the mosquitos don’t get us.”

“Right.” Eddie shakes his head, closing his eyes so he can focus. “Yes. Let’s get in.”

Steve grabs his hand and walks them both to the water. The water is chilly, but not uncomfortably cold. He knows in the next few weeks, the temperature will drop enough at night to cause the lake to be freezing cold. But right now, it’s perfect.

Being here with Eddie is perfect.

Eddie breathes out slowly as they keep walking further in, squeezing Steve’s hand.

“All good?” Steve asks when they’re waist deep.

“Yep. All good. How uh…how far do you wanna go?” Eddie’s looking out at what little they can see of the lake, even with the moonlight glistening off the tiny waves of the lake.

“Just a little more.”

Steve doesn’t take Eddie’s trust for granted here, knows that he’s asking a lot of him.

When the water is just below his collarbone, he stops.

Eddie is tense next to him, but doesn’t seem to be panicking.

“Okay?” Steve asks.

Eddie looks around and then settles back on Steve. “I’m okay.”

Something about the way he says it makes Steve pause, though.

“You can let it out if you need to, baby,” he offers. He’s not sure what it is specifically that makes him think Eddie’s on the edge of tears, but he wants to give him the chance to cry. “I’m right here.”

Eddie doesn’t sob, or cry, or do anything for a minute. They’re both looking out at the dark lake and the moon above, listening to crickets and a gentle breeze in the leaves of the trees nearby. Eddie’s breathing just stops for a few seconds and that’s all the warning Steve gets before he’s sniffling and talking.

“My dad was a piece of shit,” he starts. Steve is gonna follow his lead, and listen, and let Eddie tell him whatever he wants to. Even if that’s all he says. “He hated me. Pretty sure he hated my mom towards the end of her life, too. Anything that put attention on someone other than him was no good. That’s why he got involved with the closest thing Hawkins had to a mafia.”

Steve rubs his thumb against the side of Eddie’s hand under the water, prompting him to continue.

“He ranked pretty high with them so he got plenty of attention. Forgot that he had a wife and a kid. When my mom died, he temporarily got more attention from everyone. Made sure he looked like the mourning husband trying to be strong for the son he barely knew. Even at four and five years old I knew he was full of shit. But at least he was taking me with him sometimes, showing me cool shit. He got arrested when I was seven for petty theft and possession of drugs. Got lucky that the judge believed his sob story of being the only one who could take care of me.” Eddie scoffed. “Paid a fine with money he stole and had to do 80 hours of community service that his boss signed off on after a few weeks. Didn’t care that the only meals I ate were at school and the neighbor’s house when she saw me alone for dinner. Didn’t care that I never had school supplies or clothes that fit. Didn’t care that I missed school anytime I missed the bus, which was often because he never gave me an alarm clock to set to get up in time.”

Steve wants to cry, hearing how shitty Eddie’s childhood was, but he refuses to right now. He doesn’t want Eddie to stop talking.

“When I was nine, he taught me how to steal a car. I could barely see over the steering wheel, but it was the first time I made him proud.” Eddie clears his throat. “He got sent to prison when I was 11. I got put in the system because everything is a mess and Wayne wasn’t even listed as my uncle anywhere. Wayne heard about it all a few weeks later and didn’t stop pushing to have me in his care until they gave in. I’m surprised they put up so much of a fight considering they don’t usually care that much about poor kids with shit parents. Wayne fought for me and I didn’t even know how much he did until I was older.”

Steve glances over to see tears falling down Eddie’s face. He let go of Eddie’s hand to wrap his arm around his waist instead, pulling him against his side.

“He didn’t have to do that. He just knew what a piece of shit my dad was and apparently checked on me a few times a year without me or him knowing. And he told you about Paul.” Steve nods. “Paul was in and out a lot at first, made me suspicious. Thought he was up to no good and just using Wayne as a place to sleep when he wasn’t in the truck. But then he took me with him a few times over the summer and we got closer. I don’t think Wayne even knows how much that man loved him. He was gonna start working more local jobs sooner until I came into the picture and Wayne was struggling to keep up with bills. Long haul makes more money, so he stayed out. Made sure I had clothes and school supplies, made sure I ate three meals a day and had whatever snacks I wanted. Sent payments to the electric company before Wayne even got the bill so I never had to worry about sleeping through alarms or not being able to take a hot shower.”

Steve didn’t realize he was crying until Eddie reached his thumb up to wipe away a tear.

“He was my father in the ways that mattered to me, just like Wayne has been. Losing him was more painful than anything I feel about my dad dying now. All I feel now is guilt that I feel anything at all.”

Steve uses the arm wrapped around Eddie’s waist and the weightlessness the water allows to lift him up and guide his legs around his waist. He’s looking up at the man he loves, holding the back of his thighs, and wishing he could take every shitty feeling away with his words of comfort.

“You can feel however you feel. I’ll love you through it all,” Steve reassures him. Eddie’s breath catches at his words, and Steve knows he chose the right thing to say at the right time. “No one who cares about you is gonna judge you for having any emotion about your dad dying. If you wanted to stand in the middle of a table in the cafeteria at the school and cheer, I’d sit at the table and cheer you on. If you want to show up at his grave and scream and cry, I’ll hold your hand the whole time. So will Wayne. And so would Paul.”

Eddie sobs as he wraps his arms around Steve’s neck and hides his face against Steve’s neck. Steve can feel the wetness of his tears, can feel his own still falling into the water below. He doesn’t care how long they stay like that, doesn’t even care if this is all they do all night.

But only a few minutes later, Eddie is pulling back and looking down at Steve, hands playing with the wet ends of his hair.

“I didn’t expect any of this this weekend,” he admits. “I should learn to stop having expectations.”

Steve’s lips turn up in a half-smile as Eddie rests his forehead against his. “Better or worse than what you expected?”

Eddie snorts. “Better. Always better with you.”

Steve’s glad it’s dark enough to hide his blush, but he’s sure Eddie knows what he does to him by now. If he doesn’t, he will soon enough.

Eddie traces a line along Steve’s neck, gently poking at his moles as he watches his own movements. Steve holds him, lets him do what he wants, feels every touch like lightning.

“I love you,” he finally says, barely more than a whisper, like he’s unsure it’s okay, even after Steve’s confession. “I think I have for a while.”

Steve wants to kiss him, but this moment still feels like a part of Eddie’s monologue. He wants Eddie to lead now, to show him how to love him. Whatever he needs, Steve will give it willingly and gladly.

“How long until Wayne comes to make sure we didn’t drown?” Eddie asks.

“Probably not unless we’re still gone by morning.”

“As lovely as being in your arms all night sounds, I don’t know if I’d wanna stay in the water that long,” Eddie laughs as his legs tighten around Steve’s waist. Their mostly soft cocks brush against each other, making them both inhale loudly. “A little longer might not be so bad, though.”

Steve’s finding it harder not to kiss him, not to let his hands wander from Eddie’s thighs, up to his waist, back to his ass. He resists, but Eddie shifts his weight again and everything gets harder.

“You’re killing me.” Steve groans, letting his head fall back so he can look up at the stars in the sky instead of the ones in Eddie’s eyes.

“Look at me.” Eddie’s tone’s shifted to something serious, still adorned with an affection Steve can’t believe he gets to hear. Steve looks at him with his lips parted and unblinking eyes. “I wanna be yours. Will you let me?”

Steve nods. That’s all he can do.

Eddie’s lips are against his, gently coaxing them apart further so he can slip his tongue inside. Steve’s not even thinking about how he hasn’t brushed his teeth or eaten a mint since supper, the warmth of Eddie’s hands circling behind his back and rubbing his shoulders enough of a distraction even without his tongue gliding against the roof of his mouth.

Eddie’s hands are slow, but on a very clear path downwards as his tongue traces Steve’s bottom lip. Steve lets his own hands slip to Eddie’s lower back, lets a finger trace up and back down his spine.

Eddie shivers in his arms.

“Cold?” Steve whispers.

Eddie shakes his head. “Feels good.”

So Steve does it again, with more pressure, hoping Eddie gets the hint.

When Eddie’s hips grind forward, he knows he did.

They’re both nearly fully hard now, lips meeting again, hungrier and biting. Their moans vibrate between their chests, every movement rippling the water around them.

Eddie’s rocking his hips back and forth, friction against their cocks not quite enough to do more than get them more worked up.

The water doesn’t feel cool anymore, Steve’s body already adjusted to the temperature the moment Eddie’s hands were on him.

“Can I touch you?” Eddie asks, bringing Steve out of his thoughts about doing this in his pool when they got home. His hand is flat against Steve’s stomach, fingertips dragging through his happy trail.

“Want you to feel good too, love,” Steve trails one of his hands to Eddie’s front, stopping for a moment on the angry scars covering his side. “Together?”

Eddie slides impossibly closer, wrapping his hand around both of their cocks at once. Steve’s legs would’ve buckled without the help of the lake holding him up.

“Together is good,” Eddie smirks as his hand works them both over, squeezing at the tip the way Steve likes.

Steve had every intention of helping, but he’s doing all he can to keep his feet on the sandy ground and Eddie’s legs wrapped around his waist. He whimpers as Eddie leans in to kiss him slowly, a contradiction to his hand speeding up around them.

“Eddie, I’m…close.” Steve pants against his lips when he pulls back for air. His toes are curling in the sand below, and the small waves around them are splashing against their necks as Eddie’s hand moves faster. Steve’s bucking up into his touch, doesn’t care how desperate he seems.

“Me too, Stevie.” Eddie reassures him, just as breathless as Steve is.

Despite the words spoken and the increasing heat coiling in his belly, Steve gasps in surprise when he comes. He’s even more surprised when Eddie is right behind him, whispering Steve’s name repeatedly as his grip around them tightens then loosens.

Chests heaving, legs shaking, they stare at each other in the glow of the moonlight.

“I normally last a lot longer,” Steve breaks the silence.

Eddie breaks into loud laughter, head falling onto Steve’s shoulder before he realizes that the water is too high to do that without getting wet. He drops his legs and stands, keeping his arms wrapped around Steve’s waist for stability.

“New record for me, too, baby.”

“Next time, we’ll take our time.” Steve promises not only Eddie, but himself. He knows he has better self control than what Eddie just witnessed.

“You wanna head inside and take our time there?” Eddie’s smirking at him, fingers playfully teasing his sides under the water.

“Not sure I can be quiet enough.”

“Even if you bite a pillow?” Eddie pouts.

“I can be pretty loud,” Steve laughs, poking his bottom lip back to normal. “Plus, I’d like to be in one of our own beds when we ma- have sex.”

“Oh my god. Were you gonna say make love?” Eddie is squeezing his arms around him, lifting Steve up so most of his chest is out of the water. Steve’s hands rest against his shoulders, fingertips pruned from being in the water for a while.

“Maybe I was.” Steve knows he’s a sap. He doesn’t care if Eddie thinks it’s silly or stupid, but he does wanna avoid blowing this before it even has a chance to begin.

Eddie must see something in his eyes to keep him from pushing it more. He lets him back down slowly, soft smile on his face.

“I love that you care that much.” Eddie kisses the corner of Steve’s mouth. “I promise we’ll hold off on making love until we’re back home.”

Steve smiles shyly back at him.

“But I wouldn’t be opposed to getting my mouth on you after we shower.”

Steve smacks Eddie’s arm and rolls his eyes.

“You’re ridiculous. I love you.”

“You really do, don’t you?” Eddie sounds awestruck, like it’s suddenly hit him that this is happening, that Steve feels this much for him.

“I really do.”

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

Waking up in Steve’s arms for the second morning in a row felt too good to be true.

Most of this trip had felt too good to be true. Last night definitely felt like a dream.

He lets his eyes track over Steve’s bare chest, his neck, his lips pouting out as he sleeps. His eyelids are fluttering, but he’s still asleep, probably coming out of a dream.

Eddie’s fingers trace what’s left of the scar around his neck, touch light enough that Steve wouldn’t feel it in his sleep. He thinks about Steve’s bravery, how he dived head first into everything, be it protecting people from monsters or falling in love. Eddie knows Steve went without medical care after most run-ins in the Upside Down, and had only gotten some last time when Wayne insisted he do so while Eddie was in surgery.

The neck scars faded after they were patched up by a nurse, but many of his other wounds were deeper and infected, leaving a permanent reminder on his back and sides much like Eddie’s.

He traced along the outer lines of one of the scars shaped like a heart on his chest. Steve insisted it was just a weird oval, but Eddie insisted that it was a heart over his heart.

His chest hair has grown back in around it, nearly covering it up if you didn’t look close enough.

Eddie is close enough now.

It’s definitely a heart.

“Not sure how I feel about you staring at my chest that close,” Steve’s raspy voice fills his ear and he looks up to see Steve’s sleepy eyes looking at him. “Max at least had the decency to look from a distance.”

“Ha.” Eddie fake laughs. “I was just admiring your bountiful chest hair and the heart you wear on your sleeve.”

“It’s not a heart,” Steve groans as he covers Eddie’s head with his arms, pulling him on top of him. “You’re just blinded by love.”

“Who knew I’d be the optimist in this relationship?” Eddie breathes against Steve’s lips.

“Probably everyone who’s ever seen me in a relationship.” Steve kisses him quick, just a peck. “Let me up.”

“You’re the one who put me here.” Eddie doesn’t move. “Take me with you if you need to go so badly.”

“Eds, c’mon. I gotta brush my teeth.”

“So do I.”

Steve sighs. Eddie smiles.

“Fine.”

As Steve stands from the bed, Eddie wraps his legs around his waist, a mirror image to their time in the lake. Eddie’s not actually expecting Steve to carry him more than a few steps, but he blushes when he makes it all the way to the bedroom door.

“Still wanna come with me?” Steve raises his eyebrows like he knows Eddie didn’t expect him to take it this far.

“Can you seriously carry me down the hall?”

Steve stares blankly back at him. “I carried you for almost a mile when we got out of the Upside Down.”

“Touché.”

Steve manages to open the door with one hand before it goes back to Eddie’s leg, hoisting him up further so he has a better grip. Eddie just stares down at Steve’s face in amazement.

“Hey Wayne,” Steve says as they pass Wayne’s room. “Sleep okay?”

“Uh huh. There a reason you’re carrying the prince?” Wayne asks, causing Eddie to turn his head and scowl. “Wake up grumpy?”

“Woke up lazy.” Steve responded as he continued on the journey to the bathroom.

Once there, Steve set Eddie down on the floor and handed him his toothbrush. They brush their teeth together, smiling when they catch each other's eye in the mirror.

“Will you kiss me for real now?” Eddie asks after they’ve finished.

“Are you gonna walk to the kitchen by yourself or will I have to carry you?” Steve retorts.

“Your kiss will give me the power to make it.”

Steve snorts a laugh and leans in, his palm resting against Eddie’s jaw to pull him the last inch or so. The kiss is nothing like their back and forth. Steve consumes him, and Eddie lets him.

He doesn’t know how long they stand there, but he thinks it must be longer than they should.

Wayne clears his throat from the doorway. “Didn’t realize this was a part of brushin’ teeth these days.”

Eddie leaps away from Steve, panicked at the thought of Wayne knowing suddenly. He’s been out to Wayne for so long, he forgets that others probably aren’t comfortable being so open. Steve especially, who’s mentioned before that he wasn’t sure if he wanted to come out to everyone until he was sure they’d be okay with it.

“Relax, Ed. I clocked Steve months ago.” Wayne pushes past them to grab his toothbrush and toothpaste. “Move your relations outta here.”

“Relations?” Eddie gags. “Way to ruin the moment.”

“Sorry to ruin your delicate sensibilities. Get out.”

Steve pushes Eddie out of the small bathroom before he can respond. Eddie decides to focus on Steve’s hands on him instead of arguing further.

“Should we make breakfast?” Steve asks as they walk back to the bedroom to get dressed.

“I shouldn’t ever touch an oven, but I’ll watch you lovingly while you make breakfast, darling,” Eddie bats his eyelashes at Steve, who throws his shirt at him. “That’s not very nice. Did I not, and I quote, suck the soul-“

Steve’s hand covers his mouth while he sputters to cover Eddie’s voice from traveling out of the room.

“Jesus, the mouth on you.”

“That’s what you said last night.” Eddie’s words are muffled under Steve’s hand, but they both laugh. “I can make toast.”

“I’ll make the rest.”

Eddie spends the morning touching Steve as much as possible.

He spends the afternoon sneaking kisses and holding him in the hammock set up on the porch thanks to Wayne’s creativity.

He spends the evening watching Wayne and Steve fish while he drinks a beer and hands them whatever they need.

This is a peace that may only last until they leave tomorrow, but something tells him that this is only the beginning of a future Eddie never could’ve pictured for himself.

🎣🎣🎣🎣🎣🎣

five years later

Wayne slams the truck door a bit harder than he means to. The rain just started coming down harder and he wanted to get his bag in the cabin before it got worse.

When he enters the front door, the scent of freshly baked cookies wafts through the air and he smiles.

“Made it, boys!” He yells, though he’s pretty sure speaking at a normal volume would’ve been enough. The cabin hasn’t changed much, but Steve insisted on opening up the front portion so it felt more welcoming.

“Wayne!” Steve exclaims as he pops up from behind the counter of the kitchen. “You just missed Eddie. He went out to the trail.”

Wayne gives Steve a tight hug. At Steve’s frown, he laughs. “Sorry ‘bout the wet clothes. Started raining the last couple miles in and got heavier just as I was leavin’ the truck.”

“Oh no.” Steve groaned.

Just as he spoke, the back door slammed open and Eddie dropped his camera bag on the floor.

Wayne and Steve both took in the sight of him, drenched from head to toe, dripping onto the tile floor, and laughed.

“I hate the outdoors.”

“You’re a nature photographer. You hate the rain.” Steve walks over to him, still laughing under his breath. He picks up the bag before leaning in to kiss his cheek.

Wayne watches the exchange, fighting tears back at the reason he was invited to their cabin this weekend.

Eddie was proposing to Steve and wanted Wayne to be there to capture it with his camera. He didn’t care that Wayne was an old man who could barely operate a camera, he just wanted someone to do it.

He knew Eddie was also a little nervous and having Wayne there would help keep him calm.

Why he was nervous, Wayne didn’t know.

They couldn’t legally get married, but they might as well be anyway.

“Wayne!” Eddie bounces over to him and throws his arms around him, forgetting for a moment that he’s soaked. “You’re here!”

“I’m here. I’d like to be less wet, though.”

Eddie backs up and Wayne pats his shoulder.

“Both of you should go get changed. Dinner’s ready in ten minutes.” Steve interrupts on his way to put Eddie’s camera bag in their room.

“Yes, dear,” Eddie replies. Steve turns and glares for a moment before continuing on his way. Once he’s out of sight, Eddie sighs. “God, I love that man.”

“That’s why I’m here, ain’t it?” Wayne playfully shoves at Eddie’s arm. “We better listen to him. I’m starvin’ and I think he’d make us fend for ourselves if we show up at the table dripping wet.”

As Wayne changes, he can hear Steve laughing in their room, Eddie talking about something he saw outside in the usual dramatic way he spoke. He thinks back to the first time he brought his boys here together, how hushed they tried to be, how hesitant.

He looked over at a photo Eddie framed for this room so Wayne had something when he came to stay.

Paul was smiling at the camera, arm wrapped around Eddie’s shoulders, Wayne looking at both of them with a smile. He remembers laughing right after the picture was taken, and giving in and buying them both cotton candy. They insisted it wouldn’t make them sick, then proceeded to both rush to the nearest garbage can after they got off the Gravitron at the fair.

“Wayne! Steve’s bullying me!” Eddie yells.

“You probably deserve it!” He yells back.

“Unbelievable!” Eddie screams.

“Ha!” Steve yells.

Wayne shakes his head as he makes his way out to the chaos he chose to be a part of this weekend.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson #stranger things #friends to lovers #getting together #fluff #good uncle wayne munson

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osarina · 8 months ago

Text

ᡣ𐭩 YOU AND ME (ALWAYS FOREVER)!

FEATURING: dark era!dazai osamu

SUMMARY: more than friends, not quite lovers. that's been your relationship with dazai osamu for as long as you can remember. you didn't want to push him, and you gave him plenty of chances, but there's only so long you can wait for someone. you thought you would be better off moving on—you were wrong, of course. (wordcount: 4.8k; sfw; angst (???) but with a happy ending)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: dark era dazai </3 my heart, i got a sudden urge to write for him and i wanted it to be fluff but then i got this idea and just had to go with it (warnings: fem!reader, smoking & drinking, suicide attempt mentions)

In your defense, you were never dating Dazai Osamu.

Not for a lack of trying on your part, of course. You’ve made your interest in him clear since you met him at sixteen during the Dragon’s Head Conflict, when Mori Ougai pulled you back from where you were stationed in Kyoto dealing with his associates to help with the declining situation in Yokohama. And you’d thought he felt similarly to you. You really did. The two of you had become inseparable within weeks of knowing each other, such a swift and strong connection that it almost felt unreal. You’d heard rumors of him, of course, before coming back to Yokohama—the infamous Demon Prodigy that Mori had brought in and groomed into becoming his heir, ruthless and cold and so terrifyingly intelligent that he had the entire upper echelon of the Port Mafia on edge.

By the time you got back to Yokohama, he’d already had a heavy reputation following him, dark shadows clinging to him like a second skin. Demon Prodigy. Black Wraith. So many monikers attached to him, but he never really felt like the monster that everyone claimed him to be.

He and Nakahara Chuuya had been the one sent to retrieve you from Yokohama Station, an area very close to the heart of the gang conflict, and even from the first meeting, he’d always been… well, you’re not going to say normal because he’s not normal. He’s always had an unnerving air about him, eyes a bit too cold and dark, smile a bit too teethy, but he’s always come across as just another kid your age. Maybe a bit lonelier than most, which could be off-putting to other people, but it never bothered you. And yes, you’ve seen the way other members of the Mafia treat him—they’re scared of him, go to extreme lengths so as to not cross paths with him, but you’ve never seen him in the same light they do.

Well, not until recently, at least.

Again. In your defense, you were never dating him.

But you’d known he cared about you as more than a friend. And you’d cared about him as more than a friend too. And you waited. You waited almost two years for him to say something. You didn’t want to do it yourself, you know Dazai is flighty and he’s not used to emotions, and you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, but god, there’s only so much waiting you can take before you start to give up.

When the two year mark hit, you’d become convinced that Dazai was never going to act on his feelings for you; instead, he’d prefer to wait it out until they passed, and if they never did, he’d just pretend they didn’t exist at all. You can’t really blame him, the Mafia is not a place conducive for relationships, it’s only a matter of time before your luck runs out and one of you end up dead by a bullet through the head or captured by the enemy, and the thought of getting attached to someone only to lose them is enough to scare anyone away.

But you don’t want to live your life in fear, no matter how short it may be, and you also don’t want to live it alone. So when an opportunity arose at a cafe near the main headquarters, where you met a civilian around your age who showed immediate interest in you, you jumped on it. And it’d caught a lot of people off guard—Kouyou was surprised, Chuuya was baffled and questioning what a civilian could possibly have that interested you, even Mori gave you a double take and an odd look the first time he overheard Elise interrogating you about your new boyfriend.

But no one took it as poorly as Dazai.

Your throat feels tight as you remember the hurt expression that crossed over his face when you told him. It was so brief and so foreign of an expression to see on his face that you’d thought you’d imagined it, he was quick to school his expression back into a cold and closed-off one (one that he’d never directed toward you before that moment), but there was no mistaking the way the corner of his lip twitched and the way he suddenly couldn’t meet your eyes.

How nice, he’d told you, voice frighteningly icy, acidic, even, before he made a half-assed excuse about a mission that you knew he wasn’t assigned to. And it was so unlike him to offer himself up to handle missions, usually Mori has to force him with threats of giving Chuuya his executive position for him to do anything that makes him extend the barest amount of effort . But he did, and he handled it, very bloodily and uncharacteristically inefficient, as if he was releasing all of his pent up rage onto the unfortunate souls who happened to stumble into Port Mafia territory.

You were never, at any point, dating Dazai Osamu.

You think you’ve told yourself it hundreds of times over the past three months, throwing yourself into your work and enjoying a relationship with a boy who clearly was invested in you and cares about you in a way that Dazai Osamu would never allow himself to admit. You also think that Dazai Osamu has no right being as bitter and angry as he is—you gave him two years to come to terms with his feelings and make a move, you’ve made your own subtle hints that he promptly ignored. If he wanted to be with you, he blew his chance a hundredfold, and he can go screw off if he thinks he can be upset about it only after you’d found someone else.

Which is what he did, pretty much, and it was a lot harder than you expected—going from talking to him every waking second of every day, seeking him out whenever you have free time and vice versa, to only seeing him during the joint meetings between the executives and sub executives, where even then, he wouldn’t even spare you a glance. It was hard, and deep down, you don’t think being able to experience an actual relationship was worth losing your best friend, but the damage had already been done by that point, so you could only lie in the bed you made.

And you did enjoy the relationship. The boy you’d met was sweet. He was good. He was impressively smart—a government and law major at one of the most prestigious universities in this part of the country—and humble to a fault.

But he wasn’t Dazai.

You knew in your heart that you didn’t want sweet or good, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise. You didn’t want the type of smart that he was, top of his class and on track for law school, seeking out a job as a public defender in Tokyo. You wanted the type of smart Dazai was, wicked and devious, putting together vicious and efficient strategies to take down enemies of the Mafia, on track for taking over the position as boss in the future. You wanted him for all of his twisted moralities and questionable thoughts.

And it was unfair to you, and it was unfair to Dazai, and most importantly it was unfair to the boy you kept leading on, that you’ve refused to acknowledge this for as long as you have just for the chance of experiencing a real relationship.

Which is why you stand here now, outside the infamous Bar Lupin that you know Dazai has been drinking himself into oblivion at everyday for the past three months, notably single and possibly about to meet your end at the hands of a drunken and scorned Mafia executive.

You think you must look like a fool right now. You’ve been standing right outside the door in the rain for fifteen minutes debating on whether or not you should actually go in. You’re nervous, and that makes you sad because you’ve never been nervous to talk to Dazai before, and you’re not nervous because you’re scared of him, you’re nervous because you don’t think you have the balls to actually confront him, knowing that you’d genuinely hurt the boy that everyone claimed didn’t have the emotions to be hurt. He let you in when he doesn’t let anyone in, and you chose to be careless and you chose to give up, and you hurt him.

And you remind yourself again: you were not dating Dazai Osamu. You remind yourself that you gave him chances, he had opportunities, and he chose not to take them. You remind yourself that he’s just as at fault as you are for the falling out, but you can’t help but also remind yourself that he was the one that came out the most hurt by the situation. Yes, him cutting himself off from you was upsetting, but you didn’t have to watch him go around happy in a relationship with someone else. He did.

With that thought in mind, you push the door open to the bar. A soft bell rings above you and instantly, three heads swivel in your direction: the bartender, and two men that you recognize as Sakaguchi Ango, one of the Port Mafia’s special intelligence agents, and Oda Sakunosuke, who you only know through Dazai’s high praise of the man from when the two of you were still on speaking terms. The only person in the room who matters to you doesn’t even bother to look to see who entered the bar, one hand circling the glass of whiskey in front of him while a cigarette dangles from the other. You watch as he lifts it to his lips to take a long drag, head falling tilting back to look up at the ceiling as he exhales a cloud of smoke, seemingly unbothered by your presence.

Already, you feel as if you’ve made a mistake, but you force yourself to continue.

The bartender nods his head in respect to you, although you can’t help but notice he flashes a wary look to Dazai. You wonder, pitifully, how much he’s said about you in this place. Sakaguchi and Oda share a look with one another. Both of them speak a low murmur of your name, inclining their head dutifully—you’re not quite an executive yet, but with the Piano Man of the Flags dead, you and Chuuya are fighting for the next spot to open up. Chuuya will likely be the one to get it, which you think he deserves from all of the heavy lifting he’s done on operations the past two years, but you feel a bit awkward when they give you your due respect when you're here with your tail between your legs trying to talk to Dazai.

Sakaguchi and Oda take their leave when you arrive, giving short goodbyes to Dazai, telling them that they’ll see him another day, and the bartender makes a fumbled excuse about going to the back to restock, leaving you alone with Dazai. Internally, you wither just a bit because you think if they’d stayed, Dazai might keep a handle on himself because you know he views Oda highly; instead, they left you in the lion’s den alone. Which you might deserve, but you digress.

You let out a quiet puff of air as you make your way over to the bar stool next to Dazai, taking a seat in it carefully. Still, he doesn’t look at you, but you look at him and the aching in your chest returns tenfold as your gaze sweeps over him fully for the first time in months. During the joint meetings between the executives and sub-executives, you were always sure to keep your glances short and sweet, not wanting to risk any lingering looks, but now, you can look at him in his entirety for the first time since that fateful discussion three months ago.

He hasn’t changed much. Or, well, that’s a lie. He’s definitely changed. The circles beneath his eye are darker, his expression a carefully constructed blank mask. You think he might’ve lost some weight, his coat has always been big on him but the way it hangs over his shoulders now is looser than it was before. If it weren’t for the way his fingers were tense around his glass of whiskey, you’d have thought he was entirely unperturbed by your arrival.

You don’t know what to say, and you know you need to be the first to speak because you’re the one that showed up here to talk to him, but now that you’re sitting in front of him you’re floundering for words. You could just come out and say that you broke up with your boyfriend, but you feel like that would be a bit weird, and he’d probably laugh in your face and make a comment about how he doesn’t care. You could ask him how he’s been, but you think he might genuinely put a bullet in you for trying to make small talk with him like that right now.

The longer you stay silent, the more awkward it becomes, and you want to cry because you’ve never been awkward with Dazai before, and for a brief second, you wonder if things really have changed too much to go back to how they were.

Finally, you decide to just come out and say, bracing yourself for the inevitable derisive words that are going to leave his lips. “I broke up with him.”

Dazai’s scoff is loud and instantaneous, you bite your tongue, eyes sliding shut as you turn to face ahead instead of looking at him. Cowardly, you know, but you don’t want to see the sneer on his face when he asks you why he should care.

But he doesn’t say that. He doesn’t say anything at first. If you were looking at him, you’d see the way his cold expression shifted into a more conflicted one, still staring ahead because he can’t bring himself to look at you. You count each passing second, and it’s agonizing waiting for him to speak, a part of you thinks that maybe he won’t, and you’ll just have to leave the bar with your tail between your legs, humiliated.

But then he does.

“Why?” he finally asks coolly, and your eyes snap open and your gaze slides over to him when you realize he did not, in fact, hit you with the derogation you expected.

He still isn’t looking at you, and you watch as he lifts his free hand back to his lips, taking another long drag of his cigarette as he waits for your response. You swallow thickly when you try to figure out what to say next.

What you want to say is ‘because he wasn’t you,’ but you’re not ready to bare yourself vulnerable in front of him like that when he’s still so unpredictable. Just because he didn’t immediately hit you with the harsh words you expected, doesn’t mean he isn’t going to lure you in just to slap you in the face with it, which is how you’re sure he perceived what you did three months ago.

Rather, you say quietly: “He was boring, I guess.”

It’s a lie. Well, a partial lie, at least. He was a good guy, he was just boring compared to what you wanted, and what you wanted was Dazai Osamu, who no one in the world could hope to compare to.

“He was boring,” Dazai echoes your words, a cruel and mocking lilt to his voice, and you brace yourself now, taking the sudden switch in tone as the flicking off of the safety. But he shakes his head as he lets out a puff of air, you can’t tell if it’s another scoff or a laugh. “How cold-hearted of you. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, given your track record.”

Two paths lay before you: you can take the words as well-deserved, trying to avoid the inevitable fight, or you can spit back equally venomous words, dive in headfirst so the two of you can get everything off of your chest. Both choices are double-edged. If you avoid the fight, it means avoiding the topic altogether, and even if the two of you choose to speak again, the resentment of what had happened will only poison and fester. If you dive into the fight, there’s a chance of saying words you can’t take back, and everything might fall apart anyway.

What do you want? You want to ask him, because you aren’t sure what the right decision is. Three months ago, if you and Dazai got into a disagreement about something, you would know in an instant whether or not he wanted to fight it out to let off steam or just pretend it didn’t happen. Now, you aren’t so sure. He’s still not looking at you, so you can’t use the look in his eye as a hint, but his shoulders are tense beneath his jacket, and his knuckles are white around his glass of whiskey. Your gaze drags up to his face, catching the way his jaw is tight, teeth probably grinding together, and you know.

You look ahead again, leveling your vision on a particularly nice bottle of wine on the third shelf of the wine rack as you say: “I’d rather be cold-hearted than a coward.”

For the first time since you’ve arrived, Dazai’s gaze cuts in your direction, head snapping to the side. You turn your head toward him just enough for you to eye him from the corner of your eye, catching glimpse of the way his lip curled up into a snarl and the way flames now rage in the browns of his eye—a far cry from the bottomless void, but you prefer the anger to the emptiness.

“A coward?” His voice is low, cold, dangerous.

You’re treading on thin ice, but you choose to stoke the flame more, gaze sliding back to the wine racks ahead.

“A coward.”

The silence that hangs between the two of you is tense and damning, you have to force yourself not to react to it, keeping your expression as stony as his as you wait for his response. He’ll either hit you back with more venom or he’ll settle down, one will lead to a blow out fight and the other will lead to a very tense conversation.

You don’t want to fight him, but if that’s what he wants, you’ll give it to him.

After what feels like an eternity, Dazai makes another scornful noise but he doesn’t say anything, gaze snapping back ahead as he takes a drag of his cigarette, this one clearly fueled by anger, far more aggressive than the last one. As if to piss him off even more, he hardly gets half of a smoke, down to the nub already. Frustrated, he puts the lingering cinders out on the bartop before reaching for the pack in his pocket, pulling out a new cigarette and his lighter.

You watch as he tries to flick the lighter on, cigarette dangling between his lips, but the old thing refuses to cooperate. Distantly, you wonder why Dazai is so damn stubborn: working with an old lighter, living in a shitty shipping container, wearing the same few pairs of clothes every day when he probably has more money than god hoarded from his executive paycheck. But you only force yourself to not roll your eyes as you pull out your own lighter, flicking it on and holding it out to him without looking at him.

You watch from the corner of your eye as he stares at your hand suspiciously before he exhales from the side of his mouth, dipping his head down to light the cigarette before he faces ahead again. He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he reaches out for his glass of whiskey, still mostly full, and then he slides it over to you.

An offering. A white flag.

You barely withhold the breath of relief that nearly escapes you, accepting the drink and taking a long sip of it. It’s his favorite brand, smooth and familiar on the tongue; you haven’t been able to bring yourself to drink it since your falling out with him.

“Was it really because he was boring?” Dazai finally asks. He’s not looking at you again, but you can see from the way his fingers are tense against the bartop that he’s probably waiting for a certain response from you.

You let your eyes slide shut. “No,” you admit.

“Then why?” he presses, as if he doesn’t already know.

“You know why,” you say tightly, shaking your head and looking down.

“Tell me anyway,” Dazai responds quietly, you can feel his gaze on you but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. Irrationally, even though the atmosphere between the two of you has shifted, you wonder if this is it: he’s going to get you to admit it and then laugh in your face, cruel but probably deserved.

“Because he wasn’t you,” you finally force out.

He doesn’t respond. Your heart sinks to your stomach, a sick feeling churning. You brace yourself again—you don’t know what for, maybe a laugh or a derisive comment, but he does nothing of the sort.

A long exhale, smoke billowing around his face, a heavy look in his eyes. He doesn’t look at you as he says: “You’re right.”

You don’t respond because you’re not sure what he’s referring to. Finally, he tilts his head to look at you, a wry smile on his lips—your chest feels warm at the sight, you can’t remember the last time you’ve seen him smile. Probably not since the falling out.

“I was a coward.”

Oh.

The frustration you felt all of those months ago returns with a vengeance. You had danced with possibilities back then: that you were reading too much into things, that he didn’t actually care for you the way you did for him, that he simply did not want to be with you even if he did care about you that way. Now, faced with confirmation that he had felt the same but was just too pussy to act on it, your chest swells with that familiar anger. You force it away.

“Why?” you ask after a few moments of silence, nails digging into the palm of your hands as you rest them on your lap. “I… I waited for two years, Dazai. I gave you so many openings. You knew how I felt.”

“I know.” His voice is quiet, barely audible.

“Then why?” you repeat his words back to him, pressing hard just like he did. His throat bobs beneath his bandages as he swallows, averting his gaze, or trying to, at least, because you don’t let him. You reach out to grab his chin tightly, forcing him to look at you, and the pads of your fingers burn against his skin, hyper aware of the fact that this is the first time you’ve touched him in three months. “Why?”

His hand comes up to grab your wrist as if to pull your hand off of him, but he doesn’t, grip firm around your wrist, fingers pressing against your pulse point, and you’re acutely conscious of the fact that your pulse is probably racing but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“I told you why,” he says, voice uncharacteristically soft. Vulnerable in a way that you’ve never seen him before. “I was a coward. I… didn’t want to risk ruining our friendship... I don't have many friends. You know that. I would’ve rather just ignored how I felt and kept you as a friend, because I didn’t think there’d be a chance of losing you that way. I thought if I acted on how I felt, one day you’d eventually see me for what I am and I’d lose you altogether.”

“Some good that did you.” You can’t help the resentful words that spill from your lips, but you feel guilty when he winces, hand dropping back to your lap, his grip slipping from your wrist. “You think I don’t already see you for who you are? We’ve known each other since we were sixteen, Dazai. I know all of the sick and twisted thoughts that run through your head, I knew exactly what I was getting into.”

Dazai shakes his head, as if to deny your words. You get frustrated.

“I spend hours at your recovery bed after your attempts, I’ve caught you in the middle of them myself, do you know what the first thing I did was after I told you I had a boyfriend?” you demand, and he stares at you, unsure. “I put a protection detail on him because I thought you’d try to have him killed, or try to kill him yourself.”

Dazai winces. You shake your head and look away, settling down again.

“For someone so smart, you really are so goddamn stupid sometimes,” you sigh, taking a long swig of his drink before placing the glass back down on the table. “I saw you for who you are, and I wanted you anyway.”

“Wanted?” Dazai asks, an uncertain expression on his face as he zeroes in on the past tense.

“Want,” you correct, voice little over a breath, and something akin to relief sweeps across his face as his gaze drops down to the bartop.

The silence that hangs between the two of you is more comfortable this time. Reassuring, even, because maybe things might still be awkward between the two of you for a while, but there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, one much brighter than the one the two of you lived in three months ago.

“I can’t believe you went for a civilian,” Dazai suddenly says, almost sounding indignant. “A civilian. You!”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you snap when you hear the incredulous tone he takes when he says ‘you’.

“You’re a stone cold bitch,” Dazai accuses and you gape, but you can’t find it in yourself to be offended because his eyes are lit up for the first time in months, a lopsided smile painted on his face. “And you’ve got as much blood on your hands as I do. You. A civilian. I think I would’ve been less offended if you went for Chuuya.”

“We both know that’s a lie,” you snort, and then you add, a bit amused, “you know what he wants a job as?”

“Tell me,” Dazai drawls, resting his chin on his hand as he leans on the bar, watching you with such a fond expression that it makes you feel warm all over.

God, you missed him the past three months.

“He wanted to go to law school. Become a public defender.”

Dazai chokes over the smoke he inhales, and you press your hand to your lips to smother your giggles as he desperately wheezes between laughs. You’re not sure if he’s actually choking, you think he might actually be dying from how red his face is getting.

“Maybe you should keep in contact with him then,” he gasps between laughs, “we might need one of those one day.”

“As if you’re sloppy enough to ever get caught,” you say dryly.

He winks at you, his grin sharpening, and you know you’re not going to like what he’s about to say. “Oh, I’m not. By ‘we’, I meant you.”

“Douchebag.” You roll your eyes, letting another silence settle over the two of you, a smile on your lips now as you take another sip of your drink. He’s the one to break it again.

“... Odasaku convinced me not to, by the way.”

“What?”

“To kill him. I was going to. Odasaku convinced me not to.”

You let out a sigh of utter suffering, giving Dazai a pointed look—see, you say silently, I know you. He has the decency to look a bit sheepish as lifts his cigarette back to his mouth in lieu of responding to your unspoken words.

“Stop with the self sabotage, Dazai,” you finally say, tired. “For both of our sakes’.”

He doesn’t respond, and you know him well enough to know that he’ll probably never stop with the self sabotage, but he does reach out to lace your fingers with his, and the warm feeling that spreads through your chest is enough to satiate you.

Little steps, because no, the Mafia is not a conducive place for relationships and yes, it’s only a matter of time before luck runs out for one of you, but if your life is destined to be short, there’s only one person you want to spend it with.

#ᡣ𐭩 carina’s archives #dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x you #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you

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weird-addiction · 9 months ago

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If you're still writing for hotd, could you do a aemond x twin brother reader (platonic ofc). When aemond loses his eye, his brother takes his own eye on the opposite side as a form of solidarity. They have a close relationship and reader claims cannibal as aemond claims vhagar. I know it's a lot but I thought it was a good idea. Hope you have a great day

~snake anon 🐍

One in the Same

Pairing: Platonic!Aemond Targaryen x Male!Twin!Targaryen!Reader

Genre: Neutral

Warnings: Gore, taking out an eye, typical violence, threatening someone

Being the twin to a prince was never meant to be easy, well, others at the bottom would say different. That is because they have never been in his position before. Y/n was the fourth child of Alicent and Viserys, the younger twin to Aemond Targaryen.

They said that the gods flip a coin to determine a Targaryen’s fate when they are born, one side was greatness, the other was madness. If this was indeed true, Y/n’s side of the coin would be sadness. There was not a day from the day he was born that he did felt like a void was inside of his heart, and the only way to fill it was to be close to his twin at all times.

Since childhood, Y/n clung to Aemond’s side no matter what they were doing. Training, eating, in the library reading, the one thing they did not do was sleep in the same bed. Alicent tried everything to keep Y/n a part, as she was worried that in the future that their closeness would prevent them from finding wives, however Y/n still refused to let his brother go.

Aemond was dragonless, so was Y/n, they were the only ones without dragons and boy were they bitter for it.

See, Y/n was what you called the ‘the silent but deadly’ type of person. He told everything, every feeling, every emotion to his twin and no one else. And for this, he had no idea how to express himself to others freely.

So, he did it through violent means.

“Behold! The Pink Dread!” Aegon, Jace and Luke all said in a mocking way as the pig stood before them.

Aemond kept his emotions inside, he would not show them that this got to him. His twin however, did not have the same reaction.

Y/n did not hesitate as he grabbed Aegon by the collar, his fist raised as he was about to punch him. Aegon was surprised to say the least, as he flinched back from his brother’s raised hand. Jace and Luke were also shocked to see this, as Aegon was the eldest among them so no one went against him. Seeing Aegon’s own younger brother do that to him was not something they expected.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t make you unable to see Sunfyre for a week, brother.” Y/n spat, his hand did not loosen its grip.

“I-I’ll tell mother!” Aegon said out as a last resort.

“Mother? Mother would thank me for knocking some sense into you.” Y/n’s eyes narrowed, the dragon burned within him brightly.

Aegon managed to shake himself free, himself and their nephews left quickly so as to not anger him anymore. Y/n turned back to Aemond, wanting to comfort him. But, Aemond was already down the pit to see for dragons. Y/n notified a guard and Aemond was taken out before he became ashes.

“What are you doing?! Are you trying to get killed?” Y/n looked him over for injuries.

“I’m fine.” Aemond replied quickly, hiding his disdain for dragging him out.

They were escorted back to their mother who was watching over Helaena with her bugs.

“Do I have to have you both confined to your chambers-”

“They gave him a pig!” Y/n yelled, cutting Alicent off.

Her attention went to the younger, then back to the elder to confirm if this was true. Aemond’s face said everything.

“You both will have a dragon. One day. I promise.” Alicent brought both of her sons into a hug before leaving to talk to her husband and her eldest son for pulling such a trick on his own brothers.

The dragon did not come to them, even them trying to claim other older dragons did not work. Y/n suggested they go to Dragonstone to take a shot with the dragons there, Alicent allowed after much persuasion.

Once they arrived on Dragonstone, they went directly to where the dragons were kept. The dragon keepers standing there waiting for them.

By the end of the day, Y/n had managed to fly around with a dragon so large that the shadow covered all of Dragonstone. Even the keepers were surprised, and when he landed, everyone was stunned.

Y/n Targaryen had claimed the legendary beast that is Cannibal.

Y/n climbed down from the dragon’s back effortlessly as he pats its side, running to hug his twin and ask the older about his own dragon. Aemond was impressed by his abilities, but rather sad as he himself was unsuccessful as claiming a dragon.

“It’s ok! You’ll have one! You will have a dragon with wars and conquests under its belt! I promise Aemond!” Y/n exclaimed as he hugged his brother tight.

Well, that would come true only a year later as came the death of Laena Velayron. By the end of the funeral, Aemond had run off by himself as he heard the sad roar of a dragon in the distance.

On the other hand, Y/n was freaking out as he did not see his twin anywhere near him. He wanted to go find him but the guard said he needed to go to bed, but how could he sleep without knowing that Aemond was somewhere else? How could he sleep without knowing if Aemond was safe?

Well, he did not have to wait for long, the guards soon came and escorted him down telling him something had happened to his brother. This made Y/n practically run down the stairs to such a gorey sight before him, his twin flame, his brother who he loved so much was sitting in a chair getting stitches across his eye. Running to Aemond’s side, leeching to the elder’s side as he looked him over for other possible injuries.

“How did this- what happened?” He quietly asked. Aemond responded with one eye movement, gaze shifting over to their nephews.

“Which one?” Y/n’s tone now held venom, wanting vengeance and revenge to the one that did this to his twin.

“The one that I broke the nose of.” His response made Y/n realize, of course, it was not hard to see who he was talking about after all.

“Lucerys. Of course. Those..bastards.” Y/n truly hated saying that word, he wanted to be close to his nephews, but what they just pulled was not going to be forgotten and forgiven so easily.

Alicent came over to the twins, giving them concerning glances. Pushing them behind her as she watched Rhaenyra come into the room. The twins held each other’s hands as they waited for what would happen to them.

“My son has lost an eye!” Alicent exclaimed, gesturing to Aemond who sat in the chair.

“It was my sons who were attacked, and forced to defend themselves.” Rhaenyra retorted back. “The legitimacy of my son’s birth were put loudly to question.”

Y/n and Aemond both looked at each other and smirked, they couldn’t help it, everyone who had eyes could see it of course.

“What did you actually do?” Y/n asked under his breath.

“Claimed Vhagar. They say I stole her.” Aemond leaned into his forehead against Y/n’s.

“That’s stupid. You can’t steal a dragon, the dragon chooses its rider. Otherwise, I would not be alive talking. Cannibal would have eaten me.” Both of them then tuned out the rest of the conversation. Well, until their mother decided to grab the dagger sitting at their father’s belt and attack their half-sister with it.

“Where is duty? Where is sacrifice?! It’s trampled under your pretty foot again!” Alicent yelled as her wrist was caught in Rhaenyra’s grip.

“Exhausting wasn’t it? Hiding under a cloak of your own righteousness. Now they see you as you are..” Rhaenyra said back, struggling with holding the queen back.

Alicent yelled as she forced her hand with the dagger down, the sound of fabric slicing and dagger went through the room. Rhaenyra staggered backwards, Corlys was behind her and managed to hold her before she was going to fall more.

Aemond stood up with the help of Y/n, walking over to their mother slowly.

Seeing that Alicent had cut Rhaenyra, Y/n wanted this to end. Grabbing the dagger from the floor before anyone could notice, and what he did next made everyone gasp in shock.

Sliding the dagger across his right eye, with force, the same thing that Luke did to his brother. The blade dropped to the ground again, this time, with way more blood than the last. Clutching his eye in pain, Y/n turned to look at both parties, blood dripping from his socket.

“Now, we are all even. I took my eye, there is no need for Luke’s.” Y/n spoke sternly.

Alicent looked in horror as another son of hers had lost an eye, now it was two eyes instead of one; and it was all from two of her own children and none from Rhaenyra.

“Your mistake has caused my other son to take his own eye. Is this what you wanted? More of my children mutilating themselves for your sake?!” Alicent yelled, and only silence followed.

Y/n was sent to the maester immediately as the eye also needed to be taken out. Unlike his twin however, he screamed through the entire process and held onto Aemond’s hand for dear life. Soon, the same stitches covered the scar over his eye, the opposite of Aemond’s.

For the years to come, the people of Westeros knew the twins as the single-eyed princes. However, no one tried to get close to them. Or rather, it was the twins themselves who refused. They stayed true to each other rather than to marry some stranger they did not know.

Aemond had a sapphire in place of his missing eye, while Y/n had a ruby in place of his.

Two spirits stone cold but the sparks of two stones together burned brightly in between them.

Two of the biggest dragons in the world by their side.

No one will ever cross them ever again.

#🥀mukuro’s way #reader insert #male reader #male y/n #aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #x male reader #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon x male reader #house of the dragon #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire

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purplecoffee13 · 4 months ago

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I’ve had this scenario in my head for ages now and yesterday after watching Harry’s performance with Stevie Nicks I couldn’t stop thinking abt it. I was wondering if you could make a one shot or smth abt y/n getting ready to see Harry perform (solo or w some1) and all of her emotions growing considering she was/still is a fan but not like before when she was a teen ykwim? She’s so in awe and loves him so much!! Once the show or wtv it’s over they get back home/ or hotel (you choose) order room service (or delivery) eat and then cuddle till the fall asleep. Idk it’s just so cute and It’s one of my fav scenarios to make me fall asleep 🤍

STAHP this is so cute yes ofc🥹💞 it’s on the short side, but I hope it lives up to your imagination at least a little bit, enjoy! xxx

General Masterlist

Blurb Masterlist

Proud was understatement for the way you felt about Harry performing with his friend Stevie tonight.

His friend, Stevie fucking Nicks.

The fact that he could call her a friend was insane. You knew how much he had looked up to her all his life, and for her to ask him to join her on stage once again was an honor which he couldn’t believe was bestowed upon him.

There was a giddiness that traveled through your entire body as you got ready for Harry’s performance. He had been gone since midday, as his presence was required for sound check. The smile on your face couldn’t have been beaten off with a bat; you were too happy for him.

He had been so nervous this morning, checking whether his keys were in his pocket three times before finally taking off. Last night in bed, after taking up your offer for a massage, he confessed he was afraid he’d mess it up. You assured him that he wouldn’t, but he merely sighed.

“This is different.” He had said. “She asked me, to help her.”

You had temporarily stopped massaging him then, almost tearing up at the worry in his voice. It made sense. She was asking him for a favor, and she’d never really done that before. It wasn’t just a performance, it was a tribute. It was about more than just Stevie, so he wanted to get it right.

And my god, did he get it right.

Your vision was partly blurry during the entirety of his time on stage, and you were glad that you had simultaneously—albeit badly—recorded the performance. Harry was shining of course; he always did when on stage.

It wasn’t the first time you had seen Harry perform. You had been to many shows since you started going out with him, and before that.

A show of his was actually how you two met.

It was years ago, and you were still working as a receptionist at one of New York’s finest hotels, when one night you had to check in someone under quite a peculiar name.

Ricky BlueLetter.

You had chuckled to yourself upon seeing the reservation, wondering who could possibly be so lucky as to have been named after Fleetwood Mac songs. No one, it turned out to be. It was Harry Styles’ alias.

It was hard to contain your heartbeat when Harry stood at your desk, greeting you and handing you his I.D. while he waited for the check-in to be completed. You were trembling a bit, and when he asked you if you were okay, you quickly made up a lie about being cold. To be fair, the air conditioning was always blowing quite harshly.

The following night, you were attending his concert. Your plan was to stay in the back of the pit, but upon realizing the stage went around the pit, you knew that you were going to be close to him anyway. You were far too nervous that he’d see you; it would’ve been too embarrassing considering you pretended not to know him the night before.

Safe to say, Harry did see you. He spotted you as he hopped around the stage, holding your gaze for a couple of seconds before laughing. You swore you could have melted through the floor, especially since you probably had to be confronted with this situation at work. You did have to work the rest of the weekend—it was the only way you would’ve gotten the night off—and Harry was performing both Saturday and Sunday. You wanted to slap yourself in the face for being so nonchalant the night before.

The next morning, you had a shift from 7am to 2pm. Upon going to soundcheck, Harry saw you, and approached you. He was cocky when he asked what you thought of his show, and you rolled your eyes before you could even stop yourself. Harry liked your playfulness, and before his stay officially came to an end, he asked you for your number.

Of course you said yes, the little girl inside of you was screaming and throwing a party. You couldn’t believe that the guy who you used to read about in a magazine as a kid was asking you out in real life. However, you never thought it would’ve lead to a stable, three year long relationship.

That first show, despite how embarrassing you thought it was back then, was the most special and defining event you’d ever been to.

And yet, it felt different this time.

Maybe it had to do with the audience not being there solely for Harry, and him performing songs he had loved so deeply ever since he was a kid, instead ones he wrote. There was a different type of love attached to those songs, and you felt the radiation of it burst through the speakers.

It was simple, yet intricate. The gruff edges of his voice blended perfectly with the soft tone in which he sang, making for an almost impossible cohesiveness that was as complex as the feeling of grief itself. Without necessarily intending to, he had mirrored the harsh reality of loss interwoven with precious memories. It was pure, in a sad way. In a way that had you go through two packs of tissues in the short time that he had accompanied his friend on stage.

It was beautiful— he was beautiful, and perfect.

Your eyes were red, and your make-up was ruined by the time Harry left the stage. The fact that the first thing he did was walk towards you and pull you into an embrace could’ve made you run through seven more packs of tissues. How lucky were you to have a man who could not only write and tell you his feelings, but express them with the sole sound of his voice? You felt blessed.

Afterwards, Harry introduced you to Stevie—which was the second most scary thing you had ever done, because meeting his sister was the first—and you talked for an hour or two. The active reminder in your head that these were normal people with normal feelings who just happened to have a shit ton of money and talent was the only thing that kept you slightly calm, as did the touch of Harry’s hand on you at all times.

Later that night, as you lie in bed with Harry, eating some grapes from the dessert plate you ordered, you are still gushing about every aspect of the night.

“She called me pretty.”

“Well, you are pretty.” Harry says, pulling you further into him. The soft noise of the TV playing some random movie makes the night feel a lot more normal than it actually was.

“And smart!” You giggle, biting your lip at the feeling of Harry’s lips pressing a kiss to your temple.

“You’re very smart, too.” He responds softly. You turn around to face him, and climb onto his lap. Observing his beautiful face, you run a hand through his hair. His eyes shut for a moment at the soothing feeling, before they softly flutter open again.

“I am so proud of you, Harry.” You whisper. The smile on your face feels light and easy, just as easy as it is to love him.

“Thank you baby.” He breathes, the corner of his mouth slowly rising as he looks down. You cup his face, moving his face until it’s directed toward you again, and inch closer to your boyfriend.

“I don’t think you understand. I am so fucking proud of you, Harry. The way you sang on that stage, it— you are the first person who has ever made sorrow look so stunning to me.” You elaborate, needing him to know the significance of what he did today. Not only did he not mess up at all, he went above and beyond the definition of a great performance. “She saw it too, she felt it.”

A breathy laugh escapes Harry’s throat, and he slowly shakes his head, his hands sneaking around your waist. His head dips down as he pulls you closer, and he buries himself into your neck. It stays awfully quiet, but the deep breath that follows from his side tells you enough. That exhale made way for the anxiety and nervousness to leave his body, so that he could be proud of the perfect memory that replaced those feelings. You both stay like that for a few minutes, before you interrupt the self-made silence, and tap him softly on the back of his head.

“Harry…”

He hums from inside your neck, tightening his grip around you to communicate that, in case you were gonna ask him to let go, he doesn’t want to.

“Could I interest you in a grape?” You offer. It had occurred to you that so far, you had been the only one to eat from the plate, and you want to make sure that Harry eats something before he goes to bed. You don’t know how much he ate since he left home early today, because he was too nervous this morning.

Harry pulls his head away from your neck, a lazy smirk on his face as his eyes meet yours. He chuckles at the way you grab the plate and hold it up in front of him with a sweet smile.

“You’re a dork.” He says. You frown at the comment.

“That’s not an answer.” You pout, pushing the plate further towards him. He laughs, grabbing the plate from your hands and putting it next to the two of you where it was before. He plucks two grapes and throws them into his mouth, raising his brows at you as he chews and swallows them.

“Happy?”

You grin. “The happiest.”

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shankss-magnificent-ass · 4 months ago

Text

Imagine King catching feelings for you

Kaido: ah, there he is, King this is the new navigator for the main ship

King: [eyes you in disinterest] I see

You: hello, I look forward to working with you.

King: I'm sure you do.

You: [ignores his rude comment]

Kaido: would you show them around the ship for me?

King: I suppose

You: [opens the door and gestures to it] Lead the way handsome.

King: [looks at you in surprise]

During a dinner

King: [sees you're not touching your sashimi plate]

You: [notices him looking] Do you like sashimi?

King: ... Yes

You: I'm a tad full at the moment to eat mine, could I get your help with it?

King: [wastes no time taking the platter from you] I take it you don't like sashimi?

You: it's not that, I'm just not in the mood for it.

King: [can't tell if you're lying] Good, because I don't know if I can work with someone who doesn't like sashimi.

You: but it would mean more for you.

King: [pauses because he didn't think of it that way before] ... So you're going to give me all your sashimi from now on?

You: [smiles at him] Maybe, if you've been a good boy.

King: [feels unfamiliar emotions stir within him]

After that dinner

You: [goes to King's rooms] King?... King, Kaido wanted me to deliver this course log to you to review for tomorrow... Huh, I'll just leave it on his desk with a note.

King: [exits the shower with just a towel and sees you kneeling on his desk chair and scribbling something down]

You: [turns around to see him trying to duck into another room] King? Is that you?

King: [freezes, knowing he's been seen]

You: wow, I've never seen you without your mask, [realizes this is a breach of his privacy, so you should your eyes] Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to look, I promise I won't say anything to anyone.

King: [grabs his sword and stands over you]

You: [looks up when you hear the blade slide out of the sheath]

King: [feels dread and guilt fill his chest when he sees the look of terror in your eyes]

You: why?

King: I can't let you leave now that you know what I am, the government can't know that I'm still alive. I won't ever go back to being someone else's lab rat.

You: I understand. [Lowers your head in acceptance]

King: [can't bring himself to kill you, so he throws it down] damn it all, get out of my chair.

You: [scrabbles out, and silently watches him sit down and make a call using his den den mushi]

King: Kaido, the new navigator knows

Kaido: ehh? I just got them, do you know how hard it is to find a decent navigator and you're telling me you already killed the brand-new one!

King: I haven't killed them.

Kaido: They escaped you, are they at least wounded?

King: [gets comfortable in his chair] No, they're standing right before me.

You: [had a perfect view of his thighs and the v of his hips peaking out of the towel, and now you can see up his towel, so you look away]

Kaido: what's the hold-up?

King: [sees you looking away, so he leans forward, takes your jaw in his hand, and makes you look at him] We can't afford to lose our only navigator while out at sea. I want to keep them by my side in the meantime.

Kaido: [can tell he's not hearing the full truth] ... As long as it doesn't interfere with their duties, you can do whatever you want with them.

King: thank you

Kaido: now good night [hangs up]

King: [puts down the receiver, and runs his thumb over your lips] ... If you try to leave my sight, I will kill you without hesitation. You will stay by my side, and do everything I say. I do not tolerate disobedience, do you understand me? [Gently shakes you to get his point across]

You: [feels tears well up in your eyes]

King: [feels guilty] I'll have servants bring your things, you'll sleep here, with me, from now on... I'm not doing this to punish you, I'm doing this for my own safety, and because I don't want to kill you.

You: [sniffles] I understand

King: [can hear your distress in your voice and it makes him feel sick] Through that door is the bathroom, go bathe while I make a few calls.

You: [slinks into the other room]

King: [calls the kitchens to deliver your favorite desserts, and calls the servant quarters to have them bring your stuff to his quarters]

After your shower

You: [exits the bathroom wearing a clean kimono]

King: [lounging on the couch, in front of a rather impressive spread of sweets] Your things have been moved into your new room.

You: I'm getting a room all to myself?

King: no, you'll be sleeping with me, I need to know where you are at all times

You: we'll be sharing a bed?!

King: yes, now please help yourself to these sweets, I did order them for you.

You: you did, why? [Goes directly for your favorite dessert]

King: You were distressed, and this was the only way I could think of to help you feel better... Your distress is understandable, I know this isn't ideal for you, being practically chained to my side... And while I can't let you go, I just wanted you to know that... I don't want you to worry or be afraid of me, because I'm not going to hurt you. I can't risk going back to what I was before Kaido, I won't go back to it.

You: ... You mentioned the government earlier, I take it you were held captive by them.

King: yes, it's why I wear the mask.

You: [can see him practically squirming in his seat] Really? And here I was thinking you wore it because it was a fetish.

King: well it is, but it's not the sole reason I wear it.

You: Sasaki owes me 800 Berry then.

King: you people were betting on me?

You: to be fair we bet on everything, there's not a lot to do on a boat in the middle of the ocean.

King: [sighs dramatically] That's true, but back to the topic at hand, I usually kill people for finding out what I am.

You: but not me, what makes me so special?

King: I don't know.

You: [ruminates for a moment] How did seeing me distressed make you feel?

King: uncomfortable, guilty, I dunno? I just didn't like it.

You: hmm I see, so you don't want to kill me, seeing me upset disturbs you, and you have anxiety if I am out of your sight.

King: believe whatever you want about my reasoning, it changes nothing.

You: ... One final question

King: [rolls his eyes, and crosses his arms] Fine, final question.

You: when you were on the call with Kaido, why did you make me look at you?

King: I didn't like that you were looking away.

You: I see.

King: ... Why did you look away?

You: I could see up your towel.

King: How much did you see?

You: some of your balls, and most of your shaft.

King: [feels arousal and embarrassment well up in him] Are you finished with your food?

You: I believe so.

King: come, I'll show you the bedroom.

You: [follows him and takes it in] Why are there no lights?

King: because it's time for bed [gets settled in bed when he notices you haven't moved] are you coming or are you sleeping on the floor?

You: that bed doesn't look like it'll fit both of us?

King: [rolls his eyes, grabs your arm, and pulls you into the bed up on his chest.] It's just fine, relax and go to sleep, I won't do anything.

You: [rests your weight on him and struggles to get comfortable]

King: [agitated because you're so close to him and he's experiencing new emotions he didn't know he had] Would you stop fidgetingñ

You: I'm trying to get comfortable and avoid kicking you in your dick!

King: [realizes how aroused he is by having you so close] tsk, do it quickly.

The next morning

King:[wakes up empty-handed, panics, and looks around until he sees you]

You: [asleep on his wing, face nuzzled into his down feathers, and has handfuls of his flight feathers.]

King: [mental cogs slide into place and he realizes he's in love with you] Oh fuck [sits up]

You:[awakens with a shriek when the surface below is yanked out from under you]

King: [sits up on the side of the bed with his hands covering his face]

You: [pushes your upper half up onto your palms as you twist to look over at him] What's going on?

King: [ looks over to see you half asleep, messy-haired, and your kimono had loosened in your sleep and was now only closed over your lap and under the obi belt, giving him an eyeful of your shoulders, the center of your chest, and from mid-thigh down]

You: it's like five in the morning, what's going on? [Reaches out and pulls on his feathers]

King: nothing, go back to sleep.

You: [doesn't need to be told twice, and plops back down and wiggles back into a comfortable position]

Bout a week later

King: [has so much pent-up tension he's basically a walking time bomb that everyone avoids]

Kaido: what have you been doing to him to make him so cranky?

You: I have absolutely no clue.

Kaido: well you better do something about it before he snaps and burns down my ship.

You: [ goes to King's room to find him tensed up and hunched over his desk] Kaido wants me to do something.

King: what now?

You: he wants me to fix whatever I've been doing to make you so cranky.

King: [scoffs] You haven't done anything.

You: [climbs into his lap, straddles his thighs, and cups his cheeks] And that might be what I'm doing wrong.

King: [relaxes at the softness in your voice, but pulls your hands away from his mask] This is my problem to deal with.

You: can I please help, I'll do anything.

King: anything?

You: [nods] anything

King: [wraps his hands around your hips, and pushes you down so you're seated on his lap]

You: [feels the heat rolling off the erection trapped in his pants] Oh my

King: [guides your body to gently rock against him] You said you'd do anything, and it's your fault it's like this. Don't you think you should take responsibility?

You: [huffs, but puts your back into grinding down on him] It's been days since I moved in, why didn't you tell me sooner?

King: I was already keeping you captive, [Grunts and starts to pant as he tilts his hips up to get more friction] It felt like I would've been pressuring you into something non-consensual.

You: I see [slows your movements to a halt]

King: [huffs and bucks his hips in frustration, pulling on your hips to get you to move again] Don't fucking stop, please.

You: [goes slow] Tell me, is this just lust?

King: [desperate] It can be anything you want it to be, please I just want you.

You: is this all you want? My body?

King: I'll take whatever you give me, but I'll always want more. I'm so fucking greedy for you. I want it all, I want the sashimi you don't like. I want fun evenings out, and restless nights in with you, only to be followed by quiet passionate mornings with you. I want you to look at only me, smile at only me, to fuck only me. I'll take whatever you give, just please give me this, [Presses his thumbs into the softness on your belly] even if it's only this once.

You: you're in love with me?

King: [slumps pathetically into his chair in defeat, and looks at the ceiling] Fuck ... Yes, I am. I am in love with you, and spending every night with you pressed against me has made me insatiable.

You: [giggles]

King: [flips you off]

List of Up-and-coming works || Master list || Twitter| Kofi || Patreon

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #king the wildfire #king the conflagration #king the conflagration x reader #king the wildfire x reader #king x reader #Alber #kaido #from the depths of the dragon's hoard #tma original #no beta we die like men #7/6/24

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genericpuff · 4 months ago

Note

(Hello, I posted a comment about this topic in your ask box a while ago, but I don’t know if it went through or is just in ask box limbo. So, if this comment sounds familiar, it’s because I might have already asked this, I just wanted to make sure that it went through this time.)

So, in one of your posts, I noticed that you compared Hades from LO to Bojack Horseman from the Netflix show with the same name. And it made me think back on a video by Dazzling Kate that I ended up commenting on, regarding Hades’s past relationships with Minthe and Leuce. Something that I think the fans (And even Rachel) tend to overlook with Hades is his sexual history with women and the power he has over them. Much like Bojack, Hades from LO has been in many relationships with women where he had significant power over them. He then either used those women for sexual pleasure, or to get some kind of favor from them to better himself. There are plenty of examples of this! Example 1: Minthe – He initially engaged with Minthe when she was flat broke and struggling to make ends meet. He ended up giving her a job at his company where he was the boss, allowed her to live in an apartment complex which he owned and was paying rent for, and even set up a bank account for her at a bank he controlled (Which he did the same to Persephone). He then later develops a sexual relationship with her and bribed her with expensive gifts to keep her in the relationship, but doesn’t fully commit to making her happy by standing up to his family when they trash-talk her nor does he consider her feelings.

Example 2: Bank and pawnshop – He threatened the owner of the pawnshop where Persephone had to give up the comb Hades gave to her so she could make money. Sure, you could argue he was hurt she had to sell a gift he gave her just for the money, but you can’t deny that puts him in a position where he abused his power over a woman and did not talk to Persephone about selling the comb first before threatening to get it back. He also threatened a worker at the bank when he was setting up Persephone’s account (said worker was a woman as well), and even though she was doing her job, she was forced to bend the rules because Hades was threatening her with his eyes.

Example 3: Hecate – Hades learns about the tabloid photo because of Hecate and learns that Hecate is an aunt to Persephone. And while it seems she is on the same level as the King, Hades ends up using Hecate to track down Alex, kidnap the photographer and torture him with Hades. This event is made to make Hades seem like a hero for Persephone by taking out someone who hurt her image but this only isolated Persephone at her college more and just confirmed what everyone was thinking. On top of that, Hades is excused for his behavior and not even Persephone sees how disturbing that is. (Now that I think about it, I wonder if this incident could be considered an act of wrath considering harm was caused to a person by a god who did not have a permit to commit said act. And I also wonder that if this got back to Hades, would he throw Hecate under the bus by claiming that she was the one who brought up the idea and did most of the dirty work? I wouldn’t be surprised if he did put the blame on Hecate, which just further proves his power over women by forcing her to take the fall to get out Scott free.)

Example 4: Hera – He consulted Hera during her breakdown when she discovered an affair Zeus was having, which ended up resulting in Hades having an emotional and physical affair with Hera for at least a century. He basically used her insecurities to have her go against her title as “goddess of marriage and faithfulness”, using her doubts about her relationship with Zeus to gain some intimacy. This also ended up snowballing into Hera beginning to feel more guilty about Hades’s status about wanting someone by his side as his queen. It’s probably why she decided to play matchmaker with Persephone to be with Hades, so he could have the kind of woman he wanted. Hera put her own niece with her brother-in-law, who was much older and unstable, just so she could move on from her feelings and be rid of the guilt of the affair.

Example 5: Demeter – Hades had a pretty good relationship with Demeter, but ended up betraying her so she wouldn’t become queen of the Earth, all because he allowed his brother to manipulate him. While Zeus is to blame, Hades fell for it and let Demeter be thrown under the bus just because he wanted to keep the volcanos, even though he could have just talked with Demeter over it. He also calls out Demeter with derogatory names and claims that she is isolating Persephone and abusing her by asserting her authority over her daughter. However, Hades is just as guilty of doing the exact same thing to Persephone: Belittling her with titles such as ‘little goddess’, ruined her reputation at school, controlling her finances, and even manipulated her into things she didn’t want to do by taking advantage of the situation. (Like how Persephone wanted to take their dating slow, but she agrees to get married only after the fallout with her mother.)

Example 6: Leuce - ….Okay, Hades didn’t technically do anything wrong here, other than not confront Leuce right away about this arranged marriage. Zeus was the one who wanted her to marry Hades, and Persephone was the one to really have her moments with. Seriously, fuck Zeus and Persephone for this.

Example 7: Persephone – I kind of already said my point in Example 5 (Belittling her with titles such as ‘little goddess’, ruined her reputation at school, controlling her finances, and even manipulated her into things she didn’t want to do by taking advantage of the situation.) Basically, everything that Hades did to Minthe, he’s pretty much doing the same thing to Persephone. He doesn’t see Persephone as an actual partner to be his equal, he sees her as a sex icon that he can control and he takes advantage of her (maybe not sexually, but in other means). And all the things Demeter did to her daughter, Hades is doing the exact same thing, but again he wants to get a sexual relationship out of Persephone for it!

My point is that throughout LO, Hades clearly displays how toxic, power-hungry and predatory he truly is. It’s ironic that Rachel wanted to make Hades seem like the best of the three brothers, but his personality is no different than Zeus or even Apollo for that matter. Rachel only made Hades worse in LO than in the original hymn and Greek Mythology. I don’t mind these tendencies of Hades or any characters that have such traits, but they should be called out on it! At least BoJack was exposed for his toxicity and power over women, which the show clearly tells us is not a good thing that he or anyone else should be proud of! BoJack also suffered the consequences of those actions and tried to get better. But here, LO makes it seem like this is normal behavior for Hades and that he’s a desirable bachelor who just needs to find the right woman to work through his issues. Even though Hades’ track record with women is a massive red flag.

And the depressing thing that we have to ask is… if Hades acts this way with every woman in his life, then what’s stopping him from pulling the same crap on Persephone? He may “love” her now, but who’s to say he won’t pull a Zeus and get a concubine later down the road or have multiple affairs? After all, he didn’t fall for Persephone because of her personality, he fell for her because of her body and what she can give him and the control he has over her.

(Sorry for the long post, but I was just curious to hear your thoughts on this topic because I don't think too many people in the LO community really pay attention to this detail about Hades)

i swear i thought i had responded to this ask the first time you made it so that's my bad ahahfhdasklsaj but i probably assumed that because yes, we've talked about the similarities between Bojack and Hades before, and they really are fucked the more you think about them ＼(º □ º l|l)/ to the point that you could deadass replace Bojack with Hades in that "second interview" scene where the interviewer asks Bojack about the power he has over women and he denies it as if he hasn't constantly abused women and girls who trusted in him on the basis of being a well-known celebrity.

youtube

There's a lot of delusion and lack of accountability there on Bojack's part, especially because it's following the first interview where he admits to the flaws that he finds easy to swallow and twist into his own "I'm the victim" type story, but then cowers away from the stuff he DOESN'T want to admit because he still doesn't think he did anything wrong and was trying to use the "woe is me I'm a sad struggling celebrity :(((" angle from the first interview to get himself off the hook.

So of course as soon as he's asked some actual hardball questions and realizes he's up shit creek for being directly responsible for Sara Lin's death as well as other incidents involving women he took advantage of / directly harmed, he pulls the "I'm an addict" card, which is yeah, sure, a reason for a lot of his past transgressions, but it's not getting into his real issues that are feeding into his addictions and it's still being used more as an excuse to try and get himself off the hook on the virtue of "well yeah I'm a bad guy but we already talked about that didn't we??? can't you see how regretful I am ??? let's just move on already!" rather than actually taking accountability.

And who does that sound like? Oh right, the "misunderstood" King of the Underworld, Hades, who has done nothing to actually prove wrong all the claims and statements made about him. Like, we're supposed to believe - according to the narrative - that Hades is misunderstood and that people only assume the worst of him due to his association with the Underworld...

... but then he goes and pulls shit like this and it's like "Wait, maybe his reputation precedes him" LMAOOO

Now it could be a "which came first, the stigma or the reputation" type thing, where Hades started off with good intentions and then slowly morphed into a tyrannical piece of shit because most people already assumed he was gonna be like that anyways just for being the King of the Underworld, but the comic never really explores that or makes that clear. It's just constantly at odds between Hades being "poor misunderstood rich guy :(((" and "powerful king who will destroy anyone who tries to touch his cinnamon roll qween >:3" and yeah it makes for really shitty characterization, especially when reading in hindsight and realizing, "Wait, maybe Minthe was right to be upset about what Hades was doing and Hades was in the wrong".

Shit, this is a bit off topic, but you wouldn't believe the amount of people who don't realize that this scene-

-is literally a bribe.

Now, most people assume it isn't because it's not taking the form of the usual "I'll pay you whatever sum of money to make sure this all goes away" but... it's still a bribe, the exact kind of bribe that permeates larger industries where women are often forced into silence at the hands of a rich powerful man who has all the power (cough people like Bojack Horseman cough). It's a lot quieter and designed to make the woman look "ungrateful" if she doesn't take a deal that really only benefits the perpetrator (in this case, Hades). In this situation, Hades has all the power - he's her employer, the guy who pays for her apartment and other bills, and as much as he can claim he put "the two of them" in the position of financial co-dependency, it was really only her. He's the one who owns banks, after all - she's the only one who stands to lose everything and clearly all he's losing is a woman who he's not even interested in anymore in lieu of the new 19-year-old intern who he's more attracted to now.

So he tries to make it sound like all of it is for her benefit. She could go back to school. Take a management position with better pay. All of these offers, while on the surface seem like a "good faith" apology to "make up" for the loss of the relationship, are really just their own form of bribe to get Minthe out of the picture, under the guise of being for her own "benefit".

Now don't get me wrong, Minthe absolutely 100% deserves to get the fuck away from Hades, but it bugs the shit out of me that the narrative never focuses on Hades' own role in this relationship and how he's contributed to its issues. And not only that, but he's continued this cycle through Persephone, who was also vulnerable in many of her own ways, from her age, to her lack of life experience, to her lack of finances (aside from her inheritance of the Barley Mother fortune which she clearly doesn't have access to throughout S1), to what she's going through as an SA victim. Sure, the narrative props them up as a perfect couple, but Persephone is still just another naive girl who was lovebombed by an older and richer man and slowly turned into an accessory of his own design, covered in all the trappings of wealth and continuing the cycle of abusing the lower class (which we see her doing constantly throughout S3).

And if all that isn't proof enough that Hades is an exploitative piece of shit who takes advantage of women, look no further than the pilot episodes:

And yeah. Minthe was absolutely right that Hades has all the power and privilege of being able to come across as the responsible one when she's the one who stands to lose so much more.

#ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything #lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo critical

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 7 months ago

Note

Plzplzplz I need to see reader and bruce meet face to face in disowned verse, I want to see bruce being his emotionally constipated self and reader having none of it. Whenever you have time :)

Dick noted that, while the dogs were happy to see you- whining and making all sorts of happy dog noises, no one barked until they saw him. Making both Bruce and Jason look out the back door, though Jason softened immediately when he saw you holding Pepper and making a fuss over Boris. Lovingly scolding all three dogs for barking at all when you were right there. Bruce's frown deepened for a moment. Clearly, he hadn't expected to have to face Jaybird's other life today.

It was a little funny when you stood upright from distributing pats and snoot boops to see Bruce notice the obvious though. Like he'd forgotten the slide show they've all been shown about how it worked and why it worked and why it was important to one choose your partners responsibly and two be responsible for you health and safety and at all times... Like he ever actually did that in his 20's.

He left space for the dogs to follow you into the house. Like your own little welcome parade- and followed up the rear, shutting the back door behind him and remembering to slip off his shoes. Even if you hadn't this time, snorting a little to himself. You had bigger stuff to worry about, but he wanted to be allowed back to play fun uncle. Dick kicked his shoes out of the way and hurried to the kitchen.

Jason was kissing you hello- not even sticking his tongue down your throat- and Bruce looked uncomfortable. "I didn't know you were coming home for lunch," Jason said, "I just put dinner in the crock pot. I could have made you a sandwich or something too."

"You called me earlier I thought you were bored today, I was gonna put you to work," you pout.

"And it's a slow day at the store too," Jason sighed. Shaking his head as he rubbed your hip. "I'm sorry, Angel." He must have worked you up more than he thought. And now instead of an hour or so of getting pleasantly railed and going back to work relaxed and satisfied you walked into an emotional minefield. God he owed you. He was gonna have to make you come until it got boring.

"You're pregnant," Bruce blurted out.

"Wow, you really are the world's greatest detective," you snap. " pardon me if I don't drop everything to introduce myself to someone who's thrown our lives into an uproar on a whim. If you Sit down and shut up I'll get to you when I'm ready."

"I-" Bruce started

Jason smiled and kissed the side of your head. Not Bruce Wayne, Not the president, not GOD. In your Kitchen as in your shop, your word was LAW. The only place anyone was allowed to outrank you was in the bedroom- and that was when you let them. "I'd do as she says," Jason said, watching you pour glasses of sweet tea and put cookies you'd baked with the kids on a plate. Bruce had been equivocating. Dancing around a lot of things.

But now that you were here. Patently freezing him out. Giving him drinks and snacks because he was there and that was the kind thing to do but otherwise pretending he was a void- treatment BRUCE of all people WAS NOT accustomed to. All while letting him tell Dick about your lives; he found it didn't MATTER about an apology anymore.

Bruce was who he was. And who he was SUCKED at apologies. So what mattered, at least to Jason was if he was ready to accept the apology he got.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #ask answered #minors dni #reader insert #disowned!verse

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asheloop · 6 months ago

Text

Party wasn't that boring after all

Warnings: +18 content, NSFW, oral m receiving, virgin!rindou, fem!reader, alcohol use, Tenjiku!Rindou

Synopsis: From being bored at a party to giving Rindou his first head.

•*¨*•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ•*¨*•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ•*¨*•.¸¸☆*･•*¨*•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

It was almost 1.00 am.

The party was getting kinda boring, and so was I.

Some people were sitting and drinking, others were dancing in the middle of the room, and I saw some couples desperately kissing down the hallways.

I don't even know why I came here in the first place. That happens when i do what my friend says: "It's gonna be fun," she told me. Sure, she is having a lot of fun with that guy in some room of the house. It was obvious that she came here because of him, and now I was here all alone waiting for her to finish so we could go back home.

"What is this? a funeral?" said a blonde girl. It looks like she wasn't enjoying the party, neither.

"Yeah, what if we play something?" says other girl from the other side of the room.

"I like that idea. What about 'I never have I ever'?"

A bunch of people agrees with her. Well, at least I can do more than standing in a corner with a beer in my hand, wishing I was asleep in my comfy bed.

I sit between two already too drunk guys.

"Hey Rindou, come join us," the same blonde said to the guy sitting on the couch with his phone in one hand and a drink on the other. He was new in town, we have to include him.

He, with no desire to play, joins the round and sits right in front of me.

"Okay, everyone knows the game, but i'm gonna repeat the rules in case anybody doesn't. So, someone says something they have or have never done before, and anyone who has done it must drink."

"Well, who starts?" asks some guy.

There was a silence for a few seconds until a brave man said, "Ok, i'll go first."

Everyone stares at him with curiosity. "I never have I ever kissed with tongue."

You have to be kidding.

I lift my can of beer and bring it to my lips, looking at the rest of the players, everyone drinks, even that boy Rindou.

Some complained about the fact that it was an easy question.

Now is the blonde girl's turn. "I never have I ever got catched masturbating."

I remember that time when I was in my room, discovering my body, I thought I was home alone but then my mom opens the door, asking some stupid question I don't even remember, and see me with my hand between my thighs and my panties down at my knees, god I wish I could erase that memory from my mind.

Ashamed, I take another sip.

I feel an intense look on me, I look for it, and I find it's Rindou's, I hold his gaze until he looks away.

It's the turn of the guy sitting next to her. "I never have a I ever been arrested."

No one moves a muscle till a sigh is heard, and the blonde with galsses takes a short sip.

I'm a little surprised. I wasn't expecting it from the new guy.

An awkward silence is formed, I don't realize I was staring at him until someone called my name. Right, it's my turn.

"Umm, I never have I ever had sex" was the first thing that came to my mind, I heard some laughs at my question, and everybody drank except Rindou.

When he sees that everyone in the round drank, he does it as well, hesitating and thinking nobody noticed, oh but I did.

The game keeps going a couple of rounds. When we got bored, the host of the party turned up the music and the people went back to dancing a lot more drunk than before.

I stand up and make my way to the bathroom so I can retouch my makeup and get away from all the noise.

When I arrived, I knocked on the door, which was closed.

"Coming," says a deep voice from the other side.

A few minutes pass by, and then the door opens.

"Well, hi," I greet him with a smile on my face.

I would lie if I said I didn't find him attractive.

"Hi," he says, showing no emotion.

"So... you've been in jail?" was the first thing that crossed to mind, and I immediately regret asking when I see his face. He rolls his eyes, not wanting to talk about it, I get it.

"My name is y/n."

"I know," said in the same tone as before.

"I noticed you didn't drink with the sex question." Let's be honest. The fact that he was a virgin surprised me as much as it turned me on.

The light was too low, but I could still see his cheeks turning red.

"So? Where are you going with this?" he adjusted his glasses, nervous. "Wanna make fun of me or something?"

"No~, I was just wondering if you wanted to change that" straight to the point, no turns.

"W-what?" he says a little confused. Cute.

"Oh, come on, I've seen the way you were looking at me down there"

He falls silent, shocked. I get closer slowly.

Every step I take forward, he takes it backward. That's how we end up inside the bathroom. He stops when his hips bumped into the vanity. I get a little bit closer, just to make him more nervous.

"Can I kiss you?" I asked, consent first.

"Yes, please" he says. And I do as a said, with one hand I grab him by his jawline and the other goes to his hip. I approached to kiss him, and he lowered his head. The kiss starts sloppy and lazy. To warm him up, I grab his hands and guide them to my waist. He moans in the middle of the kiss, and I smile. He tightened me against his firm and tense body. I can feel his hard on pressing against my abdomen.

As time passes, he kisses me with more excitement. The kiss becomes passionate and wet. His tongue comes into play, asking for permission to enter in my mouth, which I consent, parting my lips so his tongue could find mine. I wrap my arms around his neck.

After a few minutes, I pull away. He doesn't want for the kiss to end and follows my lips still with his eyes closed.

I let out a soft laugh. That's when he opens his eyes with dilated pupils that I can see through his glasses.

I run my hand over his abdomen, up his chest, and grab his shoulders. I come closer and get on my tiptoes so my lips brush against his ear.

"Have you ever got head before?" I asked him, and I could swear I felt his dick throb.

Rindou just shakes his head with half-opened mouth a his eyes full with lust.

"You want to?"

"Uh-huh" he nods anxious.

I lick his earlobe, move to his neck where I left a soft kiss and he flinched. Rindou's breath quickened.

I get on my knees without breaking eye contact. Without wasting time, I unzip his pants and then pull them down to his ankles.

I rub his cock through his boxers and after that I take it out.

"Oh god," I sigh. "So big," I say to myself. Measures almost 8 inches.

I grab his dick with my hand that looks so small around it. Slowly, I go up and down his shaft with my fist.

"F-fuck, I'm s-sensitive," he says, nearly crying.

I bring my lips to his dick, going slow, I give a long lick from the base, not missing any pulsating vein, to the reddened tip, which I suck on it hard. I lift my gaze, looking at him in the eyes. He can barely keep them open.

"D-dont look at me like that."

I start to rub my clit through my panties, I could feel my arousal drenching them.

Could taste his precum on my tongue, I feel he is about to cum and I go faster on him.

"S-stop stop stop," he pushes me away.

"No~ please let me finish," I say with doe eyes, wanting him to cum in my mouth.

"Fuck it" he surprises me when he grabs my head with both hands and puts me back to work. Pushing his hips at a feral pace that I have to hold my breath so I won't choke.

"O-oh f-fuck, you're so good to me," he moans loud. I have to grab on his thighs, feeling a little dizzy.

"S-shit I'm gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum" he pushes me away again and I stick my tongue out. He gives a few pumps to his cock with a tight fist on it and let out a deep groan while he cums. I don't waste any drop and swallow all of it, maintaining eye contact.

I smiled at him, and then I opened my mouth to show him I swallowed it all.

"I said stop looking at me like that. Gonna make me hard again."

I go back to my feet and kiss him again desperately.

"Fuck me already."

•*¨*•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ•*¨*•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ•*¨*•.¸¸☆*･•*¨*•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

Hi~~ hope you enjoyed, doble tap if you liked it, reblog if you want <3

#rindou haitani smut #rindou smut #rindou haitani #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers #tokrev #rindou x reader #tr rindou #rindou x y/n

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matchpointfaist · 4 months ago

Text

400 lux - art donaldson

cw; sexual content, drinking, language?? (if this is bad no one tell me!)

;; art and reader if he never met tashi

;we’re never done with killing time, can i kill it with you, till the veins run red and blue? we come around here all the time, got a lot to not do, let me kill it with you

you met art donaldson at the stanford class of 2010 mixer. you knew him by then, of course, everyone did. he was art donaldson, six time grand slam champion and french open winner. in contrast, you were an english major with no real interest in tennis at all. your singular interest in the sport was art himself, despite not knowing him, you knew he was the most beautiful angelic man you had ever laid your eyes on. it almost seemed like this entire mixer was made for him, the way everyone crowded around. eager to see the tennis prodigy in his prime, eighteen and sipping wine coolers and smiling politely. he was all blonde hair and red cheeks and, “yeah, thank you for having me!” that first night.

you hovered around the tables, sipping shirley temples and keeping to yourself. you noticed art slowly getting closer to the table you’d been occupying, making his way through the room. his blue eyes met yours and you quickly averted your gaze, desperate to avoid conversation. two minutes later, he stood in front of you, lazy smile on his face. “you enjoying this corner by yourself?” he asked, his tone light and slightly sarcastic. “yes, actually. i’m not a fan of crowds,” you replied. “i can relate to that. art donaldson,” he outstretched his hand to you, “and you are?” you told him your name, your cheeks heating as you shook his hand, “i know who you are. everybody here does.” “yeah, seems that way. do you play?” “oh, no. english major.” “ah, okay. so you’re a writer?” “aspiring, yes. hoping this will get me closer,” you said, feeling yourself slowly loosen up with the conversation. “i’m sure it will,” he smiled, and you wondered how a stranger could have blind confidence in you, “well, would you maybe want to get out of here for a minute? it’s stuffy and i need a smoke.” you tried not to let the surprise show on your face and nodded, “sure, i have a lighter in my bag.”

you and art sat on the balcony, a cigarette between his lips and his beer in your hand. “so, why stanford? why not go pro?” you asked. “wanted to be good for something else, i guess. not just hitting a ball with a racket, you know? not that there’s anything wrong with that, my best friend went pro straight away, just not for me i guess.”

“patrick, right? your friend?” “yeah, patrick. he’s more of a career player, more confident. he’ll stay pro while i’m here playing.” “i can see you as a career player,” art’s face reddened slightly at that, “i mean, you’re already winning every match, right?” “well, most of them. it’s more than that though, you have to have the stamina to keep it up until your body can’t anymore. and i just don’t have that,” he said. his face looked twisted with an emotion you couldn’t place, but he kept his tone light and let out a quiet laugh. “well, you don’t have to do something forever to be good at it right now. just like you don’t have to win every game to be good,” “i disagree with the second part, but thank you, really. not everyday someone tries to relieve pressure for me.”

“i can imagine it’s not easy, being the art donaldson and all,” you smiled. “oh god, the art donaldson,” he laughed, rolling his eyes playfully. you shivered, the sudden breeze prickling your skin. “are you cold?” he asked, and when you looked over he already had his blazer halfway off. “no, no i’m okay! just a little chilly out here,” you protested, but he slid the jacket off entirely and handed it to you. your cheeks grew hot once again, and you hesitantly wrapped it around your shoulders. “you’re gonna get cold now,” you said guiltily. “no, i’m alright. at least i have long sleeves.” you regretted the strapless dress now, feeling silly for not taking the cool evening breeze into account when getting dressed. “it is getting late,” art sighed, “we’ve been out here for a while.” you glanced over at his watch, reading 1 am on the face. “oh jesus. i’m sorry i kept you out so late. let me take you home?” he asked. you bit your lip, anxious at the thought of being alone with him in his car, despite being alone with him for hours now. “sure,” you smiled. neither of you were ready to let the night end, anyway.

;you pick me up and take me home again, head out the window again. we’re hollow like the bottles that we drain. you drape your wrists over the steering wheel, pulses can drive from here, we might be hollow but we’re brave

you sat in the passenger seat of art’s jeep, your eyesight slightly fuzzy from the drinks you finished off before leaving the balcony. he was a vision of beauty in the glow of the passing streetlights, his wrists draped lazily over the steering wheel. radiohead played quietly from the car speakers, and you couldn’t hold back your surprise. “didn’t take you for a radiohead kinda guy,” you said, leaning over to turn the volume up slightly. “yeah, patrick got me into them,” he shrugged, looking over at you, “do you want the windows down? it’s stuffy.” “ooh, yes please.” he rolled down the front windows and opened up the sunroof, and you sighed with relief when you felt the breeze in your hair. you sat up, sticking your hands out the sunroof and laughing.

“this is so cool, i wish my car had one of these,” you said, raising your voice over the wind. “you’re beautiful,” art said from below you, and your face instantly grew hot as you sat back in your seat. “well, thank you,” you said, unable to look at him. “sorry, i just had to tell you, i didn’t mean for it to come out so fast,” he rambled, a passing light revealing he was also blushing. “no no, it’s okay! i just don’t know what to say, but i appreciate it, thank you,” you replied, subconsciously playing with your hair. “you’re the first, like, real person i’ve talked to at all these bullshit mixers. everybody else is just kissing up or asking me the same five questions about tennis and patrick and tashi.” your eyebrows raised at tashi’s name, having forgotten about her. “were you and her, i mean not to be rude, but i heard she was your girlfriend,” “oh, no. she’s patrick’s girlfriend, we’re just all friends. we met at one of tashi’s adidas events a few months back. i’ve heard the rumors though.” “oh, okay. well you’re also one of the only real people i’ve met since i even started my interviews here. i like that,” you smiled appreciatively, “oh, and you can turn up here. it’s the marriott on the right.” “you didn’t tell me you were staying in a hotel. have you not moved down yet?” “well, i just can’t really afford to rent so i’ve just been driving down and staying the night for the events until the dorms open. kinda embarrassing,” you explained, your face hot.

“i don’t think its embarrassing, stuff happens. you could stay in my extra room, if you wanted. so you don’t have to leave early in the morning for check out,” he said. “oh, i couldn’t. it’s okay, i promise. me and this marriott have gotten pretty well acquainted,” you joked, still freshly embarrassed. “i really don’t mind, i could even help you get your bags from the room.” “no, i promise it’s okay. i didn’t want you to feel bad for me or anything-” you started. “it’s not that i feel bad, it’s just that i have this spare room i don’t use and you’d have to be up early to check out when i’m the one who kept you out late. plus, we could keep talking, and we could get breakfast tomorrow, get you more familiar with the area,” he said, his tone pleading. “fuck it, why not? let’s go get my stuff,” you gave in, unbuckling your seatbelt.

you took the elevator up to the fourth floor, leading art through the halls and into your room. “i don’t have much, just give me five minutes,” you told him, grabbing your toiletries and throwing them into your suitcase. as you entered the bedroom, you blushed as you followed his gaze to your black bra flung onto the floor from the night before. “oh, i’m sorry,” you cringed, shoving it into your suitcase quickly. “no, it’s okay. sorry,” you gathered the rest of your things quickly, trying to ignore the awkward silence that fell over the two of you. “okay, i’m all packed up,” you said finally, wheeling your suitcase to the door and grabbing your purse. “here, let me,” art said, taking the suitcase handle from your hands and closing the door behind you, “all set?” “yep! ready whenever you are.”

a short drive later, you were pulling into one of the nicest apartment complexes you’d ever seen. he put in his gate code, driving slowly through the lot until you reached one of the furthest buildings. “this is beautiful,” you said, thinking of your parents small house back in your hometown. “it’s nice, i’m very grateful,” art said humbly, parking and turning off his jeep. he got out, rushing around to open your door before you could get out. “oh, thank you,” you said shyly, stepping down out of your seat. “here, just let me grab your bags and we’ll walk up,” he said, pulling your suitcase from the backseat and locking the car. he lead you to his apartment, unlocking the door and pushing it open for you. you walked in slowly, taking in the big open living room and the massive tv on the wall.

“oh, wow,” you mumbled, looking all around you. “it’s not decorated much, i’m only staying here until the dorms open. my parents keep it rented so i summer here and they can stay here when they visit during the academic year,” he explained. “oh, that makes sense. this is really nice, art.” “thank you, i can’t really take credit but i’m glad you like it,” he laughed, pulling your suitcase over to a closed white door. he pushed it open, flipping on the light switch. the guest room had a massive fluffy white bed, another large tv mounted above the dresser.

“you can unpack in here, there’s a bathroom attached if you need to shower or anything,” he said, walking further into the room, “and you can put your clothes in the wardrobe if you don’t want them to get wrinkled. i have extra of my body wash in the shower if you don’t have any, feel free to use it. and my parents usually keep toothpaste in there as well.” “thank you so much, art. i think i’ll take you up on that shower, but i have my toiletries with me. seriously, thank you. this is so kind,” you said graciously. “oh, of course. do you wanna watch a movie or something when you’re done? i’m wired,” “sure, i’d like that. meet in the living room after?” “the living room tv is actually broken, the screen shattered when i was moving it. the one in my bedroom is alright, though, or there’s yours in here. but there’s no dvd player in here,” he scratched the back of his neck, biting his lip. “oh, your room is fine. i’ll be out in twenty,” you said, grabbing your bag and heading for the bathroom. “okay, see you then, just yell if you need anything.”

you took your shower quickly, nerves growing at the idea of watching a movie alone in art’s bedroom. you felt silly and giddy like a middle schooler, so nervous about being alone with a boy. he made you feel comfortable, though, and you knew he wouldn’t do anything you weren’t okay with. after your shower, you put on your black pajama set and padded into the hallway. “hey art, i’m done!” you called, unsure of where he’d gone throughout the apartment. “yeah, i’m in here! the doors open,” he called back, and you followed his voice to his bedroom. he was sat on his bed, shirt off, awkwardly twisted around applying some sort of a wrap to his lower back. “oh, sorry,” you said, averting your eyes quickly. “oh, no it’s okay. i’m just doing my kinesiology tape, my physical therapist has me doing it every night,” he explained.

“do you need help? that looks like a hard angle.” “i would really appreciate it, actually,” he said, turning to you, “normally i can do it but it’s a bit farther down today.” “yeah, no problem,” you crossed the room, sitting down beside him hesitantly, “so you just stick it on?” “yeah, just where i have that first piece.” you nodded, cutting off a piece of the tape and studying it. you moved to place it and his breath hitched as you brushed against the bare skin of his back. your face heated up and you hurriedly applied it, your fingers trembling slightly. “is that good?” you asked, biting your lip.”yeah, that’s perfect. thank you,” he said, his voice trembling like your fingers had been. you traced the light pink scar across his shoulder absentmindedly, “what happened here?” “oh, nothing major, i fell during a match when i was a kid and had to get stitches,” he said. you could feel your pulse quickening, the realization of your closeness striking you all at once. you pulled away from him, pulling at the edge of your shorts to occupy your hands. “was the shower alright?” he asked, gaze lingering on your still wet hair. “yeah, it was really nice. thank you,” “of course. i’m really glad you came,” he smiled, leaning back onto his pillow, “you can lay or sit wherever. do you want a drink or anything?” “i’ll take a water if you don’t mind, thanks. do you want me to get the movie started?” “yeah, you can pick whatever you want. the dvds are on the shelf by the dresser,” he said, walking to the kitchen. you picked through his movies, settling on match point and laughing to yourself at the irony. you placed it in the player, settling back onto his bed. he came back a few minutes later, handing you a water bottle and opening a sprite for himself. “match point? really?” he said, laughing under his breath. “i just couldn’t pass it up,” you grinned, heart fluttering at the sight of him. he really was beautiful, hair mussed from his pillow and his eyes half lidded from relaxation. he laid down, stretching out and pulling the throw blanket over his legs. “you can lay down if you want, help yourself to the blankets,” he said, looking over at you. you nodded, propping yourself up with a pillow and pulling the comforter up to your hips. the two of you watched the movie in silence for a while, and you felt your eyes threatening to close from exhaustion. “if we keep just laying here in silence i’m gonna fall asleep,” you said quietly, rubbing your face. art rolled over to face you then, smiling. “let’s talk then. tell me something interesting about you,” he said. “like what? we talked for hours tonight,” you laughed, “i don’t have any secrets left.” “oh i’m sure you have to have at least one,” he grinned, “i’ll tell you one if you tell me one.” “fine. let me think,” you pretended to be deep in thought, finally settling on, “i couldn’t ride a bike until i was fifteen.” he laughed, his head tilted back, and you wanted to kiss him there, just under his jawline. the thought caught you off guard, and you blushed, scolding yourself mentally for being this hung up over someone you had only just met. “that’s hilarious. could you just not get the hang of it?” “no, i just fell every time, it was pathetic,” you said, breathless from laughing.

“i love that. do you like to ride them now? or are you scared?” “oh, i love them now. i’d bike everywhere if i could,” “we should go biking together, you’ll need one on campus anyway. much faster than just walking,” you blushed at the idea of art still having interest in you after tonight, let alone into the school year. “yeah, that would be fun. you’ll probably be really busy though, being art donaldson and everything,” you said, slightly teasingly but slightly serious. “i hate being art donaldson if it means i’m too busy to hang out with you,” he said, and you watched as his cheeks reddened to match yours, “i mean, if you wanted to, obviously. i don’t know what your plans are or anything for the year.” “i’d love that. just don’t feel like you have to pencil me in or anything,” you told him. “when are you going home?” he asked, biting his bottom lip. “i’m supposed to leave tomorrow. i’ll be back in two weeks for orientation and move in,” “you could stay here,” he said, and your breath faltered with shock. “two weeks is a long time, art, i mean thank you of course but i couldn’t possibly-”

“i’d like it if you stayed, if you wanted to. you don’t have to go home, is all i mean. i just, i’m so sorry but can i kiss you?” he rambled, inching slightly closer to you. “yes,” you whispered, and he closed the gap between the two of you, pressing his lips to yours. he tasted like sprite and mint chapstick, and your heart skipped a beat at the feeling of his lips against yours. his hands came to your face, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss. you broke away after a minute, your breath erratic and face completely flushed, and art’s eyebrows furrowed.

“are you okay? i shouldn't have moved so fast, i just-” “no, it’s okay. i liked it,” you said, trying to keep your tone soothing, “i just don’t do this, i don’t kiss boys i don’t know, and i really feel connected to you and i just don’t want to be humiliated,” “i wouldn’t humiliate you, i feel the same way. i don’t want you to feel rushed, i don’t usually do this either-” you cut him off, pressing your lips to his once again, and sighed softly into his mouth. he brought you closer, pulling your leg up over his hips and running his fingers through the air framing your face. the two of you grew closer and the kisses more frantic, and you positioned yourself on his lap, deepening the kiss and settling your hands in his hair. he pulled back then, and you could have died and gone to heaven at the sight of his red, freshly kissed lips. “we should slow down, i don’t want to do anything impulsive,” he said, placing a long kiss to your cheek, “not that i don’t want you, i just think we should wait.” you nodded in agreement, sliding off of his lap and laying on your side, facing him. “that was, i mean i’m not used to that and you’re really good at that,” you breathed, acutely aware of how naive you must have sounded.

“i’m not used to that either, patrick was always the one who had all the girls, i’ve never just done that, but i feel like i really know you,” he said, pulling your hand to his mouth and pressing kisses to your fingers, “please think about staying. i don’t want you to feel like you have to, but you could stay here, just in the guest room if that’s what you want. i can show you around palo alto, you could come to some of my matches if you wanted. you should get comfortable with the area, at least.” “i’ll think about it, art. i need to work, though, i’ll have to find a serving job here,” “you can stay here and not worry about bills or anything, i promise. you don’t have to worry about it,” “i can’t just freeload off of you, we just met,” you sighed. “it’s not freeloading, i’m asking you to stay,” another kiss to your wrist this time, “i’d really really like it if you stayed.”

you woke up several hours later, art’s arm around your torso and his smell enveloping your senses. you opened your eyes slowly, taking in his bedroom in the morning light streaming through his windows. you carefully pulled his arm away from you, attempting to roll over, when he groaned quietly. “it’s too early,” he protested, reaching for you again. “just need to use the restroom and brush my teeth, art,” you said, kissing his cheek quickly, “and call my parents to tell them i’m staying.” at this, his eyes shot open, a smile on his face immediately. “you’re staying? really?” “yeah, fuck it, why not?” you said, calling back to then night before, “i’ll be back soon.” you went through your morning routine and picked up your iphone and calling your mom.

“hey, honey,” her familiar voice came through the speaker, “are you headed home?” “hey, mom. i actually wanted to talk to you about something, i know this sounds crazy but i’m thinking about staying?” you said, phrasing it like a question, though you knew she wouldn’t protest. “staying where? i thought the dorms weren’t open for two weeks,” “yeah, that’s the crazy part,” you laughed lightly, “i met this boy, and this is insane but he said i could stay in his guest room and we’re really getting on, mom. i really like him,” “oh god, staying in his guest room? so you’re staying in his room,” she said sarcastically. “no, not now anyway. i don’t know, we’ll see what happens. i have a lot of money put back from serving, in case anything happens. so you don’t have to worry about that. and he’s really sweet, i’m not worried,” “what is this boys name?” you bit your lip at the dreaded question. “um, his name is art.” “art? that’s cute, like that tennis boy,” she laughed. “yeah, actually, it’s art donaldson. you know he goes here, now. it’s his first year too.” she hesitated, before asking, “art donaldson, really? are you sure about all this, honey? i mean, the boy is famous,” “yes, i’m sure, i promise. i’m safe and happy and if anything changes i’ll be home as soon as possible,” “alright, baby. if you’re sure, just please be safe,” she sighed, resigned. “yes ma’am. i’ll send photos!” you reassured, “i love you, i’ll see you soon,” “i love you too, see you soon.”

you re-entered art’s room, smiling as you saw him stretching in the floor. “i talked to my mom, we’re all set. i’m definitely staying,” you said, sitting down in the floor beside him. “i’m so happy you’re staying, i know it was spur of the moment but i promise it’ll be worth your time,” he said, pressing a kiss to your cheek and leaning back down into his stretch, “i’ll be done in a few minutes, i’m just getting my stretch in. i had some practice matches today with my hitter, but i was able to get them moved. what would you like to see first?” “oh art, you didn’t have to do that,” “i didn’t mind, besides i could use a day off after last night,” “i guess so,” you shrugged, leaning back on your arms to watch him stretch. “there’s a massive farmers market further into the city, if you’d like to go there. we could stock up for our stay-cation,” he said, then cringed, “god, i cannot believe i just said stay-cation.” “that sounds good, but please don’t ever say that again,” you laughed. “i’ll be ready in like twenty, is that good with you?” you nodded, standing up and stretching your arms, “i’ll just run and get dressed for the day then.”

you threw on one of the only outfits you had left in your suitcase, a black summer dress and your converse, and braided your hair quickly. by the time you were done, art was quietly tapping on the guest room door. you were greeted by the sight of him in running shorts and a us open souvenir shirt, a stark contrast of his formal wear from the evening prior. “ready?” he asked. you blushed as you followed his eyes to the neckline of your dress, “ready.”

now we’re wearing long sleeves, and the heating comes on. you buy me orange juice, we’re getting good at this. dreams of clean teeth, i can tell that you’re tired. but you keep the car on, while you’re waiting out front.

art pulls his jeep into the crowded farmers market lot, once again rushing to open your car door for you and helping you out. just like before, you blush, thanking him quickly. “so, where to first? they’ve got everything in sections, fresh veg on one side, fresh fruit, crafts,” art pointed to the various spots in the market, and you were glad at least he knew where he was going. “hm, maybe fruits? i’d love an orange right now, in this heat,” you said, and he nodded. you smiled as he slipped your hand into his, leading you slowly through the winding crowds of people. you stopped at a fruit stand, in awe of the amount of beautiful fresh oranges, peaches, and grapefruits. “just grab whatever you want, i got it,” art said, leaning closer to you, his breath brushing over your ear. a shiver ran down your spine despite the heat, and you nodded, bagging up some navel oranges and passing them to the attendant. art handed the woman a bill, and you were whisked off to the next booth.

the day was spent with handfuls of produce, and art taking any opportunity to make you laugh. it went by much quicker that either of you would have liked, but you were grateful, in a way, to have art all to yourself again. you hadn’t considered that people would stop him for photos or autographs, but there were at least a dozen tennis fans he had to attend to. you didn’t care much for excessive attention, so it was stressful for you, but you were happy to see how well receptive he was to it. he looked truly in his element, smiling politely and introducing you to anyone who asked. by the time four oclock came around, you loaded everything back into art’s jeep and discovered seventeen missed calls from your mom. your heart rate immediately rose with panic, and you called her back quickly, your breath faltering.

art placed a supportive hand on your arm as you explained and waited on the phone to ring. finally, on the third call back, your mom answered, her voice thin, “honey, i’m sorry to interrupt but we need you back home. your brother’s had an accident, he’s alright but he’s in the hospital in sacramento.” “oh my god. is he okay, what happened? i can be there soon, don’t worry,” “he’s okay, he’s in with the doctors now. his truck flipped on the highway, someone hit him from the side. how soon can you be here?” “give me just a couple hours, mom. i’ll meet you at the hospital, i love you,” you hung up, tears brimming your eyes. “art, i’m so sorry but i have to go home, my brothers been in an accident,” you said, just as the tears started to spill. “oh, i’m so sorry. what hospital? i’ll drop you off, you shouldn’t be driving like this. i can let you out at the door so i don’t disturb anyone,” he said, and more tears spilled as he affectionately wiped some away from your cheeks. “i would appreciate that so much. it’s sacramento community, it’s about an hour and a half. thank you so much,” you cried, wiping your face on your shirt.

the drive there was quiet, art periodically checking on you and running his free hand down your back soothingly. by the time you arrived at the hospital, you had bitten your lips raw from worry. he pulled up to the main entrance and slowed the car to a stop, putting his hazards on quickly. “thank you so much, again, i’m so sorry for all of this,” you said, unbuckling your seatbelt. “i promise i don’t mind at all. let me know how he is, okay? here, put your number in my phone,” he said, handing it to you. you nodded, typing in your number rapidly and then, with slight hesitation, typing your home address. “i added my address, if you wanted to come by, or if you need to rest from driving,” you told him, “i’ll call you when i’m done here?” “i’d love that. let me know if you need anything, don’t let me hold you up,” he said. you nodded, waving goodbye and shutting his car door before rushing into the hospital.

you made it into the room, frantically checking on your family. your brother was in stable condition, but his right leg was broken, meaning he’d need someone to help take care of him once he was released from the hospital. your mom’s face was puffy from crying, and your heart panged at the sight. “here, mom, why don’t you just come sit down? the doctor said he’s alright now, no need to fuss,” you said gently, pulling her to the waiting area. she hesitated but followed you, holding onto your arm shakily. “i’m sorry it took me so long, i was in palo alto with art,” you apologized. she just shook her head, squeezing your hand reassuringly, “it’s alright, honey. i knew you’d be here when you could. did he drop you off?” you nodded, “i gave him the address and told him i’d meet him back there if he wanted to wait.”

“good, i’d like to meet him. visiting hours end at seven, they’re keeping him overnight for observation and we’ll have to come get him in the morning. it’s six fifty now, did you want to go see him before we go? he’s asleep, but you can go in,” she said. “yeah, i’ll go in. i’ll see you back out here soon,” you walked to your brothers hospital room, nervous all over again. he looked so pitiful, your heart just broke at the sight of him. guilt from being so far away when it happened gnawed at you, second thoughts of stanford creeping into your mind. you smoothed your brothers hair gently, kissing the top of his head and leaving the room quietly, careful not to disturb him. after some deliberation with your mom, you decided to ride back to your house, and return for your brother in the morning. on your way down, you called art, your voice timid. he answered on the first ring, “hey, is everything alright?” “yeah, he’s okay. visiting hours ended, so we have to go home,” you explained, “did you end up driving back to your apartment?”

“no, course not. i ran to pick up some pizzas, i figured your family wouldn’t feel like cooking, and i didn’t want you to be hungry. i was gonna drop them off,” your heart swelled, tears falling once again. “oh, art. that’s so sweet, thank you. we’ll be home in about ten minutes, we live close,” you said, “is that okay?” “yeah, of course, i’ll be there,”

the drive back to your house went quickly, once you explained to your mom what art was doing there. she smiled appreciatively , her demeanor quiet with exhaustion. “he sounds like a sweet boy, baby. i’m happy for you,” “oh, thank you mom, but we’re just friends now. i hardly know him,” “well, regardless, he’s a good man in my books, bringing you home so quickly,” you nodded, undoubtedly agreeing.

when you arrived home, art was parked in the drive, six pizza boxes in his passenger seat. he rushed to hug you as you approached him, whispering, “you alright?” you nodded into his chest, trying to fight back tears for what felt like the fiftieth time. “he’s gonna be alright, i’m just overwhelmed. you’ve been such a big help, thank you art.” “of course, it’s the least i can do with all this happening. here, i’ll carry the pizzas inside and leave you to it,” “oh, stay for dinner, please. it’s only fair,” “are you sure? i’m sure your mom is overwhelmed, i don’t want to impose,” “i’m sure, i promise. she’ll probably head to bed right after dinner, anyway. it’s been a long day,” “alright, if it’ll make you happy,” he smiled lightly, “i’ll grab the pizzas, just show me the way,” you lead him up the path to your front door, feeling silly once again for the nerves bubbling in your stomach. you’d never brought a boy home, let alone someone like art. you pushed the thought from your mind as you lead him into the living room, calling out for your mom.

“in the kitchen, honey,” she called back. you lead art to her voice, smiling shyly and gesturing to the room. “art, this is my mom. mom, this is art donaldson,” you introduced them. “oh, it’s great to meet you!” she gushed, shaking his hand. “oh, you too, miss,” he smiled. “i’m sorry to disappoint, but i think i have to turn in early. i appreciate the dinner so much, but i just don’t have much of an appetite after today. art, feel free to spend the night, i know palo alto is a ways away. and honey, i’ll see you in the morning, come get me if you need me, alright? i love you,” you hugged her quickly, “goodnight, mom. i love you too,” “so, pizza?” art said quietly, and you nodded, gesturing to the dining table. “i’ll grab some napkins, do you want a drink? we have water, sweet tea and coke,” “i’ll do a sweet tea,” he said, opening up one of the pizza boxes. you poured your drinks and joined him at the table, tearing into your slice quickly,

“god, i was starving.” “me too, i’m glad i picked this up,” “thank you again, art. seriously, i can’t thank you enough, for everything. you didn’t have to do all of this,” “i promise you i didn’t mind.” “do you want to stay? i mean, you don’t have to, but we have my brothers room or the living room, i’d hate for you to have to drive home this late,” “i wish i could, i really do, but i’ve got practice runs in the morning to make up for today. i can come back and get you, though, after they discharge your brother,” he said apologetically.

“oh, okay. i actually better stay, now, until orientation. mom’s gonna need help taking care of him, and i don’t want to leave them right now,” his face fell, but he quickly recovered it, careful not to let his true feelings sway your decision. “oh, yeah of course, that makes sense. well, i’ll see you in two weeks, anyway. that’s not so long,” he smiled weakly. “yeah, not too long at all. plus i can call you! you’ll have to let me know how your practices go,” “yeah, of course. and you’ll have to let me know how he’s healing up, alright? can i come get you for orientation, or is your mom bringing you? where is your car, by the way?” your face reddened slightly, “um, my mom’s car is my car. i never really needed one, since she doesn’t work full time and i worked so close to home. we figured it would be cheaper, especially since i won’t be driving on campus,” “oh, yeah that makes sense! well, i’ll come get you for orientation, then. morning of, or night before?”

“probably night before, i think that works best,” “perfect. well, i’ll let you get to bed, get some rest. i will see you in 13 days, then,” he smiled, holding his arms out for a hug. you blushed, leaning into his chest and inhaling the fresh scent of his cologne. “13 days,” you repeated, tilting your head back to look up at him. his breath fanned against your face, and you played back the memory of his minty lips on your own. “can i kiss you goodbye?” he said quietly. you nodded, and before you could say yes aloud, his lips were on yours once again. you smiled into the kiss, trying to memorize the feeling in case he changed his mind over the next two weeks. he pulled away hesitantly, resting his forehead against yours, “well, i better go then, or i won’t ever want to leave,” he laughed. “goodnight, art,” you whispered, “see you soon,” he pressed another quick kiss to your lips and pulled away, grabbing his keys from the table and heading for the door. you followed him out, waving to him from your front porch and watching sadly as his jeep departed your driveway. thirteen long days to go.

your brothers recovery was fairly quick. he couldn’t use his leg, of course, but had gotten very adept to wheeling himself in his chair. you talked to art most nights over the phone, smiling to yourself as his crackly voice told you all about his tennis practices and rigorous training. he sounded exhausted, and you felt silly for letting worry creep into your mind. after all, he was art donaldson, he was used to it. you told him stories of your day to day routine, mostly consisting of providing your brother with meals and making sure your mother wasn’t worrying herself sick, or working herself ragged. day twelve snuck up on you, your mom entering your room bright and early to help you pack.

“oh, i can manage, but thank you mom,” you told her, opening up your biggest suitcase and beginning to roll your clothes up. “well, at least let me keep you company before you go,” she said, propping herself at the edge of your bed. “of course you can,” you smiled, happy to get some time in with her before you left. “so, art?” she grinned. “what about him?” “i’ve heard you up at night on the phone with him, honey. sounds like more than a friend to me, with those hour long conversations. are you serious about him?” “nothing is official yet, i do like him, but i worry about school starting,” you said, anxiously biting your lip, “he’s got a really intense schedule, and i’m sure some really intense girls interested in him. i don’t want to get too invested too soon,” “he seems like a sweetheart, but i do understand. just don’t keep yourself too closed off, darling. you’ll know if its right,” she reassured.

“thanks, mom. you’re right, i trust my judgment. he really is sweet, he’s a great person,” you smiled, thinking fondly of getting to know just how sweet he was. “well, you’ll see him soon, so i hope you’re confident in what you’re doing. he’ll be here at six, right?” “yeah, about then. i need to really focus on getting these things packed,” “alright, honey. i’ll be in the kitchen if you need me,” and with that, you were alone with your thoughts about art, and your mountains of clothes waiting to be packed away.

by five forty five, you were pacing in the hallway, biting at your fingernails. ‘this is just art’ you told yourself, ‘i was just with him, it’s nothing new.’ but you couldn’t stop the nagging thought that this would be the beginning of something really great, or you’d shy away and it would meet it’s end. at six on the dot, the headlights of his jeep shone through your window, and you quickly gathered your bags at the door. you’d told your brother goodbye much earlier, before his pain medication induced nap, and your mom was at work for the night. you opened the door, smiling widely as art came up the path.

“well hey stranger,” you grinned, “is that the art donaldson i see?” “oh, hush,” he said, gently pulling you to him and pressing his lips to yours. you were caught off guard, your balance faltering and you leaned closer into him. he held your jaw with one hand, his other arm circled around your waist, crushing you to his chest. the kiss went on for what felt like hours, two weeks of pent up affection spilling out. all your uncertainty melted away with each swipe of his tongue against your bottom lip, like he was pulling your anxiety from your body. you pulled away, chest heaving, and gazed up at him, “well hello to you too,” you breathed. “i missed you,” he grinned, “felt like you might’ve missed me, too.” “oh, i did, trust me. here, help me with these bags, and we’ll go,” he nodded, grabbing three of your bags and loading them into the trunk. you wheeled your last suitcase over, tucking it away, and smiled as he opened the passenger door for you. “i almost forgot what a gentlemen you are,” you said teasingly, settling into your seat. he got into his own, cranking up the car, and settled his hand on your thigh, “forgetting me that quickly? terrible,” he teased back, his voice low. “i could never,” you reassured him, placing your hand over his, “now let’s try this apartment again.”

the drive back to palo alto went quickly, but the nerves eating away at you reminded you of the drive away from it just two weeks prior. you wondered what the expectations might be, coming to art’s like this, the night before orientation. not that you weren’t interested, but you weren’t sure if the timing was right, and you weren’t sure if art even wanted that. your imagination was running wild with images of the night, though, of what it would be like to be that close to him again. art was quiet most of the drive, too, and you wondered what thoughts occupied his own mind. by the time you arrived back at his apartment, your nails were bitten to the quick and your lip was patchy and raw. “well, here we are,” he smiled, “should we unload your bags, or just leave them for the morning?” “we can just leave them, i’m tired of looking at them,” you joked, “thank you, though.” “of course. well, let’s go then.”

when you re-entered the apartment, you immediately noticed a difference. where the couch had been bare before, it was now covered in fluffy decorative pillows and a plush throw blanket. on the bar sat a vase of white flowers, and you thought you smelled a scentsy warmer. “did you decorate, or are your parents already moving in for the year?” you wondered aloud. “i, uh, i decorated. i figured you’d be a little more comfortable if it didn’t look so department store display here, and it needed a little warming up anyway,” he explained, blushing slightly, “what do you think?” “well, i thought it was beautiful anyway. but it looks great, art, you did a great job,” “and i stocked up the guest bath for you, i didn’t know what scents you liked best so i kinda just picked them out,” he said shyly, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “you really didn’t have to, but thank you, as always,” you giggled, “well on that note, i think i’ll shower. movie night again after?” “of course, i’ll be in my room,” he replied. you nodded, heading off for your shower.

art had stocked the bathroom to the brim, with vanilla and peach body wash and creams, and a very expensive bottle of perfume placed on the counter. you blushed at the thought of art in the store, smelling these things and imagining them on you. after your shower, you toweled off and got into your pajamas, heading to art’s room. the deja vu from that very first night was impossible to ignore as you entered to a shirtless art on his bed. “was everything in there good for you?” “yeah, it all smelled really nice, good choices,” you stretched out on the bed beside him, feeling oddly at home. he rolled over, pulling you into a hug against his chest and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“you do smell really good,” he mumbled into your hair, and your heart fluttered at the tone in his voice. “thanks to you,” you said quietly. “we could watch a movie, but i could stay here like this all night instead,” “me too.” you tried to ignore the feeling in your chest, and between your thighs, at his proximity to you. “so, orientation tomorrow,” art whispered, “are you nervous?” “not nervous, no. something similar but not quite nervous. i’m sure you’re excited,” “nah, i got enough of pretentious students in high school. training is gonna get really rigorous once classes start. i’m not looking forward to that,”

“i’m sorry, that must suck having that commitment on top of school,” “i don’t mind too much, just less time to spend with you, which isn’t ideal,” “i was thinking about that when i was home. what are we doing? i mean, not to sound weird or anything i’m just unsure of of what exactly we are, and you’ll be so busy,” you rambled, feeling silly and slightly embarrassed, “i don’t want you to feel obligated, just because you kissed me.” “i don’t feel obligated, i like you. can’t you see that?” “i didn’t want to assume, i like you too, of course. it’s just really intimidating,” “i know what you mean, trust me. i’ve never felt this way about anyone before,” “and what way would that be?” “like if i don’t see you courtside wearing my colors, i don’t see any point in competing anymore,” your face flushed, and you scooted even closer into his embrace.

“if you’re really serious about this, i want this. even if you’re not, i think i’m too far gone,” you tell him honestly. he tilted your face up to his, his breath fanning over your cheeks, “i’m really serious about this, i promise. i’m all in,” “me too, art.” he closed the gap between the two of you, his lips crashing into yours with the pent up intensity of all the emotions he had just laid bare. his large hands cradled the side of your head, pulling you even closer, like he was desperate for you. he leaned over you, hands all over now, his lips gently tugging on your bottom lip. you moaned into his mouth softly, pulling the edge of his shirt up his back.

the sudden intensity had you writhing in anticipation underneath him. his shirt was off in one fluid motion, and yours soon followed. he pulled away, leaving you gasping for breath, and bit at your neck gently, surely leaving a small mark. “are you sure about this? i don’t want to move too fast,” he panted into your neck, and you noticed his hips rocking into yours, almost absentmindedly. “yes, i’m sure,” you whined, pulling his face back to yours. he stopped you before you could connect your mouth with his, shaking his head, “i need you to tell me you want it, baby. need to hear you say it,” your face flushed scarlet, “i want it, art, please. i want it so bad, wanted it ever since i saw you,” you pleaded. in an instant, his joggers were off, meeting your shorts in a heap on the floor. he sat back on his knees, taking in the sight of you in just your thin bra and panties. “you’re so fucking beautiful,” he said, ghosting his mouth over your thighs, “so pretty.” you let out a quiet moan when he pressed a kiss to your clothed cunt, watching with lidded eyes as he kissed his way back up to your neck. he pulled you to his chest, unclasping your bra with shaky hands, and laid you back down gently. seconds later, his mouth was on one of your nipples, sucking and biting down lightly. you arched your back, tangling your fingers in his grown out hair and moaning out softly. “art, please,” you begged, squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to relieve some pressure.

“please what, baby?” his voice was low and rough as he pulled away from your chest, swiping his thumb over the now wet bud. “want you,” you whined, “please.” “want me where? want me to fuck you, hmm?” you nodded frantically. he looped his thumbs around the waistband of your panties, pulling them down teasingly slow. once they were pooled around your ankles, he pulled off his boxers, and you gasped at the sight of him. he crawled back above you, resting his arms on either side of your head. slowly, still teasing, he positioned his cock against your now dripping cunt, sliding against you. you chased his lips for a kiss, almost sighing in relief when you felt his mouth on yours once more. he slowly rutted his hips against you, kissing you with such a force you thought you might cum right there, just from the feeling of him. “art, please,” you pleaded, burying your face in his neck. “okay, baby,” he said softly, leaning back to take in the sight of you, begging for him, “are you sure you’re ready? is this your first? i just don’t want to hurt you,” you nodded, feeling a slight tinge of embarrassment, “yes, but i know i’m ready. i trust you, i’ll be okay,” you reassured him. that was all it took for him. he pulled your knees apart, his breath hissing as he tapped the head of his cock on your clit. your hips jerked, desperate for more of him. he held one of your hands, running his thumb across the back soothingly. he pushed inside of you slowly, your breath faltering at the feeling of him stretching you out. he stopped about halfway, looking at you with concerned brows, “are you okay, darling? i’ll stop if it’s too much,” you shook your head quickly,

“i’m okay, you can go all the way, please.” he leaned down to you, kissing you slowly and sliding the rest of the way into you. once he was all in, he stopped, pressing delicate, loving kisses to your jawline, “is that alright?” “yes, feels so good, art,” you whispered, “just fuck me, please, wanna make you feel good.” he stroked the side of your face, wiping away your stray tears from the pressure, and slowly pulled out of you, before fucking back into you with a force that took your breath away. his arms came behind your back, pulling you up to meet his chest as he fucked into you, all while leaving sloppy kisses and bites down your neck roughly. “fuck, art, you’re so big,” you cried, holding onto him tightly. “you’re just so fucking tight, baby, you feel so good, taking me so good,” he groaned, and you shivered at the feeling of his breath against your ear. his hands found their way to your clit, rubbing circles into you gently as his hips rocked back and forth quickly. “gonna cum,” you moaned out, digging your nails into his shoulderblades, “art, please, feels so good.” “come on baby, cum for me,” he encouraged, rubbing slightly harder and picking up the pace of his hips. he groaned loudly as he felt the contracting of your cunt around him, felt you shaking and moaning wildly as you came around his cock. “fuck, there you go, good girl,” he cursed, “gonna cum, jesus fucking christ you feel so good cumming around me,” he pulled out quickly, and you gasped at the thick, hot ropes of cum that landed across your thighs. he leaned back, catching his breath, rubbing your hip soothingly. “gonna get a towel and clean you up, baby, i’ll be right back,” he said quietly, standing up on shaky legs. he returned immediately, wiping your thighs with a warm washcloth, pressing kisses to your knees and hips as he worked. you could’ve dozed off just then, from the sheer comfort of art taking care of you, and the sheer exhaustion of what you just did. when he was done, he tossed the cloth into the floor and pulled his comforter around the two of you, his hands never fully leaving your body. “you did so good, love. i didn’t hurt you, did i?” “no, was amazing,” you reassured, your eyelids heavy. “good,” he smiled, “you can get some sleep, i know we have a big day tomorrow,” you cuddled closer to his chest, inhaling the fresh smell of sweat and sex and art. “mm, i guess so,” you said quietly, “goodnight, art,” “goodnight, baby.”

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