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stevesworld96 · 1 year ago

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look at me now (part one)

--- steve harrington x fem!reader

childhood friends to strangers to lovers. this is a more realistic look at developing a relationship with steve, set in canon while you know nothing about the monsters, or the nightmares, or all of his scars.

a fic about knowing steve before, during, and after the events of the upside down. including all the ways your friendship with him grows, wilts, then grows again - to blossom into something he probably doesn’t deserve.

tags: fem reader, no use of y/n, childhood friends, typical king steve meanness, yes there is an allusion to steve being icarus, kissing, fighting and making up, cliches, a lot of emotions, depression and suffering etc, reader has an aunt, mentions of death and injuries, codependent steve and robin, steve is so so so so so so so sad. hawkins doesn't get destroyed after the vecna fight - everything else follows canon

please read both parts, i worked so hard on this fic and i'm really proud of it :)

part two!!!

word count: 14878

You knew Steve Harrington better than you knew anybody. At least, you liked to think so.

You were five when you moved to Hawkins into the house right next door to Steve’s, and as things go when you’re a kid, that automatically made you best friends. At that age you didn’t have to try to be friends with somebody - as long as they lived nearby and had a bike, that sealed the deal.

He was only knee high to his mother, hiding behind her legs when she brought him over to introduce themselves. “We’re the Harrington's,” she said, then with a tight laugh, “minus one - my husband. This is our son. Steve - say hi, Stevie.”

He didn’t. Your mothers started a polite conversation and your eyes darted between the tall woman and her son. She was dressed like she had somewhere important to be, with red lipstick painted on her lips and pearls hung around her neck. She was pretty.

Her son didn’t stand with the same pride she had - he was peeking at you, tugging the hem of his mother’s dress and looking down at his feet. You could hardly get a good look at him, and he didn’t even wave back at you. His haircut was prim and proper; the button up shirt he wore was swallowing him.

They came inside for lemonade, and you led Steve into your living room, and by the end of the hour you had instantly become friends, bonding over your toy car collection that Steve loved.

You were kids - of course things were so easy.

To see him, all you had to do was walk over to his front door and knock, and you could spend as much time together as you wanted. Or just wait until his parents needed a babysitter - after they learned how much you and Steve loved spending time together, they started to drop him off at your house and you’d have sleepovers for days.

It was when Mr. Harrington had gotten a big promotion that they’d leave Steve with your family nearly once a week.

“I’m sorry, Stevie, I know me and Dad haven’t been home much lately. But next month isn’t as busy for us,” his mom would tell him.

“It’s okay, Mom,” he’d reply. “Don’t worry, I like staying here, so I’m alright.”

At your age you didn’t see the irony in a seven year old telling his mother that things were okay - shouldn’t it be the other way around? - but those apologies from his mother wouldn’t last very long. And the promises she always made were never kept. Soon enough, she stopped making them altogether.

Sometimes he’d just show up at your door, and your parents didn’t have to ask questions because they already knew more than you did, and you didn’t understand that he was more comfortable in your bedroom than in his own.

The routine of your friendship felt like the foundation of your life. Everything you did was with Steve by your side, like you were tied together with an invisible string that couldn’t be broken. Snacks after school were a must; movie nights every other weekend were your safe haven. The last day of school every year you camped out in his backyard under the stars and then woke up early for a big breakfast and a day spent at the arcade. Even as you got older, those things stayed the same.

You had busier schedules to work around in high school but you still made it work. After-school lunch turned into midnight snacks, and you moved from the arcade to the lake, but you were still intertwined with child-like joy and ease.

Steve’s other friends were another story. Tommy H was a thorn in your side that you couldn’t pick out, but Steve didn’t get why you hated him so much. At first, you didn’t get it either - you just did.

Until one day early in your junior year, Tommy H gave you a good enough reason for your disposition.

Like always, Steve was waiting for you outside of your last class of the day, and you were just about to turn the corner when you heard Tommy’s loud, boisterous, annoying voice.

“Steve, my boy, what’cha standing around here for?”

Steve laughed, even though Tommy had said nothing funny.

“Waiting on your favorite girl so I can get outta here - what’s up, dude?”

“Come on,” Tommy said, dragging the words out. “We got shit to do, ditch her and let’s get a roll on, if you catch my drift.”

You could see his stupid face in your head as he spoke - you just wanted him to go away so you could leave. But you’d wait there forever if it meant you didn’t have to have a conversation with him.

You were hardly paying any mind to their words.

“Can’t, dude, I’m her ride home. Tomorrow though, for sure.”

“She’s holding you back, man.”

But that caught your attention. They were both laughing even though, again, no one had said anything funny.

“Y’think so?”

“She even put out?”

Your eyes rolled so far back to your head they could’ve gotten stuck.

“It’s not like that with her.”

“Oh, that’s not what Kimmy thinks.”

“What? What do you mean - did she say something?”

You knew Kimmy to be the new flavor of the week, Steve’s new eye candy. It’d be someone new in a matter of days - and this was one brand new trait of his you were struggling to overlook.

“Just saying, most of the chicks think you’re taken by Miss Bitch -”

You call Tommy H a dickhead to his face one time and he gives you a nickname that sticks for three years.

“- and that’s why you’re not getting any action, dude. Gotta shake off the fleas, man.”

And then Steve laughed. Loud.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to do. You hoped he would defend you even a little bit, but he didn’t. He just laughed, and said, “I’ll think about it, man,” as if he was in on this joke, and then Tommy left.

And you didn’t know how you felt.

It’s not like Steve said it. But he had no problem listening to Tommy H talk about you that way. He thought it was funny.

Or, he was just saving face - did that make a difference?

You knew Tommy’s words were complete bullshit, and you didn’t care about him enough to let it affect you. Maybe Steve felt the same - maybe he just went along with it because it was easier.

You hoped so, because that’s what you chose to do. You brushed it off and walked out of the room and acted as if nothing happened.

“Hey - about time.”

You didn’t reply; he continued talking as you walked together.

“You hungry?”

“Thought you were coming over,” you said. “Told you I wanted to build a blanket fort. Remember?”

He huffed out a scoff, “A blanket fort? Are you six?” The glare you gave him made him reel his judgment back in. “Fine. Let’s go.”

…

As soon as basketball season was over and you had your weekends back to yourself, you were ready to get through your watch list of movies as quickly as possible. You’d never tell Steve that cheering for him at his games was your least favorite part of your friendship with him - you would always keep that selfishness to yourself.

And if you weren’t so wrapped up in your own mind, lost in planning your movie night, you may have been able to see your next conversation with Steve coming.

“There she is, been lookin’ all over for you.”

A heavy arm slung around your shoulders as you walked down the school hall. You didn’t have to question who it was.

“What do you want, Steve?”

“Just want to see my best friend in the whole world, is there something wrong with that?”

You rolled your eyes. Obviously he’s up to something.

“I’m going to choose to ignore you,” you said, shaking off his arm and stopping at your locker. His back fell into the metal next to you.

“What’s up?” he asked, and he was trying too hard to be inconspicuous, but you ignored it.

“Nothing. Oh, I think I finally have a cookie recipe we’ll like. Mrs. Jenkins gave it to me but she made me swear I wouldn’t share her secrets. Gonna pick up the stuff after school - have you picked your movie yet?”

Then his eyes widened, a bit too much to look genuine. “Oh, shit, is that tonight?”

“It’s Friday, isn’t it?”

“I completely forgot about that, shit. I made other plans without thinking.”

“Well, cancel them,” you said with a straight face.

“Well… what if you join in on my plans instead?”

You closed your locker and didn’t even consider entertaining Steve’s idea. “My mom’s already planning to make dinner for you. Are you ready to face her wrath?”

“Well - no,” he said. “It’s just - y’know, I was supposed to see Nancy tonight, and…”

“Oh, I get it, you wanna cancel so you can get laid. Is that it?”

“No, Christ - I’ll be there, alright? But next time, I’m getting my way.”

You laughed at him, and the bell rang and ended your conversation.

You didn’t think the night would go any differently than your normal hangouts. Maybe if you were expecting it, the disappointment wouldn’t have stung so bad.

He called you early.

“Hello?”

“Hey -”

“Hey, have you picked up the movies yet? I forgot to get popcorn, so…”

“No, I haven’t. Listen, um…” There was static on the line for a moment before he continued. “Sorry, but - can we - are you sure we can’t reschedule? Like, tomorrow night?”

You groaned, you were annoyed. But even when he argued with you, Steve never ditched your valued traditions - he may act bothered sometimes, but he would always come around. Even if he did gripe about it being childish the entire time.

That’s what you thought this would be.

“No, Steve, I have book club and tutoring and dinner with my aunt tomorrow. You know this.”

“Right. I guess I forgot about that. Okay, well…”

“...Well?”

Once again, he was quiet, and you weren’t sure if he was hesitating because he didn’t know what to say, or because he was nervous.

“Well - I think it’d be really fun if we hung out at my place tonight!”

“I guess I can bring all the ingredients for the cookies over. You do have a nicer oven…” you said.

“No, like, you can come over with everyone else I invited and we could -”

“I thought you canceled that?”

“I was going to, but… Tommy wouldn’t take no for an answer! And we already got the booze, and Nance finally said yes and - and I’d be really happy if you were here too!”

“...Okay.”

“Okay…?”

You thought for a moment, then decided to ask him the question you were asking yourself.

“Would you be happy if I was there, or would you be happy if I’m not mad at you for canceling?”

“Uh - either one.”

“Right.”

That answer was good enough for you, even though it wasn’t the one you wanted. You weren’t getting anything you wanted that night, and you weren’t going to fight for it with someone who already had their mind made up.

“Then have fun,” you said.

“Really? We can cancel?”

The excitement in his voice caused an angry laugh. “Yeah. Bye.” And you hung up.

And you made your cookies, and you watched the movies you already had on tape, and you didn’t miss the popcorn but you wished you had Steve’s lap to put your feet on - and it was fine.

You were sure he was having fun. And maybe he didn’t care at all about your canceled plans - because he was too busy with people who didn’t like you, doing something more exciting than what the two of you did as kids.

It was selfish to be angry. Maybe it was wrong. But you let it boil over anyway.

…

You didn’t talk to him for a week after that. Because you didn’t want to, and you wanted to teach him a lesson, and you hoped it would make him sorry.

Maybe you were being immature, but at this point, you were committed.

You were afraid that you were setting the wrong example - that, maybe, he thought you were angry about him making his own plans, when the problem was how he’d canceled yours so last minute. Or perhaps it was both. But now you had dragged it out too long and you were stuck giving Steve the cold shoulder until he finally caved in and apologized.

That’s all you wanted, really: an apology. And a bribe or two, just to get the most out of this argument. That’s how things usually went: you give him the silent treatment and he shows up at your door with your favorite snacks and a new book, and things would go back to normal.

But not this time.

You’d managed to bike to school without being caught by Steve all week, but you’d underestimated him waiting for you at the bike racks at the end of the day on Thursday.

He stood with his arms crossed and his brows drawn together. The moment you saw him you stopped in your tracks, like if you stayed still he wouldn’t see you, but his gaze was locked on. It didn’t look kind.

So you prepared yourself for this fight.

“What are you doing?” he asked, but his tone said something different - it said, I’m sick of your shit.

“What are you doing?”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, “Just wondering how long you’re going to keep dragging this out.”

You kept darting around his words and moved to get your bike as if he’d let you leave so easily. “I’m not dragging anything out. Don’t know what you mean.”

His arms flung out to his sides as his voice raised, “You’re acting like a fucking kid!”

And your volume matched his, “You hurt my feelings!”

“Well - grow up!”

The short silence that followed felt heavy, but he didn’t let it sit for long.

“I mean - come on - I ditch you one time and all of a sudden we’re not friends anymore? Really?”

“A sorry would be nice, Steve.”

“I’ve said sorry.” Both of you knew that he hadn’t, but it didn’t matter now. “But sorry isn’t enough, is it? You’re just mad that I have new friends. Because I don’t want to just - sit around and fucking - watch movies in your living room like we’re kids -”

“Like we’re kids,” you said, laughing. “Yeah - right, because that’s really what this is about, isn’t it, Steve?”

He looked confused, and you didn’t give him the chance to speak.

“Because I’m holding you back. Right? Tommy H said it so it must be true. I’m a bitch and I’m keeping you down and you need to shake me off if you ever want to get any action - that’s what it is. Just say it, Steve.”

“Where is this coming from?” He ran a hand through his hair and his voice sounded desperate, but you weren’t sure what for. Maybe to salvage the remnants of a wounded friendship, to turn this conversation around. But your anger wouldn’t let him.

“You know where it’s coming from. I heard it, Steve, and you - you agreed with him! I’m your best friend but you can’t even defend me to your shitty fucking friends - so just say it! You’re the one who doesn’t want me around -”

“That’s not what happened -”

You were so angry, and he was lying, and Steve never lied to you, and he’d filled you with so much venom that you couldn’t help spitting it out as you stepped closer to him. “It is. And you’re turning it on me when you’re the shitty friend. Stop lying to me and just say it.”

“Yeah, maybe that is what it is - and I was just too fucking stupid to see it before now. That you’re so fucking clingy I can’t even have one night with a girl without you getting jealous. He was right. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Yeah, it was,” and you pulled your bike free and your foot hit the kickstand so hard that it hurt, and you told yourself the pain was the reason tears were flooding your eyes.

“Maybe I’m better off without you - have you ever thought about that? Is that your fucking problem?”

“Whatever! I don’t care anymore! You never have to watch another fucking movie with me again, alright? We won’t go to the arcade or build stupid fucking blanket forts or any of the other childish shit you hate so much!”

“Good - fucking - good!”

“And I hope you have fun playing King, and I hope when all your friends turn on you and Nancy dumps your ass - because you’re an asshole - that I’m the last person you run to for help, and I hope your dad is real fucking proud of you, because you’re turning out to be just fucking like him.”

It all fell out like you were pushing rocks off of a cliff - fast and angry and hard. You knew what those words would do to him. You knew you were hurting his feelings more than he had ever hurt yours - that you were putting the knife in too deep to pull out. You knew and you said it anyway, because you were mad and he was being a dick and lashing out felt good. Especially when you could hop on your bike and ride away from him, fast enough to avoid watching the blood pooling at his feet.

The worst part is that you were being honest.

Steve stood there alone and didn’t even turn to watch you ride away. He felt like hitting something, or screaming until his lungs were empty and tired.

And he didn’t even have time for any of this. He was finally making decisions for himself, for once, and who were you to get mad at him for that? He was popular, he had a girlfriend who was actually into him, his parents had finally gotten off his back. Things were going fantastic for him and he wasn’t going to let you mess it up because you were… jealous, or selfish, or whatever it was - Steve didn’t care.

He wasn’t going to lose sleep over you refusing to grow up and give him space. He was on top of the world, and you were trying to tear him down.

He didn’t need you, anyway.

…

Months passed.

And, like you had put a hex on him, all of your words came true - and then some. It didn’t take very long for things to crumble around him, and Steve almost thought it was funny how quickly his wings had melted to send him hurling into the ground.

No matter how hard he tried patching the holes, everyone knows you can’t fly with wings made of wax.

The fall hurt. But it was what came after that brought the real pain - a stinging, striking ache that was impossible to ignore. It felt like he was the last person on earth and he deserved it; like he shouldn’t be allowed to be around other people because he was no good.

And every time he tried putting the pieces back together, things only got more broken - all starting at Jonathan Byers’ front door.

What could get worse than fighting a monster from an alternate dimension?

Or fucking things up with your girlfriend beyond repair?

Or fighting those monsters again?

He learned quickly to stop asking stupid questions like those.

And he learned that he couldn’t just close his eyes and wish it away. He couldn’t run when things got scary; he couldn’t lash out when someone was honest with him; he couldn’t sneak out of his window and into yours when the yelling got too loud. He was forced to face everything he ever hid from, cursed to have regrets and keep them.

At least he wasn’t completely alone - the company of nerdy kid genius Dustin Henderson brought most of these lessons on. And in a normal situation Steve wouldn’t recommend learning anything from a kid in junior high, but he was living anything but a normal life. He’d take friends wherever he could get them, especially during senior year.

Maybe he wanted to set a good example for the kids that suddenly came into his life. Maybe he wanted to prove to himself that he wasn’t his father - that he could do good things without getting something out of it. Or maybe, most likely, he just did it.

He wanted to feel like a superhero, wanted to look in the mirror and feel proud of what stared back at him. But he didn’t, because he wasn’t. He wasn’t brave or heroic or gallant - he was no Clark Kent. And everything he did was because he had to. Because who else would?

Sometimes he felt like only someone as careless as him would fight a man-eating creature with nothing but a baseball bat - because out of everyone he knew, he had the least to lose. Why bother making safe decisions when most days he didn’t even want to get out of bed? What was he risking when he’d already bet it all and lost?

And who would be proud of that?

But there were moments, in the time between the fall and the fight, that he could almost see it. Like a flicker of light passing by he’d see Max smiling at him, hear Dustin’s excited laughter, feel a heavy high five from Lucas and he’d think - oh. Right there, standing in front of him, were the people he had to lose. The ones he was trying to win for.

And then he’d lay in bed at night and get stuck in another sleepless round of self loathing; hatred fueled by every cruel word he’d spit and all the selfish acts he’d taken, and fuck, he was spinning and suffocating and screaming, and maybe he deserved this.

It didn’t matter that he knew how to swing a fucking bat good enough to win more time for the ones he loved, because he wouldn’t love them right, anyway. And he’d turned the best person he’d ever known into nothing more than a crumpled piece of paper on his floor - something to be tossed aside and forgotten. And even if he tried smoothing it out, those creases would always be there.

Sometimes he stared out his window and watched yours. Waited for your light to turn off so he could look away and stop wondering what you were doing and how your life was without him in it.

All he wanted was to see you again. He’d beg for that movie night he ditched on junior year. He wanted to grab you by your shoulders and show you that he’s better now, he’s changed, those last words you told him weren’t applicable anymore and everything can just go back to how it was.

But nothing was ever that easy, was it?

He was glad when graduation finally came around, until he was forced into a sailor’s uniform with an ice cream scoop on his belt like a gun in a holster.

It was one way to spend the summer. It got him out of the house he hated staying in, and put a little money in his pocket, so slinging ice cream at Scoop’s Ahoy was good enough for him.

It distracted him from the vague nightmares he kept having and the fact that he got into a total of zero universities, and the free ice cream counted as dinner on his bad days. And he was fine with his obnoxious co-worker and annoying customers.

He was just fine.

But it was Hawkins. Nothing could stay fine there - not after a little girl with super powers opened a portal to an alternate fucking dimension and turned the town into a magnet for every fucked up thing imaginable.

Steve thought it was over, and then Dustin had him and Robin translating the Russian words he heard over his radio, and they were all pulled back in.

He wasn’t expecting to fall into the Russian lair under Starcourt Mall, to trauma bond with Robin - of all people - or to get any closer to dying than he already had, but he stopped betting on his expectations a long time ago.

By the time he saw the night sky again, he couldn’t remember how many punches he’d been thrown.

His head throbbed to the beat of his heart. It felt like if he tapped his temple, his eye would pop right out. His work uniform was ruined, stained with blood and spit, but the smoke billowing from Starcourt ensured that he wouldn't be needing it anymore.

The events of the night felt like they were years away. All he remembered was running, screaming, crying; he remembered the fist coming toward his face but not the impact. He woke up to pain, and then it was gone - more running and bleeding and fighting and then, it was over.

Robin sat next to him, shivering, on the back of an ambulance. The lights from the siren were blinding, the noise around him was punching his ear drums.

“Are we alive?” Robin asked. Her voice was totally shot.

“Think so.”

“I want to lay down so bad.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Do you have someone to call?”

She sighed deep. “Not really.” She let it be quiet for only a second, then said, “I don’t really want to go home. To be honest.”

“You wanna spend the night here?”

“If I don’t have to be alone, then, yeah.”

He sighed, too, then patted her knee.

He said, “I’ll call someone, alright?” and she nodded.

The payphone was a bit of a walk, and he had to wait behind two people in line, but it was enough time for him to muster up the courage to make the call. Even still, when he had the phone in his hand, all he could do was stare at it.

He was trying to remember the exact words you said to him the last time he spoke to you. Something like, “I hope I’m the last one you call,” he was sure. It was hard to remember your phrasing now, but the memory still stung all the same.

And he knows it’s not fair to call you, but he was going to anyway. Because in all honesty, you were the only option he had.

Any other time, he’d rely on Hopper for a ride. But Hopper wasn’t around anymore.

So he dialed your number and prayed you hadn’t changed it from the one he knew by heart.

Your hand darted out of your blanket to reach your bedside telephone. The ringing killed your half asleep ears, and you hardly knew what you were doing when you put the receiver to your ear.

“Hello?”

You could barely get the word out; your voice was thick with sleep that was slowly creeping over you.

“Hey. It’s Steve.”

With your heavy eyes shut, sleep was pulling you back in. Your whole body jumped a little bit when you attempted to stay awake.

“Steve?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry for waking you up, but -”

You didn’t know what was going on, and then you heard sirens on the phone. A jolt of anxiety seared through you at the sound. That’s what got you to wake up - then you realized who you were talking to.

“Steve?”

“...Yeah.”

“What - what’s wrong?”

Your heart was pounding out of your chest as you sat up in bed, holding yourself up with one shaky arm.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and you held your breath until he answered your question. “There was an, uh - accident at Starcourt, and - I don’t know who else to call. I’m sorry, I can’t drive right now and I don’t have anybody else.”

“Are you okay?”

“Barely.”

You didn’t give your answer a second thought. “I’ll be there in, like, five minutes, okay?”

You could hear his breath of relief over the phone. “Okay. Thank you.”

After stealing your mother’s car keys, you stuffed your bare feet into combat boots and ran to the car. Even though you still only had your learners permit, you absolutely floored it to the mall without a single thought in your mind. It was like you were on autopilot, simply doing what you were supposed to, because you were scared.

You saw plumes of smoke before Starcourt ever came into view, and you swallowed through your dry throat because you knew something bad happened.

You had to fight through crowds and cops before you were allowed to pass under the police tape to search for Steve, which wasn’t easy. Every face you saw wasn’t his and each second that passed dug a deeper pit in your stomach.

The second-to-last ambulance in the lineup is where you found him, sitting next to a girl whose head was on his shoulder.

And when you saw him… it wasn’t him. Your eyes glazed over him because he was hardly recognizable.

You’d seen him beat up before. He’s had his fair share of fights at school; you wiped blood off his face and helped him nurse black eyes. But it was never like this.

His left eye was swollen shut. Crimson stained from his eyebrow to his jawline. His skin was aggravated red, his clothes were blood rusted, his knuckles were ripped open.

And still, somehow, his hair looked perfectly done. That sight alone made you want to laugh and cry at the same time, because of course he managed to keep its style untouched. It was so Steve.

You ran to him; your legs carried you there on their own, shoelaces smacking against wet pavement. You weren’t thinking when you called out his name or when you flung your arms around his neck. You hugged him like it would heal him, like the scent of your perfume could cover the smoke he smelled of.

It’d been almost a year since you’d talked to him, and the jagged edges of your ended friendship still cut deep, but you didn’t care. Not when he looked the way he did; not when he was hugging you so tight; not when your tears were dripping onto his skin.

You pulled back and looked at him, and his wounds didn’t look any better up close.

“Oh my god, Steve, are you okay? What the hell happened?”

“I’m alright,” he said. He wouldn’t look at you, or couldn’t bring himself to. “I’m just glad you came. I’m sorry -”

“Don’t,” you said, and then you looked around at the scene. “Have the paramedics even seen you? Why are you just sitting here?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I - I’m fine. They said I’m fine. They’re all busy with others but - I’m fine, don’t worry.”

That’s when you noticed the girl next to him, who was looking at you like you were crazy, and you realized what you were potentially barging in on.

They sat close - too close to be friendly. They were basically cuddling when you first saw them. It was obvious what they were, so of course she was looking at you that way.

You didn’t mean to make her jealous, but a part of you didn’t care.

“Are both of you okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, answering for the two of them. The girl nodded. “This is Robin, by the way.”

You introduced yourself to her, trying to be cordial even though you were meeting in the worst of situations.

“You two can stay at my place tonight, if you want to,” you told them. Steve asked Robin if she was okay with that, and she said yes, and so you led them to your car.

You weren’t sure why you made the offer to Steve - you wanted him with you, sure. After seeing the condition he was in, you wouldn’t sleep unless you knew you were keeping him safe and sound in your own bedroom.

Old habits die hard.

But, all things considered, you should have just taken him to his own home, where he could be with Robin in peace. Without cut ties lingering in the air like flies.

You drove him home anyway.

Nobody spoke until you got to your bedroom.

“Do you need a shower?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. Robin nodded.

“Okay. Robin, you can take my bathroom. Steve can shower downstairs.”

You dug through bottom drawers to find clothes for each of them - you still had the ones Steve kept stored there, as embarrassing as it was, so it wasn’t a difficult task. And you’d let Robin choose from your pajama drawer.

And then you got back into bed, because you didn’t know what else to do for them.

Robin stood in the doorway of your bathroom, just staring into the room. When Steve opened your bedroom door, she snapped her head back to him.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

She glanced over at you. You wanted to hide from the tension in the room.

“I - I don’t know how to use this faucet.”

He showed her how, and then made for the exit, but she called for him again.

“I was just thinking - you know - if we both shower at the same time, won’t the water pressure be super low? And what if the hot water runs out before I’m done, and -”

“I’ll be quick, Robs,” he said. “It’ll be fine.”

Steve took one step into the hallway before stopping. The darkness looked like it went on forever. He didn’t remember your house being so unlit, or having so many hiding places, and suddenly his legs were shaky.

“...You’re probably right, though. I’ll just wait out here until you’re done.”

“Yeah. And I’ll keep the door cracked open, for�� all the steam.”

“That’s a good idea.”

And he sat on the floor right outside of the bathroom door. When Robin was finished, they swapped places. As if they couldn’t be apart for longer than twenty minutes.

You didn’t ask them any questions.

…

The two of them slept on a pallet of old blankets on your bedroom floor. Robin made Steve sleep closest to the door. He tried not to be upset about it.

And he didn’t think he’d be able to sleep, but it seemed to swallow him. He didn’t dream, or toss and turn, but he woke up unrested.

Everything still hurt just as bad as it did the night before. And Robin’s snoring was making his headache worse.

You were no longer in bed, so he decided to get up and find you.

He wasn’t sure what kind of interaction he’d be walking into when he found you in the kitchen, but he tried to keep his head high.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Hey.” You had a mug in your hand. “Your eye looks better.”

“It doesn’t feel any better,” he said, and he wanted to make a joke that it actually looks worse - because when he closes his right eye, everything’s blurry - but he held that one in. He wasn’t ready for a comedic coping mechanism quite yet.

You put Tylenol on the island that separated the two of you. “Take them. I don’t know if it’ll help much, but it can’t hurt.”

The bottle said to take two, so he took three. And then the awkward quiet started washing in.

Until, “I saw what happened on the news,” and Steve almost coughed up the water he was chugging.

“What are they saying?” he asked, because he didn’t know what story he was supposed to be playing along with.

“Just talking about the fire,” you said. Your voice sounded so dim, and Steve hated it. “It’s… crazy. Hopper… he…” You couldn’t say the word.

“I know,” Steve said.

“And thirty others.”

His throat felt dry. “Thirty?”

Truly, he didn’t know that many people hadn’t survived. And now, it all felt real. Really real.

“Yeah,” you replied. “I’m just glad - you were lucky to get out, Steve.”

You had no clue how lucky he’d really been. And hopefully you would never have to know.

“I know.”

You sat your mug down, brushed your hands on your chest like you were trying to wipe off everything you knew of the accident, then blew out a loud breath.

“Let’s just think about something else.”

Almost at the same time as you, he spoke. “Thank you.”

“...What for?”

“For coming to my rescue,” he said, huffing a laugh. “I know that I… didn’t really deserve it.”

“Don’t thank me, Steve.”

“Seriously. You could’ve just told me to walk home, but you didn’t.”

“I’m just being a good friend,” you said, then shrugged. “I hope you would do it for me.”

“In a heartbeat.”

He wondered if this was his chance to say sorry.

Or if there was even a point in it.

He was afraid you’d do no more than laugh in his face, and even if he deserved it he didn’t want to succumb to it.

But he had to. Because he almost died last night. And he could be fighting those monsters again, any day now. Was he going to lose this chance? Or is he going to die without saying another word to you?

He stared down at his ripped knuckles. The wounds still looked fresh. They stung just from touching the open air.

He stared, and stared, and stared, and - he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t say a word. He couldn’t face it.

Your footsteps toward him made him jump back.

You were holding a box of band-aids.

You held out your hand, asking for his without words, and he offered both of them to you. First his right, then his left, were covered in pink, green, and yellow band-aids by you.

It was gentle and kind, the way you went about it. Like you would hurt him even more if you weren’t careful.

He still had dried blood under his nails and splinters in his palms. He watched your clean hands holding his beaten up ones and he felt bad, because your skin was too soft to bother with the cuts and calluses on his.

But you held them anyway.

He put his fingers through yours and you didn’t stop him. He wanted to cry.

“I’m just glad you're alright.”

He didn’t know what to say - there wasn’t anything to say, he guessed. Nothing to make it better or change anything.

All he could do was squeeze your hand and watch you wipe tears off your cheeks.

Until he noticed a cut on the back of your hand. He pulled it closer so he could get a better look.

“What happened?”

“I dropped a knife while I was cooking last night. It’s fine.”

It looked fine, but Steve wanted to repay your favor, so he pulled a band-aid from the near empty box and put it on your wound.

“We match,” he said.

You laughed. “We’re even now.”

He felt overwhelmed with melancholy. He needed to rest, he wanted to close his eyes and not open them for weeks.

“I should go check on Robin,” he said as he walked backwards toward the stairs. He kept his eyes to the ground, away from the look on your face. “She’ll flip if she wakes up and she’s alone.”

You said nothing.

…

The following days and weeks were a lot of checking on Robin, and Robin checking on him. Too much waking up in the middle of the night and keeping his eyes glued to his bedroom door just in case. Only feeling safe enough if he had a baseball bat hugged to his chest and Robin snoring next to him.

So - he wasn’t doing well, but it was fine. He tried not to complain about it. Robin was the only person he let himself be half honest with - but he kept the truth to himself, because she’d get anxious if he said what he really felt.

Steve was scared. And he didn’t want anyone else to know it, because all of the others acted as if their lives were perfectly back to normal. They were doing well. So he had to be doing well, too. For their sake.

Weeks after that awful night at the mall, he and Robin conned their way into getting jobs at Family Video. He was grateful, because god, he was too codependent on her.

It was a random night at his place when Robin brought you up out of nowhere.

“I just realized, I never thanked your neighbor for saving us that night.”

“You don’t need to. I’m sure she knows you’re thankful.”

“Yeah, but, I feel like I should pay her back.”

Steve shrugged at her words. He didn’t want to think about you more than he had to - it hurt just a little bit too much.

“Should I give her a gift?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbled. “She likes cookies. Get her cookies.”

And Steve didn’t know it, but the next day, Robin rang your doorbell with a plastic box of cookies in her hands. You opened the door and she started rambling from the get.

“Hey - Steve said you like cookies, so, I decided I’d bring you some to thank you. For showing up at Starcourt in the middle of the night and practically saving our lives. And for letting us sleep on your floor. That was really nice of you.”

You didn’t know what to say. Robin seemed weird. You just went along with it.

“Oh - thanks. That’s cool. Thanks.”

She shoved them toward you, and you took them.

“Do you want to come in?” you asked.

Instead of answering, she just stepped through the door. You brought her to the kitchen.

“I hope they’re good. I just got them at the corner store. But all cookies are the same, right?”

“Well - no, but, it’s the thought that counts.”

“Oh.”

The gifted cookies didn’t look much better than the worst recipes you’d made, but you opened the crude packaging and gave them a chance.

They were fine. Maybe a little worse than fine. You gave Robin one, anyway.

“They’re good!” she said, with a mouth full.

“They are,” you lied. “They’re not homemade, but they’ll do. Thanks, Robin.”

You ate half of your cookie. Robin finished hers. It was quiet.

You figured you might as well try to get to know this girl a bit better. At least be polite and make small talk, just to be nice.

So you asked an easy question. “How long have you and Steve been together?”

But it wasn’t as simple as you thought, because she started coughing up the cookie. “What do you mean?”

“...What?”

“We’re not together,” she said with a heavy dose of sass. “God, I’ll never get over people asking me that. I am not dating Steve Harrington. Gross.”

“Oh - sorry, I just thought -”

“It’s fine,” she said. “Everyone always asks. I guess a guy and a girl can’t be friends without everyone making assumptions.”

You laughed. “Yeah. People used to do the same thing to us. Sorry, I didn’t mean to ask a weird question.”

“It’s alright. Actually, I’m supposed to be at his place in, like - well, ten minutes ago. You should come over if you're free.”

“Uh - I don’t know, me and Steve - we don’t really hang out anymore.”

You aren’t sure why you didn’t just make up an excuse. Something about Robin made you feel okay about being honest.

“It’s cool. I’m sure he’d be happy to see you. It’s kind of been just us since what happened with - the fire. The fire that happened. So - you know. It’d be nice to have someone else around. If you want.”

You were curious how this would turn out. So, “sure. I’ll come.”

“Great. You should bring a cookie for Steve.”

You brought the whole box, and decided you would accidentally forget them at his place so they wouldn’t go to waste.

Steve’s front door was yanked open from the inside before Robin could let herself in, and his wide eyes became a little less wide when he saw her.

“Where the fuck were you - you were supposed to be here half an hour ago, I thought you got fucking eaten or something.”

“Relax. I was just making a cookie delivery next door. Chill.”

Robin threw her thumb over her shoulder. You poked your head out from behind her and gave Steve a weak wave.

“Oh.”

“What exactly would she get eaten by?”

“I don’t know,” Steve shrugged. You noticed he was gripping his car keys in a tight, scarred fist.

“Monsters,” Robin joked. Steve didn’t laugh. You did a little bit. “I invited her over. Is that alright?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

You stuck to Robin all the way to his living room, because that was easier than making yourself comfortable. You hadn’t been in this house in ages, and you weren’t sure what to do with yourself.

“Where’s my crossword?”

“I finished it.”

“Asshole. You know I hate that. Just get your own.”

“Whatever, you suck at them, anyway.”

Robin, unlike you, had no reservations in the Harrington house. She kicked her feet up and started channel surfing as soon as she sat on the couch.

“Have a cookie,” Robin said to Steve. You reached the box out to him; he sat down next to you to take one, taking up the spot between you and Robin.

It was weird being so close to him again. His knee was touching yours, and it made your skin feel too hot. Still, you didn’t move away.

“These are shit,” he said with a full mouth.

“Hey!”

You laughed loud, because you completely agreed.

“No, seriously, these are awful.”

“I spent five dollars on those!”

You gasped. “Five? Robin.”

“You should have just given her the money instead. Or thrown it in the trash.” Steve dropped his half eaten cookie back in the box. You put the plastic lid back on and sat it on the coffee table.

“I thought they were good. You’re being so rude right now. They were a gift.”

Steve looked at you. “You didn’t tell her how bad they are?”

“I didn’t - I don’t think they’re that bad.”

“You’re lying,” Steve laughed, then he turned to Robin. “She’s lying.”

“I’m not lying!”

“I know you, and I know you’re lying.”

“It’s fine, guys, you don’t have to spare my feelings or anything.”

You sighed, defeated. “...They are pretty terrible.”

Robin scoffed loud and obnoxious.

“Whatever. I’ll enjoy them.”

…

As it turns out, Robin acted like glue between you and Steve. Neither of you would have ever made an effort to see each other again, out of embarrassment or guilt or both, but Robin didn’t have to unpack any of that baggage. She didn’t even know it existed.

Instead, she immediately saw you as a friend. And she brought you in like she had known you forever.

But Robin and Steve were a package deal. So, if you were a friend to her, you had to be a friend to him, too.

And the two of them were weird. Most of the time, they left you feeling like a third wheel on their friendship.

They could be mean to each other. Rough. They acted the exact way you knew siblings do, but that was only surface level. There was something deeper - more than anything a brother and sister had, because it wasn’t the blood in their veins that connected them. It was the roots they chose to grow into each other that kept them together.

Robin spent the night with Steve more often than she didn’t. And she bullied him for his bad cooking, and he told her when an outfit was ugly, and they stood next to each other like two puzzle pieces that didn’t match but fit together with a hard press.

Sometimes you sat on the sidelines and ached, mourning a friendship that had been buried some odd years ago. It was well beyond rotten - something decayed and unrecognizable now. Even if you dug it up, it couldn’t be the same as it was.

But you wished.

And as you sat and listened to Robin chastise Steve for saying something dumb - watched as he meddled her hair into a purposeful mess, you could only laugh and sink into yourself. You were happy and sad; you cherished your time together and dreaded it, all at the same time.

Above it all, Steve was different. Distant in the way he would never meet your eyes, or laugh too loud at your jokes, or sit too close for too long.

It all felt fleeting. Like that week you spent angry at him - stuck in a weird limbo, between friends and strangers, a frustrating purgatory. Some kind of Schrodinger’s Cat of a friendship - alive and dead at the same time.

You would have just said something, if it felt like you could. But if Steve minded, he didn’t show it. If he missed how things were, he didn’t act like it. And, as you knew him, if he wanted to he would.

And it wasn’t totally bad. It was just new. You’d get used to it with a spoonful of sugar and a hard swallow.

On a random day, you had mentioned off-hand that you had been meaning to visit your aunt’s apartment to drop off and pick up a few things. Steve offered to take you, and you agreed, and the next day, you made good on your plans.

The two of you didn’t hang out without Robin very often. Since early August, the number was hardly a handful. But with the radio turned on, it wasn’t too awkward.

Steve had visited your aunt with you several times growing up. He went to her house-warming party when she moved into her apartment. You were thirteen, and you made a game of pressing every button in the elevator before getting off it. Now, every time you’re there, you think about how you used to chase him down the halls.

Her place was the nicest there was in Hawkins, in the tallest residential building in town. Parking was a nightmare, but Steve kept his complaints under his breath, and he even carried your bag for you.

The elevator was the only thing in the apartment’s lobby. As you pressed the button, Steve spoke up.

“You wanna take the stairs instead?”

“Why?”

He shrugged. You laughed.

“You want to climb eight flights of stairs? No thanks.”

“I’m an athlete,” he mumbled under his breath, sheepish. “This thing is taking forever, anyways.”

It dinged as it finally started moving down toward the bottom floor.

“It’s on its way.”

He stepped back, looked around, and he must have spotted the stairwell. “I’ll race you,” and then he took off.

The elevator door opened as the stairway’s door closed, and you rode to the top floor alone.

He didn’t win the race - far from it, and you laughed as he tried to hide his struggling breathing.

“Been waiting for you all day, athlete. Thought you’d take ‘til Christmas.”

“Psh. Whatever. I’ll win on the way down.”

The elevator creaked and hummed as it started moving down, and Steve glared at it.

You laughed, “You’re weird,” and you left him behind to walk down the hall.

He worked fast to catch up, and called out, “The loser pays for dinner!”

“You know I’d never pass up that bet.”

Your aunt wasn’t home - she rarely was. But a key was under the mat, and as you walked inside her tuxedo cat, Webster, greeted you at the door.

“Hey, dude,” Steve said, kneeling down to pet him.

An old cardboard box sat on the dining table nearby, “Glassware” written on the side in crude permanent marker. It’s what you had been instructed to pick up and take back home - you weren’t sure what was inside.

You sat down and opened it and pulled out the first thing you saw: a white paper bag, one you knew printed photos came in.

“This what you came for?”

Steve stood next to you. He had Webster in his arms, who was purring loud and melting into his hand.

“Yeah.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t know. Family stuff, I’m guessing.” You pulled out a fat stack of pictures and the one on top made you bark a laugh. “Oh my god.”

You and Steve, seven years old, wearing matching cowboy costumes for Halloween - you with a white cowboy hat, him with a black one. You stood with a jack-o-lantern between you. You had your hands on your hips and a frown on your face; Steve had his chin pushed out in a wicked scowl.

You turned it to him, and he laughed just as loud as you. “Look at those two mean mugs!”

“Do you remember this?”

He sat in the chair next to you, continuing to look at the photo over your shoulder. Webster made himself comfortable in his lap.

“Yeah,” he laughed, “We fought all night because you stole my -”

“Oh my god.”

“You stole my full size Snickers.”

“I did not!”

“You did.”

“I didn’t!”

The way he looked at you told you this was still a sore subject.

“You went ahead of me to the Smith’s place while I was trying to tie my shoe and you took her last bar. That’s what happened!”

“That’s not stealing!”

“It is!”

“I didn’t mean to leave you behind! It’s not my fault you didn’t know how to tie your shoes!”

“You didn’t, either. And, I learned before you.”

You puffed a sigh and flipped the photo to the back of the stack. “Why are you still fighting over this? We shared all the candy, anyway.”

“It’s the principle. Theft is a crime, and you never apologized.”

You only laughed. No way were you giving him that apology now.

When you pulled the photos out of the box, you didn’t intend on looking through them all, but your curiosity kept you flicking through them. Most were of random family members or photos of the beach, but pictures of you and Steve were littered throughout the stack. There wasn’t a single photo of you that didn’t have him in it, too.

There were from some first days of school, birthday parties, sleepovers. They were sorted somewhat chronologically - looking through them was pure nostalgia, memories hitting you at every angle as you watched yourself grow up.

The next one to catch your eye was from a middle school dance. Neither of you wanted to attend, but your mother insisted. Your one condition was that you could wear whatever you wanted.

So you and Steve had swapped styles. You wore his way oversized Atlanta Flames jersey, a baseball cap, and sneakers that didn’t fit; he had on your purple sweater, a big pearl necklace, and white jeans.

It was cute, and it was goofy, and you wished you could jump into the picture and relive it.

At that age, the only thing you knew was that you and Steve would live forever, together. Now that you know what you know, your heart ached for the little girl in these pictures. What would she think about the space between you two now?

There were pictures from summer camp, swimming pools, and your first day of high school.

Webster meowed. Steve meowed back at him.

As you got to the bottom of the stack, pictures of the two of you were less and less. The last one - the one you didn’t know would be your last picture with him - was of you, him, and a few of your extended family members. A day spent at the lake that Steve really didn’t want to go to, for some reason only an angsty teenage boy could understand, that you dragged him to. It was the summer before your junior year.

In the photo, his arm was draped completely over your shoulder. You remembered him leaning all of his weight on you - to the point that you fell out of your seat after the picture was taken by your aunt.

And you had fun, like you always did. Steve became a member of your family out of happenstance. It was just because he was always around, really. They all saw him as much as they saw you.

You put that photo to the back of the stack and kept carding through them. You didn’t find any more pictures of you and Steve.

The rest were all more recent. Steve stopped you on one that was of you alone - sat at a dinner table, wearing a cable knit sweater.

“That’s a good one,” he said.

“Yeah. It’s from Christmas. Senior year, maybe.”

You acted like you weren’t sure, but you knew exactly when that photo was taken. You just didn’t want him to know how sad you were in it.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” and you laughed, “this was not a fun party.” He didn’t reply, and so you kept talking, sparing him a shy glance. “Everyone kept asking where you were.”

The silence was heavier this time.

“Oh,” he said, trying to bury it. “Yeah.” An awkward chuckle. “I bet that was annoying.”

You laughed and tried to make it sound real - tried to seem like you didn’t care. “Yeah, well, you know how my family always liked you better.”

He shrugged, looking like he was going to make a joke, but he didn’t. His eyes were distant as they moved down to his lap.

You shoved the picture to the back with the rest.

The one behind it was just as lonely.

Still, Steve perked up at it. “Is that from graduation?”

You wore a cap and gown, you held a bouquet of flowers, and you stood all alone.

“Yeah.”

Steve’s hand wrapped around yours holding the picture, and he tilted it toward him so he could get a better look.

“My aunt kept trying to get me to find you for a picture,” you laughed.

“You should’ve.” He smiled something big and real, and you realized with a rush that this is the closest you’d been to him in a while. If you kept looking, you could count the freckles on his cheek. His thumb pressed into the back of your hand. “I remember seeing you. You looked real cute.”

You ignored his compliment to say something snide. “I ignored you so hard.”

Another laugh, “Really?”

“Obviously.”

“Yeah. That’s fair - I would’ve, too.”

You tried not to think about how badly you wished he was standing next to you in the picture.

Steve spoke up, “I -” but you cut him off by accident.

“It’s fine.”

You didn’t mean it. He could tell.

“...Is it?”

It was honest when you replied, “I don’t know.”

He was still holding your hand.

“I never told you I’m sorry.”

“I guess I just figured you were.”

You dropped the pictures on the table, dropping his hand with them.

“Is that good enough?” It was an honest question.

“I don’t know. Maybe it is.”

And your answer was genuine, because you didn’t know. Steve had come back into your life just as easily as he left it - on a whim, without any warning. You didn’t put any roadblocks in his way.

But you stared at the photos spread out in front of you. At the story they told of your friendship that would always be unfinished.

You had to teach yourself how to do life without him. All of those lessons seemed useless, now, because here he was. And you didn’t even know if he ever missed you.

You pulled away from him, a move that was far more snappy than you meant. You did it like he’d reached out and burned you. It had Webster jumping down to the floor.

“It’s fine,” you repeated.

“I think you’re lying just to make me feel better.”

“I don’t know why I’m lying.”

“We don’t have to talk about it now,” he mumbled, and you stood up. The chair scraped the floor in a way that grated your ears. You turned your back to him.

“I thought I knew you.” Your eyes welled up, your nose started to run. You balled your hands up like you were on defense. “I thought you would say sorry, and make everything go back to normal like you always did. But you didn’t. I thought you would miss me, at least, but - but you didn’t.”

“You think I didn’t miss you?”

The shake in his voice had your fist dropping to hit your thighs, defeated.

“I miss you more than anything. I’m sorry - I’m not just saying it to make you feel better, or because I have to, I - I don’t even deserve to be saying it.” He paused, and you could imagine the way he was running his hands through his hair and pacing around with nerves. “I’m sorry for being a bad friend. For not treating you like you deserved - I hate myself for it. You were the best thing in my life, and I know that now. I was just too scared to come crawling back to you because I wasn’t worth your time.”

You breathed in deep, exhaled hard, and it felt like the first breath you had taken in two years. It was that feeling when you’ve forgotten your keys but find the door unlocked - the relief of being let in despite a mistake, it rushed through you, and it had you turning to look at him. You found him standing and staring at you, through you, with glassy eyes you would always know.

“I just miss you, Steve.”

Three steps and then he was around you. And you were safer than a child hiding under their blanket from whatever lurked in their closet - monsters weren’t real if his arms were around you. That had always, always been true.

Webster rubbed up against your leg, then Steve’s. The hug shook with both of your laughter, and he held you tighter.

…

Things didn’t go back to how they used to be after that, but it was close enough. And you were trying to settle into the differences that kept knocking you off your feet.

It started with late night phone calls.

Before, you never talked on the phone. Why would you when his house was a stone throw away? If you wanted to talk, you’d invite yourself to his place.

But the two of you were still dancing on the ripped edges of that two year old fight. Wounds were still healing - almost there, but not quite. So it was easier to take it slow, to treat this time as something brand new.

And it was brand new.

You had caught yourself grinning ear to ear over stories he’d tell you, and you had to force the smile off your face. Like you shouldn’t be acting that way over your friend - you quickly realized you just couldn’t help it.

He’d keep you up too late and tease you for it the next day. And you weren’t sure if he was trying to get a rise out of you, but that’s how you felt. He acted so smug after seeing your cheeks swell in embarrassment.

So it wasn’t going back to how it was before. In fact, it was going down an entirely different road - one that wasn’t even on the map.

You weren’t complaining, because you felt things you hadn't felt before around him. He made you feel warm, and you were addicted to it. You were addicted to him, and you had blind hope that the feeling was mutual.

He’d spend his entire lunch break visiting you, even if your breaks didn’t line up. He’d follow you around the apparel section at Roses and you’d have all your attention on him, just the way he liked it. He made sure to see you every day.

You never thought he’d make you feel so shy, but it was an emotion you couldn’t get enough of. You hardly realized what you were spiraling into until you’d catch him looking at you with a blush on his cheeks, or until you had to stop yourself from thinking about him every night before bed.

But there was something glaring, something major, something you couldn’t look at directly until it came up in conversation with Robin.

Robin and Steve always had Sundays off, so the day was designated to be stolen by their other friends - who were all in junior high.

When you asked why they were friends with junior high kids, Steve called himself their babysitter. Robin said she was their good influence. You avoided asking follow up questions.

It was a lazy autumn day, one where the warmth of fallen leaves reflected in the air - something rare for early November.

The youngest of the kids, Erica, loved putting on a nice outfit and going for a walk. Today it was yellow Chucks, a red silk and pleated maxi skirt, and a long sleeve button up with a rainbow of vertical stripes. (It would have been a tie dyed short sleeve, if Steve hadn’t told her it was too chilly for it.) She had stuck gems beside her eyes, the kind that come in the plastic packets and don’t stay on for long, and Robin packed yellow eyeshadow on her eyelids.

She was downright cute, but if you told the eleven year old that she’d aim her sass at you and shoot to kill. She much preferred receiving a refined compliment, because, “I hear that all the time.”

Today, you told her you loved the way she paired so many colors together. She grinned something beautiful and kicked her foot up behind her and agreed with you.

Steve had once described her as a menace - you didn’t understand why.

You walked with Robin a few feet behind Erica, Dustin, and Steve. Dustin had not stopped talking the whole time, except when Erica butted in. Steve had stolen the younger boy’s thinking cap hat and was wearing it backwards.

“The last time I wore this coat, I found two phone numbers in the pocket.” Robin held up two fingers and gestured to the Letterman jacket she wore. It was Steve’s. “Can you believe that? I mean, what a douche. I wouldn’t even wear this if it wasn’t so warm.”

You laughed. “Yeah, I believe it, actually. They were probably from some cheerleaders or something.”

“Yeah, well, he can’t get any numbers these days. He’s cursed to be forever lame as punishment for the jerk he was in high school.” Robin was smirking wicked and wide, like it was satisfying for her.

“He’s lost all his charm?”

“All of it. I mean, one hundred percent. I used to keep count of how many times he fell on his face in front of girls. It’s magnificent, truly.” Then, quieter, “He’ll get it back, though. One day.”

“He used to have no trouble at all.” The conversation had the gears in your head turning; it had you speaking without thinking. “I don’t know. He’s really different now.”

Robin laughed, like you were joking. “Yeah, he learned manners, for one.”

“It’s not that.” You were thinking out loud. “He’s nicer, yeah, but… it’s almost like he’s not even the same person. I’m not sure what happened.”

The Steve you knew was boisterous. He was unapologetic. He was stupidly confident, the life of the party, and he wasn’t afraid of anything. A wouldn’t take no for an answer, go with the flow, drop of the hat kind of person.

You were lucky to know him when that’s all he was. Before the halls of Hawkins High swallowed him and spit out someone ornery who cared too much but not at all.

You thought it was just Tommy and Carol’s influence. Now that he wasn’t their friend anymore, you thought he’d become who he used to be.

“He told me how close you two were before,” Robin said. She was tugging on a strand of hair that was stuck in her lip gloss. “I guess I never knew him like you did.”

“He’s so quiet now. He used to be so loud.” You meant it more than literally - you hoped Robin would understand. “I don’t know. So much changed and it’s only been a couple years.”

It seemed like she was struggling to reply, because it took her more than a few seconds to get her words out.

“I guess - I mean - I think you’ve probably changed a lot, too. Two years is a long time, right?”

Robin knew. No one could tell, but she knew.

Maybe the differences that you had described of Steve were really there. She wasn’t able to see them the way you could, but she didn’t care. It was selfish to admit that she would never change a thing about him - but one.

He was waiting.

Everyone was, she thinks.

Waiting for another fight.

It wasn’t easy to go back to normal after trudging through hell. It was like coming out the other side of trench warfare unharmed - you didn’t. When a gun fires, its bullets hit. If a bomb is dropped it doesn’t miss a fucking thing, and Starcourt Mall was goddamn ground zero.

And Robin wasn’t there for the disappearance of Will Byers. The death of Barbra Holland. The Upside Down. The Demogorgon. The Demodogs, and the lab, and the girl with psychic powers. She wasn’t there, but Steve was.

Her head hurt just thinking of the stories he’s told her. And she knew his did, too, more often than he’d admit to her.

And she felt bad when her sleeping patterns went back to normal but his didn’t. When she got used to being on edge all the time, Steve still jumped at any noise. His phone would ring and she would watch him prepare himself to answer it - to hear Dustin’s voice on the line telling him that it’s back.

So when you said that Steve’s changed, Robin didn’t know what to tell you. You were right, and she knew that, but she couldn’t tell you why. You knew everything about him besides, well - everything.

Robin wished she didn’t have to know, either. She wanted to tell you that you should be grateful you couldn’t see the shackles on his ankles. You got to know him before - and Robin would give anything for that.

But she couldn’t change a thing.

Instead, all she could do was wait.

And lie.

And pretend.

“He’s still loud,” she said, uncomfortable as all get out.

As if he heard her words, Steve busted out in a stomach hurting kind of laughter at one of Dustin’s stories.

“See what I mean?”

Your destination was in sight now. Steve turned around - letting Dustin steal his hat back - walking backwards, and reached a hand out to you.

“You coming?”

Your pace turned into a skipping sort of jog to catch up with him. When you were close enough he grabbed your hand and didn’t let go. He’d been doing that often.

The kids and Robin broke away, heading for the tiny park that was up on your right. To your left, Steve tugged you to a tiny convenience store.

“Place your orders!” he called.

Dustin and Erica shouted at the same time. Steve mumbled something about not being able to understand them, so you relayed their messages.

“You’re getting two things! No more than that!” he shouted back. “Robin?”

“7-Up.”

“What else?”

“Surprise me!”

You hung onto his arm as you walked into the store, and you weren’t even sure why. He never pulled away when you got that close, so you kept going back.

You went for the drink coolers first. He reached for the apple juice.

“She likes orange juice the best, now,” you said.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“You better be right - if she’s mad at me over this, I’ll be mad at you.”

You rounded up all the snacks everyone wanted, following Steve’s only two items rule. You laughed when he chose plain potato chips as Robin’s surprise - the blandest possible choice. And while he checked out at the counter, you wandered off into the aisles.

He acted like he didn’t want you to go, pulling you back and asking a quiet, “where’re you going?”

“To look around.”

It was straight to the candy aisle for a Blow Pop for Erica, Pop Rocks for Dustin, and sour gummy worms to share. You liked spoiling them - it helped to get on their good side.

You made a stop at the candy bars to grab a Snickers bar before going back to the counter, and Steve immediately shook his head when he saw you.

“What are you doing? What’s all that?”

“It’s all for me.” You dropped it all for the clerk to scan.

“All of it?”

“Yeah.”

“Even though you said you didn’t want anything?”

“I changed my mind!”

He sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, and you watched his hand move to his back pocket.

“Don’t you dare.”

His wallet was half way out of his pocket as he laughed. “What?”

“You’re not paying. Stop.” You tried to sound mad, and felt you were doing a good job, but he kept giggling at you.

“Oh, are you my boss now?”

“Yes, Steve,” and you bumped into him, trying to push him away. “Don’t make me say your full name.”

“Just let me -”

“Take their things to them! Go!”

You were shocked when he listened, but he only made it as far as the door. He stood against the glass with his arms crossed, staring at you until you finally followed him.

“What are you looking at?”

He pushed his back into the door to open it. “Trying to figure it out.�� He reached for your hand, and you swatted it away, only for him to catch you, anyway. And you let him hold your hand, all the way across the street to the park.

Your friends sat at a picnic table waiting patiently. It was actually two tables pushed together, doubling the normal length; Erica and Dustin sat opposite each other on one end, and Robin sat in the middle, crisscrossed on top of the table.

Steve divvied snacks to grabby hands, and you snuck their surprise treats in to the sound of thank yous.

You took your seat on the other end of the table across from Steve. When you sat down, he put a bottle of Coke between you.

“Are you going to share?” you asked.

“Only if you’ve got something to give me in return.”

The Snickers bar made a thud on the wooden table. Steve hummed. “I guess that’s good enough.”

You were almost happy with the trade until you realized, “No bottle opener?”

His eyes doubled their size. “Shit.” Then, he grabbed the bottle. “No, it's a twist off.” The noise he made as he tried taking off the cap was something like a squeak, and everyone at the table laughed.

“Just walk back to the store!”

“Dustin - Dustin! Do you -”

The boy slid a large key ring down the table. It was a wad of keys, keychains, and gadgets.

“It’s on there somewhere.”

There was a mini flashlight, a laser pointer, a plastic Q*bert charm, a pocket knife, keys and keys and keys, a kubaton, and, “Yes!” a bottle opener.

“This is why I keep you around, Henderson.”

“I’m the one keeping you guys around, first of all.”

You grabbed the Coke and guzzled a couple drinks worth in one go, and when you put it back down, Steve had already eaten half the candy bar in one bite.

“Steve!”

His mouth was full when he said, “What?”

“Why can’t you share? Why didn’t anyone ever teach you about sharing?” His laugh was sweeter than the chocolate he was shoving into your face. “Stop, I don’t wanna eat after you.”

“We’ve got the same germs,” he said, and he was feeding you the Snickers before you could make another argument.

The snacks were all gone much quicker than it took to walk and get them, because none of you would ever learn to savor the destination. Regardless, next Sunday, you’d all be sitting in the same spot - give or take a few others, creating a good day for yourselves.

And, if you were lucky, Steve would be holding your hand the whole time.

...

It didn’t matter who you were cheering for on the court, you hated high school basketball games.

Going to Lucas’s game brought back far too many memories than you’d care to recollect. But even though you hated it, you were still filled with pride watching the boy play the game so well.

And Steve hadn’t shut up about it all night. He spoke about Lucas shooting the buzzer beating winning basket like he was recounting a grand story - something from a movie or a comic book. Like you weren’t sitting beside him the entire time.

You stood with him in his kitchen, and the excitement had finally started to settle. You and Steve had spent far too long talking about how weird it was to be back in the high school gym, and both of you agreed that you didn’t miss it at all.

“Is Robin excited for spring break?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “She said she’s spending the entire week here so she can be as lazy as she wants, so - I guess she is.”

You threw a weak fist into his shoulder and he caught it. “What’s wrong with that?”

“She’s gonna steal all my time!” His grin was contagious as he slotted his fingers into yours. “And that means I can’t steal all of yours.”

“Does that mean I’m finally getting a break from you?” You laughed, but he didn’t.

It was weird, the way his entire demeanor changed in a snap. Before you could even take back the joke you made he was shifting his eyes and dropping his grin.

He had always worn his heart on his sleeve, even if he tried hiding it.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” It was a hand through his hair that said the opposite, but you’d never call out his tells. “I just - that reminded me there was actually something I wanted to talk to you about.” He dropped your hand to cross his arms, and it had you feeling nervous.

“What about? …Did I do something wrong?”

“No, honey.” You weren’t sure when that nickname came around, or when it started to stick, but it had a fairy fluttering its wings in your chest. He started to reach for you again, you could see it, but he stopped himself. “You could never do anything wrong.”

You laughed quiet. “Neither could you.”

You moved to stand next to him, mirroring the way his back leaned against the counter. Your arm pressed to his. He was looking at the floor; you were looking at him.

“Are you sure?” It started as a whisper but jumped into a shake, a crack in his voice that said more than he wanted to. And he looked at you, to see if you caught it, and you swore his eyes were shining. He didn’t show them to you for longer than a moment.

“Steve?”

“I just - I don’t want to fuck this up again.”

“How would that even happen?”

He looked at you like he knew something you didn’t. “I don’t know.”

You nudged his arm with your elbow, again and again, until his crossed arms dropped. Your pointer finger snaked around his, and the touch brought enough bravery out of him to link his fingers with yours.

“What do you know?”

He scoffed into a smile, one big enough to reach his eyes, and it brought him out of his funk. “I don’t know,” he said, moving closer to you as he made the joke.

“That’s what I thought,” you replied. “Not a thought going on in your head.”

Making him laugh was the key to his heart - you knew that, and it worked this time as well as it always had.

He had his head turned, cheek to shoulder, staring down at you; you were so close, you could watch his eyes move across your face and know where he was looking. They wandered, but when his gaze lingered on your lips - you noticed.

“I know one thing for sure,” he said.

When you took a loud breath, you’re sure he heard. He gave you eye contact again, and maybe you were seeing things, but you swore you saw question marks swimming in the green.

He didn’t breathe. You didn’t blink. You moved forward just a hair, and he looked back down, so you pressed on. You wanted to be closer, as close as you could get - it was curiosity or desperation, you didn’t know.

When he tilted his chin toward you, it was hardly noticeable. But you saw it, and it was enough. Your nose was just about to touch his - you watched his eyes close, right before yours did. There was nothing to do but move closer, closer, closer.

And then, when you felt just the softest graze of his skin on yours -

BAM! BAM! BAM!

You jumped back from each other like same-side magnets, gasping and jumping at the sound of loud knocks on the front door.

He moved fast, like he was looking for a way out, leaving you alone in the kitchen. “Shit.”

Steve had a good idea of who he’d see when he opened the door. The knob was jingling when he unlocked it, then pulled it open.

Sure enough, Robin. Wearing a flannel that was his, with wild bedhead that he couldn’t help laughing at.

“Did you walk here?”

“Yeah,” she croaked. “Let me in.”

It was written all over her face why she was there, and Steve felt bad.

Even though she asked to come in, she didn’t move. Her features were all scrunched up, her shoulders were hunched into her crossed arms.

“Robin -”

“I fucking hate this.” Loud, echoing into the night and through his door. “I hate it, Steve, and I swear - I swear it’s not over.” Her eyes wet her cheeks; she looked at him through tears. “It’s going to happen again. I can feel it. And I’m scared.”

He had to pull her inside, because he knew she’d stand in the same spot all night if he didn’t. She pushed into him, shoving her face into his shoulder, wiping her tears on his shirt.

“You just need to rest,” he told her.

She spoke something pitiful, not caring that her words were muffled. “The gate’s really closed, right? For sure?”

“It’s over, Robin, it was just a nightmare - you just need some good sleep, alright?”

She nodded, wiped her runny nose into her sleeve, and tried pulling her tears back in.

“I wish I could sleep anywhere else.”

“I know.” It wasn’t any sort of jab - it was just the truth. The only time she was truly afraid was when she slept alone.

She hit a fist into his chest, something playful that made things feel a little more okay, and then took herself to the stairs.

“I’ll be up in a minute to stand guard,” he joked. She barely laughed but it was enough, and he watched her until he couldn’t see her anymore.

And he hoped you hadn’t heard anything, because he wouldn’t be able to answer any questions you had. When he found you in the kitchen you looked nothing but concerned.

“Is she okay?”

All you knew was that she had nightmares about the mall fire. It was a realistic excuse, in comparison to the unbelievable truth.

“Yeah. You know how she is.”

You nodded. Steve wasn’t sure how to go back to the talk you were having before, so he avoided it.

You spoke first. “I hope she’s alright.”

“I should probably go be with her,” he said.

You were perfectly okay with it, understanding as always. “Yeah. She needs you.”

He walked you to the door, and it was too brief for his taste. But when you were there, he spoke up.

“I’m sorry. Can we finish this tomorrow, maybe? I promise - I… I really did want to talk.”

“Of course,” you said, and it was shy. “Don’t be sorry, Steve, she’s more important right now. We can talk any time.”

His arms wrapped around your shoulders for a crushing hug. “I’ll call you in the morning, okay? Before work. We can make plans then.”

And that was it - he watched you make your walk home until you walked into your front door, and that was it.

The moment was ruined, and he might not be able to make it happen again.

…

Steve didn’t call you the next morning.

part two!!!!

#my writing #perhaps the only steve fic i will ever write #if there are typos in this i. lmao i will rage #this took forever this is so fucking long if no one reads it i dont blame truly #anyway #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #fluff #angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you

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missjomarch · 2 years ago

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In My Blood

Pairing: Luca Fantilli x reader Word Count: 1.6k Warnings: anxiety, panic attack A/N: unedited (per usual), but I got tired of rereading it lol. Here's some slight angst for your Tuesday. Slightly inspired by ‘In My Blood’ by Shawn Mendes. Happy 4th to those who celebrate!

You had gotten yourself into this situation, really. With a history of anxiety, and a tendency to push yourself past your limits, you should’ve been a little more prepared for this time of year. It was late November, and with the holidays and finals week quickly approaching, you were wound tighter than a drum. This had been one of the most academically challenging semesters of college yet, and you needed a decent grade on your finals to maintain your scholarship eligibility. Not only that, but to maintain the approval of your overbearing parents. You had returned from thanksgiving break with a renewed fear of failure after your parents spent the holiday reminding you that if you fell below a 3.0 they wouldn’t continue to help you pay for college.

Managing the challenges of school was difficult enough, but this year you started your internship with Michigan Athletics as well. You joined the hockey media team in August, and it’s been the best part of your college career so far. Going to practices, media days, and games were always the highlight of your week. You had already been close friends with most of the team as you’d started dating Luca last year, and being a media girl just gave you an excuse to tag along to even more team events. You loved this team and position with your whole heart. However, it doesn’t come without its own stressors.

You were already anxious, but it only multiplied when Kristy, the head of staff for media, pulled you into her office today towards the end of practice. She had never been unkind to you, but she was incredibly cut-throat and always strictly business. So when she implied that you weren’t adequately performing your media duties, it shouldn’t have felt so personal. However, it left you feeling incredibly deflated and underappreciated. As a perfectionist, you often lived to please other people. So the disappointed tone of Kristy’s voice sent you spiraling.

After the rather one - sided conversation on how you ‘could be better’, you were left feeling like a scolded child. You could already feel the weight gathering in your chest before she even finished speaking, and before you left, she assigned you yet another promotional project to finish by the end of the week. It was all you could do to mumble a ‘yes ma’am’ before bolting out of her office.

The tears were already falling by the time you reached the end of the hallway, hands trembling as you rounded corner after corner. You didn’t know where you were going, but you needed to find somewhere to calm down. Yost was like your second home, but with every turn you took your breath quickened even more. Your brain screaming at you as you practically sprinted through the arena, panic was setting in. The thoughts were so loud that you didn’t even register the person in front of you until you rounded the corner and slammed right into their chest.

The body let out an umph at the impact, hands instinctively finding your shoulders. As you looked up, hot tears burning your face, you were met with the familiar eyes of Adam Fantilli. He observed your frantic appearance, and his face immediately scrunched with concern.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?”

Adam’s question was met with silence, but he could feel the panic radiating off you. You only cried harder as he stared down at you, your hand involuntarily moving to claw at your throat. Adam quickly pulled you down the hallway and into an empty trainer’s room, closing the door behind him.

“What happened?” Adam tried again, but you only shook your head. You were beginning to hyperventilate, and your whole body was now trembling. Suddenly feeling too feeble to stand, you sank down into the chair beside you.

Adam finally realized the severity of the situation and conceded, “Okay, okay. Stay here, I’m gonna go get Luca.”

You barely registered anything from his parting sentence, aside from your boyfriend’s name. All you could hear was the booming of your own pulse and the shaky, shallow breaths you barely managed to inhale. You knew you should try to control your breathing, but it felt like someone had placed a cement block atop your lungs. Your hand rubbed absent mindedly at the aching pain in your chest as you tried to shake the feeling of impending doom. The world felt like it was ending, but you were frozen. Condemned to watch it happen. Just as the dizziness began to set in someone appeared in front of you. It took you a moment to recognize that it was your boyfriend, Luca, who kneeled before you. He was speaking, but you couldn’t hear him over the ringing in your ears.

“Luca?” you breathed, peering down at him through your tears.

He had a tight grip on your trembling hands, “I’m here, love. What’s going on?”

You had been slightly distracted by his sudden appearance, but now you were back in your previous state of panic.

Sobs wracked your body as you heaved, “I can’t breathe, Lu.” Your tone was painfully pleading, and shattered Luca’s heart into a million pieces. He had never heard your pain so clearly, and he would’ve done anything in that moment to take it away. Luca had only been with you through a panic attack once before, but he remembered the calming mechanisms you had talked about with your therapist.

“I’m going to help you, okay?” Luca attempted, but you weren’t looking at him. He reached up to brush your hair away from your face, knowing he had to get your focus back on him before he could help you.

“Y/N,” Luca’s voice was sterner this time, and you slid your eyes to meet his. “I need you here with me right now, love.” You heard him this time, the pounding of your pulse subsiding with his soothing tone. You gave him a slight nod to signal that you understood.

Luca stood and lifted you from your chair before settling you both in the floor. His back rested against the wall, and he pulled you to sit between his legs, back pressed to his chest. With the new proximity, Luca could feel your trembling completely. You usually didn’t want to be touched while in your current state, but you allowed him to wrap his arms around your chest. His hold was grounding, and you could feel your heart rate slow as he encouraged you to breathe with him.

“Deep breath in, baby. There you go,” Luca encouraged. He counted you off, making sure you exhaled for the full eight count. When he felt that your breathing had mostly returned to normal, he moved on to your counting exercise. He knew he needed to keep you distracted to prevent the panic from returning.

“What’s 100 minus 7?” Luca prompted, encouraging you to continue the exercise. He didn’t correct your math, instead allowing you to repeat the technique over and over. The fog that was clouding your brain began to clear with every inhale, and you could already feel the exhaustion taking over your body. Luca noticed, too. He felt your body growing heavy in his hold, your previously ridged state ebbing away as you counted.

“You feel better now?” Luca asked, voice barely rising above a whisper. You only nodded, too fatigued to really carry on a conversation. He placed a kiss to your temple before readjusted you in his arms to fully look at each other. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You thought for a moment. You did want to, knowing you’d feel better after you shared the burden with Luca. However, you currently had neither the energy nor the words to explain what had made you so upset. You croaked out a simple ‘later’, knowing Luca would understand your intentions. He nodded and left it at that.

Luca shifted, “Let’s get you home. We can take a nap.” He pulled you up from your place on the floor, and you immediately wrapped your arms around his waist. He hugged you back, placing soft kisses and mumbling comforts into your hair. He didn’t pull away until you did, and even then, he still left his arm around you as he led you back through the arena.

Adam was waiting outside, your backpack in hand. He gave you a soft smile as you approached, and you mumbled a thank you before hugging him as well. Neither of the boys had a car, but you were able to get a ride back to the house with Luke. You were thankful not only for the reprieve from the cold, but also to be able to cuddle up with Luca in the backseat.

It took less than 10 minutes to get back to Luca and Adam’s shared apartment, and you bid Luke a soft goodbye before Luca practically carried you up the stairs. You stood silently as he changed you into one of his sweatshirts before pulling you to the bed. Your head rested on his chest, his steady heart beat in your ears drastically different from the previous pounding of yours. His hand rubbed your back in slow, comforting circles as you let your body relax into his completely.

“Thank you,” you mumbled into his chest. You couldn’t see him, but you knew if you looked up you’d be met with an incredulous stare. It sent a whisper of a smile across your face.

“Don’t thank me, baby. I’d do anything to make sure you didn’t have to feel that way ever again.” Your heart warmed at his sentiment, and you leaned up to place a small peck to his lips. You silently thanked the universe for sending you such a sweet boy as you let his warmth overtake you, slipping into the sweet darkness of sleep.

#luca fantilli x reader #umich hockey #luca fantilli #hockey

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festivetopgun2024 · 1 month ago

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Good morning Aviators,

Under the cut, a reminder and more info about both events.

Know that it might be possible I get shitty connection during the revealing week, for a short period of time…So if it happens, there might be delays on my side. I prefer to warn you folks, just in case. My sincerest apologies if it ever does… <3

Rarepair Secret Santa Exchange:

Whenever you’re done with your art/fic, contact me (tumblr/discord/email) to know the identity of your giftee.

Upload your art or fic to the Ao3 Collection. It’s been opened for you.

Reveal starts on December 25th, ends on January 1st. You’ll be notified at least a CET-day prior. (Timezones are tricky) Or as soon as you got mentioned in a tumblr post. The idea is to reveal works so we enjoy daily new content during the week. Also, don’t forget to change the date of publication on the archive. 😉

Don’t hesitate to promote your art/fic on your own Tumblr. If you do, please use the @festivetopgun2024 tag for easier reblog.

If you need more time, or to drop out of the exchange, let me know as soon as possible. <3

Icemav/Hangster Prompt Week:

Ao3

As of now, you can start uploading your fanworks (*) to the Ao3 Collection.

(*)What kinds of fanworks can I post?AO3 allows a wide range of fanworks other than fanfiction, including but not limited to art, videos, crafts, games, fanmixes, authorized podfics, authorized translations, fannish nonfiction, original fiction, and more. You can post any non-commercial, non-ephemeral fanwork.Source: Ao3 Terms of Service FAQ (read for more information and context)

Fanworks should be approved-moderated based on their corresponding Day.

As I’ve repeatedly said, you can use the prompts how ever you like, so I may be winging it a bit in terms of deciding when to approve-moderate during the promotional week.

Late additions are absolutely allowed! So, no worries if you can’t make it during the promotional week, especially considering you might be busy at that time of year. Reveals will happen later for you, is all. 😊 (I’m thinking about letting the collection open for a few months, so you have an idea of how late we’re talking about. Anyway, feel free to contact me privately about it, if you wish.)

TUMBLR

If you decide to promote your fanworks on tumblr only, please use the @festivetopgun2024 tag for easier spotting and reblogging.

Don't hesitate to reach out to me if you have any questions, or if i've missed to mention anything. 👀

The creative sky is entirely yours. 🤗

🐈Red🐈

[Main Post] - [Rarepair Secret Santa Exchange] - [Hangster & Icemav Prompt Week]

#festivetopgun #top gun prompt week & secret exchange #rarepair secret santa exchange #icemav prompt week #hangster prompt week

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prettyinpurplelights · 2 years ago

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IV.

“I cannot believe we actually made it.” Mia gripped your hand excitedly, her acrylic nails digging painfully into your skin.

“Girl, hold my hand any tighter and you’ll crush my bones. I won’t have a hand to collect my diploma with.” You giggled softly, prying her fingers off the back of your hand so you could lace your fingers together instead, her sweaty palm pressing against yours.

“Sorry.” She replied and you squeezed her hand in response. “I’m just so nervous, can you believe after all our hard work, we’re finally here?”

“I know.” You sighed, looking out into the audience of family members and friends that were filling into the giant cathedral to watch and support their loved ones on one of the most important days of their lives. You and Mia had finally come to the end of your degrees, and today would encapsulate the last four years of all nighters and countless assignments. You were graduating with a Master’s degree in fashion design and marketing, Mia in medical neuroscience with psychology. As well as saying goodbye to your university, you were both parting ways with the city too, leaving Marseille for Paris early the following morning. During your final year, your main project was to put on your own fashion show, making the pieces as well as being responsible for promoting and marketing the event. You didn’t sleep for several weeks, but it had all been worth it because the show was a huge success, landing you the highest grade in your cohort as well as a job waiting for you at Louis Vuitton, whom having interned for them the summer before, and after your show being such a hit, offered you a place at their headquarters in Paris. Mia had also secured a fellowship in one of the biggest hospitals in the country, working with their research department on new treatments and cures and finding the causes for all sorts of illnesses to do with the brain that she had tried to explain to you but had gone completely over your head. All you understood was that it was incredibly competitive and very hard to get into, so you were extremely proud of her, and very excited to start this new chapter of your young adult lives together. You had already leased an apartment to share, and moved almost all your stuff over during the summer break. It was now a matter of starting to unpack and make it more of a home when you both returned to Paris for the last time in less than 24 hours.

“Ouuu I see Elliot!” Mia squealed, waving her hand that wasn’t holding yours excitedly. “He’s with our parents, come on, let's go and say hi before grad starts.” She stood up, dragging you down the small steps where the choir would usually be during mass, instead, today, it was where the graduates were to be seated during the graduation ceremony. She pulled you through the aisle, mumbling a few excuse me’s as you weaved through the sea of people talking to each other, the atmosphere electrified with excitement and anticipation for the upcoming ceremony.

“Mommy, Daddy!” Mia's smile grew wider as she hugged her parents tightly. Her parents had moved to London when she was 14, her dad’s hotel business was expanding and he’d started to branch out into the rest of Europe. Mia was supposed to have gone with them but she didn’t want to move to England, and after a lot of bargaining, she’d managed to agree with her parents that she’d live with her grandmother instead, hence how you became friends, she had moved to Bondy late into the school year and the only spare seat in your form tutor was next to you and the rest was history. Unfortunately, Mia’s grandmother had passed away just before she was due to start university, and since she was officially an adult, her parents let her stay in France. She’d fly out to see them regularly but it had been a while since she last saw them, and they’re very busy people so you knew she was very pleased to have them here and you’re glad they could show up for her.

You hugged your own parents, your dad clicking at his camera repeatedly, making sure he had enough photos to commemorate this occasion.

“Dad, I don’t even think I’m in the frame in the one you just took.” You laughed at him, as he squinted behind the lens.

“Close enough! I’m so proud of you, my sweet baby girl.” He leant over to kiss your cheek before walking off, muttering about finding someone to take a group photograph.

“You know I don’t think he made such a fuss when I was graduating.” Elliot appeared by your side, his hand reaching up to grab your cap, to remove it so he could ruffle your hair. You ducked under his arm, knowing exactly what he was trying to do and pushed him away from you.

“Don’t you dare El, I was up at 6 this morning doing my hair, you’re not messing it up!” You scowled. “And besides, we both know I’m mum and dad’s favourite.” You added. A smug smile spread across your face as you shrugged your shoulders.

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes. “At least I’m the smart one, all you do is play with pretty fabric all day.” Elliot had graduated with a degree in sports science the year before, ending up at PSG, working as part of their medical staff. From what he had told you, he was really enjoying himself, and it probably helped that it was the same team Kylian played for, those two together, you were sure they were putting the other PSG players and staff members through hell.

“You know without people like Y/N, the rest of us would have nothing to wear, you’d be naked right now.” Mia slid up to Elliot, her arm wrapping around his waist as his went over her shoulder and squeezed it.

“I know you wouldn’t complain about that.” He replied.

“Mmmm, probably not.” She looked up at him, pursing her lips as he reached down to kiss her.

“Ew, the both of you. Please, I’m literally standing right here.”

They both laughed, pulling away just as your dad returned, some poor 20-something looking boy in his stead, holding the camera.

“Where’s Marco? Is he not coming?” Elliot asked, craning his head around to see if he could spot your boyfriend.

“Um…he’s in Tokyo. We broke up.”

Ex-boyfriend.

“Oh shit, sorry sis. What hap-“

“Group photo everyone, quick together!” Your dad interrupted his sentence, and you were thankful for his extraness in that moment, not wanting to answer any questions about your break-up. Your dad ushered you, your mum, Elliot, Mia and her parents into a huddle. It took a couple of minutes to organise everybody, your dad was kind of a perfectionist; it’s probably where Elliot got it from. You were stood between Mia and your mum, your brother behind the both of you. You turned to face him and from the look in your eyes and the way your lip turned downward slightly, he knew what you were going to ask, the issue of Marco long forgotten. Someone else was on your mind now.

“He’s going to be here Y/N. He might be a bit late, but he’ll be here.”

“He didn’t come down with you?”

“I had to pick Mum and Dad up so we got a later flight, he said he’d make it down himself. He wouldn’t miss this. I’m sure he’s on his way.”

You nodded, as you turned back to the boy holding the camera, mustering up the biggest smile you could, trying to ignore the way your heart felt so heavy in your chest and the sudden way your gown started to feel stuffy and uncomfortable. You and Kylian weren’t on bad terms, in fact, you were great. It had been almost three years since you’d decided to take a step back from him, and focus on yourself and who you were outside loving him. Not to say you stopped loving him, you don’t think that was something you’d ever be able to do, but you’d reached a point where he wasn’t all you thought about and it didn’t dictate everything you did and consume your entire being. You’d even managed to date someone this year, your first official boyfriend, Marco, for about 10 months, until he had to move to Japan for a student exchange transfer and you’d mutually decided to end things while you were on a good note because long distance for a whole year was not worth it; you’d remained friends though. You liked him a lot, but you didn’t love him, which was one of the reasons why he’d also agreed, howbeit reluctantly, to break up before his transfer, he’d told you he loved you 2 months prior and you were still yet to say it back. He had wanted to stay for you, but you encouraged him to go, not wanting to hold him back, especially when his feelings were so strong for you and yours were…well, not as strong. You didn’t want to disappoint him if you still couldn’t commit several months down the line and he’d thrown his future away for you.

“Graduates please make your way to your assigned seats, the ceremony will begin in 5 minutes.”

You and Mia hugged your families one more time before making your way back towards the stage. Your phone buzzed in your hand as you sat down, bringing it up to your face.

“Kylian?” Mia asked, her inquisitive nature causing her to lean over your shoulder and read the text on your phone.

“Ouuuu Marcoooo.” She sang teasingly as sat back and unlocked her own phone.

Hey, I know we’re not together anymore, but you’re still my friend so I wanted to wish you luck today! ♥️ proud of you always

Thank you Marco 🥺 I really appreciate it. How’s Japan treating you?

It’s amazing. The culture is just wow. And the sushi DEFINITELY tastes better here. You’d love it.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, ready to type out a reply when he sent another message.

I miss you.

You heard Mia wince audibly next to you, obviously reading the conversation between you and Marco.

“Get your big ass head out of my business.” You bumped your shoulder against hers as you sent Marco a quick reply about the ceremony starting so you had to go, not at all in the mood to unpack what that “I miss you” meant.

“Shame. I liked Marco. He was good for you.”

“Mmmm.”

“At least he congratulated you, better than that idiot your brother calls a best friend.”

“Ky’s our best friend too. And I thought you were on his side? Team KyY/N?”

“That was two years ago Y/N. He couldn’t even be bothered to send you a message about not coming.”

“El said he’d be here.”

“You think so?”

“I told him about today personally. He promised me he’d be here. For the both of us.”

“Oh we both know which one of us he’s coming for. And honestly I couldn’t give a fuck if he shows up for me, no offence. But for you? I’m skinning him alive the second we get to Paris.”

“He’ll be here.” You whispered to no one, almost as though you were trying to convince yourself. He had given you his word he wouldn’t miss today when you’d called him a few months ago about it. Initially you thought it might be weird, speaking to him on the phone, since you’d only been texting recently, but the thing about you and Kylian is no matter how much time you spent apart, you never fail to fall right back into your usual stead of things.

You hadn’t seen him since your birthday at the end of January, where there’d been a sort of awkward moment when you’d introduced him to Marco, who then had been your official boyfriend for a couple of weeks. He had just gotten back together with Renee, they had been together since your little confrontation at the airport two years back when you’d told him to focus on her. They had been on and off since they’d started dating, from what you’ve seen in the media, Kylian never really talked to you about her. From what you’d read over the course of the years, they’d broken up a couple of times, not that you cared or were keeping count.

******

He picked up after 3 rings, his face filling the screen when he answered. You gave him a little wave and a smile spread across his features, his dimples greeting you.

“Y/N. Hey.”

“Hi!” You replied, your voice chirpier than you’d expected it to be.

“You okay? Did something happen?”

He must’ve noticed the way you anxiously chewed at your bottom lip, your telltale sign something was wrong or you were nervous. In a similar way, he would squeeze his eyebrows together and his nose would twitch involuntarily when he was feeling the same. The harder he scrunched his eyebrows, the less nervous he was, the increased frequency of frown lines strewn across his forehead meant he was more likely to be angry instead. You knew each other’s tics and tells, probably better than you knew your own. By logic you and Kylian should’ve worked, you complemented and contrasted each other in the most perfect ways, but for some reason, the universe didn’t seem to agree and rather preferred to have the two of you in constant awkward situations and miscommunications leading to petty arguments. It was a quite cruel joke to be honest.

“Um, no, everything’s fine, I’m good. I was just wondering what you were doing August 1st.”

“Hmmm, the league starts again the week after that I’m sure, so just training.”

“Or nothing, if that’s what you need me to be doing.” He added and you couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered a little bit his words.

“Well Mia and I are finally graduating on the 1st. My parents and Elliot will be there. I was wondering if you wanted to come-“

“I’ll be there.”

“Really?” He laughed at your response.

“Gummy, you’ve wanted to be a fashion designer for as long as I’ve known you. I remember when you took it upon yourself to be mine and El’s stylists in middle school, I don’t even know why I let you do that, you used to put me in the most ridiculous outfits.”

“All you wanted to wear to school was your football kit.” You rolled your eyes. “I was trying to broaden your horizon a little bit.”

“Even then, you had talent, I can’t even imagine what you’re able to do now.”

“Well not to brag, but I am on track to finish top of my class.”

“Didn’t expect anything less from my girl.” He smiled genuinely and heat rose rapidly to your cheeks as you looked away from him for a moment.

“Of course I want to be there for you. But are you sure you’re 100% about it? Not to brag, but I am kind of a hotshot on the football scene right now.” He mocked, using your words against you playfully.

“Oh shut up!”

He laughed again, before continuing.

“I’m serious though Y/N, I know you like to stay out of the limelight and stuff, I don’t want to ruin that for you or steal attention away. This isn’t a private party like your birthday.”

“I want you there Ky, I want everyone I love there. I’ll be okay.” You nodded. Just then, you heard your boyfriend call out from your bedroom, his voice growing louder as he neared you in the kitchen.

“You ready babe?” He wrapped his arms around your waist, pressed a kiss against your cheek when he noticed you were on the phone.

“Oh hey man!” He waved at the screen. “How are you doing Kylian!”

“Hey…Marco. I’m good.” The smile on Kylian’s face dropped briefly as he greeted your boyfriend with a slight grimace. You quirked your eyebrow, wondering what the hell that was about but now it was his turn to break eye contact, looking everywhere but at you and Marco.

“How’s Renee?”

“Ummm she’s good. We’re…good.”

“Still can’t believe this guy is dating the biggest supermodel in the world, very fitting.”

You scowled, turning to face Marco, his comment grating on you a little bit.

“As opposed to you dating what?” You questioned, daring him to say some more bullshit.

“The hottest, smartest, kindest girl in the world of course.”

“Hmmm, better be.”

“How did you deal with her quick temper all your life Kylian?” Marco asked, and you elbowed his rib in response.

“You see what I mean?” He laughed, walking away from you. Kylian didn’t even bat an eye, he looked like he wanted to be anywhere else in the world at that moment.

“So anyways-“ You started but Kylian interrupted you, the words tumbling out of his mouth faster than you could register them.

“I gotta go. But I’ll be there August 1st. You have my word.”

“Oh, okay, yeah sure. Say hi to Renee for me.” You had barely managed to get out before he ended the FaceTime abruptly.

******

That was the last time you’d spoken, save the occasional text, but not once had he mentioned he wouldn’t be able to make it to your graduation. So by the time the ceremony was done and you had collected your diploma and walked down the aisle to cheers from your family, received more congratulations and took even more pictures and said your goodbyes to your family, to say you were simply pissed off was a great understandment. Some fool had even thought it would be funny to do Kylian’s infamous goal celebration in front of the cameras before collecting his diploma which amused everyone in the cathedral but vexed you even more. Kylian had always been there for you, he’s always tried his best to be present when you needed him, this was one of very few times he hadn’t shown up for you. But it hurt still, this was probably the most important thing you’d needed him for, and he’d not even bothered to shoot you a text he would be a no show.

“I know for sure he got on that plane Y/N.” Elliot had tried to reassure you earlier when you’d walked him and your parents to the Uber they had booked to take them back to the airport.

“Well that means fuck all to me. He’s not here.”

“Gosh he’s such an idiot. I’m going to skin him alive when I see him.”

“Funny your girlfriend said the same thing.” You laughed, but not really feeling humoured in the slightest. “Don’t worry about it El, I don’t know why I expected any different from him.”

“I know he has the funniest way of showing it, but he cares about you Y/N. And he loves you.” You ignored his comment, giving him one last hug before he slid into the front seat of the cab.

“I love you El.”

“Love you too sis. Always. You and Mia have fun tonight alright? And I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

You nodded, saying goodbye to your parents once more before the car pulled away. Mia appeared at your side, leaning her head on your shoulder.

“Mia?”

“Mmhm?” She replied.

“Let’s get absolutely fucking wasted tonight.”

———

“Why the fuck did you listen to me when I said we should get wasted last night.” You groaned, flopping onto the couch, your suitcases abandoned by the door. You’d finally arrived at your apartment in Paris, a little before midday, exhausted and terribly hungover.

“You looked like you needed it.” Mia sat by your side, laying your head on her chest and rubbing your shoulders.

“You’re so lucky you recover quickly, I still feel like I’ve been hit by a monster truck.”

“I’m gonna go out and do some food shopping, I’ll bring you something. Get some rest.”

You’d practically gone straight from the bar to the train station. You, Mia and your group of university friends had gone out to celebrate graduating, and also spend one last night together before you all split and went your different ways. It had been a great night, but you’re definitely regretting it now, as you were sure the others were too. You hadn’t even had a chance to shower as you and Mia had to pack the last of your stuff and hand in your old keys to the landlord before 7am since the train to Paris Lyon was leaving Marseille St. Charles around 8.

You decided to take a long shower while Mia was gone, you usually felt much better after a good soak. You’re glad to have your little travel toiletries bag because you had absolutely no idea where anything was; the apartment was filled with countless unopened cardboard boxes. You had about two weeks before your new job started so you and Mia could hopefully unpack and decorate in that time.

Definitely starting tomorrow. There was absolutely no way you’d be putting together furniture and organising your wardrobe today, you planned to stay in bed as long as you could instead.

You had just stepped out of the shower when you heard the doorbell ring, probably Mia who had forgotten her keys. You wrapped your towel around you, securing it as you opened the door.

“Did you not take your key-“ You looked up, your sentence breaking down half way through when you realised it wasn’t Mia in front of you. You rolled your eyes, moving to close the door in his face but he was quick, his foot reaching out to block the door from locking.

“Y/N, hear me out, please.”

“I don’t give a fuck about what you have to say Kylian, take your foot out of the way before I crush it.”

“I have boba?”

You paused for a second, still refusing to look at him.

“What flavour.”

“Mango milk tea with passion fruit pearls. I brought croissants too, from the best bakery in Paris. Very expensive. Very tasty.”

You opened the door wider, letting him walk through, cursing him for knowing you so well. He set the items on the little bit of space he could find on the kitchen worktop that wasn’t covered in boxes before turning to look at you.

His eyes scanned your body, starting at your legs, stopping when his eyes met yours. You felt stuck to the spot, your blood turning to lead as your eyes remained fixed on his, his mouth slightly ajar, your heart pounding fast. You forgot you were angry at him for a minute, flashbacks of the last time he’d seen you like this flickering across your mind instead as you suddenly remembered you were wearing next to nothing. Your hands came up to cover your chest and legs, breaking the both of you out of your hypnotic state.

“Umm…I’ll be back. Gonna put something on.” You muttered.

“Yeah…umm…sure, I’ll wait here.”

You raced to your room as quickly as you could, ignoring the funny feeling in your stomach and the way your heart was racing like it was running out of time. You rummaged through the boxes, trying to find one that had some clothes in it. After a couple of minutes of sifting through books and shoes and everything else, you managed to find a bag at the bottom of one of the boxes with your gym clothing.

You pulled the shorts and a t-shirt over your head, rolling your eyes when you realised which top you were wearing. You walked back into the room with your arms crossed, trying your best to look angry as you faced Kylian, a smile spreading across his face when he noticed your top.

“Wipe that smug grin off your face, I could only find my gym stuff and it was the only top in there.”

“You work out with my name on your back?” He held out the boba to you, his eyebrow raised in amusement.

“Shut up. These jerseys are surprisingly very breathable.” You snatched the plastic cup out of his grasp, piercing the film lid with the straw and taking a sip.

“Well yeah, we do run around in them for 90 minutes so we’d hope they’re breathable. Remind me to get you a new one from this season though, that one’s a bit outdated.”

“This one’s just fine. Thank you for the boba.” You raised the cup at him before stretching your hand out, pointing to the open door that led to the hallway. “You can go now.”

“Y/N-“

“Kylian I don’t want to hear it. You think what, by bringing my favourite drink and cracking jokes everything’s okay?”

“No, of course not. I tried to call you last night.“

“And I didn’t answer for a fucking reason. Did it cross your mind maybe I didn’t want to talk to you after you stood me and Mia up?”

“Listen-“

“There’s not an excuse you can give me that’s valid Kylian. You promised me you’d be there. I kept looking out for you, the whole ceremony, even after it was over, we lingered around the venue for so long my parents and Elliot almost missed their flight back home. Of course I didn’t tell them why I wanted to wait around, they still think you’re the best thing that’s happened to them besides their own kids.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I got on the plane to come to you, I swear-“

“So you were in Marseille yesterday?”

“Yes, I was on my way to-“

“Funny you were in Marseille yesterday.”

“Y/N-“

“Because I was in Marseille yesterday, and this morning too actually, up until about hmmm, 4 hours ago? But I didn’t see you. At all.”

“Y/N-“

“You’re so-“

“Y/N STOP TALKING!” He suddenly yelled, your sentence cut off midway by his outburst. You don’t think you’ve ever seen this many frown lines across his forehead before, he must be really pissed. That makes two of you.

“Don’t raise your voice at me.”

“Well I don’t have a choice if that’s the only way to get you to fucking listen.”

“I don’t have to listen to anything you have to say.”

“You know what? You always do this. You always assume you know what I’m going to say, or how I feel so you just cut me off before I get a chance to even explain myself.”

“Because I know you’re going to come out with some bullshit Kylian! Always you and your empty fucking promises, I’m so over it. But sure, prove me wrong. Go on, explain yourself then.”

You raised your arms as if to say he has the floor to speak. He clenched his jaw, his lips in a tight line as the both of you stared at each other, a million and one emotions swirling around you. Anger, pain, disappointment, sadness. If looks could kill, the both of you would be simultaneously 6 feet under.

“I swear I didn’t mean to miss your graduation Y/N, I really wanted to be there. I literally got to the airport and I, I bumped into Renee. I swear it was unplanned, I had no idea she was going to be there, and we just started talking and she had a lot she wanted to say to me, and honestly I didn’t realise how long we were together for, I swear it wasn’t my intention to miss your ceremony.”

“So what was so important that you had to talk about there in that moment, for such a long time-“

“She wanted to get back together.”

“You broke up?” This was news to you, as far as you were concerned, Kylian was still dating her, you hadn’t seen anything in the tabloids about them breaking up.

“Yeah. A couple of months ago.”

“So you’re back together now? For what, the 5th time?”

“It’s complicated Y/N. I love her.”

A sharp but fleeting pain travelled across your chest and it took everything in you not to physically keel over. It was laughable, how easy it was for one person to completely lose feelings they claim to have had and fall in love with someone else, while the other couldn’t even utter the words to another, whether they meant it or not. Because the pent up feelings were still there, choking you, gripping your heart tight and rendering you useless, incapable of loving anyone else, but him. You felt like dying, maybe it would hurt less than living in this sick and twisted reality, this constant loop of being reminded he’s never going to love you the way you love him.

“Yeah, Kylian, I can tell. Because she clearly means more to you than I do. I told you about this weeks in advance, you gave me your word yet when something better comes along you’re quick to just brush me under the rug like you always do.”

“I’m sorry, it wasn’t my intention. I didn’t even know how to talk to you when I realised I’d missed the ceremony, I didn’t think you’d want me there-“

“Of course I’d want you there, you fucking idiot, you’re my best friend. Why else would I ask you personally to come?

“I knew you’d at least be with your family, Mia, Marco.” He said Marco’s name with such disdain you almost laughed at the audacity he had to seem irked by the mere mention of your ex-boyfriend when he had a girlfriend of his own.

“Marco is in Japan. We broke up. For good.”

“Oh. I didn’t know.”

“Why would you? You don’t talk to me about Renee, I don’t talk to you about Marco. Some kind of unspoken rule right?”

There was a silence between you before he spoke.

“I’m sorry. I know you loved him.” For someone who’d been in your life for almost two decades, perhaps Kylian really didn’t know you as well as you thought he did. Or maybe you were so good at pretending you’d managed to convince everyone but yourself you’d been in love with Marco.

“Anyways Ky, I think you’ve done all your explaining. You can leave.”

He rounded the kitchen island, stepping closer to you so he could take your hand that wasn’t holding the drink, gripping it softly in his.

“Y/N, I really am sorry. Please, l don’t want us to start your move to Paris on a bad note. You have no idea how happy I am that you're finally here to stay. Let me take you out tomorrow. Just me and you, a celebratory dinner. On me. Heck I’ll even take you shopping, any store you like, I’ll carry all the bags and not complain one bit.”

A soft giggle left your lips and you cursed yourself for letting him get away with his shit so easily.

“Please, I’m sorry gummy. It won’t happen again. Let me make it up to you.”

“You better bring your shiniest Amex card tomorrow when you pick me up.”

“It’s a date.” He smiled, and you tried not to think too deeply into what he’d just said.

Just then, you heard the front door close, Mia appearing in the doorway with several shopping bags, singing to herself. She noticed you and Kylian stood in the middle of the kitchen, your hand in his and she rolled her eyes, knowing you had definitely let him off easy. Luckily for you, she wasn’t about to do that. She smiled sweetly, before reaching into one of the bags and pulling out an orange. It happened so quickly, you didn’t not anticipate the orange leaving Mia’s hand with such force, heading straight for Kylian’s head. He managed to duck at the last second, the fruit finding the wall behind him instead of his skull.

“Mia what the hell?!” He shouted.

“Fucking dickhead. You’re lucky that wasn’t a knife.”

/———-/

Part 4 finally 😭😭 just two more parts to go! Sorry it took so long please forgive me 🤞🏿 and it may seem like it’s going round in circles but they gotta do this stupid arguing and not talking about their feelings 5 times before they finally get their shit together so we’re getting close to the happy ending, very soon though it’s deffo going to get very messy before it gets better 😵‍💫 I hope y’all like it <3 (also it’s half 3 in the morning and I haven’t edited this entirely so I’m super sorry for any mistakes 🙏🏿)

Also I know the French don’t do graduations (shame if you ask me, I loved my grad) but I had to have one to fit the story 🤭

And I’m sorry for making y’all wait, im back at work and it’s hard to find the time to write (I had a bit of writers block) and also I find it hard to write super short pieces so it does take me a while to write so I’m super grateful to y’all for being so kind and patient 🥺🫶🏿

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meowjaa · 1 year ago

Text

✧ competition ✧

warnings: swearing, eventual smut, slow burn, enemies to lovers, 4 part series (if thats what you can call it)

context: levi ackerman x reader, after a rough mission you went to levi the only person you feel some comfort in.

a/n: hello my loves I was on character ai when I did this little rivalry office thing and I couldn't get it out of my head so the events based in this are most likely scenarios that happened in my chat, other than that enjoy my loves <33

Rivalry was no longer the lens she saw Levi through, but rather a connection much deeper. And for the first time, Y/N allowed herself to consider that she might not mind letting him win her heart, just as he had unknowingly won the promotion. The thought left her both exhilarated and terrified...

Over the next few weeks, Y/N found her feelings for Levi growing stronger day by day. Their friendly rivalry had turned into an exciting rapport that left her pulse quickening whenever he was near. Lingering looks and playful banter now colored their interactions, a thrilling dance she wanted more of.

She lived for the moments they could steal away together - a coffee break debating new business proposals, an impromptu lunch when the office cleared out. In those times, the rest of the world faded away and it was just the two of them.

Y/N sensed Levi's attraction mirroring her own in the way his steely eyes softened when they met hers, how he now sought out excuses to visit her desk or have her consult on projects. Their hands would brush sending paperwork back and forth, electricity sparking from the subtle contact.

The more time they spent together, the more Y/N found herself opening up. She told Levi her most vulnerable dreams of starting her own company, worries she wasn't advancing fast enough, memories from childhood that still stung. And he listened patiently, sharing pieces of himself in return.

They learned each other's rhythms - how Levi took his coffee black first thing in the morning, but preferred tea in the evenings; the cute way Y/N bit her lip when focused on a task. It felt frighteningly natural, as if they had always been two halves of a whole.

The turning point came late one night as they finalized a proposal due the next day. Y/N could barely keep her eyes open, but Levi convinced her to power through the last few items. They sat closely side by side, thighs touching, as he walked through financial projections.

Y/N could barely focus on his words, hyperaware of his proximity. The scent of his cologne, the defined muscles under his shirt, his lips moving tantalizingly close to her ear. She shivered as his breath tickled her neck.

"Are you cold?" Levi asked, misreading her reaction. Before she could answer, he slipped off his suit jacket and draped it around her shoulders, his fingers grazing her shoulders. Heart pounding wildly, Y/N knew then she was utterly, hopelessly falling for this man.

From the electricity in his gaze, she realized Levi felt it too. They both froze, the space between them suddenly crackling with anticipation.

"We shouldn't…" Levi whispered half-heartedly. But even as he said it, his hand came up to caress Y/N's face with unexpected tenderness. Unable to resist any longer, she closed the distance between them, kissing him like she had wanted to for so long. Levi responded immediately, pulling her against him.

In that perfect moment, nothing else mattered except the taste of his lips, the heat of his body, the rightness of being in his arms. Rivalry was the last thing on either of their minds now - this connection ran far deeper.

When they finally broke apart, hearts racing and lips swollen, all the pining and tension now lay bare.

"Well, that was a long time coming," Levi murmured, resting his forehead against hers. A smile tugged at Y/N's mouth. No more hiding their feelings. This was only the beginning for them.

Over the following weeks, Levi and Y/N explored their newfound relationship discreetly during and after work hours. Stolen kisses in shadowy corners of the office, fingers intertwined under tables during meetings, passionate encounters in each other's apartments late into the night.

They were intoxicated by the thrill of keeping things professional on the surface, while emotions ran hot just below. Sneaking around almost made their connection feel more exciting and taboo.

During the day, Levi kept up his role as the serious senior executive, barking orders and scrutinizing reports. But his facade would slip whenever he passed Y/N's desk, gray eyes softening as they exchanged a knowing look.

And Y/N would catch herself drifting into daydreams mid-meeting, reliving the feeling of Levi's strong arms around her or his breath hot on her neck or the feeling of his calloused fingers pumping in and out of your sopping pussy his words still lingering in y/ns head "be a good girl and squirt for me" once Levi found that y/n's legs were shaking he used his tongue to get all of your juices into his mouth, The work day couldn't end soon enough, both longing for the moment they could let their guard down.

At night, the pretense would fade away and they gave in to desire. Hands roaming feverishly across skin as clothing was shed piece by piece. The world narrowing down to tangled limbs and racing heartbeats.

They learned every dip and curve of each other's bodies, finding the sensitive spots that made the other gasp or moan in pleasure. Slowly driving each other to the brink in a passionate game of give and take, His dick thrusting into you hitting your soft spot each time causing you to arch your back and his hand to glide down your spine his groans filling the apartment itself as the cum soaked the sheets.

Release would come in a dizzying crest of euphoria, leaving them clinging together afterward, passion temporarily spent. But soon the spark would ignite again, insatiable now that they had unlocked this part of themselves and each other.

When it was time to part, even for just the night, neither could bear the separation. “Just a few more minutes” turning into an hour of savoring embraces and whispered endearments he would grab y/n's waist and pull them down onto him once more filling them up with his hardened cock once again and pump himself inside. The dawn inevitably breaking their reverie, but both already longing for the next time their souls could intertwine.

At the office, the magnetism was palpable, drawing them together though they resisted its pull. Lingering looks conveying what their professionalism forced them to leave unsaid for the moment. The smallest touch feeling electric, a promise of the passion yet to come.

This thrill of secrecy and stolen moments consumed them. But deeper feelings were blossoming as well, tended by the care and vulnerability shared in their private world. What had begun as desire was evolving into something much more lasting. A future neither had imagined, but now couldn't bear to part from.

As the weeks turned into months, Levi and Y/N settled into a comfortable rhythm both in their work and romantic lives. The newness and excitement of sneaking around had faded into a steady, nurturing relationship.

Outside of work, they spent most evenings together, cooking dinner and talking late into the night. Levi opened up more and more, telling Y/N about his difficult childhood and previous heartbreaks. She shared her family struggles and past relationship failures as well. All the walls came down when they were alone.

At the office, they maintained a cordial professionalism, though those privy to observing them could detect the subtle affection in their interactions. A tenderness in Levi's typically stern expression when addressing Y/N, her hand drifting to rest on his arm during side conversations.

Erwin called them into a meeting one day, eyeing them shrewdly. "I'll cut to the chase - I know about you two." Levi and Y/N exchanged startled glances. There seemed no point trying to deny it.

"As long as you keep things professional at work, I won't interfere," Erwin continued. "But know that relationships between employees are tricky. I trust you both not to let things get messy."

They assured him things would remain discreet and thanked him for his understanding. As they left the office, Y/N felt herself buzzing with an unexpected giddiness. The secret was out, yet the world hadn't ended.

Levi noticed her barely contained smile. "What's got you so happy all of a sudden?" he asked with amusement.

Y/N slipped her hand in his, no longer caring who saw. "Just realizing I don't want to hide this - us - anymore. I'm ready for everything to be out in the open."

Levi lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it softly. "I'm ready too. No more sneaking around." His voice was firm with resolve.

So they embarked on their first official outing as a couple, heading to a nice restaurant downtown. The new dynamic felt both foreign and exciting. Y/N thrilled at being able to gaze lovingly at Levi across the table, hold his hand over wine and candlelight, kiss him goodbye without care of who was watching.

From then on, they arrived at work together each morning, parted with a quick kiss before starting their days. They became known around the office as an item, drawing whispers and smiles. But Y/N didn't mind. She wanted everyone to know she and Levi had found something real.

On their one year anniversary, Levi surprised Y/N by taking her away for a romantic weekend getaway. As she toured the charming bed and breakfast suite he had booked, she was touched by how intimately he knew her tastes.

That night, he led her out to the private balcony for dinner under the stars. "I can't believe it's only been a year," he mused, fiddling endearingly with his utensils. "Feels like we've been together a lifetime."

Y/N smiled, chest swelling with emotion. "In the best possible way." She leaned over to kiss him tenderly.

In that moment, with Levi's eyes shining in the soft light, Y/N knew what the next chapter held. A future forever intertwined, far beyond the boundaries of their office rivalry. This was a love story for the ages.. rivals to lovers they say? that's nonsense.

#attack on titan #levi ackerman #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman x y/n #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x female reader #levi x reader #aot fanfiction #levi smut #aot x reader

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armoricaroyalty · 1 year ago

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Theo would be working most of the time she was in Uspana: her schedule was packed solid with meetings, tours, and late-night networking events. She was tagging along on the trip as part of Rosalind's entourage, there to support her agenda and make connections with Uspanian organizations working toward the same goals. She tried to convince herself that it'd be good to stay busy, but she suspected that what she really needed was time to think.

Previous | Chapter Start | Beginning | Next

Transcript under the cut!

Theo's Townhouse // Pearl District, Breizh, Armorica

THEO | Rob? Are you home? ROB | [offscreen] Yeah. In the kitchen! THEO What are you cooking? Something smells gooooooood∼ ROB | Heh. Thanks, babe. ROB | [offscreen] It's a new special we're trying this week. It's a western-style gumbo with andouille and crabmeat, but the roux has a coconut milk base. THEO | Oooooo— THEO | But wait, I thought L'Ostrica didn't do fusion cuisine. ROB | They don't, but I'm hoping I can kind of open the door with this special. If it sells and I can impress the sous chef, I might finally get off the line... THEO | That's great, babe, but...is that still what you want? ROB | ...what d'you mean? THEO | If you don't get promoted, do you want to keep doing this? ROB | ...what else would I even do? THEO | I dunno! There's tons of jobs in hospitality besides cooking— ROB | But I want to cook. It's all I've ever wanted. THEO | I know you love it, but you have to be serious. I grew up in my auntie's restaurant. It's not sustainable. The pay is shit and the hours are terrible. I don't want to start a family with someone who's never around— ROB | ...is that what you want? To settle down, start a family? THEO | ...is that not what you want? ROB | ...I dunno. Honestly...I haven't thought about it. It's just not on my radar. THEO | Ohmygod. Rob, you cannot be serious— ROB | I haven't thought about it because I've been focused on my career! Just because you gave up doesn't mean I have to, too. THEO | Okay, you need to leave. ROB | Theo— THEO | I will not be spoken to like that in my own home. Leave, and call me once you've figured out what you actually want from this relationship. ROB | I'm sorry. THEO | Goodnight, Rob. ROB | I am, though... THEO | ... ROB | ... THEO | [sighs]

#armorica story #chapter 3 #behind the scenes #character: theodosia adams #character: rob lewis

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darkx-the-dragon-kn1ght · 2 months ago

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Pokémon Reborn Screenshot Let's Play: Chapter 42

Soooo…it's been a little bit, huh? Wasn't expecting the chapter to get delayed by this much, but uuuuh…hehe, well, there's been…a lot. But shockingly enough, the elephant in the room is not the primary reason this chapter took so long, in fact it's not even the secondary or even tertiary reason.

The main thing is- if you look at anything else on my blog besides this Let's Play, you might've noticed I posted a quirky little something about Fire Emblem this past Sunday. You see, something of a traditional in my friend group is making main post things whenever one of us starts running a new TTRPG adventure, and this past Sunday, it was finally my time to join in. Yes, after over 4 years of playing TTRPGs, I've begun DM’ing a game of my own, and in a Fire Emblem system! It runs every other Sunday, hence why I've had time to write for this chapter this week, but last week I had to prioritize the game (barring the few days of writer's block I had to deal with).

Speaking of Fire Emblem- my birthday was at the end of October, so that was something else. I got Epic Mickey Rebrushed as a late birthday present, and I should be getting Fire Emblem Engage soon too, so- other games have had my attention indeed. And of course, the recent events in my home country have been…something too.

But if anything, that last thing has made me more motivated to get this part out. I'm not gonna say this playthrough is a significant light in the darkness, it's more like a lightbulb in a Home Depot display, but if my work here and my jokes can bring some level of comfort and levity to someone reading it, then it's worth it. Gaming is my way of coping, it is my rock, and I'm gonna share it with everyone else for as long as I can!

So with that…maybe not a rousing speech, but a speech, out of the way…it's time to get back down to business. And by that, I mean recap the last chapter, because it'll probably definitely be needed after how long it's been.

With Laura at her side, Xera makes her way back into Tanzan Mountain. Laura accidentally discovers a secret switch that opens the way into Team Meteor’s secret base within the mountain, and she puts the front guards to sleep so she and Xera can sneak in.

Xera and Laura split up, fighting their way through the tricky base before coming across a room of prison cells. Based on the damage they see, Saphira had already broken herself out, so the two split up again to try and find her.

Xera finds Saphira tampering with some of the base’s security measures, Saphira unhappy with Xera and Laura risking themselves to come rescue her. Xera holds off some Meteor agents long enough for Saphira to open some of the gates leading deeper into the base.

While trying to open the gates leading to the base’s main lab, Xera encounters Meteor Grunt Simon again. Simon explains he is in no condition to battle her, wracked with grief over the death of Tara, his fellow Grunt and partner, at the hands of Saphira during her strike on the lake. He allows Xera to do what she needs to do while swearing to take revenge on Saphira someday.

Xera is finally able to access the main lab, and heads in just in time to see Saphira and Laura confronting Dr. Connal and ZEL, alongside Team Meteor’s latest PULSE- an Abra, codenamed Seamless Transportation.

Saphira’s words towards Connal cause the doctor to become irate, only for him to calm himself down after apparently hearing words from a “Lizzy”. Shortly after, Sirius rushes into the room, unable to focus on the three intruders due to more pressing matters. Agent Lin- who has been promoted enough to be at least on equal authority with Sirius and ZEL- is on her way to check the progress on PULSE Abra.

However, ZEL explains that the Abra is highly disobedient; it was intended to allow Team Meteor to teleport a large number of their forces into a certain location, but instead it has just been teleporting other things around randomly. In short, the unfocused power of the PULSE is the cause of the teleportation problems in Chrysolia Forest and Spinel Town.

As Saphira reminds the trio of her, Laura, and Xera’s existences, Sirius suggests ZEL use the three as a “test” for Abra. ZEL obliges, and all three are teleported away before any of them can react. ZEL cannot tell where Abra sent them, Sirius urges them to continue working on Abra before Lin arrives.

Xera wakes up in a dark cavern of some sort with barrels of strange green liquid scattered about; Laura and Saphira are nowhere to be found.

And now, the thrilling conclusion to the Tanzan Mountain arc! Most likely! Unless Team Meteor decides to pull something even crazier than unstable teleportation! Which…they've done before, they could certainly do so again…let's just get into it!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

#pokemon reborn #pokemon reborn spoilers #pokemon fan game #pokemon reborn screenshot let's play

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gacmediadaily · 2 years ago

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Riley Weston, the writer-actress who generated an extraordinary amount of attention in the late ’90s for failing to disclose her true age while working for Felicity, has quietly found another way to enjoy success in TV: penning feel-good movies.

Her latest creation is Apples, Orchards & Romance, a new confection for Great American Family that stars Trevor Donovan (Jingle Bell Princess, “90210”) and Jessica Lowndes (I’m Glad It’s Christmas, Harmony from the Heart, “90210”).

The movie, which will air as part of the net’s annual Great American Autumn programming event that returns this September, follows teacher Drew Granger (Donovan) who accepts a temporary substitute job in his old hometown of Chestnut Hollow, Texas, where he meets Aiden, the proverbial new kid at school, desperate for a caring friend. While he would rather have taken a job anywhere else, Drew reconsiders Chestnut Hollow when he meets Lainie Abbott (Lowndes), the new manager of his parents’ massive apple orchard and cider mill business, and more importantly, Aiden’s mom. Production commences this week.

Weston wrote the screenplay (before the WGA strike) for Apples — one of many she’s penned since leaving Felicity in 1998. Her other titles include a collection of breezy movies for Hallmark such as Good Morning Christmas!, Always and Forever, and The Nanny Express.

“I love writing these rom-coms so much for a few reasons,” says Weston to Deadline. “First, I’m a diehard romantic who is still waiting for her own fairytale! Second, I love bringing joy to people, whether it’s through movies or music. My hope is that a movie like this can take people out of their work week for two hours and give them a little getaway from reality. They always make me feel hopeful and I try to get that feeling spread to the viewers. It’s also so awesome when I get to write a movie for friends. Trevor and I have wanted to work on something for a while now and this was the perfect project.”

Weston burst onto the scene in the late ’90s as a “wunderkind” 19-year-old staff writer for Felicity — until it was discovered that she lied about her real age to find acting jobs (the petite actor/scribe was actually 32). It was a rather trite offense, in retrospect, given the subsequent #MeToo era, but many executives and agents who promoted her so-called youth were left with egg on their faces.

“It’s been an accepted practice for actresses to lie about their age, especially in instances where they are always asked to play younger,” Weston said at the time. “I adopted an age appropriate for my physical appearance, never imagining I would one day become a writer. I could not be one age in the acting world and another in the writing world, so I chose to maintain the ruse. In a business fraught with age bias, I did what I felt I had to do to succeed.”

Weston left Felicity in the middle of the first season because her contract had expired, explained co-creator Matt Reeves during a 2021 interview with Entertainment Weekly (which was one of the first publications to play up Riley’s “wunderkind” status). Before she left, Reeves gave Weston a role as a teenager in one episode.

“People thought that we let her go because of it. None of that was true at all,” Reeves recalled to EW. “The story was blown so crazy out of proportion from the perspective of our relationship with Riley. We did discover that she was not telling us the truth, but it was after she had already finished her term. When you sign somebody on as a staff writer in those days, you had a number of scripts that you signed them to do. We just put her on the show because we thought, ‘well, let’s just let her do what we know she really wants to do as well, which is to be an actor.’ It got turned into a scandal that I’m not sure ever was. We liked her writing. That’s all.”

Weston has since settled in Tennessee where she writes and performs country songs — often at the famed Bluebird Café in Nashville. She’s garnered a dedicated following for her music and even wrote a song for Apples, Orchards & Romance.

“I’ve got a couple of great shows in July at The Bluebird Café and a few other venues,” she tells Deadline. “I’m so excited to also be working on my first Christmas album. There are a few new Christmas songs of mine that I am adapting into movies as well. Fingers crossed that I will be combining my acting, writing and music all together in a movie soon!”

Apples, Orchards & Romance is executive produced by Brad Krevoy, Amy Krell, Jimmy Townsend, Lorenzo Nardini, Cara J. Russell, Trevor Donovan, Kelly Martin, Susie Belzberg Krevoy, Don McCutcheon, and Jessica Lowndes. David Anselmo produces. Supervising producers are James Mou and W. Michael Beard. Associate Producer is Victor St. Pierre. Don McCutcheon directs.

#great american family #apples orchards and romance #jessica lowndes #trevor donovan

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hoeneymilktea · 5 days ago

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deciphered ✧ tooru oikawa chapter 12 | finding the truth

Your cousin, Hajime Iwaizumi—whom you haven't seen in a long time, invited you to support him at the largest street racing event in Tokyo. He told you he was a part of the Seijoh Brawlers, one of the notorious top five gangs affiliated with the underground street racing scene. Once he introduced you to his leader, Tooru Oikawa, a.k.a. Cypher—your interest piqued, curiously wanting to understand the true meaning behind his alleged nickname.

✧ pairing — tooru oikawa / afab reader ✧ genre — erotica/smut, action romance, crime romance, dark romance (absolutely no dv/sa), psychological thriller, crime/detective mystery ✧ rating — very explicit, 18+ mdni ✧ chapter word count — 9.5k ✧ content warnings — violence, street racing, references to drugs, explicit sexual content, heavy angst. see below break for chapter specific warnings ↴

author's note — This fanfic is inspired by the beautiful and amazing fanart of Street Racer AU Tooru Oikawa. Artist is @aikk00. disclaimer — I do not condone the romanticization of the yakuza or the reality of gang life as I intended not to portray that kind of interpretation, nor promote the activity of illegal street racing. Do not seek out these types of experiences as this work is just a piece of fiction. Please remember to read at your own risk.

my letters to you ⇠ finding the truth ⇢ only time can tell

✧ chapter specific content warnings: alcohol drinking, drug use

The end of September rolled around, the Summer heat now cooling. There hadn’t been an incident involving Oikawa for weeks since his return to the cell dormitories. He remained quiet in his cell, never speaking a word to anyone, including Kuroo. Only the melodies of his voice could be heard late at night in the corridors, a lullaby Oikawa had sung to help himself fall asleep.

Sooner or later, both Kuroo and Oikawa were granted visitation rights from the warden for their persistent well-mannered behavior. Kuroo was so excited about the privileges he was granted that he immediately wrote a letter to Leia, asking her to come visit him. He also mentioned bringing you as well, since Oikawa was granted the same privileges.

Yet, he didn’t mention how he was sent to the isolation chamber for two months. Kuroo thought that was one thing that should have been spared, and it wasn’t his business to disclose that information either. He couldn’t even imagine how petrifying that would have been to find out about, as he himself was concerned the moment it happened.

Kuroo tried his best to keep his head down low, stay quiet and obey the commands of the guards. He was only doing so for the sake of seeing Leia again and the baby growing in her stomach. He was absolutely heartbroken to know he couldn’t have been there by her side, helping her out with the pregnancy. He had to tell himself repeatedly that keeping his good behavior was all for her, the mother of his child.

In all honesty, he wished he could have possessed half of the bravery Oikawa had to stand up to the abuses of the system. He hated authoritative figures just as much, yet he knew he couldn’t defy them in a place where they had an extensive power over his sovereignty.

When Oikawa returned to his cell, Kuroo tried his best to talk to him whenever he could. He would constantly ask if he was okay, or if he needed anything from him. Yet, his questions were always left ignored as Oikawa never spoke a word. Kuroo knew that the isolation chamber had changed his behavior forever, whether it be for the good or the bad.

Leia received his letter within the matter of days, excited for the fact she was able to see him once again. She was also sent two forms of visitation paperwork, one for her and one for you to sign. Within an instant, she called you on the phone, only to hear your low and groggy voice through the speaker.

“Hello?” You answered, lazily holding your cell phone up to your ear with your left hand as you scratched your head with the other. Shifting the sheets off your legs, you looked out your bedroom window only to see the morning sun peeking through the blinds.

“Get your ass ready, we’re going to the Tokyo Detention House.” Leia’s words were prominent and to the point, a slight excitement underneath her tone. You lifted your body up from your bed, removing the phone in your hands to check the time. It was 6:30AM, wondering to yourself why she was up so early.

“Huh?” You couldn’t comprehend her words so easily as your brain was still adjusting to the dim morning light. Leia chuckled on the phone as a few papers shuffled around, her voice now calm and collected.

“We’re finally gonna see them again.”

Within the same day, she came to pick you up from your apartment. Unlike Oikawa, she rolled up underneath the stairs of the two-story building quietly, not even the tires underneath her car squealing as she slowed down her vehicle. Per usual, Mr. Nekomata was outside of his apartment, sitting on his little plastic chair as he waved goodbye to you.

Throughout the car ride, you stared out the window as Leia drove through the city of Katsushika, the Tokyo Detention House just right around the corner in the distance. You leaned your head on the cold window, the rumble of her Honda S2000 clattered against your temple. Looking over to Leia on the right side, you saw the visitation papers on the middle console and the little baby bump on her stomach, almost touching the bottom of the steering wheel.

Suddenly, Oikawa’s letters ran through your mind again—the words of his voice whispering softly against the helix of your ear. An overwhelming amount of guilt washed through your body, the shatters of the emotions spilling out through your eyes. You thought about Iwaizumi and Oikawa at the same time, the realization of the reality you were in caused you to break down entirely.

Without taking her eyes off the road, Leia furrowed her eyebrows and scolded you through her teeth. “Stop crying. We’re almost there.”

You sobbed through your hands, begging for her to hold on as you just had to let out the last bit of sorrow from your eyes. In truth, you weren’t sure why you were crying at the moment. You had cried for months, all your tears running dry, your body excessively dehydrated—in fact, you didn’t cry for weeks after reading Oikawa’s letters. Somehow, all the pent up emotions throughout the weeks spilled out all at once.

The Tokyo Detention House was a large building, standing several stories high. As Leia pulled into the visitor’s parking lot, you couldn’t imagine how you would have spent your time there, thinking to yourself that prison seemed like an absolute nightmare to go through. You clutched the visitation paperwork in your hands as Leia parked the car and turned off the engine.

The minute you both walked in, there was a small lobby in the front that contained a young lady working at the desk. Leia went up to her, handing the visitation papers over the counter. You stood there right next to her, watching the woman type in numbers into the computer.

“Here to see Inmate 1098—Tetsurou Kuroo, and Inmate 1099—Tooru Oikawa?” The woman looked up at the both of you with one eyebrow raised.

“Yes,” you both monotonously replied, placing your hands up on the counter. She continued to type on the keyboard, looking straight at the computer monitor.

“Relation to inmates?”

“Mother of his child,” Leia backed up for a minute, placing her right hand on her stomach bump.

“Fiancée,” you lifted up your left hand, showing off an engagement ring with a gold band and a diamond encrusted sakura flower in the middle.

One of the rules mentioned in the forms was that visitors had to be of family or marriage relation in order to visit inmates, unless certain privileges were granted otherwise. To make it seem believable, Leia had lent you her mother’s wedding ring to wear. It had fit perfectly around the ring finger of your left hand, almost like it was meant to be yours in the first place.

The woman continued to type as she asked for two forms of ID from the both of you, making you sign legal documents stating officers are allowed to listen in on your private conversations, and that the visits could not be longer than thirty minutes maximum. There were a lot of strict rules to follow in the Japanese penal system, even for visitors.

The minute the both of you went through the metal detectors, the air around the prison felt dense, making it hard to breathe through your nose. The clinks of metal echoed throughout the facility, the footsteps of several guards passing through followed behind you both. A young guard assisted you to the visitation room, which consisted of several tables with partitions in between them.

You sat according to which table the guard had assigned you, the paperwork containing Oikawa’s information folded in half in your right hand. Leia was to your left, only a few feet away as you both glanced at each other with a nervous expression.

It has been a long time since you’ve seen Oikawa. Throughout the months, you almost had forgotten what his face looked like, if it weren’t for the numerous photos of him on your phone. You gulped down a dry swallow, your fingers trembling on the smooth oak table.

The door on the other side creaked open, two footsteps slowly echoed throughout the small room. Kuroo passed by your partition, a smile on his face as he quickly waved. You didn’t even get the chance to wave back to him as he approached Leia’s partition, a restrained scream erupting from her mouth.

“Baby!” She placed her elbows down on the table excitedly, resting her head on her hands as a large smile grew on her face from one ear to the other. “Oh my god, you’re bald!”

“I missed you, princess.” Kuroo chuckled as you heard him sit down on the chair, the jingles of his handcuffs hitting against the edge of the table.

With your head turned to the side and your eyes fixed on Leia, you heard another pair of footsteps approaching the table and the jingle of handcuffs. The figure sat down in the seat, scooting the legs of the chair across the floor. Suddenly, you whipped your head back to the view in front of you.

“Hello, my angel. I’ve missed you.”

Your heart stopped beating right then and there.

After all these months without his presence, there he was, Tooru Oikawa, your beloved boyfriend, sitting in front of you a few feet across the table. He wore a jumpsuit with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the same dragon tattoo plastered on the side of his neck and down his right arm.

Unlike Kuroo, his hair was not shaved down—in fact, it was a lot shorter than what you remembered it to be, the ends of his locks just barely resting above his ears. Darkened bags rested under his eyes, his cheeks sunken into his skull. He looked skinnier than what you remembered him to be, his muscles now reduced into a somewhat thin-like figure.

Oikawa smiled at you, the corners of his eyes watering up a bit. You smiled at him back, your eyes now blurred with tears streaming down your face. Earlier, you had promised to yourself that you wouldn’t cry anymore, especially in front of Oikawa. Yet, seeing his flesh and bone right there in front of you after not seeing him for so long, you couldn’t help but cry tears of joy.

“I love you so much, my baby.”

You thought it was nice to hear his voice again, the smooth sound of his words now repeating itself in your ears.

“I love you too, Tooru. You don’t know how much I’ve missed you.” Placing your right hand on the table, you swiped away any new tears forming in the corners of your eyes. You chuckled along with him, the guard staring straight at the wall without intruding too much on the conversation.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there for your graduation,” his voice sounded somber, full of guilt and mourning. He lowered his head down, unable to look you in the eyes. “I’m so proud of my smart girl.”

Oikawa always knew which words to say that tugged several strings at your heart. You felt the warmth inside your body spread all throughout your limbs like a hug from the sun. Speaking to him again felt surreal, like a dream come true for you.

“You don’t have to apologize, Tooru.” You smiled softly at him, placing both of your hands on your lap. “I received your letters.”

Oikawa lifted up his head at the mention of the mail he wrote to you, his eyes sunken down with his lips parted open. You stared at him with your eyebrows pinched, wondering why he reacted the way he did.

“I’m sorry I never responded,” your smile instantly faded away into a desolate frown, knowing it must have hurt him to not have you respond. “I didn’t check my mail for months. I read all your letters in one sitting, I swear I wasn’t trying to ignore you.”

You both were startled by Leia and Kuroo laughing loudly next to you guys, their conversation entirely in a different mood than yours and Oikawa’s.

“Oh my god babe, you gotta get me the fuck outta here. Cypher keeps singing the same damn song over and over again, I’m losing my fucking mind. Got me speaking and thinking poetic and shit.” Kuroo loudly explained as Leia continued to laugh, rocking her chair back.

“Oh my god! My sides!” She cried, clutching the bump on her stomach.

“September raaaaain! Comes to meeee agaaaaain!” Kuroo placed both of his wrists on the table, leaning forward as he mimicked the lyrics to the song in an exaggerated singing voice. “Like WHAT? What does that even mean!”

Oikawa chuckled to himself, knowing exactly what Kuroo was talking about. He sang the same song over and over again every night, the same one that eased his pain because it reminded him of you. You turned your head back to him, a solemn expression forming on your face.

“I’m losing myself here. This place… this place has made me go mad.” Oikawa leaned back into the chair, lifting his head up to the ceiling. “I don’t know how to live with myself knowing I’ve hurt so many people. All my decisions have led me here.”

Oikawa exaggerated the remorse he felt, yet he didn’t mean to. Although there was truth to him becoming mad, in actuality, he felt very little guilt for the people he had killed in the past. It was just another instinctual lie for the guard listening in. He continued to stare up into the ceiling, pretending to be distraught as he didn’t trust the people around him anymore.

Yet, the only ones he felt absolute true remorse for was you, and your cousin. “I can’t live with myself knowing I killed Iwaizumi.”

“No, Iwaizumi is still alive.”

Oikawa shot his head back forward, a shocked expression on his face. For all these months, he thought Iwaizumi had died. He kept trying to come to terms with his death and how to deal with it the moment he got out of prison, yet, when his sentence was for life, he knew it was best to repress it down just like every trauma he had.

“Iwaizumi is recovering well. He’s been in a coma for as long as you’ve been in here, but the doctors say he’s making progress.” You looked down at the patterns of the oak on the table, observing the tree rings on the dark brown finish. You saw your reflection in it from the ceiling light beaming down, noticing your eyelids becoming heavier.

It felt like a substantial weight was lifted from his conscience, feeling like he could breathe again. Now knowing Iwaizumi was okay, there was only one thing he worried about—how he would be able to escape the void of this prison.

Yet, you already had everything in mind. In fact, one of the reasons Leia insisted you both visit immediately was to indirectly inform both Kuroo and Oikawa of the plan you all had with Snake Eyes and Sly Fox.

“Tooru, we’re going to get you out of here.”

September 5th — three weeks before the granted visitation

“Damn it! Fuck the police!” Leia slammed her hands on the table, enraged by the situation. Kenma and Kita sat in the chairs on opposite sides, looking closely at the scattered paperwork on the desk. You resided on the opposite end of the table from Leia, Kenma on your left, and Kita on your right.

“I really don’t understand what happened.” Kita crossed his arms, itching at his neck as his fingers tapped along the edge of his chin. “Care to explain again?”

She scrunched her nose and scowled at him as she grabbed one of the papers off the dining room table. Leia had scolded him not to smoke inside her apartment, and although it had only been about thirty minutes, Kita’s body began to crave for more nicotine. Every five minutes, he kept asking to step outside for a smoke break, yet Leia kept denying his requests.

“When I was searching through the remains of my father’s office back up in the mansion, I found all of the receipts between him and the Tokyo Police Department dating back from the early nineties,” Leia pointed to the scattered paperwork all over the table.

While popping a chip in his mouth, Kenma furiously scanned through the two pieces of paper in his hands, his eyes rapidly moving from top to bottom. You looked down at the one in front of you, picking up the edges of the business receipts labeled from over a decade back.

Detective Washijou’s name displayed a few times over and over again, with the title of the transaction labeled as “Ten billion yen — Tokyo Police Department — 1999 March 10th.” Below, it described the summary of the business deal in great extensive detail, all from the perspective of Mr. Sakanoshita. He kept records of every single transport, operation and transaction with official payroll stubs and photographs of the parties attached under the Sakanoshita crest.

Through the thousands of receipts, Leia had asked everyone to sort out the transactions dealt with the Tokyo Police Department, discarding the ones that mentioned the transports and operations DK, Cypher, Sly Fox, and Snake Eyes went on. What Leia and Kenma had planned was to put the TPD on blast, exposing their legal team bought out by the Sakanoshita Clan, letting all crime slip past through their fingers.

The evidence that the police had against Kuroo and Oikawa was circumstantial due to the lack of eye witnesses and a murder weapon present at the scene. All they had was the known connection between the Nohebi Clan, DK, and Cypher, in addition to the few sightings of their cars near the Sakanoshita Warehouse on that night.

After realizing that all their evidence was circumstantial, Leia had discovered that the bogus charge made against them was a ploy in order for them to pin the larger crimes on their sentences to keep them in prison. For some reason, the TPD weren’t targeting Sly Fox at all—suspiciously only DK and Cypher.

Leia asked for your assistance in the drug business with your degree in Biochemistry, as it came handy in times like this. You had to help clean up Kuroo’s hidden lab out where his previous residence used to be, all the dangerous lab equipment and hazardous chemicals all to be disposed of and stored properly.

She had also given you the permission to collect the shipments that still came in through the Tokyo Freight Terminal and Pier, both Kuroo and Oikawa’s stash of pure uncut South American cocaine importing all the way from the United States. Apparently, Leia had to inform you that Oikawa’s business still ran solid all throughout Asia and the Americas, his international business partners still delivering large shipments from time to time.

You had to store most of the cocaine and methamphetamine shipments inside Kuroo’s hidden lab in the mansion hills of the abandoned Sakanoshita property. Kuroo asked Leia to put you in charge of analyzing the samples brought in from the shipments, making sure the product was pure and not cut with anything else. Usually Kuroo was the one who did it for both him and Oikawa, yet with them both in prison, the work was left to you and Leia.

It wasn’t an easy job, forensic chemistry was not something you should fuck around with. Although it was an entirely different field than the subject you graduated in, the lab techniques still followed the same agenda—Kuroo also left detailed instructions in his lab on the techniques he used to observe the product in its wake.

The job left you tiresome, yet through multiple batches—you and Leia were able to confirm that all the product was pure, all wrapped in packages of duct tape and plastic bags. The shipment had over tons worth of cocaine and methamphetamine, for which Leia expressed it was normal to be given that much during one shipment, especially for two products. They received imports every few months, and in the streets of Tokyo, it sold out quickly.

Leia mentioned Kuroo was cautious of what was in the product Oikawa once received from South East Asia, because one shipment didn’t pass the inspection—in fact, it wasn’t even cocaine. It was a hybrid drug all cut with different strands of chemicals, all in different dosages way too potent for human consumption. From then on, Kuroo always made sure to check every little batch before distributing.

These jobs were one of the reasons why the Tokyo Police Department had been targeting Kuroo and Oikawa for quite some time—ready to catch them in an act that deemed them arrestable. After Mr. Sakanoshita died, the TPD stopped receiving their monthly payroll—as the money stopped flowing in, so did their reputation as a precinct.

It absolutely infuriated them, and they knew exactly who were the ones responsible for it—DK and Cypher. This also played into why Japan’s incarceration rate was extremely high; at over ninety-nine percent, there wasn’t a doubt in anyone’s mind knowing the police were bending the rules to fit their own agenda.

“I threatened to expose them with just the receipts, but they said who in the city would believe the words of a corrupt dead yakuza boss?” Leia cocked her eyebrow before picking up the bottle of Hennessy, observing the brown liquid swish against the sides. She placed the large bottle back on the table before Kita poured himself a glass, the glugs of the alcoholic beverage filling the white noise in the room.

“We need both sides of the transactions for the evidence to be reliable.” Kita took a swig, lightly placing the bottom of the bottle back to its original spot.

Leia got up from her seat and sat on the table before picking up another receipt. “I thought these fuckers would leave us alone. I paid their asses to keep their business out of ours a while ago.”

“The Tokyo Police Department has always been corrupt. They’ll rearrange the law or make up evidence just to put the blame on anyone but themselves.” Kenma mumbled without removing his eyes from the paperwork, scanning through the descriptions before sorting them out into piles.

Being a part of the business felt daunting, now knowing the ins and outs of what really went on in the underground Tokyo street racing scene. Kita disclosed to you that almost everyone involved with a car club—except for the Fukurodani Squad—ran their own illegal businesses in Tokyo along with street racing. Illegal activity followed illegal activity, and there was no way to escape it once you were looped in.

In a way down to its core, Iwaizumi had looped you in.

While conversing with the three of them, they all explained how they got into the gang life, knowing they were all looped in by Kuroo somehow. Kita explained he came from an abusive household where his mother was an alcoholic. He ran away to Tokyo when he was fifteen and became homeless until he met Kuroo, who basically saved his life.

Kenma mentioned he was childhood best friends with Kuroo, and that he was the one to introduce him to selling and distributing drugs as his partner. This was all before Mr. Sakanoshita caught the eye of Kuroo, sooner or later employing Kenma as the brains for their operations.

Leia had been surrounded by this business ever since she was born, due to being the daughter of the king of Tokyo. She had known Kuroo ever since Mr. Sakanoshita had taken him under his wing, slowly but surely falling in love with him. It was almost a forbidden romance, if it hadn’t led to the death of her father later on.

As conversations of their backstory came to a close, there was still one question you had in your mind—how Oikawa became part of the yakuza. When he told you about his life before he joined, it seemed normal, unsure of how an honors high school student dropped out at the age of seventeen. You expressed your curiosity to the group, asking if they had any insight. Lucky for you, Kita did.

“One night, all three of us were conversing about this same topic.” Kita swished around the whiskey in his glass, sucking in air through his teeth. “Cypher mentioned when he was seventeen, he and his friends from high school got drunk and decided to be rowdy around the red light district of Osaka.”

“Ah, fond memories. I used to be like that too,” Leia chimed in, swinging her legs back and forth. “Teens are rowdy.”

“He said one of his drunk friends ended up picking a fight with a man off the street, and without their knowledge, he ended up being a commander for the Kitagawa Daiichi. The man started beating up his friend, even picking up and throwing a bicycle from the street at him.”

Leia and Kenma chuckled a bit at the thought before Kita grabbed a pen off the table, pretending to swing it around like a sword. “Then Cypher came to the rescue, jumping in at the expense of his safety, giving his all to protect his friends. He was beaten very badly, but held his ground until he couldn’t anymore.”

“What I recall is that the commander was impressed with his loyalty to defend his friends so quickly. He ended up getting initiated into the Kitagawa directly after that, since he admired that man to a great extent. He quickly rose up the ranks and ended up being promoted to the faction leader of trading operations between the United States for marijuana, South America for cocaine, and the rest of Asia for methamphetamine.”

Leia raised her eyebrows while keeping her lips straight, nodding in agreement. “That’s a very highly respected position to lead. My father was very impressed with his knowledge and skills in that area.”

You began to process what came to be of Oikawa, noticing small fragments of his past coincide with his current self. It’s almost as if nothing has changed about his character, even though he seems like a completely different person now than he was before. Learning more and more about him while connecting the pieces made you want to analyze deeply into every detail of who he is, curiously wanting to know who he truly was.

The sound of the Tokyo nightlife echoed out the open window in Leia and Kuroo’s shared apartment, a cheap and run-down place in the middle of the Chuo Ward. Outside was Downtown, the traffic blaring through the small building as you got up from your seat and peered out to the view of the city.

You leaned your elbows on the windowsill, feeling the night breeze on your cheeks as you looked down from the top onto the bottom of the street—Kita’s Nissan Silvia, Kenma’s Toyota GT86, and your Mazda Miata all aligned in descending order, parallel parked on the side of the road. The humid air felt dense as you breathed in a warm inhale, staring out to the lights shining bright within the distance.

The sound of the Sumida River moving through the wharfs also echoed through, only a couple of kilometers away from the edge of Leia’s apartment building. Leia, Kenma, and Kita all continued to chatter behind you, bringing up your name in the conversation.

“Well, he said he would only talk to her.” Kita mentioned briefly before catching your attention, pointing in your direction.

You looked over your left shoulder to Kita, who seemed tempted to switch places with you in order to smoke a cigarette. “Were you talking about me?”

Kenma waved for you to come back to the table as he took a swig of Hennessy from his glass. He motioned two fingers in a come-hither motion, exhaling loudly as he gulped down a hard swallow. “Sly, explain again.”

You sat in the chair again, stretching your legs underneath the table while you leaned forward. Kita scratched at the bottom of his jaw, showing the snake tattoo over on the side of his neck. He released an exhale, his thin and bony hands swallowed in his oversized Inarizaki Bois hoodie.

“I recall Enigma telling me that he knew some information on the situation. Something about having connections inside the Tokyo Police Department. He knows a guy. Though, he said he wouldn’t budge unless you talk to him.” Kita reached into the large pocket of his hoodie, taking out a carton of cigarettes and his black zippo lighter. “I’m gonna take a smoke.”

“No fuckin’ way.” You scowled at him, crossing your arms.

Kita’s eyes widened as he shrugged his shoulders. “What? I won’t smoke in here, I’m going to the window.”

“I wasn’t talking about that. I meant no as in I’m not gonna talk to him.” You rested your elbow on the table, remembering the encounter with Suna from several months ago back at the Daikoku Futo race. A shudder ran down your spine, a painful memory resurfacing to your mind.

Leia groaned as she picked up one of the discarded receipts, crumpling up the paperwork into a ball before throwing it straight at your face. “Just fucking do it. It’s not like we’re asking you to suck his dick.”

“What the fuck, Leia.” You snapped as you crossed your arms and rolled your eyes, wincing at her remark.

Kenma chuckled without looking up, popping a chip in between his lips. “Leia’s got a point. If he’s only willing to talk to you, then so be it. We need you to do this. You’re probably our only hope at this point.”

“I agree.” Leia grabbed the Hennessy bottle and a clean brandy glass, sliding it across the table towards you. “Take a shot and think about it for a second.”

You grabbed the bottle by the stem and wrapped your fingers around the glass, pouring yourself some of the alcohol into the cup. The liquid swished around the inside edges before you placed it up to your lips, taking a swig of the drink yourself. A woody vanilla taste overwhelmed your senses as the brown liquid rushed down your throat, a burning sensation forming around your esophagus.

You exhaled loudly as they all looked at you for another answer, their eyes staring between the brandy glass and your lips. The sting lingered in your throat, a hot breath escaping out from your mouth. You felt the alcohol drip down as your mind ruminated on Suna, a similar feeling forming again at the pit of your stomach.

Remembering what Oikawa had said about him, you thought of ways to prepare for his edging questions and what he had to say. You knew exactly why he refused to speak to anyone but you, as he tried to communicate on multiple attempts. Suna had acquired your phone number through Kita and since then, you’ve ignored most of his messages. It was quite obvious he was interested in you, despite your heart already belonging to Oikawa.

Though, you knew any kind of dirt on the Tokyo Police Department would help, even if it was acquired through the most desperate of ways. Setting aside your personal vendetta against him, you decided to agree on behalf of the greater good. Deep down, the root purpose for this operation was all for Oikawa and Kuroo—you couldn’t forget about that.

“Fine.” Not wanting to let everyone down, you let out an exasperated sigh and hesitantly accepted. Turning your head to Kita, you squinted your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. “Tell Enigma that I’ll discuss only whatever is needed.”

Later that week, Suna texted you accordingly with the location pin of where he wanted to meet. He asked for you to come alone to the Tokyo Freight Terminal around midnight with only black colored clothing. You winced down at your phone as you questioned his odd request, but nonetheless still obliged.

Just as you parked your car outside the wired fences to the freight terminal, you spotted his black Toyota Supra in the shadows—his headlights turned off, only the quiet rumble of his engine accompanied with the smell of gasoline in the air. A train passed by behind him a kilometer away, the siren of its horn blowing up to the sky as the sound pierced through your ears.

You unbuckled your seatbelt and swung open your car door, stepping out onto a grass patch outside the fence. It was extremely dark outside, barely any street lights to illuminate the road leading into the freight terminal parking lot. You shut your door and beeped your keys twice before walking over with your hands in your pockets, extremely weary of your surroundings.

The sound of the bass booming inside his car could be heard from a few meters away as you jogged up behind it, your shoes clicking against the asphalt quickly. You leaned in, briefly knocking on the tinted black windows twice before he rolled it down—a cloud of smoke escaping out, the smell of marijuana infiltrating your nose.

There he was, Rintarou Suna of the Inarizaki Bois—his right hand on the top of the steering wheel, his left hand containing a joint in between his index and middle finger, and the whites of his eyes puffy and bloodshot. A smirk formed on his lips, the sound of a nineties’ beat playing on his car stereo filling up the noise.

His pupils stared straight at you, his left hand now placed behind the passenger seat. “Hey.”

Your eyelids dropped as you kept a monotonous expression, pulling the locked handle twice, insinuating for him to open the door. “Let me in.”

“Okay, babygirl.” Suna let go of the steering wheel and hovered his fingers over the side of the driver’s side armrest, pressing down on a button as the locks clicked twice.

You swung the door open, hopping straight into the passenger seat. Just like any other car enthusiast, his seats sunk low to the ground, the marijuana smoke escaping out while the night air seeped in. Taking in a deep breath of the second hand smoke, you shut the car door and crossed your arms over your chest.

“So, finally came to your senses, huh? Can’t resist me?” He placed the crutch of his joint up to his lips, pulling in a drag. He didn’t wear his Inarizaki Bois hoodie, only a fitted black t-shirt on his torso that exposed the snake tattoo on his neck and the fox tattoo trailing up from his forearm to the middle of his bicep. A short silver chain rested around his neck, somehow brightly shining in the dark.

“You were the one who asked me to meet you here.” You responded in an irritated tone, trying your best not to make eye contact with him. Staring straight at the train tracks in front of Suna’s car, you wondered if the stacked shipping containers in the distance were the Sakanoshita warehouse.

Suna chuckled to himself, coughing slightly as he rolled the driver’s side window down. The title “I Got 5 On It” by Luniz displayed on his stereo as he nodded his head along to the beat. The eerie yet catchy tune repeated in your head, the bass rumbling throughout his car.

“And you were the one who agreed.” Suna flexed his left bicep when he brought his two left fingers up to his lips, inhaling another puff. He leaned in close to you and exhaled a small breath of smoke, French inhaling it all up into his nose. “Wanna smoke for a bit?”

You stared at him blankly while moving your body back, creating space in between you both. “Enigma, look—”

“Please, call me Rin.” Suna pulled himself back as he passed the joint in between his fingers to his right hand, resting his elbow on the armrest.

“Look, Rin, I’m just here for business. Sly Fox said you knew someone in the Tokyo Police Department that could get us information.” You crossed your legs over your black shorts, the hot Summer heat still persistent in the beginning of September.

“Yeah I do, she’s a babe.” Another chuckle escaped his lips as Suna placed his right arm out the window and tapped the ash off the joint. He reached down his seat and reclined it back, quickly grabbing a stuffed manila folder from the backseat. “Had to fuck that bitch stupid for this. You’re welcome.”

After he placed it on your lap, he reached into his pocket and grabbed his black zippo-style lighter. You looked down at the heavy folder titled CLASSIFIED in all capital letters, written with a thick black sharpie. “How did she acquire this?”

“She works as a coder for the forensics department. Said she stumbled across all these hidden files dating back to the nineties that were labeled under Sakanoshita.” Suna swiped his thumb on the igniter, three clicks going off sequentially before the flame lit bright in the dark. He cradled the joint back in between his lips, taking in a fresh hit.

“Wow.” You opened the folder to reveal hundreds of written transactions between the Tokyo Police Department and Mr. Sakanoshita.

Pulling a few random papers out, you noticed how it was typed in a similar fashion as the receipts back in Leia’s apartment, “Ten billion yen — K. Sakanoshita— 1999 March 10th”. They were stapled on the side were payroll slips, all filled out by another particular name you recognized as the lead detective of the investigation: Tanji Washijou.

“So Detective Washijou is a corrupt piece of shit,” you mentioned as you looked through more of the papers, seeing his name repeatedly pop up in every single section.

“Yeah, he didn’t even have any hard evidence to arrest DK and Cypher. Actually, the TPD received an anonymous tip from a member of the Nohebi Clan that spotted them leaving the Sakanoshita Warehouse.” Suna leaned back in his seat as he rested his right hand back on the wheel. He stared out his window up into the night sky, the waning crescent moon shining bright.

“How is that possible? I thought Tetsurou and Tooru killed them all, that’s why they’re locked up in the first place. I remembered the news showed the bodies of all the clansmen washed up on the shore.” You propped the manila folder up on the edge in between your knees, stuffing the receipts back into the pocket.

Suna reclined his seat back, shifting into a comfortable position as he tucked his left hand behind his head. He let the joint continue to burn as he exhaled loudly, closing his eyes. “They never actually found the real bodies of the Nohebi Clan. The police used that as a cover story and flashed fake footage of the bodies from the forensics cadaver.”

“That’s so fucked up.” You rested the manila folder across your lap and looked out the window to your left. Another train passed by in the distance, blowing its horn as the tracks rattled against your ears. “How can anyone trust them after doing shit like this?”

“Yeah, the Tokyo Police Department is just full of lying pigs.” Suna looked out the window and placed the joint up to his lips again, chain smoking multiple hits at once. He exhaled most of the smoke out the window, a slight cold breeze coming in through the opposite side.

“Who was the last clansmen member then, if he’s still out there?” You tucked the manila folder underneath your right arm, turning your body away from Suna.

“Beats me, the bitch in forensics never gave me a name. I guess you have to find that out yourself but from what I’m assuming, that guy was probably the lookout while the other seven got killed by Cypher. I’d be on the run by now if I were him.”

This new information Suna had told you was more valuable than you thought, and he wasn’t being a complete asshole about it either. The evidence from the police department with the official stamp attached over all the documents was enough to expose the TDP for its abuses to the law.

You turned your head to see Suna closing his eyes, nodding his head along to the same song playing as before. “Well thanks, Rin. I guess I’ll be going.”

Just as you placed your left hand on the door handle, Suna grabbed your wrist—the silver rings on his thumb and index finger digging into your skin. You looked back at him, a sinister smile plastered on his face. “Just a second, babygirl. I’m not done with you.”

You shifted your body back into the passenger seat as you let go of the door handle, looking over your shoulder and shaking your head furiously. With an irritated tone under your voice, you winced your eyes while you pulled your arm away from his grip. “I told you I just came here for business. We have nothing else to discuss.”

“Look, I know you know I hate your boyfriend,” Suna swiped the manila folder from underneath your arm, holding it in a place where you couldn’t reach. “Why would I be giving you this valuable information and evidence for free?”

In that moment, you instantly knew it was too good to be true. There was always a catch, and knowing what kind of person Suna was, it was predictable that he wasn’t just going to give up something so easily without a fight. He placed the manila folder on the dashboard close to his side before finishing the joint, flicking out the crutch onto the asphalt outside.

“Cypher owes me big time for this. I’m not letting you leave my car unless he gives me something important of his.” Suna pushed his hair back with his right hand, exhaling a deep sigh before his foxlike thin eyes shot towards you.

“What do you want, Rin?”

“I want you.”

Your eyes widened in shock, yet you weren’t even that surprised by his statement. A sneer formed on your face, the corners of your mouth curled down entirely. “What? What the fuck does that even mean?”

Suna chuckled before he let out a slight cough, his matcha colored eyes staring straight into yours. He leaned in close to your proximity without suffocating your space, placing his left hand on the edge of your knee. You felt uncomfortable around the change in atmosphere, the mood quickly dropping into something ominous.

“You know exactly what that means. I wanna fuck you. I wanna fuck Cypher’s girl just to say I’ve fucked his girl. You don’t have to tell anyone about our little encounter, though. We can keep it a secret.”

You scoffed and squinted your eyes while your cheeks felt hot, your heart beating rapidly from the rage forging inside of you. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Absolutely not. What makes you think I would ever do that?”

“Then you’re not getting these receipts.” Suna leaned forward in his seat and grabbed the manila folder from the dashboard, throwing it over his shoulder onto the back console. “Good luck trying to get him out of prison without it.”

“Wait.” You instinctively grabbed his forearm, causing Suna to pause in place. He cocked an eyebrow at you, his eyes shifting up and down between your hand and your face. Looking over to the side, you pouted your lips and rolled your eyes to the left before asking him another question. “Is there anything else you want besides that?”

You removed your grip on Suna’s forearm, wiping your hand on your black shirt. He placed his right hand on his chin, pretending to ponder on your question. He hummed to himself, moving his lips to the left side of his face. “Well, there is one thing.”

“What is it?”

“I want Cypher’s cocaine supply. Not his weed, not his meth—I want his coke.”

Your eyes widened abruptly, not expecting Suna to say that particular request. He continued to smile at you, knowing he had you trapped in between two important decisions to make—one being the only product Oikawa had left for running his business, and one being you. “Why that?”

“Cypher has the best cocaine in all of Tokyo, no doubt about it. He’s got that pure South American coke, the shit I cut is nothing to compare. But if I sell his product to my customers, my business is going to skyrocket.” Suna crossed his arms over his chest, looking straight at the Sakanoshita Warehouse in the distance. “That’s why I want in on it.”

Oikawa had nothing else to his name besides his car that was stored in the Seijoh Brawlers Tune Shop. The Tokyo Police Department had forced the bank to freeze all of his assets, making it almost impossible for him to keep up with any mortgage payments. Knowing how Oikawa was afraid of Suna becoming too much like him—you couldn’t let the man in front of you take the remaining product of his business as well.

Closing your hands into fists, you responded somberly as you dropped your eyelids. “I can’t do that. It’s all he has left to his business.”

“How much can you really have left if you’re rotting your life away in prison?”

Much to your dismay, you knew Suna had a point. On one hand, Oikawa had lost so much and you didn’t want to salt the wound any further—on the other, without the evidence Suna had provided, there would be no chance for them to ever get out of prison.

“Well, you’re not taking home these documents until you choose one.” He grabbed a new joint from the middle console and the black zippo lighter from his right pocket. “So, what’ll be? You, or his cocaine?”

Tapping your foot on the floor of his car, you considered the ambiguity of the supply residing in Kuroo’s lab. All you had was the shipment that came in a few months ago, expecting a larger batch to arrive in the future. You thought that if all went well and Oikawa got released from prison within a matter of those weeks, there wouldn't be a reason for you to inform Suna about the new shipment.

“How much cocaine do you want?”

“All of his current supply.” Suna looked at you in the corner of his eye, placing the crutch of the joint up to his lips. He lit up the joint again, three clicks sequentially before the flame ignited onto the tip of the rolled paper.

“That’s it?”

He exhaled a large cloud of smoke, the smell of marijuana infiltrating your nostrils once again. Suna looked at you with another smile on his face, knowing with either decision you made, he was benefiting off of Oikawa’s suffering. “That’s it.”

You closed your eyes, grinding the back of your teeth as you muttered out an answer. “Okay, fine. It’s a deal.”

October 2nd — a week after the granted visitation

The drive to the hospital had been engraved into your mind, almost instinctual when you visited Iwaizumi every few days. Driving down to the Kanagawa Ward from your apartment in Shinjuku took almost an hour both ways, making it hard to sit in late afternoon Tokyo traffic—but it was always worth it each time.

Every Saturday, you dedicated your mornings to waking up early in order to make the drive down to the Yokohama Rosai General Hospital, where Iwaizumi had resided for the past six months. He had been in a comatose state for as long as Oikawa had been in prison, making the last half of the year torturous for you. It felt like every day stretched out way too slowly, time eroding in a linear fashion.

You remembered when it was Iwaizumi’s birthday, you had brought a small vanilla cake topped with buttercream frosting and strawberries—one of his favorites growing up. He always liked sweets that were plain and simple, nothing too fancy and nothing too complex in flavor. Standing in his room at the ICU, his nurses and doctors all joined in to sing a soft birthday tune to him.

Brainwave activity sparked in his mind when it happened, a small tear streaming down your face knowing at the very least he was conscious. Perhaps Iwaizumi knew what was going on—while in his deep slumber, the doctors always mentioned his hands would twitch after you visited him, almost spot on at the same time each day.

For several hours, you sat by his side talking to him like everything was normal. You told him about your day, what you learned in class that afternoon or about how bad Leia’s cravings got for your mom’s special inari sushi recipe. You even brought some of it to share to the doctors one time, all of you agreeing how unfortunate it was for Iwaizumi to not have taste.

Leia came along with you to visit a few times and without fail, she tried to scare him into responding, popping up beneath the hospital bed to softly whisper “Boo!” in his ear in order to get a reaction. Nonetheless, Iwaizumi laid on the bed, not a single expression on his face. You thought it was cute, both of you trying to make the best out of the situation.

As the monitors beeped continuously in your head, you sat in the same spot on the opposite side of the room, a cushioned green chair tucked away in the corner. It had become a familiar feeling to your body; the minute you sank down and stared at his body on the bed, your hands always curled around the edge of armrests, a slight underlying feeling of stress looming over you.

On some days, it felt like he would never wake up.

The nurses would come in frequently during your visit to check in on his status, feeding him through a tube that connected straight down from his nose, mouth, and esophagus into his stomach. The process itself looked painful to experience, always wondering to yourself if Iwaizumi could feel anything from it.

There were the rougher days you hadn’t seen for yourself, but when the doctors and nurses described the times where they had to assist his bowel movements and bodily secretions with machines and manual hospital equipment, you winced at the thought of it every time. You admired the work of medical professionals and what they had to endure for patient care, knowing that not everyone could handle what they dedicate their lives to.

After you had graduated, you spent more days at the hospital right next to his side. During the long summer months, the nurses and physical therapists would come in to massage his muscles and move his legs so that he wouldn’t experience muscle atrophy. They encouraged you to always massage his hands whenever you could, knowing the physical contact between you both would be beneficial.

Iwaizumi’s body naturally became weak over time, his figure seeming smaller than what you could remember him to look like. When his caregivers changed patient gowns on him, you noticed the similar dragon tattoo on his arm and chest that the other members of the Seijoh Brawlers had—all resembling the one on Oikawa’s body. His tan skin contrasted well with the intricate dark ink, the head of the dragon on his right peck, the tail trailing down all the way to the inside of his wrist.

A large scar scanned through the bottom half of his stomach, remembering how long it took to heal as the skin on his body went through regeneration. His hair grew quite long, but slowly over time—the spiked tuffs on his hair now combed over to his ears, his dark brown locks now similar to how Oikawa’s used to be.

A small beard and mustache peeked out through the bottom half of his face, tiny strands of facial hair all around his mouth and chin. If you never knew Iwaizumi before the accident, you would have thought that the man laid out on the hospital bed in front of you was a completely different person. It was astonishing to you how time could quickly change the appearance of a person—Leia, Kuroo, Oikawa, and now Iwaizumi are all examples of that.

You remembered entering through the doors of the hospital, the bitter smell of soap and antiseptics clouding your nose—the air always felt draining, the humidity always running dry. It was the one thing you couldn’t get used to every time you visited Iwaizumi. While placing the visitors tag around your neck, you pressed the red button on the ground floor, taking the elevator up to his room.

Today had marked six months since the accident, a heavy-weighted feeling always forming on your chest every time you thought about it. Once you reached the level that contained the ICU, the elevator doors slid open, the sound of the bell softly ringing in your ears. You stepped out into the main lobby of the floor, greeting the woman at the reception desk.

“Visiting Hajime again?” She teased, giving you a smile and a wave.

Throughout the six months, you got to know the staff that cared for Iwaizumi, bonding over the stories of when you and him were younger and what kind of person he was outside of the comatose.

“Always.” You smiled back, walking in the direction of his room.

When you stood outside the doorway, the main doctor that had been responsible for Iwaizumi’s patient care was already in the room with his assisted nurse. They were talking about the mundane tasks the other nurses should do, planning accordingly for another day. You knocked softly on the door, grabbing their attention.

“Hello Dr. Takeda, Ms. Hitoka.” You peeked your head in, smiling at the small figured man with glasses and the short blonde woman. They called out your name, greeting you inside.

“Hello, hello! You’re just in time, we were about to perform his daily exercises.” Dr. Takeda placed the clipboard underneath his arm, walking towards the bed. A few months ago, he was just an intern. Now after taking his boards certification, he assisted in Iwaizumi’s recovery.

“How’s he been?” You asked while taking off the bag around your shoulder, dropping it on one of the tables.

“Still the same as the last time. You come here so often that there isn’t much change in between.” The main nurse taking care of Iwaizumi, Ms. Yachi Hitoka, had responded as she placed gloves around her hands. “You’re a really good cousin to him. Not even immediate family members of comatose patients visit this often.”

“He’s the only one I have here in Japan,” you grabbed his right hand, lifting up his arm in the process as Yachi grabbed his leg. “Both of our parents are out of the country at the moment.”

“That’s unfortunate. Though, I’m glad you both have each other.” Dr. Takeda wrote down the stats to his vitals on the clipboard, looking up and down continuously. “Hajime is making exceptional progress, we might expect him to gain full consciousness within the next few weeks or so.”

“That’s amazing news,” you smiled down at Iwaizumi’s restful expression, a nasal cannula wrapped around his face to deliver additional oxygen. “I hope he does.”

Suddenly, Iwaiazumi’s grip on your hand twitched, a few of his fingers trembling against yours. Yachi stopped in place, witnessing the same movements you saw. Turning your head to look at her in shock, his eyes fluttered open beneath you both while the tips of his fingers slightly curled around your index.

“Oh my god, we need a few nurses in here!” Dr. Takeda called outside the room before two nurses came in to assist Yachi. All of you crowded around his body on the hospital bed, waiting for him to start responding on his own.

“Hey, Hajime,” you caressed the top of his head as you looked straight into his eyes, noticing his pupils dilated while he stared up into the ceiling. Yachi held his left hand, patting the top of his wrist as he started to slowly regain consciousness.

His eyes slowly shifted to the right as he scanned the room—his mouth hung open, struggling to say anything out through his lips. Though, your heart sank when he whispered the dreadful three words no one would ever want to hear their loved ones in a comatose say.

“Who are you?”

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