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poetsblvd · 5 months

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bisous 𖤓 carlos sainz 𝒙 leclerc!reader.

❨ summary. all he wanted was a kiss, it’s not his fault the paparazzi caught it, and it’s totally coincidental that your brother’s going to kill him. ❩

❨ faceclaim. @/claudiamariewalsh on instagram <3 ❩

❨ notes. i had sm fun doing this! though it did exceed the limit i was looking at, becoming a bit long, but i do wanna do a part two to this because imo the charles x carlos beef is gonna be really funny!! i hope you enjoy xx ❩

⋆⭒˚.⋆ instagram.

liked by charles_leclerc and 30,987 others.

yourinstagram. wined and dined xo

view all 11,345 comments.

username when god has favourites 😩

username holy shit

charles_leclerc mon poupette! tellement jolie.

yourusername je t’aime cha xx

username my brother is a dick compared to charles lmao

arthur_leclerc bet you were smelly.

yourusername bet you came out of a gutter.

username now that’s more like my brother

username not carlos creeping in the likes 👀

username girl bffr he’s like 6 years older than her??

username so lol #zaddy

username don’t ever say ‘zaddy again’.

landonorris wined, dined and sixty-nined.

charles_leclerc get out.

yourusername ew you weirdo

landonorris so it’s funny when kevin in the office says it??

yourusername he has rizz, unlike you.

maxverstappen1 real.

landonorris i hate you.

francisca.cgomes so stunning my girl 😻

yourusername love u forever keeks <33

username someone look at me like she does in the third pic 😭

carlossainz55 espléndida

yourusername 🤭❤️

charles_leclerc ???

arthur_leclerc ???

landonorris ???

username lando what??

landonorris felt a bit left out there 🤷‍♂️

⋆⭒˚.⋆ twitter.

⋆⭒˚.⋆ instagram.

carlossainz55 added to their stories.

seen by yourusername and 800,567 others.

yourusername replied to this story.

⤷ mon coeur 🫶🏼

⤷ je t’aime tellement !!

landonorris replied to this story.

⤷ did you wine her and dine her??

⤷ ;) ;)

charles_leclerc replied to this story.

⤷ i bought yn a ring so similar for her 21st!

⤷ what a small world eh mate?

⋆⭒˚.⋆ text messages between yn and charles.

⋆⭒˚.⋆ text messages between yn and carlos.

⋆⭒˚.⋆ instagram.

liked by carlossainz55 and 47,222 others.

yourinstagram sunny days ☀️

view all 24,432 comments.

username SOFT LAUNCH I REPEAT SOFT LAUNCH !!

username carlos crying in the likes lol

username someone check on big bro charlie 😭

charles_leclerc poupette???

charles_leclerc que se passe-t-il?? ( what’s going on? )

charles_leclerc you didn’t say BOYS were gonna be on this trip!!

yourusername is my hair not pretty?

yourusername you haven’t complimented it yet?

yourusername it’s healthier and you haven’t noticed :((

francisca.cgomes you should be ashamed charles_leclerc

pierregasly absolutely sick of you charles !!

landonorris even i noticed her stunning hair! it’s smoother!

maxverstappen1 disgusting behaviour

charles_leclerc ??? no ??

yourusername oh?? it’s not healthier? i’m not pretty anymore?

francisc.cgomes HOW DARE YOU charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc NON poupette desolee

yourusername don’t talk to me.

username me when i dream

gigihadid 😻😻

arthur_leclerc stunning hair btw

yourusername love u tur

username he’s being nice??

arthur_leclerc too bad it doesn’t help the ugly face lol

username nvm

charles_leclerc pick up the phone poupette

charles_leclerc you’re very pretty !! you’re hair is so shiny !!

charles_leclerc we’ll go shopping soon poupette 💌

yourusername okay charlie love u 🥰

arthur_leclerc i want a new ps5

charles_leclerc get it yourself.

carlossainz55 hermosa

username poor boy

username mans desperate fr

username not when she’s soft launching mate 😭😭

⋆⭒˚.⋆ instagram

carlossainz55 added to their stories.

seen by charles_leclerc and 1,678,432 others.

yourusername replied to this story.

⤷ photographer of the year !

⤷ very much thought you were gonna use the pic of me falling.

⤷ love u

charles_leclerc replied to this story.

⤷ girls’ hair get better every day.

⤷ looks oddly similar too tbh

⤷ where’d you say you were vacationing again mate?

charles_leclerc can no longer view your stories

landonorris replied to this story.

⤷ shiny hair 👀

⋆⭒˚.⋆ twitter.

⋆⭒˚.⋆ text messages between yn and kika.

⋆⭒˚.⋆ twitter.

⋆⭒˚.⋆ texts between yn and charles, and charles and carlos.

⋆⭒˚.⋆ instagram

yourusername added to their stories.

seen by carlossainz55 and 986,444 others.

charles_leclerc replied to your story.

⤷ poupette you’ve never done anything wrong in your life.

⤷ i’m not mad, call me please

⤷ desolee bebe

⤷ i have that new chanel you wanted ❤️

landonorris replied to your story.

⤷ so unserious lmao

pierregasly replied to your story.

⤷ charles is going to buy the entire mall y/n !!

⤷ tell him you’re not mad at him

⤷ DONT LISTEN TO KIKA

francisca.cgomes replied to your story.

⤷ tell pierre to piss off

⤷ let charles buy you what he wants.

⤷ omg tell him you want a ferrari !!

⤷ IN PINK !!

carlossainz55 replied to your story.

⤷ mi vida your brothers texting me again

⤷ it’s very weird he’s apologising now??

⤷ he’s asking me if you want a pink ferrari??

⤷ bebita you should have told me you want a pink ferrari??

⤷ with a matching bag okay my love 🩷

arthur_leclerc replied to your story.

⤷ TELL CHARLES YOU WANT A PS5

⤷ LO TOLD ME TO FUCK OFF

⤷ STOP TELLING ON ME Y/N

lorenzotl replied to your story.

⤷ i’m very happy for you mon chou ❤️

⤷ ignore arthur he doesn’t need a new ps5

⤷ he makes his own money.

⋆⭒˚.⋆ instagram.

carlossainz55 added to their stories.

seen by charles_leclerc and 1,410,333 others.

charles leclerc replied to your story.

⤷ who do you think you are buying MY sister a pink ferrari

⤷ you be with her, okay. you date her, okay. but buying her things?

⤷ and a matching bag???

⤷ you piece of shit.

⤷ when i said we were brothers i didn’t mean this!

yourusername replied to your story.

⤷ ma vie 💌

⤷ je t’aime tellement <3

arthur_leclerc replied to your story.

⤷ y/n wants a ps5!!

⤷ brother 😃😃

francisca.cgomes replied to your story.

⤷ you picked up the correct bag for her!!

⤷ she also likes chanel and hermès !!

⤷ you’ll be outdoing charles in no time !!

⋆⭒˚.⋆ twitter.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

❨ disclaimer. i do not own any of the images above, all were found on pinterest, this is purely for fun and nothing is based on real life ❩

#౨ৎ my works #✧. carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x fem!reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fic #carlos sainz smau #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc x reader

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notjustjavierpena · 4 months

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(Mid)summer Loving

Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Yes, based on that new picture. I’ll call this my first contribution to getting railed in a sundress season.

Summary: The last two years of being with Joel has transformed the both of you. Mostly him. For the better.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, joel’s kink is being loved and appreciated, long haired joel!!!, healthy joel, established relationship, piv sex, size kink (it's big), rough, loud and desperate sex, dirty talk, praise kink, creampie, railed in a sundress season contribution, they are so soft for each other, bit of aftercare.

Word count: 3.1k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55988128

(Mid)summer Loving

It happens when you hear him through the crowd of people in the community center. Your head whips in his direction, your eyes settling on the crinkles around his eyes as he laughs at something Tommy has said to him. He swirls the whiskey in his glass and downs it with slight difficulty because he is still smiling.

You are only a table away, sitting with some of the women from your patrol group who gossip about potential suitors in the room, especially amongst the newcomers. However, you don’t really pay attention to what is being said because the love of your life sits across from you. It makes you able to admire him, struck by his transformation since he first came to Jackson and barged into your life. Your heart is so soft for him.

The most obvious change is the hair. It’s gotten longer, the ends curling slightly in a way that softens his otherwise rugged appearance of big leather boots and tripled layered clothing. He used to have it shorter, and while you loved its fluffy bounce on top of his head whenever it was caught in the wind, it doesn’t compare to how it now frames his face by just brushing his collar in the back. It may be a subtle shift to others but to you, it means that Joel is more at ease with who and where he is, and that he has allowed change to find him.

His beard, too, has filled out. It is now thick and even, not at all the patchy scruff that you noticed the first time he talked to you by the rag pile in the trading center. He’d searched for fabric that could be used for shining the creations that he makes when seeking respite in wood carving. You had noticed the patch that resembled a heart first, your own heart skipping a beat as you forced yourself not to point it out to him immediately. That patch is gone but you’ll spend no time mourning it when the result is Joel looking healthier than ever, almost as if his body has responded to happiness with you by filling in all the gaps that heartbreak had left.

Then there’s his face. It glows, despite his age, with a newfound youth, the signs of weariness and stress of years lived too hard it once bore completely wiped away. When you first met him, your heart had ached for his tired eyes, bags underneath them revealing all the sleepless nights and the burdens that he carried. The way they shine when they look into yours has your heart at ease and you can only hope he feels the same.

Around you, the women keep chatting, talking animatedly and giggling while you sip your drink and stay silent until they are nothing but a low hum in the background.

You only snap out of it when your name is said out loud. You furrow your brow, “Sorry?”

“I said that you don’t have to worry about things like this,” one of them chirps happily, “You already got your man.”

“Guess not, guess you’re right,” you chuckle softly and start to feel shy. You have never been one to be glaringly obvious in your happiness to the point where you display it at every opportunity but then Joel came along. He may worry about the gap of years between the two of you, often feeling undeserving of your love and attention but you only wish that he could see himself from your point of view. To you, he is everything. He doesn’t see how his presence calms and grounds you, how he makes you feel safe even in a world beyond repair. In his embrace, you feel even the biggest of anxieties and the worst of your challenges shrink into nothing. All he has to do is put his gentle, calloused hands on you and talk to you in that familiar southern drawl, and then your mind quiets down instantaneously.

However, if not his hands or his voice, his loving gaze also seems to do the trick. He suddenly turns his head in your direction, catching your eyes, and the sound of the lively conversations from each table mutes to nothing. He smiles at you and mouths a ‘you okay?’ at you.

‘Save me’ you decide to mouth back at him, making a face to see him smile with amusement. He slaps his brother’s back before putting both hands on the table to push himself to stand. You didn’t think he would take it seriously but just the sight of seeing him approach you makes you want to go home with him.

“Ready to go, honey?” He asks when he reaches your table, placing a hand on your shoulder and gently squeezing.

“Hi Joel,” your friend group says in unison.

“Ladies,” he nods and they giggle like schoolgirls, “Gotta get this one home.”

You shake your head with a little smile at their reaction. Then you swing your legs over the side of the chair. Joel helps you up and a moment after having said your goodnights, you leave together like you’ve done for a few years now.

Outside, people are scattered across the town square where a huge bonfire has been erected in the spot where the Christmas tree usually stands. Today is the annual midsummer celebration. Jackson is decorated with bundles of flowers that have replaced the painted eggs that tell people it is Easter. You smile at the memory of Ellie having been forced to join in on getting people in the spirit of Easter which had resulted in you trying to guess which of the eggs hanging from the sky had been crafted by the angry teen. You had decided that it might’ve been the one painted completely black.

Now, bright colors from nature hover above your head instead as you make your way down the main road. Joel holds your hand all the way home. He strokes the back of it with his thumb, feeling no pressure to fill up the silence between you as it has reached a point where it is comfortable.

When you reach your shared house, Joel stops you by the front door instead of opening it for you in the gentlemanly way he always does. He stands in front of you, the porch light softening his features as he gazes at you.

“You seemed a bit distracted with your friends tonight,” he notes, “Is everythin’ alright?”

“Just thinking about how lucky I am,” you answer with a smile, your voice sincere, “To have you.”

“I’m the lucky one, baby,” Joel huffs out a little laugh of disbelief, trying to brush off how flattered he always feels each time you say things like this. He gathers your hand in both of his, lifting it to kiss the back of it a few times, “Best fuckin’ thing that ever happened after the world ended.”

“Don’t let Ellie hear that,” you tease gently. In your chest, your heart hammers against your ribs from being loved by him.

“I’d never dream of it,” he steps closer with his eyes burning to get closer to you. You see them darken slightly as desire fills them and your heart jumps into your throat at the realization of what he wants.

You.

He wants you.

That’s the one thing that has also changed since you met him; he has become much more untameable when he has you around. Who knew that his stamina was so impressive? Who knew that Joel Miller getting a confession of love - whether it consisted of the actual words or simply was said in your actions - would have him dragging you to somewhere private as soon as possible?

“I love you, Joel Miller,” you say dreamily, pulling the trigger, “To the day that I die.”

And then suddenly Joel rips the door open so roughly that you’re afraid it might come off its hinges, pulls you inside along with him and slams it shut behind the both of you afterward. He locks it without hesitation, not about to be interrupted by any of your neighbors even if it’s most likely that everyone is out and about the town to be social.

You are pressed up against the door next, his broad hands resting on your hips as he holds you against it. He bunches up the skirt of your sundress, groping your sides on top of the fabric, and you sling an arm around his back. Your other arm reaches up so you can cup the back of his head, your fingers sliding into the hair there. He has the perfect length for pulling these days - you should know - but you’ll wait for the right moment.

His lips nearly bruise yours with how hard he kisses you, beard scratching your skin as he practically eats at your mouth to the point where your head swims and your belly swirls with hours of suppressed desire. You need him now, already soaked through your underwear and ready for him to be inside of you.

“Fuck me,” you whine against his lips, heart beating rapidly in your chest. So much that your breathing is already uneven, “Please, Joel, please.”

“S’alright, baby, I know whatcha need,” he rasps as his lips messily start descending on your chin, all the way across your jaw until his mouth attaches to your throat. You let your head bump against the door with a breathy moan, giving him access to bruise your neck too. He creates a purple mark that you will try to hide tomorrow during patrol to avoid interrogation on how Joel Miller is in bed. Only you can know.

Your skirt falls down the slight amount it has been pulled up when Joel goes to unbuckle his leather belt. The noise of the metal sends a shiver through you, anticipation rising to your cheeks by heating them up underneath no touch. You look down to see the belt hanging open, him shoving the denim down around his thighs afterward and following up with his briefs too.

The sight of his cock makes your mouth water. He is fully hard already, standing into the air at full attention and threatening to smear your pretty dress with his precome by poking into your belly if he dares get closer. You moan pathetically and he shushes you gently.

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he soothes you like he would a child that has scraped their knee. He curls his fingers in the fabric of your dress once more before hiking it up along your thighs until he can stuff the bottom of the skirt into the top of your dress, effectively holding it up so it doesn’t fall down over your soaked panties again.

You grab at the sides of your underwear to shimmy out of them but Joel doesn’t exercise enough patience to wait for you to step out of them, so he hooks his fingers into the front. He finds your eyes when he feels how wet the cotton fabric is, doesn’t directly say anything about it but just shows you how full-blown his pupils are at the realization. Without warning, he yanks your panties to the side.

Satisfied with his work, he makes you gasp as he bends his knees to reach down and splay his strong hands on the back of your thighs. He lifts you off the ground and wraps you around him, pressing his knee into the door to hold you up while guiding his throbbing cock into you. You moan desperately at the initial sting, brows furrowing with slight pain as he sheaths himself inside of you to the hilt.

“Oh my God,” you whimper, letting his name fall from your lips in a helpless chant as he pulses from how your walls choke him as you strain to take him like you always do in the beginning. He might just split you open right here in the hallway when he starts fucking you.

“Shh, you can take it,” he whispers with the most brutally gentle peck on your zipped lips, “It’s okay. She knows it’s big, baby, but she can take it. I always fuck ya real good, don’t I?”

You nod helplessly, and fuck you, he does. It’s fast and hard and dirty. The poor wooden door rattles alongside the jingle of his belt buckle with each slam of his hips, the doorknob painfully gnawing into your lower back, and you fear the fabric of your underwear will snap from the strain that is put on it as it sits to the side. Sometimes you think you might even cut a hole in some of your pairs with how often Joel, still two years later, rushes to get his cock into you. There’s something oddly satisfying and offensive about just being able to bend over and let him see that all he has to do is push in.

“That’s it, look at me, baby, such a good girl f’me,” he praises to get you back to him, not here to lose your attention to the way his cock feels inside of your tight heat. Your eyes settle on him again, your mouth hanging open to elicit pathetic gasps each time he knocks the wind out of you by driving his hips up into you and effectively pounding your g-spot. His face is so close to you; you can feel his breath and share it with him, can study every little imperfection in the form of tiny scars and dark lines that you hadn’t been able to see earlier from your seat a few tables over.

“Joel,” you pant, digging your heels into the small of his back, clinging on desperately and angling your hips as he has his way with you. The slight adjustment has him going deeper, touching something inside of you that ignites the first sparks of an orgasm. Your nails claw, dig and scratch at his back in ways that would have been enough to draw blood if he wasn’t wearing a shirt, “Fuck, baby! Don’t— ngh, don’t stop.”

“You feel so good,” he replies with a groan, most likely powering through the exhaustion and strain on his body to make you feel even better. He is everywhere on you, his hands on your thighs, gripping and squeezing. He is everywhere in you too, his cock twitching inside of you each time you cry his name.

“I’m—“ you sob.

“Let go, baby, I can feel ya,” he growls when you dance around the edge of your orgasm because your fingers on both hands tangle into his beautifully chocolate hair, yanking harshly as impending pleasure knocks the breath out of your lungs. Your skin burns, your whole system halts and goes into overdrive at the same time until all you can do is shout silently at the ceiling. Your walls clench in mind-altering ecstasy then and your quietness is over, replaced by a relieved whine as you come on his dick. It is intense from how fast you’ve gotten there since he entered you, your body writhing as it is held against the wall. He fucks you through it, has you wailing as he chases his own high.

You cradle his head during his last few thrusts, feeling his damp breath against your shoulder as he buries himself inside of your spent cunt and comes hard. It feels so good when he groans as he fills you up, the sound vibrating through his entire body. You whimper at the ceiling with the way he pulses deliciously with each breathy moan until he has no more to give you.

He leans all his weight into you as he comes down again, holding you in place with his chest against yours to make sure that you won’t fall down and drag him with you. He gives you a moment and places a string of lazy kisses on your lips until he slips out of you with a soft sound.

Carefully, he places you back down on the floor and eyes you as he does it to be certain you won’t collapse. He moves off of you when it feels safe to do so.

“I say it back?” He asks as he leans against the door with you. Automatically, you tilt your head towards him. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, turning his head a second later to fully look at your disheveled state. You have a hand on your chest to calm your breathing but it still matches your fluttering heartbeat. He still aches between your legs.

You look back at him, awaiting his words with short breaths, “Say what?”

He makes a gesture to the both of you, “Before what we just did happened. I tell ya that I love you too?”

“No?” Your reply is almost a question.

“Shame on me,” he smiles and turns his whole body so that he faces you completely, shoulder against the door. His eyes soften as he reaches out, his hand gently cupping your cheek. The warmth of his touch is nice when the sweat has started to cool you down, and you lean into his palm, feeling the roughness of his calloused skin against you.

“Shame on me, indeed,” he murmurs, eyes on your slightly open mouth, “Because I do love ya. More than I can understand sometimes.”

“You don’t have to say it back every time, Joel. I know,” you try to brush off how much your body and mind buzz at the same time.

He shakes his head slightly, his eyes never leaving your mouth, “No, I do needa say it. You deserve to hear it. I love you.”

You nod and reach to hold his wrist when he leans in to press a gentle kiss to your open mouth. Just a few minutes ago, the now-careful hands had been rough on your skin and his words had dripped with sin.

“Now, how ‘bout I take you to bed?” He asks and pulls your dress’ skirt out of the top, watching it tumble down and fall back into place around your knees.

While you wait for him to get dressed again, fatigue seems to finally have caught up with you because you feel like you might collapse in your hallway at that suggestion. When it’s safe to do so, you let yourself fall into his arms and he catches you without hesitation.

He scoops you up, goes upstairs with you in his arms, undresses you, washes you down with a warm flannel, and gets you into bed. You curl up on your side and after a while, after hearing his boots come off and the shuffling of clothes, the bed dips from his weight.

The warmth of his body against your back lulls you to sleep. Oh, how simply he loves you. Forever doesn’t seem like a lot to ask for.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

#pedro pascal characters #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #the last of us #my writing #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller the last of us

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lovebugism · 9 months

Note

Hi!!!

Could you write jealous!eddie x reader…🫣

I’m down so bad for this man istg

ty for requesting :D i too am down bad for this man — grump!eddie can't believe other people get to look at you (jealous!eddie, established relationship, 1.7k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

Eddie thought the comic book section of Family Video was the coolest thing in the world until he met you. And it’s weird ‘cause now you’re all he can think about. He’s holding a collector’s item in his hands, but all he can see is you — and how close you’re standing to Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.

The boy lays two VHS tapes on the counter before you, each packaged in a thick plastic case. My Neighbor Totoro and The Land Before Time. He waits for you to make an impossible choice while you idle just ahead of him, elbows propped on the countertop with your head in your hands. Your wide-eyed gaze darts between the two options.

Your head shakes between your palms. “I can’t decide,” you conclude, rising to full height with a final huff. “It’s like choosing your favorite child.”

“Well, good thing you don’t have to,” Steve quips with a lopsided smirk. His nose scrunches, and it makes his honey eyes sparkle. “‘Cause you’re getting both. On the house.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you tell him, brows pinched in a quiet sort of protest.

He drops the tapes into a plastic bag, then shrugs like his hand slipped. “Too late.”

“Won’t your boss get mad?”

“What Keith doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“I don’t want you getting in trouble because of me,” you agonize, face twisted with every bit of it.

Steve meets your worry with a wider, pink grin. He bounces a shoulder and jostles the nametag pinned haphazardly to his emerald vest. “I’ll be fine, alright? I’m strong— I can take one of Keith’s stupid lectures.”

Your hesitant fingers brush his golden ones when you take the bag from him. “You’re so brave, Steve Harrington,” you lilt with a teasing glint in your eye, tilting your cheek to your shoulder to feign sincerity.

“The bravest, actually,” the boy jokes in return.

Eddie watches all this play out from where he lingers at the comic book stand. A whole rack of his favorite superheroes, and he isn’t paying an ounce of attention to a single one.

He was only halfway listening at first, still mostly focused on the cartoon in his hands — if only to pretend he wasn’t completely eavesdropping on your conversation. But now he’s outright staring the two of you down, with an unabashed glare pointed at the asshole flirting with his girl.

“God, he’s disgusting,” Eddie grumbles under his breath when Steve says something that makes you laugh.

He’s not talking totally to himself. Not entirely, anyway. Dustin’s crouched just beside him in search of one of the newer comics that he swears Keith is hiding from him. “He’s just being nice,” the curly-haired boy reasons with a shrug, obviously distracted as he flips through a stack of flimsy magazines.

Eddie scoffs and finally turns away from you to look at the boy below him. He blinks for the first time in several minutes as he shoots the kid a deadpan stare. “Oh, so it’s not because he thinks my girlfriend’s hot?”

“He’s definitely doing it because she’s hot,” Dustin answers without thinking twice.

“Watch it, Henderson.”

“You asked!” he argues, tilting his chin to look up at Eddie with a wide, ocean-eyed stare. “I’m just saying. Steve’s a good guy. He wouldn’t do that to you— Now, can you please help me find this stupid comic book before I lose my mind?”

Eddie huffs. He decides it might be healthier to distract himself with this metaphorical treasure hunt than stare daggers at you and Steve from across the room. “Which one are you looking for again?”

“Metamorpho— The original. Not the stupid reprint that just came out.”

The older boy stills. He closes the comic book between his palms with one pale hand until the cover of it flips down. Metamorpho, the vibrant cover reads, The Element Man. He’d been too busy looking at you, he hadn’t realized he’d been hiding the thing from Dustin for five whole minutes.

“Is this it?” Eddie murmurs, shoving the thing in the boy’s face.

Dustin’s head shoots up. He snatches the thing from the boy’s grip and gapes at it, with all his practiced teenage boy dramatics. “You had it the entire time?!” he shouts, but Eddie’s already sauntering to the front counter — where Steve’s still making you laugh.

As pretty as you are smiling (so much that it makes his chest ache), there’s a simmering anger burning orange in his chest. Making you laugh is his job. Not Harrington’s.

You seem to notice his presence before he’s even wrapped you in his arms. You flash him a beaming grin that makes his stomach whirl. He gets sick with it — with nostalgia or something equally tender.

The green of his envy starts to fade when he realizes you’re wearing his skull and cross-bones sweater, all bundled up in it like it’s yours. He feels a primal sense of ownership, knowing that you’re swaddled in something that belongs to him, knowing he has you in a way Steve doesn’t. It’s not every day the local freak gets to one-up the king.

“Ready to go?” Eddie grins, rosy and broad, as he wraps his arms around you in a loose, sideways embrace. The warmth of the proximity has your stomach doing backflips. The familiarity of his scent, musky and woody and smoky, makes your heart thud hard against your ribcage.

“Yep,” you nod, still smiling. “Steve’s letting me get the movies for free.”

Eddie’s lips smack against his teeth as his jaw drops in a feigned sense of awe. His wild curls bunch at his shoulder when his head tilts softly sideways, looking at the boy across the counter. “Aw,” he croons, high-pitched and sarcastic. “Isn’t that sweet?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Shut up before I revoke your comic stand privileges.”

Eddie squints. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me, Munson.”

Eddie, deciding to be the bigger person, chooses to abandon the petty argument. He feels like the bigger person, anyway — like he’s ten feet tall, walking out of Family Video with you under his arm. He could lose a thousand arguments and still feel like a winner as long as he gets to crawl home to you.

You can’t help but notice how weird he’s being, though. There was a foreign bite behind his words as he spat his sarcasm at Steve. The tension follows you even now, as he opens the passenger side door of his van for you.

Eddie holds onto the rusted latch with a pale, tattooed hand. You turn to face him instead of planting yourself onto the chipping pleather seat. “Are you okay?” you ask, a subtle furrow between your brows when you peer at him from beneath your lashes.

The boy scoffs a boyish laugh, obviously overcompensating. “Yeah, I’m fine— what are you talking about?”

Your eyes narrow. “You’re being weird.”

“I think you’re being weird, doll— interrogating me outta nowhere.”

He expects you to laugh. Then he could tell you how pretty you are, and you’d be so flustered by the compliment that you’d forget this entire conversation ever happened. You don’t laugh, though. You don’t even crack a smile. You just keep staring at him.

“I’m fine,” Eddie groans, wild curls billowing when a breeze rolls by. He still tries to smile, though the bright pink expression doesn’t quite meet his eyes. He shrugs and tries to play it cool because anything less than that is so not metal. “I’m just… I’m just a little annoyed. That’s all.”

Your chest stings and your stomach starts to ache. Your mind reels as you try to understand what you could’ve done because the oh-so-sensitive you feels like it must be your fault.

“Annoyed at me?” you press in a tiny voice.

“No!” Eddie booms instantly, much louder than you. He quietens, but his face still swirls with protest. He could never be annoyed at you. As far as he’s concerned, you’ve never done anything wrong in your life. “No— are you kidding? You’re perfect.”

He takes your face in his ringed hands, cradling your cheeks until they squish softly together. A perfect thing, indeed.

“Then what happened?” you mutter through your gently jutted lips.

The boy drops his chin to his chest and sighs. He hates that you care so much about him that you actually make him talk about his feelings. He’d much rather bottle them up and save ‘em for a rainy day. But no, you love him enough to pry the hidden emotion from his cold, black heart.

“I don’t know,” he answers first in an inaudible murmur, kicking at loose pebbles on the concrete because it’s easier than meeting your eyes. “Sometimes it gets annoying when… Other people look at you, I guess…”

He peeks at you beneath his long lashes, button eyes made of chocolate. They swim with a glittering emotion. Something tender and sheepish. He’s like a puppy when he looks at you this way. You can’t help but find him utterly adorable accordingly.

He’s a little surprised when his words make you laugh. He wasn’t joking, really, but he’s relieved to hear the honeyed sound. It runs over him like drops of summer rain and absolves him of all his envy.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think I can fix that,” you reply, smiling wide between his calloused palms.

“I know,” he whines, pouting softly. “And it sucks. ‘Cause you’re too pretty for your own good.”

You lean further into his warm hand. You blink at him with pretty eyes, and in a pretty voice, you wonder, “Would it make you feel better if I said that I only care when you’re looking at me? And that everyone else is basically invisible when you’re around?”

Eddie’s heart swells so much it starts to ache. You’ve awoken something in him — something that used to be dead before you came around, or something that didn’t exist at all. It’s something golden and made of velvet. Something warm and honeyed. Something that doesn’t have a name because you don’t even know you’ve invented it.

Despite trying not to smile too wide, a beam begins to pull at the corners of his mouth. A second later, and he’s grinning with all his teeth. He gets all shy, ducking his gaze as he nods at you. “Yeah, actually— that does make me feel a little better.”

You beam up at him, all lovesick and stupid. With your cheeks still in his hands, you rise to the tips of your toes and press a smacking kiss to the flushed apple of his cheek.

Eddie figures it doesn’t get more metal than this.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: bug turns one

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cloudcountry · 2 months

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I just discovered your writing and I love how you write Idia! If requests are open, could you write Idia with an S/O that cooks for him? It's heavily implied that Idia has depression and is very thin do to his lack of self care and malnutrition, but since he started dating he gains some weight and gets a bit insecure about it but reader comforts him because they're just happy that's he's eating healthy

SUMMARY: idia is starting to eat healthier and put on weight, which spawns new insecurities. you help him through it.

COMMENTS: i'm so unhinged about this request please. PLEASE. do not look at me right now im in SHAMBLES. you've saved my life with his request. IVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT IT FOREVER I WROTE THIS IN LIKE 45 MINUTES IM LOSING IT. THIS BAD BOY CAN FIT SO MUCH NON SEXUAL INTIMACY IN IT. CRYING.

In the beginning of your relationship, getting Idia to eat and drink was like pulling teeth. You didn’t want to force it—Idia knew how he felt far better than you, and making him do something he didn’t want to was just cruel. You knew from the start that if he didn’t want to eat, he wouldn’t, and even after consulting Ortho you didn’t notice any changes in his attitude towards eating. You reminded him to drink water constantly and brought him little snacks, but the water bottles remained mostly full and the snacks were unopened. While you managed to coax another few sips of water out of Idia, the snacks were still a no-go and his vitamin drinks won the day once again.

It took until the two of you were second years for him to consider eating more, and you were so delighted that you began to cook for him. Although he still gained most of his nutrients from those vitamin drinks he’d always drink in place of meals, you were so proud of him when he started eating the small portions you’d set out for him. Each container had four sections, one full of dried fruits, one with nuts, one with vegetables, and the last with meat. You always wrote him a note telling him how proud of him you were, encouraging him to eat the whole thing but letting him know he could stop eating whenever. It was more of a snack than anything, but he’d eaten it, the whole thing, and you felt so moved you’d almost cried.

Idia never thought it was that much a deal, even when you started gradually increasing his portion sizes into your third year at NRC, always replying to your praise with bashful mumbles and scoffs, twisting his beautiful hair into knots as a nervous habit. He would finish his snacks and bashfully ask for more, turning his pink cheeks away from you when you’d beam and tell him you’d be on it right away. Noodle dishes were popular, along with sweet chicken recipes, and anything with rice or pasta. You avoided using meats like pork or beef or anything that wasn’t light like poultry. Idia always favored things that went down easy, not hearty meals that left you feeling stuffed (and, of course, you never fed him sushi due to his dislike of raw fish.)

He was drinking more water as the years went on, too—by the time you came to collect his dishes and figure out if he wanted more food or not, you’d catch a glance of a half empty water bottle and feel your heart fluttering in your chest. It made you so happy to see him eating and drinking healthier. Even if he complained about needing to go pee more often (which took out of his gaming time, oh the dramatics) you could tell he felt better. It had been a journey of three years but you and him were making some serious progress together, and you couldn’t be more proud.

To celebrate just how proud of him you were, you’d gotten Idia a small chocolate cake to go with his lunch, and you were delivering it a bit early to surprise him.

Balancing all of the food on one hand, you bounce on the balls of your feet as you punch in the security code to his room (it changed every day and he always texted you the new one, reassuring you that your messages had been encrypted ten times over so nobody could even chip at the defenses, not that you were worried about someone hacking your phone in the first place.) The door opens with its usual mechanical woosh and shuts behind you the second you step inside, immediately locking again.

“Idia, I bought you a gift today!” you cheer, setting the containers down on his bed.

You turn around to face the rest of his room before stopping dead in your tracks, coming face to face with very wide eyed, shirtless Idia. He’s clutching his shirt to his chest, trying to hide as much of him as he possibly can, but the way the fat of his stomach pinches and rolls at his side could still be seen past the fabric. Your mouth forms a small o shape as you stare, taking him in.

“Stop staring!” he yells, and it's only then that you notice the tears in his eyes and the pink borderline red flickers in his flames, “Get out!”

He throws himself into the gamer chair, spinning it enough so that the back of it faces you. You can see him curling up into a little ball, struggling to get his shirt on in the state he’s in.

“Idia, wait!” you call out, stopping him in his tracks.

Soft sniffles fill the room, and it breaks your heart.

“Why are you here early?” he snaps, still not coming out from his hiding place.

“I bought you a miniature cake. You’ve been eating more lately and I’m proud of you for that.” you say softly, sitting down on his bed, “I’m not going to come over there, darling. Don’t worry. This is a safe space, you know? I would never judge you.”

Idia is silent for a few beats before he speaks again.

“Maybe...maybe I should stop eating.” he murmurs, and the pain that shoots through your heart makes you gasp.

“Idia, no.” you plead, gentle even though you’re panicking, “What’s making you feel this way? You’ve been doing so well, you’ve told me how good you’ve been feeling this past year because you’re eating healthier, what changed?”

“I look like this!” he spits out, and there’s so much self loathing in his tone it brings tears to your eyes as well.

“You look beautiful, darling, you always have. What about yourself do you not like?” you plead, hoping and praying he’ll open himself up to you.

“I’ve gained weight. I’m not as skinny anymore. I look gross.” he peeks out from behind his chair and your heart breaks at how bloodshot his eyes are, “I don’t...want you to see me like this and leave me.”

“My love...” you keep his gaze, leaning as close as you can to him without leaving the bed, “I love you no matter what you look like, you know that right? I love you as a person. You will always, always look lovely to me. I love you. I don’t love a perfect version of you I made up in my head. Every single insecurity you have, I love, because they aren’t flaws. They’re just you.”

You let him take your words in, listening to his heavy breaths before you stand up.

“Darling...can I see you?” you ask carefully, “I want to see you.”

He hesitates.

“Promise me you won’t be disappointed.” Idia’s voice cracks mournfully, like he’s already accepted a fate that will never befall him.

“Never.” you answer immediately.

Your breath catches in your throat when he shamefully moves away from his gaming chair, staring at the ground to avoid looking at you. Your heart hits the ceiling with how light it feels, your lungs contracting and your body growing warm. Oh, he’s ethereal.

You take in the parts that he hates—the creases of his neck and his soft pecs (his nipples are blue, you note, and honestly that doesn’t surprise you), the rolls of his stomach and the fiery trial of hair that leads to his pelvis. You take in the blue glow under his arms and the way the fat of his upper arm folds into his shoulder, and his way his stomach hangs a little over the waistband of his pants. You take it how his arms are bigger now, whether that be from growth or the added weight you don’t know, but what you do know is that all of this beauty was hiding under his hoodie for the past three years. Probably even longer.

“You’re beautiful.”

And your voice breaks as a single hand covers your mouth, hearts in your eyes as you finally, finally make eye contact with Idia, his hair sparking and popping like solar flares as the flames turn pink.

You love that pink.

“B...Beautiful!?” Idia jerks back, looking so scared and ashamed and confused, “What are you talking about!? Beautiful is for men in otomes with eight pack abs, I’m no ikemen but I’m not stupid and how could you ever call me something like that—!?”

“Idia Shroud, you’re beautiful!” you shout, your voice far louder than you intended and it cracks again because oh, you’re so emotional, how could this man think he’s anything but beautiful?

“...what?” he whispers, shirt still clenched in his hands like a lifeline, “You...you don’t want to leave me?”

What you want to do is ask why you ever thought he’d leave you in the first place.

What you do instead, is tell him no.

And you stay.

You don’t make an excuse to leave or try to let him down slowly. You stay in his room and you ask to hug him, you stay in his room and you embrace him so tenderly when he says yes, you stay in his room with him and you kiss his temple, holding all of the extra fat he didn’t come with when you fell in love with him in your arms, loving him all the same even though he’s changed.

He doubts you’ve ever called someone beautiful as many times as you’re calling him that right now.

So Idia shuts his eyes and buries his face in your shoulder, hiding his face and his body and his sobs from the rest of the world in the safety of your arms.

You really will love him no matter what.

He doesn’t know what to do.

#auburn's fics <3 #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #idia shroud #idia x reader #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud fluff #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst fluff #twisted wonderland fluff #gn reader

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lyssaluvs · 8 months

Text

Just Play the Part

(Luke Castellan x Fem!Dionysus!Reader)

Summary: A makeover from Silena and the Aphrodite girls gives you the confidence boost you need.

A/N: this took me so bloody long it's borderline embarrassing. also luke is so out of character it almost makes me sick but whatever. god this is so short, i'm so sorry.

Warnings: Use of Y/n, reader is described to have curly hair but that's about it.

Children of Dionysus are rare, daughters even more so. As a matter of fact, you were the only one. To your knowledge… Before you came to Camp Half-Blood, you were an only child, and when you arrived, you suddenly had a much larger family that you did before. A father, brothers, it was fantastic, it felt amazing to have the family you had always dreamed of. However, with a somewhat absent mother, apparently no sisters, and not a whole lot of friends, let alone female ones, you had had little to no feminine influence in your life. This resulted in you becoming a bit of a tom-boy. It’s not that you didn’t want to embrace your femininity, you just didn’t know how.

“Oh goodness, those curls are a mess.”

“That outfit certainly isn’t doing her any favours.”

You heard the whispers as you walked past the small group of Aphrodite girls. As a child of Dionysus, you had quite a talent for theatrics, as well as being prone to sarcastic remarks, so you just couldn’t help but snap back.

“Can I help you?” You asked the group of girls, hands on your hips with your brows furrowed.

“Actually, we were wondering if we could help you…”

---

You now found yourself sat in a surprisingly comfortable barber-style chair in the bathroom of the Aphrodite cabin.

“Sorry I got defensive; I’m not really used to talking to girls much.” You apologise to Silena once again.

“Stop apologising! We love having a new girl to give makeovers to. And who knows, maybe this will give you the confidence boost you need to finally talk to Luke, since he’s obviously too shy to talk to you first.”

You cast your gaze downward as a warmth spread across your cheeks.

“Don’t worry, you’re not that obvious. I just have a knack for these kinds of things, comes with being an Aphrodite kid. Luke, however, is about as subtle a sledgehammer. Please don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.” She paused combing your hair to look you in the eye.

You just shrugged.

“The lingering touches when he corrects your stances, yearning stares…” She awaited your reaction and when she was met with a befuddled expression, she continued.

“Oh my god, you’re oblivious. Here’s what you’re going to do. Once we’re done here, you’re going to walk right up to him, and ask him out. There’s no way he’ll say no, so don’t try that excuse. And I’ve seen you on stage, you can certainly play an outgoing character, so if you’re going to use the shy excuse, I’ll tell you to just pretend you’re on stage.”

---

It had been almost two hours and your makeover was finally over. Your curls were healthier than ever, your nails were painted, light makeup had been applied, and you had never felt more beautiful. You looked at your outfit in the mirror, taking note of the way the new flare jeans were much more flattering than your previous daggy cargos, and your camp tee now a size smaller and no longer drowning you.

“You’re lucky orange suits you, now go get your man!” Silena pushed you out the door, giving your butt a playful smack on the way out.

---

Feeling more confident than ever you approached Luke while he was practicing his swordsmanship in front of the setting sun, alone, as he usually was at this time of day.

“Luke”

The brunette boy turned around so swiftly he almost lost his footing. He looked you up and down and swallowed heavily.

“Y/n, you look ama- “

“Do you want to go out with me?” The words shot out of your mouth before you could stop them. Regardless of Silena’s reassurance, if he did end up rejecting you, you wanted to get it over and done with as soon as possible.

His jaw dropped and he looked as though he wanted to say something, but his voice wouldn’t cooperate. The two of you stood in silence for a few moments as you waited for an answer.

“It’s fine if you don’t. I’ll just go.” You began to turn around.

“YES! Sorry, yes, I want to go out with you. Please. I really want to go out with you.”

It seemed his voice had finally caught up with his mind.

Hmm… He’s cute when he rambles…

@elz-zalarrr this one's for you!

credit to @cafekitsune for the divider!

#percy jackson x reader #luke castellan x reader #pjo x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan #pjo tv show

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riaki · 10 months

Text

nice boys and sour hearts | satoru gojo x reader

wc: 4.6k cw: minor swearing, he refers to u as 'momma' once (its normal i promise) n i think thats about it post suguru defection, shoko typical smoking ; no established relationship b ur def more than friends

i didnt want this angst to be too intense so i made it super duper fluffy. hopes it tastes like strawberries to u cs it does in my head ; another one of those fics i whipped up to meet the weekend deadline b i’m actually proud of this one not proofread!

satoru hates arguing with you.

it bites at him; twists his heart from the inside out in such a gut-wrenching way that he can hardly stand seeing your nose wrinkle in frustration and your eyes narrow with impatience, let alone hear the words coming out of your mouth, dripping with venom and irritation directed at him. he's never been used to being on the receiving end.

it tastes sour; bitter on his tongue in a way he's never been accustomed to. his tastebuds only recognize the sweet taste of fruit syrup, powdered sugar, or warm chocolate as home; he never indulges in the bitter, like the black coffee the kid he took in seems to like so much. but he'll take the silly sour lemon drops with sweet cream in the center, only because they remind him of you. you, so sweet when you love but sour when you're annoyed, which happens to be now, in this instant.

of course, he'll tell himself he doesn't mind. that sweet and sour have always gone nicely together. like strawberry lemonade on hot summer afternoons when the both of you have had enough of being stuffed into a clammy hot classroom with your musclebrain teacher. sometimes its the three of you, maybe even the four of you if you get lucky with the pixie stick trade offering (a healthier alternative to a cigarette, you both agreed on). but nowadays, it was only ever the two of you. the bitter had chosen his own path, and tangy was locked up in the infirmary sun up to sun down.

but right now, you're upset with him. and he absolutely despises it— to him, it's abhorrent. a strong word, but it's only fitting. but he can't help it when your conversation lingers in his mind, spinning itself a web of self-doubt and hurt and anger as he slips his gym shoes off and redresses himself by the school lockers, running a hand through his hair with a forced, annoyed exhale.

it was nothing big, really. or at least, that's what he thinks. you'd been in the gym after school, watching as he messed around with the basketball, seeing how long he could go dribbling by himself with a bump of his knee there, pushing it to the floor with his hand and watching it bounce back up with mild interest. he had no one to play with, but at least the ball would come back up no matter how much he pushed it down.

it was small. barely worth fussing over.

he had already been irritated. it was hot out, because summer was coming around. sweat beaded on his neck and rolled down his chest, seeping into his shirt as he wiped his forehead and made another shoot at the hoop, landing back on his feet with a soft thud as the basketball rattled around the rusted metal ring and fell through the net for the nth time that afternoon.

a hum of approval comes from your throat, followed by a loud whistle of contentment from him as he watches the ball bounce on the floor. he hikes his sunglasses up his forehead, bringing an arm up and wiping away the sweat on his cheek with his sleeve as he turns to look at you.

"that was pretty good, yeah? i think i deserve a celebratory smooch. lay some sugar on me, momma'." he laughs, loud and arrogant. you just give him a pointed look at that, but he ignores it as a sign for something wrong and only acknowledges it as your dramatic endearment. like speeding up at the sight of a yellow light in hopes that you'll make it instead of slowing down at the warning.

his shoes made squeaking sounds on the gym floor as he made his way over to you, swiping his shades off his face and sliding them onto your forehead, nestling in your hair as he grabbed a rag from the bench and wiped the sweat from his jaw. you have his uniform jacket on your lap, the yellow button glinting in the dying sunlight filtering in through the windows, reflecting off indiscernible flecks of dust in the air.

you had watched him with quiet contentment, observing the languid way he moved, graceful like a dancer moving in water. but then, you seemed to remember something; his lips pressed into a thin line, tilted to one side in anticipation. it made you hesitate— he always knew when you were about to speak before you even opened your mouth. he had come to notice, and appreciate, little things about you like that.

"were you smoking with shoko?" you had asked him. he tilted his head, eyebrow cocked up as he made a face. "no, i wasn't. why d'ya ask?" he huffed, watching from the corner of his eye with mild disinterest as the basketball, still rolling from his previous goal, bumped into the wall. cocky as ever.

(he wouldn't even look you in the eye when you were being dead serious.)

you reach a hand into his jacket, fishing around for something in his pocket; that gets his attention. who knows what trinkets and candy wrappers he has in there? and he'd hate for you to send him to his yearly checkup early again; the nurses always try to coddle him, and he has half a mind to charge for battery. nevertheless, he almost mistakes what you pull out for a lollipop stick. but it's not— it's a cigarette; a white papery hit of cancer with a dead cherry. certainly not a wise idea to keep that in his pocket among the other very flammable wax wrappers and the occasional flower petal, but who were you to judge? you, who's lips pucker like they've just tasted lemon juice when he eyes the unlit cigarette, utterly unamused.

he knows that you know it's his; the subtle glistening of pink around the end points to the gloss on his lips; he can practically taste it on his tongue. he wonders if you'd put the cigarette to your mouth too if you could have a sample of his lipgloss; then again, you could always just ask for a lip-to-lip taste, and he'd indulge you without a second thought.

you twist the cigarette butt between your fingers so that he can see the remnants of faint strawberry pink on the edges. he just rolls his eyes with a loud huff, leaning his weight back on his heels and shoving his hands in his pant pockets.

"yeesh. you're such a goody two shoes, y'know? how come shoko's allowed to smoke 'n i'm not?" he drawls, an arrogant lilt to his voice as he sticks his lower lip out. you can see a matte spot where the gloss had been transferred to the cigarette paper. you just sigh exasperatedly (he feels like a kid when you do that) and lean forward, resting your elbows on your knees. his jacket bunches up in your lap.

you tap the cigarette to his chest a few times; it makes a soft thumping sound against the fabric, and for a moment he's grateful of the noise; it sounds just like the way his heartbeat picks up with each touch, but you don't hear it. he wonders if you ever will. maybe one day, when there isn't so much distance between you and he has the opportunity to tuck your head to his chest, right over his heart.

"it's not that i care about the lung damage, idiot. why were you smoking?" you asked, voice softening. and he absolutely hates when you do that, because it always pulls on his heartstrings and brings a flush to his face, the way you treat him. he thought that if you did it enough, he'd be sent to the doctor for heart palpitations instead of a sweet tooth.

he doesn't answer you at that. how could he tell you, when he knew all that'd result from it was a thorn in his side? you, being the rose. so beautiful but awfully prickly and unfairly sour like a lemondrop with a sweet inside. then again, he'd much rather have your interrogating care than lose you, like what had happened with the reason he was trying out smoking in the first place.

then, it happened— your voice went unbearably soft, like puffy white covers and featherlight pillows with silk covers on a saturday morning, looking out the window to see pink tulips against a cloudy blue sky as the sun streamed in. it almost made him want to clutch your hand over his chest and see if you could feel the way he was reacting. no doubt, it was filled with such patient tenderness; all-encompassing sweetness it made him want to cry. so he coughed to cover it up, averting his gaze and bringing one hand to his face to absentmindedly smooth down the strands of damp white hair hanging over his eyes.

"thinkin' about suguru again, are you?" you asked gently, tucking the cigarette back into your pocket—yours, not his—and reaching out to take his hand.

his lips parted ever so slightly, gaping like a goldfish. he knew he looked silly, and he should've been okay with that— because being vulnerable with you, out of everyone he ever knew (with maybe the exception of one) was easier than breathing; came more naturally to him than his gravitation to a challenge. the same could be said for sweets.

(maybe he'd have to re-evaluate his proclaimed taste, then. since you were more sour than sweet.)

but this time, he wasn't okay with it. it had been hard to talk about what had happened with suguru one year ago since— it formed a nasty lump in his throat, bitter like black coffee and the wrong mix of herbs. it made him feel weak. reminding him of his shortcomings, which, in his mind, shouldn't even exist in the first place. but you never had a problem ripping his problems from the shielded cavity in his gut, bringing them under the operator's light to dissect and solve like a surgeon. forget about forcing him to the doctor's— at this point, you should be the one in the white coat, not shoko. he thinks about what you'd look like with blue gloves on your delicate fingers for a moment too long.

"what's it to you?" he snaps back after what feels like three years of his life. his fingers tighten around yours for a moment before he pulls his hand away abruptly.

the frown that lingered on your face from then on had been burned into his memory.

and, well, that was his mistake. it spiraled from there— because he knew what it was to you, and he hated that. hated that you could see straight through him like a cloud blue stained glass window; without rose colored lenses like the ones he always wore (the ones he rocked, he thinks).

a crack of thunder overhead jolts him from his thoughts; he couldn't even get in there to dust the spiderwebs away before being jerked back into reality. he clicks his tongue in disappointment, watching as the skies pry themselves open and rain begin to fall in the way it only did over heavy summer showers. he wishes the sky would stop its weeping, but even the strongest has his limitations.

but it doesn't matter. he has one of those cheap plastic umbrellas he'd bought from a convenience store one day in a late march many moons ago, during the brightest blue spring of his life. and so, he didn't understand why he was lingering at the door, swinging the umbrella around his fingers by the hook on the handle, watching as the rain fell with increased fervor. there was no plastic button to keep the folds tied up, so it floundered around with each swing like a tulip bent by monsoon winds. maybe on the coast of some faraway land with windmills and fields of flowers. he wonders if he'll ever get to see the world with you someday— a fleeting thought that crumbles instantly when he conjures your pretty face in his vision, clear yet distorted like a reflection on a glazed pond, rippling water from the dragonflies that skipped over the surface.

you were definitely still angry with him, because you hadn't showed— normally, you'd walk home together. sometimes with shoko, if she didn't leave early. angry words echo in his mind, the image of your downturned lips swimming in his bright vision as he watches the rain streak down the window panes by the lockers. there's a fog settling over the grass outside that's sure to leave dew after the storm. he wonders when that'll be.

"why can't you ever take me seriously? can't you see i'm worried about you?"

"of course i can. but i don't need your damn concern!”

...

he'd been sorely mistaken, that was for sure. loosing his cool and snapping at you wasn't exactly something he took pleasure in, either way. he leans back on his heels, tapping his foot impatiently as he holds the umbrella like a cane against the floor. infinity could probably do away with the rain. another reason as to why he's not even sure why he's waiting here, or why he's holding an umbrella. perhaps to keep in case he has to offer it to some poor, shivering and cowering young maiden lost beneath the shading of a bus stop behind a curtain of rain droplets, with a charming grin and a wink.

maybe.

a shuffle behind him catches his ear; he turns his head, an unamused expression on his face as his eyes drift over the empty room to land on you. the shadows beneath your eyes are prominent, and your hair is unkempt. there are sleep lines on your face; you probably fell asleep in a classroom somewhere, which is why you delayed.

it was evident you weren't expecting to see him, though— with the way your eyes widened a little before they dropped again, nose bridge wrinkling slightly as if you'd caught the scent of something unpleasant. your eyes left his, and he felt a little disappointed as he watched them wander toward the window, where the current downpour was prominent. he didn't like the way it made his chest pang when your attention was anywhere but him, so he raised his hand lazily, tilting his head to catch your attention that he so clearly craved.

"yo. got an umbrella?" he calls, tapping the tip of his budget cane on the floor. the thud is the only sound for a while as your gaze wanders back over to him; reluctant.

"no, i don't. i didn't expect it to rain so hard today." you responded quietly, stepping over to him with a small sigh. almost a little resigned, he thinks. he can't be sure, though. he never is with you. doesn't know whether to expect his candy to be sour in the center or the other way around; but maybe he likes a bit of uncertainty every once in a while. (not with you, though. if it means arguing? never with you.)

his sunglasses are hooked around the collar of your shirt. he doesn't know why it takes him so long to realize, but when he does, he has to clear his throat in an effort to hide the heat on his face and do away with the blush. "here. take mine. i don't need it," he says curtly, offering his umbrella to you. he wants to snatch the shades from your shirt, but he doesn't want anything to go wrong, so he just eyes them warily, careful not to let his gaze slip past into anything you'd be pissed at him for.

you eye him, eyes narrowed as you raise an eyebrow, but you don't protest. your fingers brush against his for a brief moment when you take it, shaking it a little before opening the door and stepping outside, opening it up. it looks like a little clear plastic mushroom cap over your head; you're short enough to constitute as the stalk in his eyes. it's a little funny, but he has to stifle the laugh bubbling on his tongue lest you think he's making a mock of you.

he follows after you, slipping past to stand at your side with his hands in his pockets. you can't help but feel a little curious despite your prolonged anger (you like holding grudges, he knows), so you sneak a glance upward to satiate your wonder. you don't expect him to look as breathtaking as he does.

the clouds are light overhead; they're not a heavy blanket of gray anymore, and a small strip of light manages to push through, shining on satoru's pale white hair. you can make out the edge of his undercut against his neck when the wind picks up a little, the color of fluffy white clouds on a lavender sunset with the sway of yellow flowers beneath an expanse of a bright sky. there's a little cat hair on the collar of his jacket; you realize with a faint flush that it must've been from when you were holding his jacket for him in the gym. somehow, the cat you have at home found its way to satoru. you hope your pet has become a matchmaking fortune teller, for the sake of your happiness.

what catches your eye the most, though, isn't the cat hair on his dark jacket or the faraway look in his misty blue eyes; it's the outline of rain water around him, a product of his infinity, you realize. he's dry underneath the downpour, and it never ceases to amaze you. it's like there's a soft glowing halo against the backdrop of tangled wires, gray walls and pale green bushes— he looks like an angel boy, school bag hooked and hanging over one shoulder.

eventually, you manage to peel your gaze away, and he notices— looks down at you, pressing his lips together and running his tongue over them. he can taste strawberry gloss.

wordlessly, you start walking. and he follows suit, rain bouncing off of him; you catch yourself sneaking glances from under the roof of your clear umbrella between raindrops that slide down the clear plastic. sometime during the walk home, he had gone off and gotten himself a drink from a nearby vending machine— the red can catches your eye, and your fingers curl around the rubber handle of the lent umbrella as you watch him drink; the bob of his adam's apple before he crushes the can up and tosses it into a nearby bush, causing a brief scattering of leaves and a downpour of collecting droplets onto the pavement.

despite the rain, the weeds between the cracks in the sidewalk still stay strong; they have deep roots. much like the way you never fail to scowl at him for littering. he catches it— of course he does. he's been praying for a sign you're not still so hopelessly angry with him that you can't even bring yourself to have a civil walk in the summer rain together. after the scowl, though, comes the smile— the one that always makes him melt in his shoes, much like the sunshine after the rain.

and there it is at last, he thinks. the hard sour coating melts away on his tongue, draining the taste of lemon to reveal a sweet, genuine center. all it takes is time. your lips curve up, and you duck your head, hiding the small bemused laugh that leaves you breathless.

"what are you laughin' at?" he huffs, glaring down at you. but there's no malice behind it— if only you could feel the wave of relief that's washed over him, a crest of white foam that leaves behind still waters reflected in the pools of sapphire in his eyes. nothing like the hit of numbing nicotine he'd shared in the shade of an alleyway with shoko earlier that day— away from the sun; away from you. hidden from both. or maybe they were the same— to him, he couldn't differentiate.

"i'm not laughing!" you protested weakly, immediately wiping the grin from your lips, and he regrets speaking up. "just.. i dunno."

you walk in silence for a little longer, content to listen to the rain lighten up overhead. satoru kicks a plastic onigiri wrapper out of the way, splashing up a puddle as a frown dampens his face when the wrapping only clings to his shoes. he's fine with getting a little grumpy if it means seeing you smile again. and even better, you laugh again— so sweet, like the chiming of bells in the wind's melody.

"please don't do that again." your voice sounds so very small when he hears it again, and he looks down at you from beneath long white lashes, the corner of his lips quirked up. the shape of them is almost cat-like, you think. he doesn't even know what you're talking about— a vague idea, at best— but he won't do it. not if it means hearing you sound so pathetically... sad. he doesn't like it. it's far too bitter for his taste. let the black betta you both used to know indulge in dark coffee and bitter cologne— satoru likes things sweet, like the cream surrounded by tea leaf matcha in the center of his mochi and fluttering feeling he gets when you run your hands through his hair, fluffing it up to your heart's content.

(as long as your heart is happy, his is, too.)

"i won't. happy now?" he sticks his tongue out, making a face. but you both know he means it— he hates breaking his promises to you. you smile when you look up at him again with a small nod, and he feels his knees wobble a little. he just hopes you don't notice. "sorry for lying. i just.. don't like it when you're mad at me. and you look at me like that," he mumbles under his breath, bunching up the fabric of his pants between his fingers. then, after a moment, "geez, you're so dramatic. quit carin' so much." he really hopes you don't stop, and it makes him feel like the world's biggest hypocrite. the strongest, but so weak for you.

"sorry, can't. the day you stop crushing your soda cans and littering is the day i'll stop caring, 'cus that won't be my satoru anymore." you tease. and he laughs, throwing his head back so you don't see the red that spreads across his cheeks, dusting his skin like powdered sugar on top of a strawberry crepe. he always wants to be your satoru, so he figures he'll keep littering. a few money fines here and there mean nothing to his undentable wallet, or the erratic beating of his heart, trapped against his ribcage in a feathery blooming of flowers he only gets from you and your pretty smile underneath the layer of lemony sourness.

you walk along the road for a little while longer. the rain has lightened, but it's still going— incessant, dripping from the leaves of trees and the knotted black wires overhead. he still has his infinity up, which means he can't pet the cat the two of you spot on your way back, but he's perfectly content to watch you do it. you scratch its chin, smiling at the way it purrs and nuzzles into your hand, and he wonders if he'd do the same if he was in its position.

he's lost in thought when you speak to him again, shoes splashing against murky puddles in the backdrop of a never-sleeping city; tokyo's bright skyline always makes your eyes go round with wonder. you say something, and he chuckles, warm and velvety. and then you realize what's been off with him this whole time— he doesn't have his shades on.

you slip them off the collar of your shirt, smoothing down the fabric before you reach over and attempt to nudge his arm. you don't think it'll work, because he still has his infinity up— and your sleeves are already getting spattered by rain that leaves darkened wet spots on the cotton. but to your amazement, your fingers make contact with his sleeve, and you watch in wonder as the rain actually falls— soaks into that little patch of wet fabric that you're able to feel on his arm. that he's turned his infinity off in that one spot so you could touch him. you spare a glance up at him, only to find his head angled away from you. you might be hallucinating, but the tips of his ears seem red.

you don't linger on it before you're tugging on his shirt with a frown, getting him to look down at you as you unfold his glasses and offer them over to him. he takes them quickly, and you don't miss the way the rain stops falling onto his arm again, back to bouncing off the invisible shield that protects him from everything (but you, it seems). he slips his dark shades back over his eyes, obscuring oceans of pure blue that seem like they've trickled in from the purest snowcaps on the distant mountains dotted with old red tori gates and shrines with scrapped paint. but you can't stifle the smile that spreads across your lips this time— giddy and fresh and filled with youth, blossoming like sakura petals in a spring that seems so far away yet so close with his presence by your side.

you don't say anything for a while. you're content to watch the rain wash down the pavement and into the gutters, past cute little coffee shops and parks with ponds as the droplets from the sky scatter the water in part of a never-ending cycle; watering the surface of the earth and bringing life that would soon spring up as shroomcaps and fresh dew on the clean cut green grass. you wonder what satoru sees through his lenses— though, you already know. you've worn them plenty of times before, when he insists on having your perfume cling to the frame for long missions he's sent on alone, when he can't have you hold his jacket, or his hand, or scold him for sneaking a smoke when you're not watching. that, and the extra lemondrops he keeps in his pocket; gifts from you that he's fought hard for.

you're more prepared to not feel any interference of his infinity this time when you reach over, and this time you don't go for his sleeve—yanking him close to you by his hand and forcing him beneath your umbrella. you feel the way he freezes up for a moment, but his fingers fill in the gaps between your own like its the most natural thing in the world, palms pressed together in a little breathless hug that leaves no room for the humid air.

"don't waste your infinity on the rain, dumbass. you'll fry what little is left of your brain." you scold him, and he just grumbles and scoffs angrily under his breath, cursing you as he hunches over and ducks his head to fit under the umbrella to negate his height. his hair brushes against the plastic roof of the umbrella, and his lanky limbs are still awkwardly sticking out, but his fingers tighten around yours and his thumb rubs over your knuckles, still a little damp from your earlier encounter with the rain, and you can't help but smile a smile bright enough to wash away every last bit of cloud in the sky. his personal sunshine.

even though he still prefers sweet things, satoru's come to like the taste of lemondrops. sweet and sour go well together, after all. just like you and him.

its okay if it doesnt taste like anything to u as long as u enjoyed it :) thanks for reading !! the black betta in question is suguru btw my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !

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astonmartinii · 10 months

Note

hi!! i really love your blog: i usually stay silent and only like the posts but i thought today should be the day i request something!

would you be open to write a social media au with lando Norris x y/n where the reader is a marine biologist? or a surfer? or something ocean-related lmao

feel free to disregard this request if you don’t like it or don’t have time!! xx

just add water | lando norris social media au

pairing: lando norris x fem reader

first fish ruined his appetite, now they steal his girlfriend?

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 103,451 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: perks of the job but back on shore i clock in to my full time job of missing lando

view all comments

user1: can we have the hair routine cause miss ma'am is in the sea every damn day and her hair is still healthier than mine

user2: REAL

landonorris: f1 is just my day job, talking about you is my passion and career

yourusername: babe even the whales in monterey bay know about you

landonorris: they better be mclaren fans

yourusername: eh i think i heard super max (whale edition) the other day

maxverstappen1: conquered all of f1 and the seven seas so real of me

landonorris: THEY DON'T KNOW WHAT THEY'RE SAYING THE RISING OCEAN TEMPERATURES ARE FRYING THEIR BRAINS

yourusername: babe don't joke about that :(

landonorris: sorry :(

oscarpiastri: can you please come to the next race i may put my head through a wall if i have to watch this man go through his camera roll again RETELLING me all of the stories

yourusername: didn't realise we were so annoying 🧐

oscarpiastri: don't get me wrong you guys are cute but sometimes i wanna nap after practice in peace and not hear about whale shit

landonorris: i SEE HOW IT IS

alexalbon: no oscar is right i've heard about when had a baby seal on her surfboard about seven billion times

yourusername: HEY that was cute

user3: okay but lando could talk to ME about y/n's adventures

user4: i want to hear ALL of it for real

user5: lando and y/n podcast when?

alexalbon: do not give them ideas they’re already number one and two yappers in the international waffling championship

yourusername: yapper and proud 😤

landonorris: healthy relationship communications and boundaries? no. yappers? yes!

alexalbon: has anyone ever told you guys you’re annoying?

yourusername: yes 😃

user6: they’re so annoying i love them

landonorris

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,209,451 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: does this girl own a pair of trousers? real question.

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user8: i actually don't think i've ever seen a man this down bad

user9: ALL men should aspire to be this whipped

yourusername: i wish you would join the no trouser revolution, give the girlies something to look at

user10: i agree

yourusername: okay back up babe that ass is all mine

landonorris: it's okay babe you can admire your (my) ass all the time if you come home PLS

yourusername: sorry babe the ocean doesn't sleep and the whales need me

landonorris: but i need you too :(

maxverstappen1: WAH WAH I'M SICK OF YOUR FUCKING WHINING

alexalbon: THANK YOU FINALLY

landonorris: erm why am i being victimised in my own comment section

maxverstappen1: you are doing my fucking nut in mate yeha i get you miss her but kinda your fault for having a cool gf with a cool job

yourusername: omg thanks 😊

landonorris: Y/N???

yourusername: babe no offence but he's a three time world champ i'm gonna take the compliment

landonorris: i guess so :(

user10: just one normal comment section, please that is all i ask for

oscarpiastri: maybe i should get on this whole j.peg business cause my photography is doing some heavy lifting here

yourusername: i didn't take you for a stunt queen miss rookie

landonorris: where is the peace, love and positivity ?? you guys are such haters

oscarpiastri: proudly

yourusername: no cool shells for you mr piastri

oscarpiastri: I TAKE IT BACK

landonorris: you people are such flip flops

yourusername

liked by georgerussell63, landonorris and 112,872 others

yourusername: i promise we do actually do work

view all comments

user14: why am i now considering a marine biology degree for a sick ass instagram feed

user15: and protecting the sanctity of ocean life?

user14: yeah sure throw that in there too?

landonorris: i hope you slapped the FUCK out of that stingray for steve irwin

yourusername: babe we all know violence is not the answer

landonorris: you said you'd break the knee caps of any driver that took me out?

yourusername: i do not recall this

landonorris: steve irwin is a national treasure, you should've done it for oscar

oscarpiastri: i'm sure it wasn't that exact stingray mate

landonorris: you don't know that

danielricciardo: i see you've forgotten about the other aussie you were teammates with ???

yourusername: i wouldn't have that if i were you daniel

landonorris: y/n??? you're meant to be on my side

yourusername: say sorry to larry and maybe i'll gang up on daniel with you

danielricciardo: Y/N???

landonorris: i'm sorry larry ... and daniel i guess ?

danielricciardo: if my hand weren't broken right now...

user16: okay i think lando is having y/n withdrawals

yourusername: his bitchiness is a symptom of separation anxiety

landonorris: sorry not sorry

user17: mclaren pr praying for y/n to come to a race soon

maxverstappen1: p says pretty please can she bagsy the pink shells?

yourusername: most definitely she can !! i'll even be on the look out for more

maxverstappen1: thank you y/n you're my favourite - p

yourusername: that's it i'm coming home rn

landonorris: am i a joke to you?

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 1,322,099 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: reunited and it feels so good oh and a double podium, pretty sweet

view all comments

user21: obsessed with how lando said that y/n is clearly his lucky charm and the "dumbass" ocean won't be getting his girlfriend back

user22: there's levels to hating and lando's level of hating on the ocean??

user23: his hatred of fish makes so much more sense right now

user24: either he hates anything to do with the ocean or y/n convinced him they deserve to live 😭

landonorris: i'll say it's number one but realistically it's two greatly helped by the fact that it tastes gross anyway

yourusername: I'M SO FUCKING PROUD OF YOU

landonorris: i know hhehehehehehehe

yourusername: i love you stupid

landonorris: i love you too dummy

yourusername: as much as i enjoyed this race i am ready for home time (after karaoke, you promised me karaoke with yuki)

landonorris: AHAHAHAAH TAKE THAT OCEAN Y/N COMING HOME

alexalbon: bro has beef with the ocean 😭

georgerussell63: bro had to share his gf with WATER 😭

maxverstappen1: bro is being ... torn apart here KEEP GOING LOL

oscarpiastri: no keep going cause i just want a nap before debrief and some people are being WAY TOO LOUD

carlossainz55: i think that's probably why you guys are getting away with bullying the little goblin

user25: oscar out here just confirming that lando and y/n are ... for lack of a better word up to no good?

user26: y/n didn't lie when she called him a stunt queen

landonorris: i can't hear y'all LALALALALALA

yourusername: they hate us because they ain't us

landonorris: period 💅

user27: i hate (love) them your honour

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 419,034 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: so he had the whole proposal planned out but got a bit too excited at suzuka ... if anyone asks we got engaged on a boat in the mediterranean not in his driver's room. aside from that, HOLY FUCK I AM ENGAGED TO THE LOVE OF MY LIFE I LOVE YOU LANDO I CAN'T WAIT FOR FOREVER

view all comments

user30: HOLY 😭 FUCKING 😭 SHIT 😭

landonorris: can we agree on no more like three month placements pretty please?

yourusername: baby the whales need me

landonorris: i need you more FIANCE :(

yourusername: gosh you are convincing, no more retreats for more than a month

landonorris: yay !!

yourusername: you need to put up more shelves for our shells though

landonorris: on it, i love you (i'm calling my dad to do it)

yourusername: i love you too baby

danielricciardo: enchante tease on the engagement post and for free ??? love you two

yourusername: at least you have the prettiest model ever for it

landonorris: I'M BLUSHING

danielricciardo: i'll deal with this because i'm happy for you two

mclarenf1: double podium and an engagement, suzuka really delivered this year

oscarpiastri: i guess i take back my comments about being loud in the drivers room... i'm so happy for you guys you deserve it

landonorris: ahaha i knew you were a softy really pastry boy

yourusername: i always knew you loved us really oscar, you're just sassy and we respect that

landonorris: .... sure

maxverstappen1: did he propose at sea in one final power move over his arch nemesis the ocean?

yourusername: have you considered he did it at sea because i'm a marine biologist and i love it out there and he loves me?

maxverstappen1: well now i look like an asshole

landonorris: the sea 0 - 1 lando

yourusername: lando 😭

user31: well this has all been a rollercoaster

fin.

note: i've been kinda mia on here and i'm super sorry this request has taken so long lol. wanted to get this out now though cause lando had a horrid day today but i'm glad he's okay !! enjoy, i'm in my second week of a job so might get less busy xx

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #f1 social media au #lando norris insta au #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris

2K notes · View notes

anthotneystark · 3 months

Text

Wanna change my clothes, my hair, my face

(Also on AO3 now!)

It doesn’t happen suddenly.

Or, it does, but it’s a long time coming.

It’s a long time coming because it’s been coming his whole life. It’s been coming since the first time someone looked at him and said “it’s a good thing you’re pretty”. It’s been coming since the first time he heard someone say “beauty over brains”. It’s been coming since he was old enough to know that his dad was already planning on having to make connections to get him into a school of his choosing. He’s always known his book smarts were lacking, but it always hurt when he was reminded of it.

But it’s been more recent than that too.

It’s been coming since he felt that slick tail wrap around his neck. It’s been coming since Robin helped to change the bandages on his back. It’s been coming since the first date after everything ended with him going to bed alone because “I’m just not in the mood anymore” followed him pulling off his shirt.

It’s been coming since forever.

His looks have been his biggest asset his entire life, the only thing he could really use to get attention. And now there’s scratches in the paint.

After everything, when they’re finally safe, everything changes.

He doesn’t change, or he doesn’t think he does, because his habits are the same and his thoughts are the same and his nightmares are the same. But life slows down. And with it slowing down, he changes anyway.

Where once he was all lean, taut muscle, he softens. It’s still there, his daily runs and exercise are proof of that, but it’s a little more insulated.

(Robin tells him it’s because he’s been living with the stress of monsters for years, that feeling safe has pushed his body out of survival mode.)

It’s been coming though. With each comment from his mother about how he’s clearly eating too much junk food. With his father’s comments about how long his hair has gotten. With how girls’ eyes just skim right over him and move on.

It’s not all bad, of course. The kids, surprisingly, don’t comment beyond their usual teasing over things within his control – “stripes again? Don’t you have any other patterns?” or “why do you have to wear those shorts while you’re cleaning the pool?” which is usually followed by Eddie smacking whoever said it. Max makes exactly one comment, quietly, when it’s just the two of them still awake during a movie night.

“You’re a better pillow these days.”

Maybe it’s a joke, maybe she’s just being nicer with her teasing, but whatever her reasoning he likes it. When he thinks about it like that, being different doesn’t feel like a bad thing.

It doesn’t usually last long though.

So it’s not a sudden thing, until it is.

He’s not even totally sure what causes it. Some comment, sure, but the words themselves are in one ear and out the other. His parents are leaving for another trip, his mother comments about eating healthier while they’re gone, his father makes some dig that’ll lodge under his skin with all the other barbs he’s thrown at him for all these years.

All he really remembers is that a comment is made. The rush of heat and sour bile in his throat. The door shuts and all he can hear are overlapping echoes of all the comments that have ever been thrown at him. All he can feel is the tightness of the tee shirt he’s wearing the weight that no longer rests on his shoulders, but which is spread over his entire body. He finds himself looking into a mirror and suddenly cannot look at that any longer.

His hands shake and he doesn’t trust himself, but he knows where he can go.

It should scare him that he doesn’t remember the drive. It should scare him that he’s here but doesn’t fully know how he got here. But he doesn’t have room for more panic in his head. They’re past the point of knocking, of waiting to be let in, so pushing through the doorway of the trailer is a familiar motion. Eddie looking up and smiling where he’s strumming his guitar is a familiar sight.

The way his smile faulters and turns into a frown is less familiar.

“Stevie? What’s wrong?” He feels like he can’t breath, can’t possibly explain everything in his head, but he can’t just expect Eddie to read his mind. He’s not Robin after all.

“I need it gone. Off. I can’t…I can’t,” he manages, one shaking hand sliding into his hair and tugging, the pain grounding for just a moment. Eddie might not be able to read his mind, but he understands him these days more than most people. It’s an unlikely friendship founded in terror and fortified by countless hours in hospital rooms and new homes.

“Oh sweetheart. Are you sure?” He knows it’s extreme, but he can’t help what he needs, even if Eddie is concerned. He nods, swallowing hard. Eddie doesn’t try to talk him out of it, just pulls him to the bathroom and sits him on the edge of the tub.

“Lets start small, okay? And we can go as far as you need from there.” He wants to argue, but at the same time he knows it’s reasonable. And it’s Eddie. He trusts Eddie. He can’t make any words come out, but he manages a little nod. Eddie, doing what he does best, just starts talking. He’s not really paying attention to the words, but he doesn’t have to. He can feel the chill of the metal scissors, the soft rumble of Eddie’s voice, the too gentle fingers pushing and pulling him into whatever position is best. Eddie pauses now and again, a question in his eyes, but continues on when he sees whatever he’s looking for still lingering.

It's not until Steve feels his shoulders slumping, his hands loosening where they’re clenched at his knees, the chill of the breeze from the open window hitting skin that no longer feels boiling hot, that Eddie sets down the scissors. He feels lighter, doesn’t even care about the itchy feeling of stray hairs clinging to his clothes and skin.

When he finally looks in the mirror, his hair is shorter than it’s been in years. It’s not gone, not buzzed off, but it’s not the same as it was.

Neither is he though.

Eddie’s giving him a knowing look, one that says he’s got something to say but is holding off.

The cut itself is a little rough, but in a good way. It’s clearly not a professional sort of thing; he likes it more because of it.

“Thank you,” he whispers, exhaustion and relief hitting him in equal measures.

“You know, when I buzzed my hair, there were a lot of rumors,” Eddie says softly. “Stuff about my dad punishing me, about looking too girly before, that sort of thing. But really, it was just…so much going on all at once. My dad had just gotten arrested, mom took off, Uncle Wayne was stressed over having another mouth to feed. I felt like I couldn’t breath and just-” he makes a buzzing noise and mimes shaving through the mop of dark hair, which he’s got tied back today now that Steve can actually see it.

“Just had to get it off?” he asks.

“Yep. Needed it gone. Growing it back was a pain, but it was good too. Felt like a fresh start even if it was a little like trying to get back to where I used to be,” Eddie explains. It makes sense, at least to Steve. “So, you know, I get it. But I also know you’d have another breakdown if we shaved it all off completely,” he jokes. It’s enough to drag a laugh out of him.

It’s very Eddie, baring his soul while he’s helping to bandage a lost sheep, and Steve wishes he had the words to say how grateful he is. Instead, he just takes the towel Eddie throws at him and the soft, well worn clothes Eddie sets on the counter. He showers, pulls on a shirt for a band he doesn’t recognize, and breathes out a sigh of relief when the vice around his body finally, finally, comes loose.

Eddie doesn’t wait long once he sits down on the couch, immediately flopping back to use his thighs as a pillow while he goes back to strumming along to the music in his head. It’s a quiet moment, a safe moment. He doesn’t even notice as his head drops back to rest on the cushions, his breathing slowing as he finally feels light enough to rest.

Later, he’ll wake up with their positions reversed, with Eddie playing with his hair in a way that’ll make his brain turn into mush. Later, he’ll gather the courage to finally stop toeing that line of friendship and more that he and Eddie have been dancing on for so long now. Later, Eddie will hear everything that’s been in his head and will hold him down while he kisses every last insecurity and promises that it’s only made him more obsessed with him.

Maybe that won’t fix the insecurities, but that doesn’t mean Eddie isn’t going to make it very clear just how happy he is loving Steve exactly as he is at every point in time.

Because it doesn’t happen suddenly.

Or, it does, but it’s a long time coming.

#kat writes #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #did I jam out to bruce on my way home from work and then get emotional about steve? yes yes I did #probably gonna put this on AO3 tomorrow but I don't have the energy tonight

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togament · 4 months

Text

" 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦. windbreaker boys edition. "

pt. 1. (sakura, ume, suo.) pt. 2. (hiragi, sugishita, kaji.)

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : none that i could think of?? fluff so soft you wanna punch a wall to feel hardcore again, kaji and his sleeping position, sugi and his sleeping position. hiragi's the normal one.

𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐈.

- he looks like he fell asleep upset at you with his arms crossed over his chest but that's just his normal sleeping position, y'know? he also wakes up in the same position. doesn't move a single centimeter at night. scared you a couple of times when you first got together. you told him about it and ume overhears you both and laughs. he's had a couple of sleepovers at hiragi's so he got scared a couple times too. - can only sleep on his side. great for you because you could stare at his sleeping form, maybe caress his cheek when he's falling asleep. loves it when you do that. but he wakes up with a stiff neck most mornings. you always come in clutch with salonpas patches and other treatments. loves it when you nag him while helping him out, strangely enough. - if you're not feeling too hot or on cold nights, he likes hugging you to sleep. he's totally good with you wrapping your arms around him too. loves having you close to him. - has a night light. can't sleep in total darkness. please don't tease him about it though. he's had a fear of darkness ever since he was a kid so it's a necessity. very endearing though. - has fallen asleep with his hair gelled up. multiple times. you nagged him about it once and ever since then, he's never slept with any gel in his hair. (his hair looks somewhat healthier when you're with him). - takes his vitamins before he sleeps. if you're the type to forget to take them, he shares his stash with you. it's his time to nag at you >:3 - snores. bad bad bad snorer. gets worse on days where he has to tail ume or after a rough fight. you sometimes stay up because of how loud he could be. he's a light sleeper too so if he feels you move away to another room, he stirs awake immediately feeling guilty. he coaxes you to go back to sleep. he then researches extensively the next day on how to stop snoring so loudly. - give him little butterfly kisses to wake him up and he'd wake up smiling. please give this stressed man some grace. protect and love him please.

𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐀.

- SOMEONE CALL 911 OH MY GOD OHMYGO--oh sugi's just sleeping. he sleeps on his belly, head facing the side. he's another stiff neck sufferer because of thaaaat :( when will they ever learn? - you think it's because he can't fall asleep in any other position but in actuality, it's just so he won't mess his hair up. so you do him a favor. you buy him a silk pillow case and as soon as you hand it to him, you swear his eyes light up. first time you've seen him so happy. he immediately puts it on his pillow that night and sends you a photo with a thumbs up emoji. you know he won't be waking up with an aching neck the next morning. (he doesn't!!!!! yay!!!!!) - hates hates HATES being woken up. has a bunch of broken alarm clocks in a box under his bed because he throws them at his wardrobe when he's half asleep. (it's canon btw!) - doesn't fix his bed when he wakes up in the morning. leaves his blankets in the same state he left them in. rarely ever washes his sheets and pillow cases........ - sometimes forgets you're sleeping with him. so if he feels you press up against him or shift, he jolts awake. looks at you with bewildered eyes then immediately remembers. pulls you in his arms, whispering a small "sorry" before you both fall back asleep. - he has an extensive hair routine before he falls asleep. it's kinda amazing. please don't tell the others. please don't tell sakura. - he loves weekends where he could sleep in and not have an alarm to break ringing incessantly. he'd sleep for an entire day if he could, really.

𝐊𝐀𝐉𝐈.

- google "peter griffin death pose" and kaji sleeping would pop up. try it. - moves way too much before he sleeps -- it's kinda annoying. goes through 85 different sleeping positions before he settles on one. if you're the type to fall asleep in one position (me tbh) you're gonna have a hell of a time with kaji (jk you decide to sleep on the couch for the night. he gets real upset though). but if you move a lot like him? be prepared to argue over the duvet and pillows. - when he eventually falls asleep though, he still moves. a lot. always finds himself in weird positions. blanket's already on the floor, pillow that was behind his head's now by his feet. he groans about his body aching every morning. gee. i wonder why. - he doesn't sleep talk. he sleep WHIMPERS. take my hand. walk with me here, babe. he has his eyebrows furrowed when he sleeps, you still with me? then he's moving a little, shifting in his sleep. then a soft whimper leaves his plump lips. your eyes widen. sitting up, you look over at him. another whimper. then, here's the kicker, he whimpers your name. still asleep, he reaches over to your side and you still. he's pulling you close. (you don't fall asleep that night. too aroused at how he sounds good whimpering. you're already thinking of ways to make him whimper for you.) see the vision? hope you do. - can't sleep without music playing in the background. sorry, quiet sleepers. your man falls asleep to stuff ranging from sunami and zulu to balming tiger and dpr live. uses his liked songs on spotify too so you know he's atrocious with that shit. falls asleep to all genre of music. - has cold feet. COLD. FEET. he presses them onto you when you're trying to fall asleep. he thinks it's funny. until you do the same to him. he hasn't done it since. - sleeps in band shirts. when you're sleeping over, he lets you wear some of them. (kinda gets off on the fact you're wearing his clothes. also kinda gets off on the scent you left on his bed when you leave. creep ((said affectionately.))) - when he's having a rough day, he can't sleep when he's alone. you find him texting you at ungodly hours of the night sometimes, asking you to come over. and you do. always. you fall asleep in his arms on those nights. he never lets you go, doesn't even move or change positions. if you're a couple, you can feel him pressing kisses along your hairline when you're falling asleep. if he can't say he's grateful you're around for him, least he could do it with his actions. (he loves you way too much for him to properly process it).

a/n: and here you can read the exact moment i fell for kaji HAHHAHASHDHASDHJAS SEND HELP. actually. forget it. did i say i was gonna clown him? what? me? ha ha. clown my new husband in my roster that i love so dearly? noooo. part 3 coming soon!!!! TOGAME SLEEPINGggggGgG!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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