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henry7931 · 9 months ago

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Babe It’s Okay, I’m Bi

James:

This beautiful man right here is my girlfriend Chloe. It’s a very weird situation so let me explain, a couple weeks ago Chloe was in some strange science experiment accident that caused her to swap bodies with this guy named Derek.

And from what information we’ve collected this may be a permanent situation. As you can imagine she’s been pretty upset the last couple of weeks. And I’ve been trying to be the best to support her while she figures everything out.

It’s been a challenge for the both of us especially since we just moved in together a couple of months ago. We’ve been dating for a while but I think we’re at a point where I’ve been thinking about proposing which this just messed everything up. Well not completely I guess…

I have been holding on to a secret from her for years now and I don’t know how to say it. Not that I ever thought it really mattered until now.

The truth is really don’t care if she swaps back to her old body, I love her. Okay let just say it, I am sexually attracted to girls but I also like dudes. Specifically dudes like the body she’s in.

She or he is so freaking handsome! He’s tall, tan skin, has this really sexy stash, and I can’t get over his tattoos. So hot!

But I’ve been trying to walk a very careful line with him. And we still low key flirt all the time but I can see his hesitation.

Which makes me sad, I just wish I can tell him without hurting his feelings.

On the flip side, it would so help since every time he asks me something about being a guy I get extremely turned on. Like why are his balls itchy from time to time, why is it easier to pee standing up, and the boners!

I don’t know if he even notices but he’ll walk around with a hard on in our apartment and it’s everything in me not to reach out and dig into his briefs.

Which makes me wonder, when the hell does he jerk off? I know he’s been staying busy lately, I’m just curious how he makes the time.

He’s been hitting up the gym a lot and when comes home. He’ll kick off his smelly shoes, workout clothes, and walk around sweaty in nothing but his undies. Which I can’t help but stare.

And the hardest part is at night, we still sleep in the same bed.

It’s my favorite part because he will cuddle with me in his sleep. I don’t think he even notices that I let him. But every night I’ll something poking my back and then his arm will wrap around me. He’ll start humping me in his sleep from time to time.

But I need to get this off of my chest. This is probably going to be permanent and I desperately want my relationship back!

So tonight I’m going for it. I’m going to let him know that I’m into him.

That Night:

I get off of work around 6 and the second I walk through the door I hear a light moaning coming from another room.

I walk to the outside of the door and peak inside.

That’s when I see Chloe stroking it on our bed with his headphones in. I don’t think he can hear me.

I hear his voice, “James..” so softly…

Fuck, he’s jerking to pics of me.

“James… baby I want you so bad…”

I start unbuttoning my shirt and I kick off my shoes ready to jump in any second.

“Holy shit! James!”

All of the sudden Chloe grabs a pillow and covers his massive boner.

I grin at him and say, “You don’t need your cover yourself I was enjoying the show babe.”

“Oh shut up you’re just saying that!”

“No, I mean it,” I say walking over and unbuckling my pants.

“Babe, you don’t have to pretend for me. I know this isn’t ideal but—“

I immediately grab the pillow and pull it away. His dick is fully exposed and he has this shocked look on his face.

Before he can react, I grab his junk and say, “does this look like I’m pretending?”

“But… but… I’m a guy!”

I start fondling his junk just lightly tickling his balls.

“Yeah and I haven’t been honest with you,” I say leaning in to his face.

“Yeah?” he says to me softly.

“I don’t really care what body you’re in, I’m attracted to you. And sides, you wouldn’t be the first guy I’ve been with.”

“What the hell James!”

I start rubbing his cockhead and he lets out a yelp noise.

“Can we talk about this later? I’ve been waiting to do this with you for a minute now,” I say right before kissing his neck.

“Oh my! James that feels so damn good.”

I kiss down his neck until I get to his nipples.

I twist one of them which makes his eyes roll back into his head.

I kiss down his chest to his happy trail until I’m at his thighs.

“God you have the nicest dick,” I say to him.

He grins, “thanks I think I like it too.”

“Well I think you’re going to like it more after this.”

“Huh?”

I wrap my lips around his dick giving it a very sloppy kiss. I begin to take down my throat which causes him to moan even louder.

“Holy shit yeah I love having a dick!!” he lets out.

I stop for a sec to let out a giggle.

“You know this is going to change everything for our sex life right?”

“What do you mean?” He says confused.

“Well, I’m vers but we don’t know if you’re a top or bottom yet,” I say grinning.

His eyes get wide, “I mean I’m open to anything but will it hurt?”

“A little at first but we don’t have to try right now,” I say back.

I look over his fully naked lower half, it’s the first time I’ve gotten to see it this close.

I rub his thighs down to his feet. I look up at him and say, “hey can I do something?”

“Sure babe as long as you go back to sucking this,” he says holding out his hard cock.

I lift up his feet and bring them to my face. I take deep breath before inhaling them.

“Are you kidding me?!? You’re not just bi but have a foot fetish?”

“Well I wouldn’t go that far, you just have some sexy toes,” I say kissing them.

“Yeah they are nice I guess, even for a boy.”

I pull off my pants and boxers, we’re both naked now.

“Oh I’ve missed your dick babe!”

“Aw thanks!”

“Can I touch it?” he says reach out.

“I would love nothing more”

I feel his hands touching all over my junk. It feels so good. Thats when I got another idea.

“Hey since we both have dicks now? What if we 69?”

“I’m not opposed!”

Chlo gets on top of me and starts to lower his crotch towards my face. I can feel his lips touch my dick. That’s when I feel his mustache which makes he squirm at bit.

It takes us a second before we have a full rhythm down. I’m sucking and we start pacing faster before Chlo lifts his head.

“Oh my god! I’m about to cum!!”

And with very little warning, Chlo pushes his 10 inch dick down my throat and shoots so much cum out.

As he pulls out it’s dripping from my mouth. It takes a second to register but his cum tastes pretty good.

“That was amazing,” he says panting.

“Well I’m not done yet,” I say pointing at my eager boner.

“Well how a nice surprise for you.”

That’s when he does something I’d never expect. Chlo wipes a bunch of cum off my mouth and proceeds to rub it on the soles of his feet.

“Since you like them so much,” he says with a silly grin.

He takes both of his feet and wraps his toes around my dick.

He begins to move back and forth with them and it’s so hot that I can’t even take it.

His feet touch my dick for like 1 minute before I burst all over them.

I look at the cum covered toes and I can’t help myself from licking them clean.

I go grab us a couple of towels and walk back in to see my beautiful boyfriend laying in bed grinning.

“You wanna go somewhere for dinner?” I say to him.

“Nah let’s do take out, I’ll be ready for round 2 here soon,” he says patting at the bed for me to come back.

“Fuck, I love you!”

“I love you too, even if you forgot to mention the whole liking guys thing.”

“Well babe, what can I say? I’m bi.”

#body swap #male body swap #permanent tf #ftm tf

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slytherinshua · 8 months ago

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2AM CRISIS

genre. comfort. sickfic. warnings. reader is sick specifically throwing up so don't read if you find that rly gross... some comments abt it being reader's first time sleeping over and the hyungs being extremely cautious lmfao. not proofread. pairing. yujin x fem!reader. wc. 1k. request. requested by @theriizeler a/n. i hope this makes u feel better dodo :(( first time writing yujin i hope i did okay he's rly such a sweetheart :( ppl need to write more for him cause i get not writing for him cause of his age but he's always skipped over...

“Ew…” Yujin mumbled, crouched on the floor of the bathroom with you as you heaved again. For this being your first time sleeping over (with extremely watchful eyes from Hao and Hanbin), it definitely was not going as planned. You had felt something was wrong the entire day, but your boyfriend Yujin was so excited to spend the night with you that you didn’t have the heart to cancel on him.

You should have trusted your gut, though, because now you were throwing up in the toilet in painful gags, your throat burning and a disgusting acidic aftertaste left in your mouth. Was it something you had eaten? Or maybe you had caught a stomach bug at school… You envied your boyfriend for evading it, though you guess it made sense. He rarely attended because of his schedule.

“Stay right there.” Yujin whispered, getting up and leaving the bathroom to find some water for you.

He didn’t have much experience taking care of someone since he was usually the one always being pampered and babied. He tried his best to recall what his mom and Hao had done when he had gotten sick, but the memory was foggy as he had mostly just slept until he felt better. They did force him to take some horrible-tasting medicine, though… God, did he have to persuade you to do that as well? He’d rather just die than possibly give you an excuse to despise him.

Once he was back with a bottle of water, he handed it to you and sat back down on the floor of the bathroom. It was almost 2 am by now, and he wasn’t exactly sure what to do. He could see tears prickling at your lashes, and his absolute worst fear in the world was seeing you cry. He had no idea how he’d make the tears stop once they started.

You swished your mouth with the water and spat again into the toilet before taking a proper drink. The cool water soothed your burning throat, but it didn’t ease all the discomfort. You still felt like shit, and your stomach still hurt. Your head was also pounding, but it wasn’t as bad as the nausea.

You turned back to Yujin who’s eyes were blown big and confused, though you could tell he was worried about you. His under eyes looked tired and you suddenly felt really bad for waking him up to go puke in his bathroom. If you had been able to get up without disturbing him, then you would have. But he had fallen asleep clinging to you like a koala, and there was no way to escape his grasp without waking him up.

“I’m sorry… you should just go back to sleep.” You muttered, but Yujin was quick to shake his head.

“I can’t just leave you throwing up by yourself… I’ll stay until you’re ready to go back to bed.” He told you, stroking your hair gently. You tried to breathe steadily in hopes of stopping the urge to throw up again, but it didn’t work. You quickly pushed Yujin’s hand away from your face and discarded more of yesterday’s meal into the bowl. Both you and Yujin grimaced in sync, and he hesitantly pulled back your hair and stroked your back.

The tears that you had tried to keep at bay finally started to stream down your face. You hated everything about the situation. You felt awful, not just physically, but for ruining your first sleepover with Yujin like this. No one wanted to be sitting next to their girlfriend who couldn’t stop vomiting at 2 am.

“Don’t cry— please, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Yujin panicked. The only thing he could think of doing was offering you more water, which you took amidst broken sobs. He wrapped his arms around you hesitantly, knowing that he always calmed down in your arms. Maybe it would help you, as well. Your sobs slowed a bit, in turn slowing down Yujin’s anxiously beating heart.

“Hey, what if I just get you a bowl? You can keep it by the bed and then you won’t have to stay here on the floor, hm? We can cuddle too… if you want?” You would’ve smiled at how cute Yujin’s suggestion was if you weren’t too focused on calming yourself down. You knew he was trying his best, and while he was a bit slow on ways to help (you were pretty sure there were some pills to help with nausea that Hanbin had bought last time Gyuvin had felt nauseous during a shoot, but you were certain that your boyfriend had no idea where they were stored), his presence alone was enough to make things a little better.

“Yeah… let’s just do that.” You agreed, standing up slowly. You flushed the toilet and rinsed your mouth once more with water. While Yujin was getting a metal bowl for you, you brushed your teeth, relieved that your mouth no longer had the awful aftertaste of stomach acid.

Once you were back under the blankets on the mattresses that the older members had set up on the floor of the living room (which was almost too overkill as neither you nor Yujin would even think to attempt anything like that, protesting Hao’s carefully thought of set-up would’ve seemed even more suspicious), you felt your stomach ease a bit.

You curled up against Yujin’s chest, wanting nothing more than to be as close as possible to him. The soap and shampoo scents from his earlier shower lingered on his skin, and you were surprised at how effective it was in stopping your nausea and relaxing you. Your head was still pounding, but you’d take the pain over feeling sick. Maybe you would even be able to get some sleep again like this.

Your boyfriend kissed your forehead and started talking softly, trying to get you to fall asleep to the lull of his voice. It was extremely effective and you found yourself dozing off within minutes. You smiled when the last thing you heard Yujin say was a whispered “feel better soon, princess.”

↳ zerobaseone taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @okshu,, @chewryy,, @haecien,, @sobun1est,,

@emmylksblog,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @chenleszone

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teaboot · 9 months ago

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Forgive me if you’ve already answered something similar but how do you deal with crushing guilt when you did fuck up but there’s not really anything you can do to like make amends or you’ve already done anything you could and still feel guilty?

Like I know the guilt isn’t productive at all, if anything it’s just paralyzing me, and mentally beating myself up over it isn’t actually helping anyone. But I don’t know where to go from there. Idk how to actually forgive myself, or at least be able to move on

CW FOR SELF HARM

Okay, so this is something I've had to work through for a very long time myself, and there's a few different strategies that I've used to cope and process with varying levels of success.

What I used to do was handle the "I've ruined everything and hurt people and am never going to be forgiven" feeling by hurting myself in a number of creative and stupid ways, from physical hurt (Everything you'd expect) to mental hurt (wallowing, speaking badly of myself, going over the bad thing over and over again in my head) to passive hurt (neglecting my health, not eating properly, failing to pursue good living conditions, letting others hurt me, deliberately wandering into risky situations) and despite any short-term relief or peace I got, none of it ultimately fixed anything.

At the end of the day, making myself suffer as retribution or apology didn't fix the thing I'd done and didn't make the guilt go away, and all it gave me was an additional sense of shame and isolation because now not only was I a garbage person, I was a garbage person with something to hide from my loved ones. Zero out of ten, do not recommend.

The stuff that DID help was harder and is going to sound stupid because *I thought it was stupid* until it worked for me.

First: Learn the difference between GUILT and SHAME.

GUILT is how you feel about your choices.

SHAME is how you feel about yourself.

"I was late to a date again, that was inconsiderate": GUILT. The issue can be resolved by analyzing the reason behind the action and planning steps to avoid repeating it in the future. Guilt is productive because it motivates us to improve our choices. Once you've corrected the behaviour, it's over.

A"I was late to a date again, I'm inconsiderate": SHAME. The issue can be resolved by asking ourselves:

What negative thing to I believe about myself?

What other experiences support this belief? What evidence do I have that the bad thing is true?

Do those previous experiences have anything in common? Where they actually proof of a personal lack, or did someone just tell me they were? Were my choices and actions understandable? Did I have a reason? Was I trying to hurt others, or was it a mistake, accident, or learning experience? Have I grown from that experience?

Can I forgive myself for the past? What do I need to do to forgive myself for those past events? Was I really at fault at all, or was it out of my control?

Accept that.

Your present traumas and shames often have roots in beliefs you had about yourself before the new shameful thing occurred. When you dig into resolving the issues that led to today, you can use those conclusions to work through tomorrow. This is something I learned in cognitive behavioral therapy.

There are a number of ways of unpacking these questions, but as I felt I was deliberately avoiding my thoughts and feelings, I chose to jump into them directly, and found it to be effective.

You can write things down, talk to someone, paint something, draw something, whatever. Whatever at all works for you.

My solutions was to find a comfortable place on the floor, sit down, close my eyes, and do box-breathing (in for 4, hold for 4, out for 4, hold for 4) while deliberately thinking about every upsetting memory attached to a specific bad belief that I could recall until I had nothing left to go over.

Judge and jury. Was I a bad person, or did I make a mistake? Did I have malicious intentions, or did someone accuse me of malicious intentions? Am I bad, or have I been conditioned to believe I'm bad? And at the end of it all, am I capable of better? Do I want to be better? And would a truly bad person care?

It was more emotional than I expected the first few times. Cried a lot, actually. But if I can liken it to a common feeling, it was like getting out of a very thorough shower and realizing you didn't know how dirty you were before.

The process sucks ass, no lie, but it's worth it. Like draining pus from a gnarly wound to get it healed up properly.

I'm not an expert, of course, but life has gotten better since I started. I'm better at forgiving myself, at least.

Also: Some people will never forgive others even for tiny things. Sometimes once you've done your best, you've just gotta say "fuck 'em". C'est la vie, mon amie.

Good luck, yeah?

♡

#Self harm cw #Guilt and shame

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lucky-clover-gazette · 5 months ago

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okay i have THOUGHTS about this line

he didn’t have to say that to make his plan work. i mean yeah, being nice to the player definitely earns their favor and future assistance, but he could have just as easily gone the route of gaslighting them into feeling bad and like they caused the problem, eliciting a more shame-based and desperate and less uplifting and righteous kind of reliance. like if volo really hated the player, and was truly cruel, that’s what he would have done. the player would have still gotten the chain and felt indebted to him for the plate hunt, but they also would be miserable and feel lonely and hurt and confused. but volo doesn’t do that, he grounds the player and validates their feelings, which were hurt by the cruel townspeople more than the event volo caused to prompt that cruelty. like truly, it’s only volo’s fault that the player gets banished through the most like simple calculated logic—yes, if he hadn’t caused the rift, they wouldn’t have been banished, or brought here at all. but kamado CHOSE to banish them based on his own paranoia and disdain for outsiders, and the others enabled it by choice. volo didn’t make that happen, just how he didn’t make or even want arceus to get the player involved in the first place.

i don’t think volo hates the player, personally, at all. or at least, i think that he hates them and cares for them just as much as he hates and cares for himself. i know this isn’t groundbreaking volo theorizing material, but he’s absolutely projecting his disdain for society based on his vague past experiences here. he dislikes the outsider because his plan demands it, but he dislikes everyone else because he personally thinks they’re terrible. it’s kinda neat how he “fake” compliments the player’s loyalty to him as a merchant so often, bc i think loyalty is something he actually takes very seriously. and he probably saw how loyal the player was to the galaxy team, and then the way they kicked them out, and was genuinely pissed and hurt on the player’s behalf.

the things he says at the end of the game are said in extreme distress and defeat, and while they are not NOT reflective of his character and motives, i’m shocked by how many pokemon fans regard volo like he’s a nihilistic and amoral sociopath. passion and compassion are behind nearly everything volo does, for better or for worse. they’re behind moments like this, and moments like his ranting at spear pillar. he is a person who constantly grapples to align his personal moral code and lofty ideals, which live in this weird space between the manmade and divine, with the flawed reality of existence. his entire mentality is full of contradictions, because he is a man who thinks he should be god, but in reality could never be a good god, because he is still very much a man. it’s the emotion, idealism, and intellectual curiosity of humanity that drive him, not the impartiality, absolutism, and complacency of an omnipotent all-knowing deity.

so like, with this line. he specifically mentions that the galaxy team has treated the player poorly. not that the galaxy team’s choice was illogical, not that the player just needs to try harder to get them to accept him. he is emphatically rejecting the premise that the player did anything to deserve blame, even though he has no intention to actually explain why this really happened or volunteer himself to take the blame. because ultimately, volo is not the person to blame for the galaxy team’s cruelty, and he knows it. and he also knows that it’s the cruelty that has hurt the player, more than the sky problem itself, because he has been treated like an outsider too. and he can’t DO anything about that. even if he told the truth, the damage has already been done. the player knows how their supposed allies would react in this situation, regardless of the logic or truth. and volo can’t fix that. he does not believe he can make people kinder or the world a better place, which is exactly why he wants so badly to remake it. for himself, bc clearly he’s been through some shit too, for people like the outsider, and for anyone else whose loyalty and dedication have been met with rejection and apathy. which is so deeply tragic and ironic, because by being the only person to care for the player in this moment, he is making the world a better place for them.

volo is, at his core, a hypocrite. he’s like if you put the ingredients for a hero into a blender, but accidentally used the “tragic hypocrite” setting so he came out a janky villain instead. to volo, concepts like loyalty and self-righteousness are driving forces, much moreso than simple black and white morality or consequentialism. this makes him a hypocrite because he believes a perfect world is possible as long as his moral code is strictly followed, and his evil plan is to prove it. but in his efforts to do so, he proves over and over again that a perfect world isn’t possible, and certainly would not be possible under his control.

like, okay—if someone suggested that the means of pain and suffering in the world justified the ends (the world), volo would disagree and claim that arceus is responsible for the pain and suffering, and therefore does not deserve the power to create/rule worlds. but then, following that very same logic, if volo needed to get a random person banished and betrayed in order to create his better world, then those means wouldn’t justify his ends either. which is WHY we see him subconsciously draw a line here, between the things he��s not responsible for (other people being cruel, arceus transporting the player) and the things he is directly responsible for (the way he treats the player in these circumstances, either with derision or support). and wouldn’t you know, in this instance where it truly is up to him what the means are to his ends, he chooses kindness where he could have been cruel. because while arceus sending the hero and the town banishing them weren’t really Volo’s means to Volo’s ends, this conversation sure as hell could be. And he doesn’t want his better world built on a foundation of suffering and pain.

by saying this one line and treating the player as he does here, i think volo accidentally exposes something deeply true and good about himself. this man could say “i’m a villain and i don’t care about the player” and fully believe it, but at the same time demonstrably possess the morals and compassion of a hero, which he uses to actively care for the player. he is a delusional hypocrite, but he’s definitely not heartless. and i just think that’s neat.

alternatively, volo is completely heartless, knows that people are endeared to people who want to protect them, and methodically uses that knowledge here for his convenience. that very well could have been the intention, and it makes sense too—but i personally enjoy entertaining the notion of depth where i see potential for it. so yeah.

#there’s more i could say but i would never stop #volo pokemon #volo #pla #pokemon legends arceus

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sidekick-hero · 6 months ago

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In Loving Memory

Written for @steddieangstyaugust Day 4, prompt: Angst with Happy Ending

Tags: Modern AU, rockstar Eddie, plane crash, HAPPY ENDING, minor character death

words: 3.3k | AO3 | mature

“Good afternoon, Mr. Harrington. My name is Elizabeth Quinn, and I’m part of the cabin crew today. Thank you for choosing to fly with us. I hope you're enjoying your flight so far.”

Steve looks up at the owner of the soft voice to his right. It’s a young woman in a stewardess uniform with big brown eyes that instantly remind him of Eddie.

“Oh, hello. Uhm, yes, everything is fine, thank you.”

The stewardess smiles warmly. “I'm glad to hear that, sir. I wanted to discuss a situation we’re currently facing. As you may know, flights can sometimes be overbooked, and today we have a few more passengers than seats available in first class. We’re looking for a volunteer to move to another section of the plane. In exchange, we’re offering a significant compensation package, including a voucher for a future flight, a complimentary upgrade on your next trip, and a gift card for our in-flight shopping.”

She looks apologetic, and he can tell she hates asking him this. It’s not a particularly long flight, and he mostly booked first class because that’s what his father’s secretary always did for him the few times his parents had him fly to wherever they were. So giving up his seat for a four-hour flight doesn’t seem too bad.

“Yes, I can move to another section of the plane. That’s okay,” he tells the stewardess and is rewarded with a bright, genuine smile adorned with dimples. Another thing that reminds him of Eddie. He pushes the ache in his chest down and returns the friendly smile with one of his own.

“Thank you so much for doing this, Mr. Harrington. If you have any specific preferences or questions, please let me know. Your understanding and cooperation greatly help us ensure everyone has a comfortable flight.”

With that, she leads him to another part of the plane, presumably Economy class.

“This one right here, Mr. Harrington. It has extra legroom and is situated next to an emergency exit. I will make sure you have a pleasant flight with us. You can call me with the call button or find me at the front or back of the plane.”

Steve nods with another smile that falls as soon as she walks away to prepare for takeoff. His thoughts wander back to the reason he’s on a flight to LA today.

Eddie.

He still wonders if this is a good idea. When he bought the ticket to LA, he was sure of it. The panic that had constricted his throat had lessened as soon as he pulled up the website of the airline and he felt like he could breathe again for the first time when he got the confirmation mail.

It’s a long shot, he knows that. Surprising Eddie in LA after everything that happened but he hopes it’s a grand enough gesture that maybe Eddie will forget how much Steve has hurt him. Robin suggested to just call Eddie and apologize, explain to him why Steve was so reluctant to take the next step with him.

The truth is, Steve doesn’t think he could handle it when Eddie didn’t pick up the phone or just hangs up on him before he can say his piece. If Eddie decides that it’s too much for him, that Steve’s too much, too damaged, then be it. But he needs to see Eddie one last time, drink in those beloved doe eyes one more time.

Steve thinks about why he and Eddie fought the last time they saw each other. Growing up in a very conservative household, Steve always suspected he might like men as well as women, but he denied any attraction toward men because of what his parents might say. He knew they wouldn’t accept him.

He was 31 when he walked into a bar in Chicago with his best friend Robin and locked eyes with the most beautiful man he’d ever seen. Eddie was the first man he ever kissed, ever slept with. He couldn’t help himself, not when Eddie flirted with him, wooed him, and made him laugh with his whole body. Steve always assumed what they had was strictly physical, just some fun between two single guys.

But Eddie wanted more than that. He wanted a relationship with Steve.

Eddie had asked Steve to be his date on the red carpet in LA for the Grammy Awards. Eddie was actually nominated with his band, Corroded Coffin, and he wanted to show the world who he loved. But Steve was scared. Everybody would know he was in a relationship with another man. So he declined, and Eddie left Steve’s apartment heartbroken.

Steve can still see the look on Eddie’s face, the hurt in his eyes. It had shattered something inside him, but his fear was stronger. He had watched Eddie walk away, the love of his life slipping through his fingers because he was too afraid to hold on.

Steve’s thoughts are interrupted by the plane's PA system crackling to life, announcing their imminent takeoff. He leans back in his seat, staring out the window as the plane begins to taxi down the runway. The memory of Eddie's face, the pain in his eyes, is as vivid as ever.

He had tried to justify his fear, telling himself it was about protecting Eddie, about not wanting to put him through the scrutiny and judgment that would come from being seen with another man. But deep down, Steve knew it was about protecting himself. He was scared of what his parents would think, what the world would think.

As the plane ascends, Steve closes his eyes, replaying that last conversation with Eddie in his mind.

"Steve, I love you. I want us to be together, really together," Eddie had said, his voice trembling with emotion. "I want you by my side at the Grammys. I want to show the world who I love."

Steve had felt his heart pound in his chest, a mix of fear and longing. "Eddie, I can't. You know how my parents are, how everyone will react. It's not that simple."

Eddie's eyes had filled with tears. "It is that simple, Steve. Either you love me enough to be with me, openly and proudly, or you don’t. I can’t keep hiding us. I can't keep hiding you."

Steve had stood there, silent and conflicted, as Eddie walked out the door. The sound of the door closing behind him had felt like the end of everything.

The plane levels off, and Steve opens his eyes, blinking back tears. He knows this trip to LA is a long shot, but he has to try. He has to make Eddie understand how much he means to him.

Steve takes a deep breath and pulls out his phone, opening the notes app. He starts typing, trying to find the right words to say when he sees Eddie.

The flight attendants come by with the beverage cart, and Steve looks up to see Elizabeth smiling at him. “Can I get you anything, Mr. Harrington?”

“Just some water, please,” Steve says, returning her smile.

As she hands him the bottle of water, she says softly, “It looks like you have a lot on your mind, if you don’t mind me saying.”

Steve looks up at her as he accepts the cup of water and finds that he actually wants to talk with someone about what he’s about to do. He needs someone to tell him that it’s going to work out.

“I do. I’m on my way to win back the man I’m in love with.”

There, he said it. He admitted that he was in love with another man and now he’s fighting the urge to hide, scared of her reaction. But he holds her gaze, heart pounding in his chest.

“Oh,” she says, her eyes softening, “that explains the look on your face. I think you’re very brave, Mr. Harrington.”

Steve takes a moment, contemplating how much to share. But he feels a strange sense of comfort in Elizabeth’s kind eyes.

“His name is Eddie,” Steve begins, his voice barely above a whisper. “He’s the most amazing man I’ve ever met. He’s kind, talented, and makes me laugh like no one else can. But I let my fear ruin everything between us.”

Elizabeth listens intently, her expression encouraging him to continue.

“We fought because he wanted us to go public, to be together openly. He wanted me to go with him to the Grammys, to be his date. But I was too scared of what my parents would think, what people would say. So, I said no. And he left,” Steve explains, his voice cracking.

Elizabeth nods, understanding in her eyes. “That sounds really hard, Steve. But it also sounds like you care a lot about him.”

“I do,” Steve says, his eyes filling with tears. “I love him more than anything. That’s why I’m going to LA. I need to tell him how sorry I am and that I’m ready to be with him, no matter what anyone else thinks.”

Elizabeth places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “It takes a lot of courage to admit when you’re wrong and to fight for what you love. Eddie is a very lucky man to be loved so much by you, Steve. I hope he sees that.”

Steve smiles, feeling a bit lighter. “Thank you, Elizabeth. I really hope he does.”

Elizabeth gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze before moving on to the next passenger. Steve watches her go, feeling a much needed sense of hope. He’s made mistakes, let fear dictate his actions, but he’s ready to make things right.

About two hours into the flight, Steve decides to stretch his legs and walks up and down the narrow aisle. He passes families with little kids, an elderly couple working on a crossword puzzle together, and two young women chatting and laughing. It’s fascinating to see so many different lives intersecting in one place.

On his fifth lap, Elizabeth appears next to him, gently touching his arm.

“Steve, could you please take your seat and fasten your seatbelt?”

He looks at her, puzzled. “But the seatbelt signs are still off.”

“That’s true, but from experience, I know the signs could come on any minute. I just wanted to give you a heads-up before the aisle gets too crowded with everyone returning to their seats.”

Steve nods, appreciating the heads-up. “Thanks for letting me know.” He heads back to his seat.

As Steve settles in and fastens his seatbelt, the plane suddenly lurches violently. The cabin shakes with a gut-wrenching turbulence, hurling passengers and their belongings through the air. Panic erupts as screams fill the cabin, and Steve clings to his seat, trying to stay calm amid the chaos.

Elizabeth dashes down the aisle, her face pale and eyes wide. She spots Steve and rushes over, her voice barely audible over the cacophony. “Steve! Call Eddie! Now!”

Heart pounding, Steve scrambles for his phone. His hands tremble uncontrollably as he dials Eddie’s number. The turbulence makes it nearly impossible to hold the phone steady, but he manages to keep a grip.

The call connects, and Eddie’s voice comes through, thick with confusion and worry. “Steve?” He asks and then he must hear the chaos in the background because he immediately adds, “What’s going on? Is everything alright?”

“Eddie,” Steve’s voice cracks as he fights back tears. “I’m so sorry. I should have been braver. I should have been all in. I’m on this plane, and it’s really bad. I wanted to come to LA to talk to you. I wish I could have done all this in person. I wish I could kiss you one last time.”

Eddie’s voice trembles with desperation. “Steve, what’s happening? Why does this sound like a goodbye?”

Steve’s eyes dart around the cabin, the plane shaking violently as alarms blare and panicked voices rise. “I don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t want this to be a goodbye, but I think it might be. I needed to tell you how much I regret being so scared, and I’m sorry for hurting you. I love you, Eddie. I should’ve told you when I had the chance.”

The turbulence worsens, and the plane begins a terrifying descent. The noise in the background grows louder and more intense. Eddie’s voice, filled with panic, tries to reach him. “Steve, stay with me! Please!”

But as the plane’s descent becomes more violent, the call goes eerily silent. Steve’s heart pounds in his chest as the only sound now is the relentless, chilling dial tone. Tears stream down his face as he grips the phone tightly.

Elizabeth returns to Steve’s side, her eyes filled with kindness and urgency. She places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Hold on, Steve. It’s going to be okay, but I need you to fight. For Eddie, okay?”

Steve nods, trying to steady himself amidst the chaos. He closes his eyes, focusing on Eddie’s voice and the love they shared, holding onto the hope that somehow, somehow, he’ll get another chance.

The last thing he hears is the deafening roar of something massive hitting the ground way too fast.

When Steve opens his eyes, he’s immediately overwhelmed by blinding light and searing pain. He groans, wishing for unconsciousness to take him away again so the agony would stop.

“Steve?”

The sound of Eddie’s voice pulls him from the sweet embrace of nothingness. The panic in Eddie’s voice is palpable, as if he’s on the verge of breaking down.

“’ddie?” Steve mumbles, his mouth feeling like it’s stuffed with cotton and his tongue heavy.

“Yes, I’m here, Stevie. I’m here.” Suddenly, Eddie’s beloved face appears above him, his eyes red-rimmed and watery. “Hi, baby.”

Steve manages a smile, the pain momentarily overshadowed by the sight of Eddie’s face. How he’s missed those eyes.

The thought brings Elizabeth back to his mind, the stewardess with the same eyes. Reality crashes back, and Steve gasps with the sudden realization that he should be dead.

“What… happened?” he croaks, his voice barely audible as his strength begins to wane.

“I promise I’ll explain everything, Stevie, but first we need to get your strength back. I’ll let the nurse know you’re awake.” Eddie reaches for the call button next to Steve but stops to press a gentle kiss to Steve’s forehead. “I’m so glad you’re here. I was terrified of losing you.”

That’s the last thing Steve hears before darkness pulls him under once more.

The next time Steve wakes up, he feels a bit better. The pain is still there, but it’s dulled by the medication, making it manageable. He’s strong enough to talk more than just a few minutes, and he uses that strength to repeat to Eddie what he had said on the phone during the crash.

Eddie is holding Steve’s hand between his, his tear-streaked cheek resting gently on the back of Steve’s hand. His eyes are still red and puffy, but he speaks with a steady voice that is thick with emotion. “Steve, I could never just walk away from you. I knew you weren’t ready, even though it hurt. I planned to talk to you when I got back to Chicago, to tell you that I would wait for you, as long as I wouldn’t lose you. But when you called and I heard all that screaming… Fuck! I can’t even think about it without wanting to throw up. The crash was bad—most of the front was completely destroyed. It’s a miracle you survived.”

Steve blinks, trying to piece together the fragments of his memory. “How… How did I survive?”

Eddie’s gaze is intense as he searches Steve’s eyes. “From what they told me, you were supposed to be seated in the front, but you weren’t. No one could explain why. Your seat was right next to the emergency exit, so they got you out quickly. And you had your seatbelt fastened, which probably kept you from being thrown around too much. It’s almost like fate that you survived. Only twenty-three people made it.”

Steve’s eyes widen as he absorbs Eddie’s words. The thought weighs heavily on his chest: If it hadn’t been for Elizabeth’s warning, he might not have been so lucky. He’s sure she’s the reason he’s still here.

A flicker of concern crosses Steve’s face. “Elizabeth… she was a stewardess on the flight. She moved me to this seat, told me that first class was overbooked and asked if I’d be willing to switch. And she also made sure I fastened my seatbelt just before we started going down.”

Eddie’s eyes grow wide with shock. “But… they said on the news that casualties were below a hundred because first class wasn’t as full as usual. They said no one in that section survived.”

Steve’s heart pounds as he starts to realize the gravity of Elizabeth’s actions. “I need to find out if she survived, Eddie. She saved my life, and I need to thank her.”

Eddie’s eyes brighten with resolve. “We can do that, Stevie. I need to thank this woman, who saved the man I love. What’s her name? I’ll get Chrissy on it—she’ll find out in no time.”

Feeling his love for Eddie surge, Steve lets it overflow for the first time without restraint. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

They share a long, tender look, like lovesick teenagers, before Steve remembers Eddie’s question. “Her name is Elizabeth Quinn.”

Eddie’s expression changes abruptly. All color drains from his face.

“What did you say her name is?”

“Elizabeth Quinn. Why, do you know her?”

Ignoring the question, Eddie asks, “What did she look like?”

Steve describes Elizabeth, including her big brown eyes that reminded him of Eddie’s—one reason he bonded with her almost instantly.

As Steve finishes, Eddie looks even paler. Wordlessly, he pulls out his phone, navigates to an article from the airline, and hands it to Steve. The headline reads: “Airline Grieves Loss of Crew Members on Flight 731.” The article features a picture of a stewardess who looks just like Elizabeth. Her name is listed below the photo: Elizabeth Quinn.

Steve’s heart sinks as he reads the name. “That’s her. Elizabeth Quinn.”

Eddie’s voice trembles as he looks at Steve. “Elizabeth Quinn was my mom. She was a stewardess, and she died in a plane crash when I was eight.”

Steve’s eyes widen in shock. “I’m so sorry, Eddie. I had no idea.”

Eddie’s eyes are glassy as he looks at Steve. “She was the best person I knew. She loved her job and loved helping people. And now it seems she came back to help two more people: me and you.”

Steve reaches out weakly, placing a hand on Eddie’s. “I wish I could have thanked her in person. But I did tell her about you—how funny, smart, and amazing you are. How much I love you. And I should have known, because you look just like her. The same kind eyes and dimples when you smile.”

Eddie squeezes Steve’s hand, his voice breaking. “I’m glad you got to meet her. God, this is so crazy. I was so angry for so long that she left me. I know it’s unfair, but that’s how I felt. I miss her so much.”

“She knew you loved her. She made sure you wouldn’t lose another person you love, because she loves you too. Even if she’s no longer here, she’s still watching over you.”

“Over us, you mean. I’m pretty sure this means you’re part of the family now.”

Eddie still asks Chrissy to check the airline's list for Steve’s savior. He’s not surprised when Chrissy reports that there was no Elizabeth Quinn on that flight.

#steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie angst #steddieangstyaugust #steve harrington x eddie munson #my writing

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mysadcorner · 6 months ago

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Would I please request how Loki, Pietro maximoff (ATJ), Karli Morgenthau and Bucky Barnes would react if their s/o flinched during an argument?

Marvel Characters Reacting To You Flinch During An Argument Headcanons

-Credit to the gifs owner - Please be specific about characters wanted in requests -

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Loki

Loki would honestly panic a little bit on the inside when he saw you flinch from his sudden movement. It wasn't his intention to come across as potentially lifting his hands to you, and whatever reason it was that made you think that might happen caused him to be a bit scattered and desperate to clear up the situation straight away.

He would come across as a bit frantic while he's trying to apologise to you, simply because that's something he really isn't used to doing at all. Because of this, he isn't quite sure how to come across as sincere and genuinely sorry, but it's clear that he's definitely trying to.

There would be some underlying anger from Loki as to why you flinched, and what may have possibly caused you to have that kind of reflex. He’ll try to get an honest answer out of you until he finds out the cause, and despite the argument, he’ll have no second thoughts of inflicting wrath on the person that may have caused you to instinctively flinch as a natural response to small gestures during heated moments.

It’s not often that he feels bad for his own actions, and because of this, he’ll find the situation frustrating to deal with even though it’s not your fault. He wouldn’t know how to approach his own guilt and may play it off until hw’s found a way that makes up for what happened in his own mind.

He’s never truly self aware, even when he wants to be, so he’ll often forget about trying to be less aggressive when the two of you are arguing. He still tries his best, but in the heat of the moment he forgets pretty much everything other than his own emotions.

Bucky Barnes

Bucky is going to feel incredibly guilty when he sees you flinch, mainly just for the thought of you instinctively protecting yourself against you possibly being hurt by him in any way. He’s aware of his anger, and of his ability to hurt people if that anger gets out of control, so once you flinch during an argument it’s going to be on his mind for a long while.

His apologies are going to be frantic, and even if you tell him that everything is okay and that you don’t hold anything against him he’ll still take time to continuously apologise to you. Of all people, you’re the one person he wouldn’t want to scare in any way.

He’d desperately need to find out why you reacted the way you did, he’d be filled with anger at just the thought of someone previously hitting you causing you to instinctively flinch against him. He may come across as demanding, but he won’t settle the issue until he finds out anything that may have experienced in your past.

His guilt would eat him up inside just from the thought of what may have went through your mind for a split moment. He would go out of his way to make things up to you in the future and would be especially attentive to you at any chance he would get. Although, he would prefer to keep it all private.

He would be incredibly self aware in the future, apart being careful not to lose his temper around you as he’s very self aware how out of hand he can get. Even if he does feel like he’s losing himself to his anger, he’ll hold it in for as long as he can until he’s able to explode when you’re not around.

I don’t know enough about Pietro or Karli to write about them in this situation.

#loki #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki x reader #loki headcanons #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes headcanons

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luveline · 1 year ago

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Hi Jade! Your writing just got me hooked on criminal minds so can you do something with badass!reader and something related to how Spencer deals with her closing herself off because she jus doesn’t know how to be emotionally vulnerable? I can’t think of a specific situation but I trust ur talent 🫶🏼

ty! ♡ fem, 1k

Spencer can't see your face when you curl away like this. You've turned your head to the window, your arm wrapped around your waist and your shoulder in no danger of touching his.

Despite this, he knows you want him near you. You'd pulled him aside casually before entering the jet to ask if he'd sit with you. So, you can continue your slouched cold shoulder if you like, but Spencer's confident that you don't mean it personally, he won't take it that way.

It was a kid, this time. Whenever the BAU fails to pull through and a child dies, you take it hard, as does everyone else. The only difference with you is that if it were any other situation, you'd soldier through, pretending that it didn't hurt you. When cases like this happen you don't bother pretending.

You're taking it especially hard, perhaps because you were reprimanded. You edged your way into somewhere you shouldn't have and accused the wrong man. Spencer doesn't know what Hotch said to you to wound you this deeply, but he can imagine it was something along the lines of forsaking your hot-headedness. Spencer knows from personal experience that it's going to stick around, a what if like cancer in your head that grows and grows. What if Hotch was right? And what if your bad decision was the weight that tipped the scale out of favour?

He makes sure that no one can listen before he leans in toward you. "You okay?" he asks quietly.

"I'm fine," you say, shrugging without looking away from the window.

He checks behind him. Hotch is in the kitchenette, a cup of coffee and a case file balanced in one hand, a tea kettle in the other. Morgan lays across the couch with Emily in the chair adjacent, reading. JJ texts to Spencer's right. She can definitely hear everything he's about to say, but he'll get over it.

"You remember when he yelled at me in Tennessee?" he asks. "In front of the team? I thought he'd be mad at me for weeks, but–"

"It's not Hotch I'm thinking about." You lean back in your chair properly, tipping your chin up. You look as though you've swallowed something sharp.

"I know," Spencer says. He digs through his messenger bag for the drink he bought before take off, a half litre of your favourite.

He presses it into your hand.

"I'm okay," you say, taking it. You weigh it back and forth, the liquid sloshing heavily, your eyes tracking the wave.

"Just drink it. It'll help your headache."

You unscrew the cap of your drink. "How did you know I have a headache?" you ask between little sips.

Spencer just knew. Same way he knows you don't want to talk about the case, no matter how badly you need to.

Your hand lays restless on your thigh, twitching like you're in the midst of a bad dream. The jet is dim but not dark, the lines and valleys of your face gently shadowed. He knows he could kiss your cheek and cheer you up if he had the courage. He thinks about it until he goes half mad.

"I wish I was like you," he murmurs. "I know it doesn't always work out, but you're not afraid to mess up. That's a good thing."

You turn your cheek into the chair. For the first time in hours, he can see all of you. Your shoulders relax, your eyelids slightly droopy.

"Maybe I'd mess up less if I weren't," you say.

"But you do more good taking a chance on things than bad." Spencer can't summon the courage to kiss your cheek, but he can take your unhappy hand into his.

You close your eyes. Tentative, Spencer presses the back of your hand to the front of his, drawing half circles into your palm. You let him do it for long, slow minutes, nothing but the hum of the engine and his skin brushing yours.

When your lip wobbles, he curls his hand closed around yours.

You aren't upset about Hotch, he knows that. You're upset about something they couldn't change, because they weren't fast enough. It's a team failing that you've taken onto your shoulders, and it isn't right. Spencer gives the plane one last look before he darts forward. He stops short, his face next to yours, and sighs.

You turn away from him before he can kiss your cheek.

You've never had a problem bragging about how much you like Spencer. When somebody tells him to stop talking, you listen. When others roll their eyes, you smile and poke at his sides teasingly. Usually, you'd let him kiss you. He grits his teeth and buckles up. If you can't be vulnerable, he can be twice; failed kisses don't bother him if it's in an attempt to cheer you up.

"What can I do?" he asks, pulling your joined hands to his chest.

"Nothing. Sorry. Nothing, I'm fine."

"Can we please work on the assumption that you're not fine? And that I'm here?"

You frown at him. Slowly, your frown turns to a less horrifying impassiveness, and not long after that you're pressing your cheek to his shoulder.

"Can we not talk? Would that be okay?" you whisper.

"Sure. Of course it is."

You nod gratefully into his arm. He lets his nose sink into the top of your head, not giving much thought to how uncomfortable it is. His arm comes up to stroke yours, but when JJ stands he drops it.

"Thank you, Spencer," you murmur.

"You're welcome. Now be quiet."

He can feel the shape of your smile against his arm, small but real.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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spidybaby · 1 year ago

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One where you're Gavi's older sister and you have a bad relationship. You and Pedri have a secret relationship and at a party Gavi find out about the relationship and is mad at you not at pedri because he doesn't wants to loose him as a friend

Golden Child | part 1

Summary: You're Pablo's older sister, even tho you don't have a good relationship you help him during his injury and find yourself getting involved with Pedri.

Warnings: cursing.

A/N: So I write Gavi as a toxic brother, but I don't think he's like that at all. Also, Aurora is going to be older. Please keep in mind that this is fictional, not based on reality. Love you 💛

Part two | Part Three

Growing up with a brother like Pablo was not easy. He used to be everybody's favorite. He was the star of the family. He was he.

Something that he couldn't be was his parents number one child. Something he hated. Specifically, he couldn't beat the way his parents loved his older sister.

He grew up with two sisters. Aurora, who's twenty-four, and Y/n, who's twenty one.

Aurora and him were very close. They enjoyed doing things together. They were like a team.

On the other hand him and Y/n never had a good relationship. Not because she didn't want to, but because Pablo heavily dislike her.

She was the picture-perfect child. Perfect grades, perfect attitude, always doing what she's told to do. Pablo was not a bad kid, but he wasn't her.

Growing up, they used to be civil with each other. Respecting their personal space, not fighting.

Everything changed when Arturo, who used to be Pablo's best friend, fell in love with his sister. She was fourteen, and they were twelve. She, of course, never had any interest in Arturo.

But one night, when Arturo told her that he was in love with her, she was fifteen. She laughed, finding the whole situation funny. Rejected the thirteen year old boy and walked away from the scene.

Arturo didn't take that well. He felt humiliated. He fought with Pablo, telling him that he never wanted to be close to him or his sister.

Pablo never understood what happened, so he blamed his sister for it. That's where the fights began there. Pablo used every chance he had to bother his sister.

He used to leave her out of things, pull her hair, hide her things, and delete her important things from her computer.

His parents scold him and ground him without playing football. But that didn't work. After a while, she got used to it and didn't even told her parents about it anymore.

When Pablo became more serious with football, he focused his whole energy on the field. But he never agreed on fixing things.

Every time Aurora tried to be the mediator, she ended scolding Pablo about the hurtful things he said to her, making her cry. Pablo ended up laughing and leaving the room. Luckily for him, she moved to Barcelona to study.

For Pablo, the best moment in his career was when he became part of Barça first team. He was all smiles, and no doubt you were proud of your baby brother.

When your parents called you and told you that he got limited people to be there and had to choose for you to not join them when the announcement was made, it broke your heart.

Aurora found out that was a lie when she was helping him with some things for that day, she immediately told you.

She wanted you to go with the whole family and even told you she was telling your parents about what Pablo did. But you begged her not to, you didn't want to be the reason his day was ruined.

"Rora, por favor." You begged. "Don't tell mom."

"I'm just so mad at him. How dare he lied to us that way?"

"I don't know, but it's okay. He can choose who to have there."

"You're his sister."

"It's okay. I promise I'm okay."

You were not okay with the news, but you fake a smile and told Aurora how relieved you were because you had nothing to wear. Lies, you spend your savings on buying a nice outfit for the occasion. That night, you cried yourself to sleep.

Having him close but so far at the same time was horrible. You tried everything in you to get to see him but after all the read text, after he didn't return any of your calls or even try to make a space for you in his life, you were done hurting yourself. So you decided to have zero contact with Pablo.

He saw the glory, acting like Aurora was his only sister. He even started to tell new people in his life that, yes, Aurora was his only sister. Thing that neither Aurora nor you knew about, thinking it was because people didn't know about you for not being as public as Aurora.

It wasn't easy, seeing him everywhere in posters at every place in Barcelona, or the games, or when you see people wearing his number on their jerseys. But you had to remember that he was the one that didn't want you there, and as much as it hurts, you respect his decision.

"But mami, why am I supposed to do?" You ask uninterested. "I get he's hurt but, he's not dying."

"Y/n, please. I know you have your own things going on, but neither Daddy nor I can go to check him. And Aurora is on finals. Please baby."

Pablo got injured during a game. His muscles were not very good, and he needed to rest. Your parents were in Sevilla. They couldn't just leave work and go to check on him.

So they ask you to take care of him. You nicely said no because you didn't want to put yourself in a position where Pablo could easily attack you.

But when they find out he needed help to do things like getting upstairs, get dressed carefully, and take his medication. Your parents start begging you to help them.

"Okay, I'll do it." You say frustrated. "But what am I supposed to do? Move myself from here to there and back again? You have no idea how expensive that is going to be."

"Mi amor, daddy and I are taking care of that. Don't worry."

"But are you sure Pablo is okay with this?"

"Si, hija. Ya te lo repetí cinco veces." (Yes, I already repeat it five times)

"Got it, I'll go to his house before he gets back from training."

"Gracias, do you know the door code? Because I have it somewhere"

"Yes, I know it." You interrupted. "Listen, I have to go get ready if I want to be on time. I'll tell him to call you."

You say your goodbyes, promising her that everything was going to be fine.

The Uber from your house to Pablo's was kind of expensive. Due to being in a zone meant for students and his being on a gated community, it was basically going to the other side of Barcelona.

"Gracias." You say getting out of the car and entering the house. Once you're inside, you find yourself amazed. It was a beautiful and very minimalistic place.

You looked around, there's pictures of him with the rest of your family, some pictures with Aurora, with his friends.

You were earlier than you expected to be. You thankfully packed your computer and books. Not wanting to just be around doing nothing.

About twenty minutes later, you heard the front door opening. You sense other voices.

"Cuidado, que no queremos que te lastimes más de lo que ya estas " (careful, we don't want you to hurt yourself more than you already are)

You stayed quiet, looking at the two boys helping Pablo.

"There you go. Let me bring you your crutches. Pedri help me with his backpack "

He stayed still, grabbing the door.

"Pablo," you say low.

He turned his head to you. He knew you would be there because your mother told him.

"Dejame ayudarte," you ask, seeing him struggling to stand on his own. (Let me help you)

"No." He harshly moved his arm from you. "My friends are doing that already."

"I know but-"

"Help me with bringing me water, I need to take a pill."

The way he turns his back to you is making you mad. You were there to help him, no need to act like a little boy.

"Is cold water okay?" You ask, he ignored you. So you take that as a yes. You walk into the kitchen, searching for the cups.

"Y/n" Pablo call you.

"Yes?"

"Can you bring another cup of water?"

"Okay." You say grabbing another cup. "A please would be nice, tho." You whisper to yourself.

You walk back, finding two other boys. One blonde and tall and other a little taller than Pablo, black hair and very full eyebrows.

"Here," you hand him the water. "This is for?" You ask.

"For me." The black hair guy says. "Thank you."

You smile at him, a little shy about starting a conversation. "Where's your medicine? You need to take not one but two pills." You say, remembering the doctors note your mother sent you.

"Only one, today they told me that I can drop the other one."

"Where is it?" You ask. He ignored you because he was on his phone

"Is in his room, I think." The blonde one says. You wanted to throw a pillow at your brother. Not even caring to answer a simple question.

You smiled and nodded, making your way upstairs and entering room for room until you found your brother's one. The pills were easy to find. They were on his nightstand, It was the only thing there.

You look at the disorder of his room, you'll help him cleaning a bit because it was hard for you to believe he can sleep with all of this.

"Found it," you say, getting back. "Do you need more water?"

"Mhm"

"I'll be back."

"But not cold water." He hands you the cup back. You nod, kind of uncomfortable with the whole interaction. After all, it was the first one in a year.

You go back in the kitchen, filling the cup with water and making another trip back to the living room.

"Hey, since Pablo is not introducing us. I'm Frenkie." The blonde one says, smiling at you.

"And I'm Pedri." The black hair one says, imitating the actions of Frenkie.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Y/n." You only smile at them, not being the best at meeting new people.

After the boys introduce themselves, they chat a little. You notice that Pablo was on his phone the whole time. Giving half answers.

"Okay, we're leaving, Pablito. Please take care." Frenkie pats him on the back. "And y/n, nice to meet you."

"Bye," Pedri says, waving. You wave them goodbye.

After they left, the silence in the room was a not so nice one for you. Pablo was in his own world, focused on his phone.

"Pablo, are you hungry?" You ask picking up the empty cups. He ignored you.

You roll your eyes, trying to control the urge to throw him a cup. "Pablo, please answer." The way he keeps ignoring you is annoying. "Okay." You walk to the kitchen, droping the cups at the sink. Go back to where he is, pick up your backpack, and walk to the front door. "Have fun."

"Wait, where are you going? Mom said You'll help me." He finally acknowledged you.

"Mira, te voy a decir algo." (Look, I'm going to tell you something) you close the door. "Yo tengo mejores cosas que hacer que cuidarte, así que si no quieres mi ayuda me voy, no voy a aguantar tus cosas." (I have better things to do rather than take care of you. So if you don't want my help, I'm leaving, I'm not dealing with this attitude)

He has this surprise but angry face. When you were a kid, you loved the way his angry face looked, but now that you're mad at him, you heavily dislike it.

"So, I'm going to ask you one more time, only one, because if you pull this silence treatment one more time, I'm out the door." You put your backpack back on the couch. "Are you hungry? Yes or no?"

"Yes, very hungry," he says, looking at his phone.

"Now," you grab his wrist and separate his phone from his face. "Would you like me to cook something for you, or do you want takeout?"

"You cook?" He scuffs

"Pablo." You warn him.

"Vale, vale, no te enojes." He lift his hands "puedes hacerme un sandwich o cualquier cosa, no sé." (Okay, okay, don't get angry. You can make me a sandwich or something, i don't know.)

You sigh. It was going to be some hard weeks.

"Pablo, c'mon man, you have to do this, or you'll never progress." You say trying to get him to apply a gel the physiotherapist sent him.

"But it stinks." He says, slapping your hand away.

"Pablo, te quedas quieto y me dejas aplicarte esto o te lo voy a pasar por la cara." (Stay still and let me apply this to you, or I'll smush it all over your face) You dig your nails to his calves, thing you used to do back when you were kids and you had a fight.

"Stop that." He says, grabbing you by the wrists. "Don't do that." His tone is strong yet he's not yelling.

"It's everything alright?" You both turn your face to Pedri, who was carrying a fast food bag and some drinks.

"No." You both say.

"Okay, I'm leaving this on the counter and I'll help you deal with this dickhead."

"Eres un imbecil, Pedro." Pablo says, angry.

"Pablito, mi vida, escuchame." You whisper sweetly. "Let me apply this. The quicker you say yes, the quicker I'll do it. Por favor."

His eyes are back on you, mad expression on his face. He puff angrily, letting your hands go. You quickly open the gel and apply it the way it's supposed to.

"Ya, calmado?" Pedri asks, laughing. "I know that gel is the worst, but it's really refreshing." Pablo puffs again. "Venga macho, vamos a comer que te traje tu comida favorita." (C'mon man, let's eat, I bring you your favorite food.)

Pedri helps Pablo walk to the table. Since his crutches were somewhere else. You go into the kitchen and wash your hands really well. He was right that gel stinks.

"I bring you something to eat, I'm not sure what you like, so sorry if it's not what you expected." Pedri says, walking into the kitchen.

"You did?" In the last few days, he was a big help with your brother, always picking him to go to his therapy and back home. He nods, smiling. "Thank you, Pedri."

"Can one of you bring more napkins?" Pablo yelled. You turn to take the napkins, giving them to Pedri.

"You're not eating with us?" He asked, confused about you opening your laptop instead of going to the table with them.

"No, I have some homework, plus, this kid for the love of God can't keep his room organized, so I'll go help him with that." You say exasperated, opening your a word document.

"You're such a good cousin."

You stop on your tracks, trying not to show your expression. "A good what?" You ask without moving your eyes from your screen.

"A good cousin, I mean you took time out of your life to take care of Pablo." The way he's saying this in such a positive way. Not even knowing how the words he just said affect you.

"How do you know we are cousins?" You ask, smiling a little, pretending to continue the conversation.

"Pablo told us, he said the first time we met you that you were his cousin that was helping him with his injury."

You only nod. Feeling how your stomach is turning.

"Go back with him. You're probably hungry. " You want him out of the kitchen, not wanting your facial expressions to betray you. "Thanks for the food."

Once his out of the kitchen, you can feel some tears pooling in your eyes. Not sure if it's anger or betrayal.

"No pensé que fueras cule." Pedri says, entering the house and leaving the bag that belongs to Pablo on the table. (Didn't think you were a cule.)

"Well, Pablo plays for the team, so I kind of am." You joke, smiling at him. "But to be honest, Alexia is the only reason I'm watching the game."

"Alexia? God, she's the best." He takes a seat next to you. "She's like a firework."

"Also, Aitana, they're my favorites."

"You should ask Pablo to introduce you to them." He laughs, "We have full access to games for the feminine team. He can take you to a game." You only nod.

Since he told you how Pablo introduce you to them as a cousin, you barely even look at him. Helping him like you promised your parents and then leaving, no words exchanged.

"I don't want to be a bother." You say, honestly.

"You won't, look, my cousin Adrian, he was the first one to ask me to introduce him to Messi." He laughs remembering. "Not even my brother."

You look down at your hands. For him, it was easy. His family and him were so close, for you, it was hard, Pablo never liked you.

"I'll think about it." You say, "Pablo is upstairs by the way."

"Joder, si no me quieres cerca dímelo." He jokes, laughing at your words. "But thank you. I'll go see him." (Fuck, if you don't want me close you can say that)

"That's not what I meant." You laugh. "But I know you're here for him."

"And what if I'm not here only for him?" He asks looking at you, smiling sweetly.

The heat creeps to your cheeks, you turn your face back to the game, not wanting him to see your red face.

He laughs at your actions, standing up from the couch. "I'll go upstairs. Hope Alexia scores." He says before walking upstairs.

"Let me get you another drink." Your friend says, taking your cup, you're at a party that she got you in, you don't even know who's hosting or anything, but you were enjoying and drinking.

"Okay, I'm going to the bathroom." You shout, walking inside, you ask a few people for the bathroom. All of them point at a door at the end of the corridor.

After using the bathroom and washing your hands, you exit ready for more drinks. Your body hit someone on the way out of the house, and the drink of this person has spilled all over you.

"Joder, lo siento mucho." The voice says, worried. "Y/n?" Pedro asks, eyes focusing on your face.

Your eyes found his. "Pedri." You smile.

"Sorry, nena. I spill this shit all over you. Come here." He grabs your hand and walks with you back into the bathroom. "Let me help you." He grabs the towel that's there. "Can I?"

You can't even control your actions. Your arms are now behind your back, giving him access to your chest area, where most of the drink spilled.

He carefully patted the towel to dry you. "Te puedo reponer el vestido, lo siento tanto" (I can pay for your dress, I'm really sorry).

"Don't worry, it was an accident."

"No, seriously. I can take you to get a new dress."

You nod smiling. Eyes fixed on his. On the way his focus expression makes him look so handsome, the way the yellow light in the bathroom hit his skin and made it shine almost perfectly.

"Wanna dance?" You ask out of nowhere, grabbing his wrist, making him stop. Fingers tapping on his skin.

"You want to dance?" He's focused on the way you look, how good you look on that dress. "With me?" He asks, scuffing.

"Is that a yes or a no?" You laugh. Your fingers grab the towel, throwing it somewhere on the floor.

He nodded quickly. You take his hand, intertwine it with yours, and walk outside to the dance floor, there's a lot of people, but you're only focusing on the guy in front of you.

Pedro is doing the same, the way you're dancing, the way you're smiling and making him dance when he doesn't know what to do.

"Pedri." You grab his arms and pull him closer to you. "You look so good tonight." Your hands caress his arms up and down, making him shiver.

"I think you're kind of drunk, bonita." He's trying to stop the thought of kissing you.

"Yet you're the one that spilled your drink on me." You laugh. He swears your laugh is adorable.

"And I'm sorry about it." He honestly says, "I'll make it up for you."

"And how are you going to do it?" You got closer to him. "Tell me." Maybe it is the alcohol in your system. Maybe it's just him.

"I have an idea." His hands are on each side of your face, fingers caressing your cheeks. "But I'm not sure if doing this while you're drunk is the right thing to do."

"Well I do think it is." You close the distance between you two, enjoying the feeling of his lips on yours.

One hand on the back of his neck pulling him closer, if that's possible, and the other playing with his hair.

His hands go down from your face to your waist, his fingers digging lightly onto your flesh. Making you moan a little at the feeling of his fingers.

Once the air run down you both separate, lips swollen from the kiss. "Any thoughts on the idea?" You joke. Pecking his lips. Action he repeats.

"I think I can help you out of the wet dress." He grabs your chin, giving you another peck. "Only if you let me." He says kissing your cheek, making you laugh.

"Aurora!" you run to her. Jumping on her arms. "I missed you so much, hermanita." You grab her face, kissing her cheek repeatedly.

"Okay, I think that's enough." She laughed putting you down. "I missed you so much, life without is so boring." She hugs you tight.

"Let's go, I got Pablo's car so we can go anywhere we want." You show her the keys, making them jiggle in your hand.

"Got it like stealing it?" She asks, raising her eyebrows.

"He was sleeping, plus he's not using it."

She laughed, giving you another hug, you walk with her to where you parked.

"So, have you guys worked on your relationship?" She asks curious. You know her question is genuine curiosity, not anything bad intended.

You're not sure if you should tell her about the whole ~she's my cousin~ situation. "I mean we haven't kill each other." You half smile.

"Okay." She narrow her eyes. "Let's try again. But this time be honest."

"It's been weird, Pablo and I barely even talk, and when we do is more a single answers" you honestly answer, "I just wish we could be like the two of you."

"Don't worry, he's just weird in general, he'll open to you." She pat your shoulder.

"When? Rora, I don't know if you notice but he's about to turn nineteen and he can't even remember when my birthday is." You say exasperated. "Pablo doesn't like me, not matter if I'm his sister, he just doesn't."

Aurora doesn't answer, mostly because she doesn't know what to say to you. She's been the one who had to witness all the dumb fights, all the times he hurted you just because.

"I know he loves you." She says, body turning to yours. "Pablo might act weird but he loves you, he told me that."

"He did?"

"Yes, he's just a stupid teenager, so don't worry about him and his weird actions. You're his sister and he loves you." She hugs your arm. "Now let's go, he might wake up soon." She laughed.

Aurora notice the change in your face. She knows that she shouldn't lie to you. But she can't stand your sad eyes when you talk about Pablo.

And even when she tried to help the situation, she haven't archived nothing more than fighting between you two.

"I made you your favorite cake." You say as you enter the house. "And I'll prepare your favorite food for dinner."

"Oh I've missed you." She kiss your cheek. "Pablo!" She yells.

"I'll get your bags." You say going back to the garage.

Grabbing the bag and going back in, when you walk into the living room you saw Pablo hugging Aurora and kissing her cheek. Telling her how much he missed her.

"Y/n will make us some yummy food." She says, hugging him by the waist. "While we wait, let's have some cake."

"I thought the smell was coming from the neighbor house." He jokes, making you two laugh. "Let me help you unpack." He takes the bag from your hands, taking Aurora upstairs.

You turn to the kitchen, getting all the ingredients put to start with the food. Interrupted by the doorbell, you yell that you'll get it.

"Hola guapa." Pedri says as you open the door. "It's Pablo here? He left this at my house and asked me to drop it."

"Hola." You sat the greeting back. "He is, get in."

After the party Pedri and you have been seeing each other here and there. Both agreeing on not telling anyone, specially not Pablo.

"They're upstairs." You walk back inside and into the kitchen.

After a few minutes, Aurora walked singing something, "Need some help?" She asks, washing her hands.

"Can you peel the potatoes? Please."

You both chat a little, catching up on some things that you have pending. She told you about her and Javi.

"So, any boys in sight?" She asks, pinching your arm. "I need to know everything."

"What everything? I'm not seeing anyone." You laugh "The only man I'm seeing is my professor. And he's very annoying."

"Oh don't tell me that, you must be seeing someone. Tell me." She pout.

"I might be seeing someone, but it's something casual." You confess.

"Are you sleeping with him?" She whispers, leaving what she's doing, interested in the conversation.

"Aurora, you don't ask people that." You joke, turning to the sink, washing your hands. "But yes, I am."

"You whore." She laugh. "I can't believe it, you and I were playing with dolls only a few years ago."

"Ay por favor." You splash her with the remaining water in your hands. "As if you don't sleep with your boyfriend."

"I am but you're my baby. I can feel this way." She fake dry a tear. "So, is he your classmate?"

"I told you it was something casual, I'm not giving you more details." You hurry with serving the plates.

While she helps with the table you finish washing some things. Focused on the job you're doing, when two cold hands grab you by the waist you jump a little at the sensation.

"Qué haces?" (What are you doing?) You ask, taking his hands away from you.

"Don't worry, they're upstairs. Aurora is getting Pablo." He says, getting closer so he can kiss you.

"Pedro, not here." You say, getting away from him.

"Let me take you home, I need you so bad." He says, trying to get closer again. "Por favor."

You hear the voices coming downstairs, "fine, but keep your hands to yourself " you quickly kiss him, pushing him outside.

"Let's eat." Aurora says, happily.

The dinner was fun, Pablo and Pedro talked about the next game. "You should come to the game. I heard that Alexia and Jana are coming." Pedro says, looking at you with picardy.

"Uhhh she loves Alexia." Aurora says. "Pablo, can you get us to take a picture with Alexia?"

"Since when do you like Alexia?" Pablo ask you, confused look on his face.

"I've always liked her. Rora and I used to watch the games all the time." You laugh, "remember when we broke that flowerpot? Celebrating when she scored."

"That poor flower." She laughs, "God, grandma hated us."

Pablo raise a brow, never paid attention to your liking for the football player, better say not knowing anything about you.

"I can get you to know her. I'll talk to Xavi tomorrow."

"Thank you." You smile at him. Eyes connecting with Pedro right after, sending him a wink.

After that moment you keep talking about random things. Pedro offers to help you with the dishes.

"Nos vamos?" (Ready to go?) He whispers, kissing your shoulder.

"Let me say goodbye to Aurora and I'll be back." You pinch his cheeks. "Say your goodbyes to Pablo."

You hurry upstairs, reaching to her room. "Hey rorita, Pedri offered me a ride home, so I'm leaving. I promise I'll be here early so I can spoil you with some breakfast."

"Don't go, we can ask Pablito to take us to your place so you get some clothes so you stay here." She pout, hugging your arm. "Stay."

"I promise I'll be here early, plus you have to rest Rorita." You kiss the top of her head. "We can get ready together."

You hug her, helping her with turning the lights off. When you were about to go downstairs you hear Pablo calling you name. "Si?"

"I texted Xavi, he told me that he can arrange a little meeting with Alexia backstage."

"Really?" You smile, exited about the news.

"Yes, I'll give Aurora the details." After saying that, he close his door.

You hurried downstairs. Opening the door, finding the canarian boy waiting for you leaning on his car.

"To your place or mine?" He asks, opening the door for you.

"Mine," you kiss him, hand on his neck. "So sad you can't stay, but you can make it up later." You joke with him. Making him laugh.

"Okay, smile." The photographer says, taking several pictures of the three of you. "Thank you. I'll send them to Gavi after the game."

"Thank you." You say. "Can we take a selfie? Please!" You take your phone out.

"All that you want" Alexia laughs, "well, not everything, I'm not up for a tik tok." She jokes.

"Oh God no, we won't ask you to do tik toks with us."

She place her hand to her heart, acting dramatic as a joke. "Thank you."

After the pictures and a little chat you both thank Alexia for her time. She says her goodbyes and left with the barca manager.

"I can't believe it." You say, jumping exited. Making Aurora jump with you too. "Omg I'm posting this on my story."

Pedro and Pablo were observing you from afar, "I think you just won the ~best cousin~ award." Pedro laughs, shaking his arm.

Pablo only nods, forgetting about him telling his friend about you being his cousin. Not wanting him to mention that in front of you or Aurora. Thinking you didn't know about it.

"Let's go back, Xavi's already mad."

"Go, I'll go to the bathroom real quick." Pedro says, turning to the other direction.

He takes his phone out. Texting you to meet him at the bathroom that's beside the changing room.

When you see it, you were about to leave to go back to your seats. "Hey, I'll go to the bathroom. I meet you on our seats." You say, walking back to the bathroom.

Not waiting for her answer you walk quickly to the end of the hall, entering the bathroom. "I think this is a women's bathroom, sir." You joke.

He won't miss time, pulling you from the waist. When his lips conect with yours, you place your arms on the back of his neck.

"So eager, was last night not enough?" You push him away to breathe. "So needy, González."

"For you?" He pecks you. "Always."

The makeout session begins again, his hands on your ass and yours on his hair.

You hear the bathroom door opening, pushing Pedro away was too late, Aurora alread saw you two. "Ay por Dios." (Oh my God) she gasp, leaving after that.

You don't even look at Pedro, quickly leaving him alone to go look for your sister. "Aurora." You yell, "please stop. I can explain." You run to her.

"Don't." She says when you grab her arm. "Let's go back to our seats."

She goes out back to the stadium seats. Leaving you there, you turn back and see Pedro getting out of the bathroom, eyes finding yours.

♡♡♡

🏷: @gaviandgrizisgirl 💛

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callme-holly · 14 days ago

Note

Hheelloo, I love your work, your my favorite writer for The Outsiders!! I was wondering if you could write for Darry, I've had a specific scenario for him in my mind. So hear me out, y/n met Darry and the gang after defending Pony from some socs one time, maybe the socs from the beginning of the book/movie, and after y/n and Darry bond and get together. Then, one day, those same socs jump y/n, so this time, it's Darry saving y/n. Idk man, I've just been craving a big strong man to save me in the middle of a crisis, and I wish that man was Darry lol.

𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐲𝐨𝐧 [𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

halcyon: (adj.) denoting a time or feeling of idyllic happiness and tranquillity, often despite the chaos that surrounds it. a/n: i love darry sm. sorry if this is messy i was stressing so bad whilst writing it. i'll read it tmr!!

The situation was ironic really, so much so that if you weren’t currently shaking from head to toe with nerves, tears stinging at your eyes, and anxiety coursing through your veins, you’d probably laugh about it.

It felt like only yesterday that you’d saved Ponyboy from a group of socs, stepping in and shouting at them until they scattered and ran back to their car, though not without spitting various threats your way, words you’d chalked up to be nothing more than empty bullshit. You'd forgotten about them the second the kid’s brother had come to thank you; all memories of the socs dashed as you both talked for what seemed like hours, a connection forming between the two of you, something so strong that you both started dating around a month after the event.

The socs and their threats had never revisited your mind again, at least not until they had started following you home, leaving you in the situation you were in now. You'd never thought they’d hit a girl; it was a basic rule set among both greasers and the socs that no matter how deep their feud ran, they never dragged the girls in—or at least not the ones who didn’t need to be involved. But clearly you were wrong, and they’d left you with multiple bruises along various expenses of skin and a few little scrapes that could have been much worse if Darry hadn’t appeared.

“Hey,” his voice is gruff, cutting through your spinning mind, but it holds a warmth to it that has you leaning into his arms. “Look at me, hon. You okay?”

You nod, unable to find your words as you take a shuddering breath. You hadn’t protested when he’d carried you back to his, setting you gently onto the couch and fussing over you as if you were a sick, vulnerable child.

“What happened?" His hand presses against a particularly nasty bruise along one side of your rib cage, causing you to wince as his calloused finger grazes across your tender skin. “Was it the same ones who jumped Pony?" His expression is grim, and you can see the frustration that is staring to bubble up, his eyes dark with a protectiveness you've only ever seen with his brothers.

"Yeah," you mumble, swallowing past the lump in your throat. "They followed me home. think it's because... you know." He does know. They've been after you ever since you'd defended his brother, and while you seemed entirely oblivious to it, he'd been doing everything he could possibly think of to keep you out of it... And, of course, the one day he wasn't able to do so, someone had hurt you.

He lets out a heavy sigh, sitting beside you and carefully pulling you into his lap, resting you against his chest and holding you close. The contact feels reassuringly normal, even though the anxiety is still swilring around your core and threatening to boil over at any moment. “I've got you..." he murmurs into your hair, his large hands stroking slowly along your back and rubbing soothing circles on your skin, a steady flow of reassurances running through him as he whispers to you softly.

Your breathing evens out somewhat, and your heart pounds harder against your ribcage as he continues to speak in low tones to you, trying to calm you down enough that you're not overwhelmed by the fear. "I should have been there, sweetheart. Im so sorry."

You cut him off quickly, sensing the self-doubt in his voice and glancing up at him through your lashes. "Stop..." you whisper, shaking your head. "It isn't your fault, Darry. They would have done it "Stop,... I should have realised... I'm just lucky you got there when you did."

He's silent for a few seconds, the weight of your words washing over him. You're right; it couldn've been a whole lot worse if he hadn't gotten there in time... "I guess I owed you for saving Pony." he says eventually, smiling weakly down at you, and you can't help but return it.

"really? I thought you did it because you loved me. Your tone is light-hearted and teasing, and the weight in his shoulders seems to lift ever so slightly, your anxiety dispersing the tintiest.

"Well... yeah, kind of." His lips quirk upwards, and you bury your face in his chest, your chest fluttering as he presses a kiss to your hair.

#the outsiders x reader #darry curtis x reader #darrel curtis x reader #darry curtis imagine #darry curtis headcanons #the outsiders imagine

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hamletteprinceofdenmark · 1 year ago

Text

youtube

Transcript of Shelby's Video:

CW: Abuse

:readmore:

Hello! I don't know if you can even hear it, I put on, like, light jazz in the background because it seemed awkward being quiet, but I don't think you can hear it, so I'm just gonna turn it off. Um, hello! Um, welcome! We are in emote only because I'm just gonna be talking today, and then I'm gonna go! I'm gonna go!

Um, yeah, it was very, very low. There's, there's no need. I just, it felt weird leaving you in silence, but I'm here, so — Hello! Um, I want to talk about something today that, um, very nervous. I feel sweaty. I had a sweater on, I had to take it off. Um, I'm gonna try and just, I wrote down pretty much everything I think that I want to say to keep track of, sort of all the points that I want to make sure I don't forget anything. So I will be reading from something, um, a good portion of the time, but not 100 percent of the time. Um, and I just wanted to make sure I got all of my thoughts down in words ahead of time. I'm, I really like writing down my thoughts. So I did that.

Um, oh, hold on. Can I turn ads off? I think that maybe we turn ads off today. How do I make that happen for just today? Um. Shoulda had that already. I shoulda had that already. I actually don't even know how to make that happen. You know what? That's just gonna have to be that way. I'm so sorry.

Um. I'm all good. Um, yeah, okay. Today's just gonna be talking. Uh, I'm just gonna start reading from what I wrote, and go from there.

I have a really big coffee, I'm gonna take a swig. And I have my water, and I'm gonna take a swig of that.

I have always liked telling my different experiences that I've had, um, in dating because it feels important to me to share what I've learned and maybe help other people to not make the same mistakes that I have before. I'm 30. I've dated a lot. I've gone on a lot of dates. I keep trying, um, and it's unfortunate that a lot of my dating history, uh, there were a lot of bad people that tried to manipulate or control me, um, but that's not to say that every person that I've dated has treated me poorly. Um, some people just weren't the right people.

Um, and speaking out about my bad experiences has never felt as important as it does right now because silence has always brought me peace. And this time it feels like my silence is not keeping my peace. It's only keeping somebody else's peace. Um, and I never thought that I could be the kind of person to end up in a situation like I did. I'd never thought that could happen to me.

And so for me, this is important because it could help anybody else see the signs sooner than I did. Um, or hopefully avoid a similar situation entirely. Because the, the truth is it was dangerous. Um, there were a lot of things wrong in this relationship that, um, I endured some pretty terrible treatment. Um, and I might touch on some things here and there about that. But, um, if I feel like it's important to the overall context. But what I want to stay focused on is this specific issue, um, and the things that happened matter-of-factly and the things that people saw and witnessed in our circle.

Um, it took me 10 months after to heal. And I spoke with multiple therapists and tried different forms of therapy. Um, I tried somatic therapy. That one was actually really good for me. Um, because that one actually helped me release a lot of, um, built up anger I was having over the last year. Um, but the anger that I was feeling was for myself because, um, I felt like I should have known better.

I felt so stupid at myself for, um, sort of just staying through all of this. Um, and I shared my story with a lot of friends after I started talking to therapists and I was like "So, this thing happened ... and I wasn't really sure ... It just seems weird now to me looking back," and all of them told me exactly what was happening in the words that I was too afraid to use.

Um, and I was being hurt in my last relationship. And it took me all of that time to see it through that lens. Um, I even posted an anonymous story to Reddit that I have now deleted with an anonymous account. But in posting that, I found a dozen other stories that were exactly like mine, exactly the same way. Um, and all of the comments said exactly the same thing.

Um, and I was so mad at myself because I was lying to, um, at a certain point to protect this person, because I knew that if I told my friends the truth, it'd make him look really bad. Um, I didn't think that I would cry and I practiced saying all of this and I didn't cry, but it's easier to practice it when no one is listening.

Um, but he always cared more about how it looked and that was really important, not what was true. Um, and it was really subtle. When I hear about, um, when I hear about physical abuse, I think of hitting. I think of hitting and punching, um, so I thought that this wasn't violent enough, um, to be abuse. Uh, I thought that it was just like a constant accident that he kept hurting me. Um, but he's not hitting me and it didn't start as something that he did to hurt me.

Uh, he had this habit of biting, which is so weird to me now, but he said that he had had this habit since he was a kid. And even his mom said that that was true. And he said it was just affectionate and that that might have been — I mean, I think that that might have been true, maybe, at the start, but I also feel that I have good reason to believe that every part of it was a lie, but that's just my personal opinion, um, and I had no problem with just biting, that isn't even the most uncommon thing, um, but he did mention something early that I should have taken as a red flag, um, and he wanted to make sure that I was okay with him biting me because he didn't want me to come back later and say that he abused me. Which I thought was really weird considering he had never hurt me before. And so why would I call it abuse? And why was he thinking about that? And I thought he was being sweet, checking on me to make sure that I was still comfortable. Um, but of course I was because he hadn't hurt me. And why would I think he ever would?

Um, and then he did, for the first time, by accident, uh, and I don't specifically remember the actual first time that he bit me too hard by accident, because I didn't think that it would be significant, um, I thought that it would only happen once, and he started biting me more and more over a period of time, sort of throughout the whole relationship, and accidents of him biting too hard and really hurting me happened more and more frequently, um, but he always seemed genuinely sorry, and he decided that he didn't want to keep accidentally hurting me, um, so we were gonna use a safe word, um, so he could learn where my limit was, where my pain tolerance ended.

Uh, and saying that out loud now doesn't sound — Like, that's not very sound logic. Um, but at the time, I thought he cared about not hurting me. But in reality, it's like, why are you biting so hard? And why do you have to bite so hard? And it shouldn't be that hard of a problem to stop. Um, that shouldn't be that hard.

And he disguised it as this really quirky part of our relationship and was so comfortable sharing it with his friends to the point that he would do it in front of them. He thought it was this really funny story to tell and a good bit to take my arm and bite me in front of everybody until I literally shout in pain. Um, and then I have to laugh it off because I'm so embarrassed and I don't want to cause a scene in front of all of our friends and I'm sure everyone was a little bit uncomfortable, but as long as I was saying that it was fine, nobody really felt like they needed to be concerned and that's not anybody's fault because I was lying. I was lying and it wasn't fine because I would go home later and I'd tell him how uncomfortable I was. How much I didn't like being hurt all the time and I needed him to really stop biting so hard. I didn't like it and I tried telling him over and over again because he wasn't actually trying at all to not hurt me, um, but he said he would try, at first, and then he started saying things like it was my pain tolerance that was too low, or I'm exaggerating how much it actually hurts. He's not even biting that hard. I'm, I'm being dramatic. Um, but his biting escalated to a point where I was covered in bruises all over my arms and they hurt and he would poke at them for fun. And he even felt so comfortable showing off my bruises that he had caused to our friends because he would bite me so hard by accident, "by accident." He would even joke that it looked like he abused me. Um, and eventually he did acknowledge how bad it looked that I was covered in bruises all the time. So he stopped, um, biting my arms as often. And he started biting my legs instead. Um, and it was in the last couple of months of the relationship that every time he bit me, it was until I needed to use this safe word. Um, it had become his benchmark for when to stop.

Only once I was definitely hurt, um, which meant I was being hurt every single day, um, multiple times a day, uh, for all of the days that we spent together in person. And when I asked him to stop again, this time he said, "This is who he is. He isn't going to change." Those were his words. And I remember a lot of, specifically his words about certain things, especially at the end.

Um, because I'm good at remembering words and especially his wording. I became really good at remembering because he was constantly contradicting himself. And I would notice, but most of the time it wasn't worth picking a fight over. And — But he would fight me on it sometimes 'cause I would po- I would point it out and, uh, he would insist that he had never said the thing that he said, he definitely did say. And then he would say something like, "How are you so sure you're remembering correctly? Why are you always right?" Um, and he definitely said the things that I heard him say and other people heard him say.

So, he had, now at this point, weaponized the safe word and was using it to ensure that I was hurt and on a constant basis. And he wasn't sorry anymore. Um, I couldn't even tell you the last time he had apologized for doing it anymore because now sometimes he would bite me and I would yell out the safe word because it hurts so bad and he'd clamp down even harder and, just for a second, just for good measure, before letting go and sometimes I'd say the safe word and he'd grind his teeth down on my skin and sometimes he'd smile after, um, like a gloating grin?

And during this time I was filled with so much anxiety all the time that I was constantly nauseous. Gagging daily, um, on occasion throwing up because of the pit that was in my stomach. I never told him about that though. I was going and running away quietly to throw up in the toilet and rejoin our group of friends.

Um, but I felt so unwanted and ignored. Um, and I would tell him that and then he would reassure me that he wanted to be together and he loved me. He loved me more than I loved him, even. He would always insist that that was true, like the, "I love you." "I love you more," but he was like, really serious about it.

Um, and looking back, I do believe that the way I was swept off my feet at the beginning of this relationship was 100 percent love bombing. Um, and we were friends for a time. Um, at least people would have thought that, actually, but I use the word friend very loosely because, um, we had actually never spoke to each other outside of group chats we were in together when, like a handful of times throughout the, the whole time that we knew each other, um, but did not talk to each other.

So I wouldn't have even called him my friend until he found out I was single, waited a few weeks to reach out, and then we started a friendship and then that friendship turned romantic and then he made these huge romantic gestures. He wrote me the most beautiful love letter that I had ever read. Um, he called me his soulmate. He talked about "forever" one month in. He told me he hadn't been in a relationship in five years. He thought he could never find love again before he met me. He said he wanted someone to grow with. He wanted to be a dad. He had all his names picked out and I didn't have a preference because I — My feeling of it is that the timing is right and with the right person, I could, um, but if that doesn't work out in time or the time, you know, I, I'm not super pressed about it. Um, but I started opening my mind up to the idea with him because it seemed so important to him. And I kept trying to talk to him to figure out where he was, later on, when I could tell things like, were declining.

And, um, now all of a sudden he's telling me he's not sure he wants kids at all. In fact, he has never been attached to the idea of kids. Um, and I told him that isn't what he said before, and he said he's allowed to change his mind. And I'm of the opinion that in a relationship, there are a few things that you are not actually allowed to change your mind without letting your partner know.

I think that kids is one of them. It wasn't even important to me. Um, and I think marriage is one of them, so I brought that up next. And I asked if he still wanted marriage. He said he wanted to marry me. And then he said, now, "I'm not the co-" quote, "I'm not the commitment guy. You know that."

I didn't know that.

Why are you dating me?

In fact, he was telling me the exact opposite every day. Uh, he would tell me he still wanted to be together. He wanted to work on all of the problems. He wanted to, like, he wanted me at the end of everything. He did not want to break up. He made that very clear. And uh, I have though, caught him in lies before, but usually it was small stuff and I, again, I didn't want to, it wasn't anything that ever seemed worth rocking the boat over, uh, which isn't normal for me.

I hate lies. Um, and yet I ended up lying for him. So, uh, but he had lied about big things and he had also been caught lying by his friends numerous times. So this is something that he feels is acceptable to do. And everything reached a breaking point when he was about to leave for an extended period of time.

We were not going to see each other very much, a few days out of every few months, um, and now suddenly he is dumping all of these problems that he has been having feelings about all of this time later. Um, at one point he said he's been feeling this way a couple of months. At another point, he says he's been feeling this way for six months, immediately contradicting him- contradicting himself in the same conversation.

And with no time to do anything about it. I arrived — the one of — Never mind. I'm gonna get to something later, but I literally arrived for three days for this conversation to happen and then leave. Um, my cat just woke up and she's not usually awake right now — Hi, my love. It's really close to her dinner time. I should have fed her early.

Um, so no time to fix any of the problems all the sudden because there are three days before he leaves and he insisted he did not want to break up. He, and so, he was expecting me to have a solution somehow, magically, and I gave a number of solutions that would have a way forward for us to be together, but he refused to make any compromise, um, whatsoever.

And he said that "the relationship was starting to feel like a responsibility," towards the end. Also his words. Um, so it wasn't a responsibility the whole rest of the time to him. And he was at this point, basically flaunting that he would never prioritize me over anything. Um — she's eating my laundry. Please don't cause problems. — Um, and I wasn't even asking for literally even the bare minimum. I was asking for so little and he — I was watching him give exactly what I was needing in the relationship all over the place to anybody else who, who just happened to ask and just wasn't me. So, um, and he also, he was never going to prioritize me over anything that would give him more fame or money.

In fact, he said that himself. He, uh, that was exactly why he was not going to compromise at all for a solution for us to be together. Because he said he wanted to see how much fame and money he could get. Um, and I just thought we wanted to be together. I thought that's what we both wanted, because that's what he was still saying he wanted to.

Um, but then he also admitted to me that he had grown resent- uh, he had grown to resent me. And I have to be thankful that he said that bit out loud. A lot of these bits he said out loud. Because that was the last push that I needed to get myself out.

He had grown resentful, which I also pointed out that there was no reason. Like, there was no reason to feel that way and he admitted that there was no reason for him to feel that way either. I think that it was because I'm someone who can communicate how I feel. Um, but, I don't know, I think, there, I have a lot of theories and reasons why I believe things happen the way that they did and why he was lying all of the time.

Um, but, he was "resentful" of me, was causing me physical harm every day, multiple times a day, despite me telling him over and over again to stop. He wasn't going to change, and he wasn't going to end the relationship. He was going to keep hurting me, and it was possibly going to escalate even further. So I broke up with him.

And I didn't even want to. Um, because I couldn't even see for such a long time after, um, what it really was that had happened. That he had abused me. And, in fact, we left things as, we want to be friends, and he can never imagine not speaking to me again. Um, and then he never spoke to me again. Uh, outside of like a couple of exchanges where I needed to ask for my clothes to be shipped, um, so at least I got my clothes back, uh, I had a whole closet full.

However, uh, he did throw away all of my other things, uh, without saying a word to me about it. Hundreds of dollars of things from my office were trashed without a word, and I didn't block him till ten months later because I wanted an open door still. I really thought I wanted to be his friend. Um, but, uh, I don't feel that way anymore.

I do believe he was bottling up so many emotions, uh, and he would never talk about how he felt. Um, I, I think he even, I mean, he did admit that he felt like he couldn't say it any sooner. Like, there was just no possible way to say how he was feeling sooner than the absolute last possible chance. Like, not even a chance, because three days before he left, that was actually a lie too, also.

He didn't leave for another week after I left. He, he brought me in, had this three day conversation, he was supposed to leave, and then he stayed for another week before he left, uh, with all of the friends that I was also meant to see, but he had lied to me about the dates too.

Um, but I do believe that there, uh, that he was bottling up so many emotions that he was taking it out on me physically. I believe there was a moment where he knew that he didn't want to be in the relationship anymore and instead of just ending it, he tried to push me away any way he knew would hurt me. And he knew all of the ways that would hurt me the most. And he knew he was hurting me. There was no way that he didn't know because of the safe word that he made.

Uh, and he just didn't care. He was hurting me and he didn't care. And even looked like he was enjoying it, sometimes. Um, and I can look back now and I can see all these instances that were really major red flags. Um, there was this one time that he pinned me down and asked me to try my absolute hardest to get him off of me.

And I couldn't do it, obviously. And he said something to make the point that he was so much stronger than me that I wouldn't be able to fight him back. Fight back against what? What do you mean? You don't say shit like that to people? That's insane. Um, and I was also sexually assaulted by my first boyfriend, and he knew that.

Um, he had stopped giving anything to the relationship, and he said that why was because he "was just waiting for things to change on their own." Um, he said he also "didn't have the time or energy anyway to do the things that I was asking for." Um, but then would constantly make any bit of time and energy for anybody and anything but me.

Uh, and he would say he wanted more quality time, so then I would try to arrange things for us to do online because we were, uh, long distance, but then he would complain that he doesn't want to spend all of his time on the computer anymore. Uh, and then we'd be there in person and all he wants to do is stay inside, play games on his computer, watch movies. He doesn't want to go out.

Um, and I'm not saying any of this next part to be mean, um, he lived in filth like I have never seen, and I've seen filth. This was the worst. Uh, he would spill things on the floor and never, literally never clean them up. Uh, he got an ant infestation once, um, and wasn't going to do anything about it because he said, he said "Bugs are normal in British houses," um, so I had to buy Antkiller. And he wouldn't clean his bathroom for months, and months, and months, but would constantly complain about how bad it smelled, and I would tell him, that's mould. It's mould. He complained about being tired all the time too, which I don't know if that was a lie or not, but mould will do that too.

But he would insist that it wasn't, somehow, without having cleaned in months. But it's not mould. Um, when I met him, he was washing his clothes without detergent. Um, just, he wasn't using that at all, and I don't know for how long before I met him. He was just running it with water and then hanging it on his filthy kitchen cabinets.

Um, and I felt bad. I felt bad because I felt like he needed someone to help him learn how to be cleaner. I thought he just didn't know how and I listened to all of the struggles of his upbringing and I was like, "He just doesn't know how. Someone just needs to show him." Um, and then I found out that he said he doesn't clean at all when I'm not there because he just waits for me to get there to do it.

Um, and I only found out about that after we broke up because he said it behind my back. Uh, I was doing all of the cleaning and laundry for him. Also, I had a separate bathroom. I want to make that clear. I wasn't using that bathroom. I had a separate bathroom that I cleaned for myself. I had cleaning supplies. I don't think he even actually knew I had cleaning supplies in there. Um, but I had my own bathroom.

Um, all the, all the cleaning, all the laundry. All of it. I was paying for. All of the, um, like paper towels, like soap, all of that only stayed in the house so long as I was buying it. Um, I would arrive and there would just not be toilet paper in the whole house. There were paper towels instead. And who knows for how long, too.

Um, I was paying for food more than half the time. Uh, because he would often push me into ordering food for us even if I had paid for the last meal, or the meal before that. Um, and I'm of the opinion now that I shouldn't have been paying for any food. Um, none at all, but I wanted to at least, I thought I was being equal by at least doing like a back and forth. Um, but, uh, I ended up paying for food more often than just going back and forth anyway. And he would do this to his friends all the time too. Um, but I was also paying for every plane ticket and the cat sitter, which cost roughly the amount of a plane ticket to England.

Um, and he never offered to help me pay after the couple of times he did come here to visit me because he paid for the flights that we would both take. Um, but that only happened twice at the very beginning. I have actually had a friend tell me that, that this is financial abuse, but I don't know enough about that to say for myself, but I was telling him that I couldn't afford it, uh, all by myself all the time because I was losing money. I was never able to work properly there and he wasn't traveling at all to see me anymore, even though he said he would. Uh, that was like the basis of our entire relationship starting off. Um, so then he agreed to pay for the cat sitter so that it would be basically paying half the cost of my travels. Um, and he did that once, and then never did it again, uh, despite many more months of dating.

Uh, and I was traveling often. Um, I had to. Because he was worried that we weren't spending enough quality time together. And then all of the time that he would have ever extra, he would choose, choose, to not spend it on me because there was an available choice and he chose not to spend it with me. Often.

Um, and I did everything short of just up and move there, which I was willing to do the whole time. And I told him that I was willing to do it and he knew, uh, but he insisted that I don't. He insisted not to. He was planning to move here. That was supposed to happen first.

Um, and then at the end of the relationship, he said, "Maybe things would have been different if I lived there." If I lived there. Uh, like I had said I would the whole time and he insisted I don't. Maybe that could have saved the relationship. Um, and I say all of this because I believe that people like this are genuinely dangerous. I believe he is dangerous.

Um, he was willing to lie. He was willing to do harm to someone he claimed to love more than anyone he has ever loved. Uh, his actions escalated, um, and I don't think that I'll be the last person that he hurts. Uh, and I felt like sharing my story was really important to warn people. Um, I want people to see the signs that I refused to.

I want you to listen to your body. Um, and get out as soon as possible. Tell your friends the truth and let them help you.

Um, I really thought I, I couldn't — Because I had been sexually assaulted in a previous relationship, I just thought I was so much smarter. To never — and I was like, "if someone ever laid their hands on me, I'd leave immediately. It would never happen a second time." But you, you just, it just kind of happened so slowly over time, and got worse, and worse, and worse, until the point where there's no way to deny the fact that he was hurting me and he knew, and, and didn't care.

That's just the kind of thing that I keep repeating to myself when I'm like, "But was it bad enough? What? It wasn't violent enough." Um, but I was being hurt multiple times every single day. Days, and days, and days, and days, for a month at a time in a row, uh, and I'm not even speaking on most, because I did touch on other things, but I am not even speaking on most of the other things that, in my opinion, I do think that there are some things that are across a line that make you a bad person.

I don't think that most people can be defined in a black and white, you're good or you're bad, but I do believe that there is a line that you can cross and only bad people will do the things on the other side of that line. You know what I mean? Um, and I watched a couple of things cross that line. And I just, I, I truly feel now that my soul is so healed.

Um, I am light years beyond him. Uh, this was the last thing that I felt like I needed to do — That's my cat. — Um, before I could move forward and hopefully never talk about him ever again. Outside of maybe my stories that I want to tell about other shitty things he did. Anonymously mixed in with the other stories I still have of shitty things that shitty exes did.

Because I think it's important for us to share our stories and our experiences. I think it's important for all of us to know that we deserve so much better than this. Um, and I think that if people don't want us to talk about the shitty things that they do, then they shouldn't do shitty things. Um, and this just felt so important to share.

I always wanted to share my experiences. I always will. Um, and that's kind of it. That's it. That's the end of everything I prepared. I reserve the right, uh, entirely to change my mind later and tell every story I want to, um, but for now that's all I really have, I feel like, from my soul, I want to speak on. Because I think that this can help other people.

I think that it can help other victims. Um, I have already talked to a number of — I only cry now when I'm talking about my friends! Who also dealt with such shitty things from shitty people. Um, but I'm also so, so grateful for all of my friends who were through, uh, with me through this whole thing. And my friends who also were experiencing similar, similar sorts of situations, um, at the same time, and we kind of went through it together. So, um, I think they are the strongest people in the whole world, and they made me feel like the strongest people in the whole world today. Did I call myself people? I meant person. I feel like the strongest people — I did it again. — I feel like the strongest person. They made me feel so brave. I felt impenetrable today. Um, but I am gonna go now because my friends are coming over and we're immediately gonna go become distracted by watching Love Is Blind. I already watched all of it already and I don't care.

So thank you, um, for listening. Thank you everyone who gifted subs. Um, um, I am going to be taking, uh, the rest of the week off from streaming. I have a video going out on Saturday and I'll be back next week and, uh, you won't hear about any of this again for a while, probably. But, uh, thank you all. I don't really even know what to do now. I think I'm just going to end. Um, go spread love all over the place on Twitch right now and I'll see you guys later. Bye.

Wilbur's response:

In the past week a series of allegations have been made over my conduct from an ex-girlfriend. I want to emphasise that, although I feel it fair to offer my perspective, this person's feelings are completely valid. I have taken my time sharing this statement as I wanted to process and respond respectfully and with the hope to gain a deeper understanding for the situation.

During our relationship's final months, I regrettably became slobbish, disrespectful, and selfish. These actions caused a lot of pain to my ex-girlfriend and I've since sought therapy to address these behaviours, making significant lifestyle changes to rectify my past actions. I have come to realise how much my past behaviour hurt this person, but I truly, compassionately believe I have made great strides from the person I once was and hope I can continue to grow and improve on this trajectory.

The allegation of abuse, particularly in the form of biting, deeply shocked me. Throughout our relationship, I understood from our numerous conversations and text message exchanges on the subject, that this behaviour was consensual, playful and reciprocally enjoyed. I truly believe those personal message exchanges reflect mutual affection and understanding. Out of respect for her, I choose not to publish them and I emphasise my perspective is not shared to diminish or invalidate anyone's feelings. Instead I share it in the hope that I can offer a genuine, fair and relevant insight into my understanding of the situation. While I may perceive our interactions differently, I recognise that this person has processed and expressed feelings of hurt. I want to extend my sincerest apologies for any pain that I caused.

I am fully committed to understanding and addressing her concerns going forward. I hope my perspective sheds light on this situation without detracting from its message. I am dedicated to earning and maintaining the trust of those around me and hope I continue to be held to these high standards I wish to attain and maintain.

- Will

Shubble's response:

i could not have imagined what i would wake up to today. my ex pretending he thought i enjoyed being hurt... and all of my friends immediately coming to my defense. The support has brought me to tears, i don't even know what to say. i'll be back, i'll just be taking a little time

and for the record, i don't accept the apology

#shelby #shelby shubble #wilbur situation #Youtube

347 notes · View notes

sheisjoeschateau · 1 year ago

Text

"Oh, so we DO love Steve..." | PART III

⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

CHAPTER WARNINGS: mega plot-driven smut ahead in this part of the story. you've been warned. MINORS, DNI. 18+

***

Despite everything, you and Steve both get through battling Vecna. You both grin and bear it. You both set aside your differences when the moment calls for it.

Just like you have before. Many times.

And in the midst of it all, you can't help but wonder about your uncle. How he's doing. If he's somewhere in his bunker still, hopefully drinking less (ideally, not at all) and keeping up his phone calls with Joyce. You'd told her to keep tabs on him, and you also told your uncle to keep tabs on her. They needed each other. You had the kids and the teens, but they needed each other. And sure, your uncle has you. Always. But you have to work, and babysit, and hang around a guy who hates your guts because the circumstances won't permit otherwise.

Eddie and Robin really stick up for you. They do. They really like you. Steve can’t stand it.

Even Nancy doesn’t mind you. Honestly, she’s scared of you more than anything. Steve doesn’t care.

The kids love you. Steve won’t make them hate you. He never would. But he won’t endorse their kind sentiments about you either.

More groups are formed, along with more plans. Scary, life-threatening plans.

You stay behind with Dustin and Eddie, knowing that Steve is quietly a basket case over the concept leaving Dustin alone without having him there to protect him from all this shit, the way he has before. With the demodogs, the Russians, and everything up to this point. That kid is his brother. His son.

It’s the only time that Steve tells you thank you.

And he sincerely means it.

By the grace of some unspeakable force, you manage to not only keep Dustin alive...but also Eddie. The bats have done their damage, and you've got some damage yourself. Though not nearly as bad as Eddie. You can withstand yours with adrenaline and the sheer need to protect one of your kids and get this metalhead back to the real world so that he can get proper medical attention.

When Steve and the girls all get back to the three of you there, after all the shit hits the fan - you, Steve, Nancy, Robin and Dustin all manage to get Eddie back across the gate and get him majorly patched up. Thanks to Dr. Owens.

You keep Eddie hidden at Murray's bunker. You're shocked to find it empty, your worry growing more every single minute. But Steve tries to assure you that your uncle is likely fine, probably just out to eat or something. However... even he knows that is not true. Murray does not go anywhere.

"Bauman," he's saying to you, softly. So softly. Softer than he's ever spoken to you once. "He's gonna be okay. I promise. We're here, alright?"

Two days later, Jonathan and his Cali crew all show up. Nancy and him are reunited.

And you watch Steve break.

He doesn’t let it show, not really. But you see it. Both you and Robin do. You let her comfort him. He needs his best friend, much more than he needs you. Especially in this situation. You are undoubtedly the last source of comfort for him in this specific instance.

You reunite with your Uncle Murray, who has returned with Joyce and — to your surprise — a very much alive Hopper. It’s a beautiful reunion, as you all hug tightly.

You all fucking lived, bitch.

Given the new flurry of debris-snow-shit in the air, you all end up having to take shelter.

Steve volunteers his house, given that his parents fled to their vacation home and he told them he wasn’t going. They ditch him, so he has the house all to himself. This time, he doesn’t have to be alone though. He has his real family.

You all move into the Harrington House. Lord knows it’s big enough. But it’s also really tight, for two people who can’t stand each other unless there’s a really ugly monster guy waltzing around that needs to be killed along with his multi-species army of little uglies.

Given the close quarters, on top of the fact that you all can’t leave the house much unless it’s for supplies, you and Steve have no choice but to coexist.

He still resents you, especially seeing Nancy and Jonathan are now getting along again and seem to be doing better. But it's much more subdued now, and you both find a way to talk. Which happens mainly because of you, initiating.

You learn more about Steve's home life, given the pictures everywhere throughout the house. They're all pretty stiff, lacking warmth. You figured that Steve was a pretty lonely trust fund baby, and being that you're a lonely child you can relate to the loneliness that comes with that. Not the trust fund part. Just the only-child-syndrome part, which you know perfectly well forces you to either become very well acquainted with yourself...or hate yourself even more. Steve clearing did not lean into becoming his own source of reliability and companionship, the way that you did. And it made you understand him better. It made you understand why he needed to be around the likes of Carol and Tommy H. He did not know how to be alone with himself.

"I think my dad and I don't even like the same beer," Steve scoffs, allowing himself a humorless chuckle. You don't laugh with him, instead giving him a soft look. An apology with your eyes.

"And my mom, she just...I dunno. Sometimes, I wonder why she never left him."

You let Steve reveal as little or as much as he wants to. It just depends on the day.

The two of you watch out for the kids. You both go with them to visit Max in the hospital. You even initiate finding a way to get her to stay there while in a coma, thanks to enlisting the help of your uncle to help enlist the help of Dr. Owens. The kids love you for that.

Steve doesn’t love you… But he appreciates you.

A lot. He's beginning to find appreciation for you, for a lot of things.

Your uncle clocks the very niche tension between the two of you, now that you’re all under the same roof and he’s given no choice but to.

And damn, it makes him curious. He is, after all, the witch doctor of love…

Nevertheless, Murray takes his time choosing when to strike.

As you and Steve both help nurse Eddie back to health, and read to Max in her coma (which leads to both of you just simply talking), and make the kids laugh together, and even make conversation with Nancy and Jonathan (…it’s very double date ish) Murray watches his niece — and mannnnnn, is he amuuuuuused.

One night, you and Steve stay up to share some drinks with the adults. It’s the first time that the two of you actually make each other really laugh, heartily. The drinks help.

That’s sort of Murray’s plan. Vodka is, after all, the holy grail.

Even Eddie joins, along with Robin. But Steve sits next to you. Not his best friend, or the new friend he’s made in the metalhead. Nope, he sits his perfect, hunky ass that makes all the ladies drool right next to little ole you.

And damn, do you both laugh.

Murray’s never seen you laugh that hard with anyone in his life. He wonders if you’ve ever laughed that way at all.

And the way that Harrington looks at you? Especially when you’re not looking… Holy shit.

And the way you look at him the same way... makes Murray grin ear to ear like a mischievous kid with the plan to wreak havoc.

Hopper and Joyce are so settled into their relationship, and Jonathan seems to be winning back the love of Nancy. Eddie and Robin are so single it hurts, but it's legendary too. And you? Steve? Well, you guys are mortal enemies. And yet somehow, sitting here in the Harrington's living room with glasses of chilled vodka, belly-laughing over anything -- you and Steve exude more chemistry than all of them combined.

So when everyone goes to bed, and Murray catches you alone, he grills you. Not like the others. Nah, you’re family. He’ll cut you some slack.

…not much, though.

It sobers you right up.

"Do not tell me for one second that you don't think he's gorgeous," your uncle is saying in a low voice. You're both standing in his bedroom, having fetched him a tall glass of water which turned out just be a way to fucking lure you into his witchdoctor trap.

"I love you Uncle Murray. I really do. But this theory? -- is not one of your other bullseye's."

"Face it, kiddo," your uncle is smirking. "Your uncle's never wrong. You're just never the one on the other end of his lectures when he's making astute observations. You're always contributing to it. But this time? You're the leading lady, darling."

"False."

"You like Steve."

"Murray...!"

"You like Steve..."

You try to tell your uncle that everything he is saying is nonsense. Steve hates you. He absolutely hates you. Loathes and despises you, and plans to do so until you’re all particles of dust.

“Plus, he is so fucking annoying and whiny and entitled and has zero self respect unless it’s up against someone who calls him out for his shit,” you tell your uncle, gesturing to yourself on the last part. “Steve Harrington is a cocky guy who would just rather suffer in his own misery than ever see or lean into being this...this incredible man that he's...capable of being, the role model he has become to those kids, who love him, they love the human most deserving of being put first —”

.................

…oh fuck.

The silence is deafening. Murray’s smirk and all-knowing glare only adds to your being aware of what you just said to him, and admitted to yourself, out loud.

“Oh…oh so we do love Steve.”

Your uncle’s words are the cherry on top of the cake you just baked, and didn’t know you had the ingredients to make.

You don’t sleep that night.

***

The next morning, you and Steve both sit with Max.

"Wondering what she wrote in yours?"

Steve is nodding at the stack of letters on the bedside table. You all left them there, promising yourselves not to open them. Because she will wake up.

Lucas took it hard, Max dying. You'd been there to hold him, comfort him, along with Steve. You both watched him burst into tears numerous times, sometimes sobbing uncontrollably, despite the fact that she was somehow still here. It broke both your hearts, but you both got through it with him. Together.

And while the other kids were taking it hard too...so fucking hard...it was Steve who carried the most guilt. Remorse, anguish and guilt.

"I failed my kid," Steve had told you at the hospital once. You looked at him with a furrowed brow and concerned eyes.

"Steve, no you didn't."

His voice shook, eyes drowning in nightmarish thoughts. "I wasn't there for her. I wasn't -- wasn't..."

"You could never fail those kids. Not even if you tried."

He didn't believe you. But he wanted to. You had squeezed his hand that day, sitting in the waiting room. And to your surprise, not only did he let you...but he squeezed it back, letting your hands rest that way for an hour as you fell asleep in the seats before being woken up.

And now, sitting in one of his guest rooms while Max lay asleep in the coma still, you can see that guilt in him is spreading.

Steve is holding the letter that she gave to him, and you ask him if he’s wanting to read it.

Steve snorts. "God, you kidding? She'll wake up just to kill me before going right back to sleep."

You smirk, biting back a real laugh. “True.”

But Steve looks conflicted. He fiddles with the letter in his hands, wanting to tear it open. You know that he does.

“…want me to read it out loud to you instead? She can kill me in your place.”

Steve chuckles at that.

...but he doesn’t say no.

In fact, after biting his lip for a minute and thinking, he finds himself nodding. Yes. Please, read it to me, he’s thinking.

So you do.

You take the letter and read it to him. You read him the words that only a little sister could write to a big brother who she loves and wishes she will grow up to be like. You read him words that make him light up like a Christmas tree, yet cause him a painful ache deep within his bones. You read him a letter of love that no one ever took the time to write, let alone express, to him his entire life.

Steve fights tears. He bites them back, successfully. You’re the last person he ever wants to see him vulnerable. Hell, he can’t even see himself like that without judging his own self harshly. He can only imagine that you will, too.

He doesn’t know, though, that not only would you never judge him for that. But selfishly, you wish he would feel safe with you. Or God, someone at least. Just not Nancy. Someone who deserves him wholeheartedly.

"Steve," you speak softly.

He's staring into space, zoned out. But then, he finally looks over at you. He sees the kindness in him, and it almost takes his breath away. The way that you look at him...he just never thought you could...that you could --

"You're all of these things. Everything she wrote in this? You're all of it. And then some. You're the hero all those kids dream of being when they grow up. You're their favorite person. The one they trust, go to for everything. Even if you don't think that they do, they do."

He listens, unable to move. Speak. Breathe.

"You are...a great person, Steve Harrington."

***

That night, there’s a knock on your door. You’ve been given the guest room upstairs with no bunk mate. Unlike most of the people in the house. But given that Joyce and Hopper are together now, and El sleeps in Max’s room to keep watch, the four younger boys share a room with Eddie, Nancy is with Jonathan, Erica sleeps at her own house and Robin shares Steve’s room since she splits her time here and at home — you and Murray got the solo rooms.

Steve is now grateful for those sleeping arrangements tonight.

Because when you open the door, he’s on the other side. He looks sad, conflicted and lost. Like his mind is racing at a million miles an hour, yet can’t think of anything to say. He’s tongue tied, just staring at you expectantly…

What is he expecting?

“What’s wrong?” you ask. “Is it Max?”

Something about your question makes Steve brows pinch together. Like it’s suddenly confusing him even more. But he doesn’t speak.

You wait patiently. But truth be told, you are anxious as fuck. Because damn, he’s pretty. He is so stupid pretty. And fuck it’s annoying. His lips are just the right shape in a pout, and it’s really fucking annoy —

His lips are crashing into yours before you can even finish dissecting them.

Steve is kissing you like life depends on it. Gentle at first, but eager. Determined.

And when you both pulls back -- you don’t hesitate for more than a solid 2-3 seconds, your eyes shocked while his eyes silently ask, is this okay?

Your lips crashing back against his answers — yes.

Steve is a hurricane of both madness and all things serene in the ways that he touches your body. He explores your skin with his lips and hands, as if he has all the time in the world. The curve of your jaw and neck. The jut of your collarbones. The feel of your clavicle, which leads him to the shape of your tits and nipples. He cherishes your body, hungrily exploring it. It’s heated, hot and heavy. He licks a stripe down your abdomen to the waistband of your sweatpants. The way his brown irises look up at you, all round and doe eyed, makes the back of your throat groan with need. It’s not loud or brash, nor is it strained and quiet. It’s soft but certain. Steve melts at it, his fingers curling one by one around the band of your sweatpants, his eyes still asking — please?

You’re nodding without even having to hear a word out of him. And Steve pulls.

Euphoria is the feeling of Steve’s tongue exploring your folds. It’s the sound of him sighing into your portal in pure pleasure, and the way he sucks your clit with fervency yet flicks it with supple patience. His hands knead into your thighs, one of them reaching to squeeze your hips so that he can pull himself up to you and let you taste yourself on his tongue. He wraps an arm underneath your waist, hooking you to him, asking in the breathiest of whimpers, “Please let me, angel.”

He’s getting a fistful of your hair into one of his big hands, adoring the way that you squeak a yelp. You suck on his tongue, hard, and it’s enough to drive him mad. He pins himself against you, grinding. But you sit up, keeping your bodies glued together and now using your teeth to tug on his lip and paralyze him in pure ecstasy. You take the opportunity to slide your teeth and tongue down his jaw and neck, trailing pecks and kisses along the way, and the throaty whimper he lets out makes you see stars behind your hooded eyes as you drag your tongue down his chest. The wet stripe you’re leaving glides down to his toned abdomen’s bunny trail, and as you curl your fingers around his sweatpants, you pause… letting your lips press the most fluttery of kisses to each of his scars.

Steve can’t help the shudders, sighs and whimpers that escape his lips, along with your name. It’s raw, uncensored. He clutches your hand, which you extend up to him in a greedy grab as you slowly work his pants down with your other hand. You hook your fingers onto his chin, forcing him to let go of your hand in his and look down at you. He does, and it’s game over. You watch him and never break eye contact as you use both hands to push down his briefs…

…and thank God for that — because otherwise, you would see just what you’re up against as far as pleasuring him goes.

You feel the tip of his hard length tap your chin, and you scoot farther down into the mattress — on your knees like a perfect angel. Your tongue plays with its head, tasting the tang of his pre-cum, and Steve is shaking so hard he can’t stand it. He clenches his jaw, gritting out blissful curses through his teeth. “Fuck, baby, fuck.”

You take in the intense length of him, pleasuring him until he is touching the back of your throat and nearly gagging you senseless, and the mess he is up above you — it sends your mind into a tailspin. He has never looked so pretty, eyes squeezed shut except when he’s glancing back down at you with more fondness and adoration than you ever thought possible from not only a man who hates you…but any man at all.

And when Steve is just about to cum, he begins to beg. “P-please. Wait, please.”

His hands urgently cup your jaw, forcing you to look back up at him and cease your sickeningly perfect work. He pulls, and you follow. He drinks you in with his gaze, staring into your soul, as if he’s trying to figure you out. He stares and stares, his thumbs stroking your cheeks, his brown eyes searching yours like you are the most beautiful mystery he has ever needed to solve. He looks as though he might ask you something. Say something...

But he dives in to kiss you again before he lets himself.

His hand wraps around the bend of one of your knees, tugging it up so that he can hook your leg around his waist. Then he does it to the other. And before you know it, you’re straddling him.

“Fuck, Bauman, please,” Steve Harrington groans into your mouth. Then softer, murmuring against your lips as he kisses them endlessly, “please let me, please.”

And you know what he is asking. You know what he wants. You don’t have to even think twice. Lifting yourself up, lining him with your entrance, he stretches you out and the euphoric sting of it sucks the air right out of you. And Steve.

Steve is winded by the feeling of how tight your walls are, and by just how right it feels to be inside of you. You both fit. Like a perfect match.

At this point, you’re both a frenzy of fucking. You ride him – slow, hard, fast, all of it. Steve keens into your mouth, then your neck as he buries his face there — completely overwhelmed. You hold his head there, comfortingly and securely, and so fucking perfectly as your fingers tug at the ends of his perfect hair.

“I’ve got you, baby,” your voice shakes in a breathy whisper, just for him. “Let it all go.”

And Steve does. His fingers dig into the curve of your back, pulling you impossibly closer to him as he presses the loud growl of his climax into your bare shoulder. He releases himself into you, hot and loaded, and you drip just as much onto him as he just shot into you.

As if that wasn’t enough to send you reeling — enough to make you see angels and devils and god — it’s the way that Steve shudders against you, catching his breath…and then pulls back to look at you…that renders you speechless.

His hairline leaks sweat, his face beaded with it. His eyelids are hooded, the dark brown irises dazed and daring to meet your gaze. His lips are parted perfectly — and the way he looks up at you with his tousled hair, somehow still perfect after it’s been pulled and messed with, is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Steve Harrington is so fucking beautiful. He’s an all-American boy, yet a Greek god.

The way that Steve gently brings your forehead to his, breathing against you, closing his eyes at the contact — you find yourself timidly nuzzling the tip of your nose to his. And you feel him smile against you, opening your eyes just enough to steal a peek — and that’s when you feel a deep ache in your heart and soul that might as well kill you.

Because now you realize. That is love.

Steve is love.

But you let it die inside of you tonight, not wanting to make this moment end any sooner than it has to. Instead, you let Steve entangle his limbs with yours, not daring to ask if he wants to stay. Because if you do, he’ll likely leave. He’ll realize that being in bed with you is the last place that he wants to be, and that he’s made a mistake. He’ll go back to hating you, more than he already does, and it will be the death of you. So instead, you just let it ride out however it’s supposed to.

You try not to count the minutes as Steve absentmindedly traces circles with his fingertips on your skin. Your hip bones, your shoulder blades, your spine. You tell yourself to forget that time and its limits exist as you stroke the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck, your temple against his forearm, his outer arm draped over you. You tell yourself that this is it. This is heaven. This is eternity. You tell yourself even if you wake up and it’s just a dream, you’ll remember it for as long as you live. Because on the other side of death is this, and it will never end.

You let that ease your mind as he presses his lips to your forehead and you no longer fight sleep.

So when you do wake up…and find that Steve is still there…you’re shocked. But you stay that way until he wakes. He looks at you in awestruck wonder. Not confusion or regret. Just…wonder.

He props himself up on an elbow, still looking at you, deep in thought. All you can do is stare back, wishing you knew what the hell he was thinking but not daring to ask. It wasn’t worth risking this. You stay that way for a little while.

He finally breathes a sigh, whispering, “Kids will be up soon.”

You give him a soft smile and gentle nod. You can already see Dustin waking up to go knock down Steve’s door, and that’s…not gonna end well if he finds out that Steve is walking out of your room instead.

Steve contemplates god-knows-what for another long moment before pressing a quick kiss into your hairline as he rises.

You watch him stand and dress himself, your heart throbbing at the way he looks in the early morning light streaming through the windows. His body is god-like. Tall, lean and athletic. His skin has the most beautiful constellation of moles that put the entire galaxy of stars to shame. And you ache at the thought of never being able to touch them again.

He gives you a soft grin after he throws his t-shirt back on, and before you know it he’s gone.

You lay there staring at nothing, feeling yourself leak a couple of silent tears and wondering why. You find yourself afraid to get up and face whatever new reality lies ahead of you on the other side of that door.

***

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tags: @erastourvip @xprloki @get0ut0fmyr00m @eddiemuns0nl0ver @marrowfrog00

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington stranger things #dustin henderson #murray bauman #enemies to lovers trope #they're in love your honor #Murray is a schemer #sorry stancy

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