#or trying so hard to stay away from them bc its what he knows

[rosenbergamot]

has anyone done a life series timeloop au. just any of the life series. im cooking up a secret life one but i also want to read some….. is there anybody out there cooking as well….. im shaking the bars of my enclosure!!!

[coryndoll]

routledge!reader x rafe, after big john comes back and finds out that both of his kids are dating the camerons, he gets mad, especially at his daughter, cause he thought that she wasn't thinking straight. After a few days, he throws a stupid comment about rafe when they were with the rest of the pogues and reader just snaps at him. pure angst now 🥰 she realises that he's never been a good father, only caring about treasures and yells that she wishes he never came back. Then goes to rafe, crying, for comfort 💕 (i love angst im sorry.)

hold me close

rafe cameron x routledge!reader

warnings: angst, swearing, a kiss, pretty safe !!

authors note: OKAY ik thats trevor n not rafe but erm, we’ll pretend bc that pic is what gives the energy for this oneshot. anyway hii, hope u guys enjoy this one. feel free to send any requests guys! n thank u for 1k followers yesterday. ilyasm <33

you sit in the backyard, the soft hum of cicadas filling the warm night air. the pogues are just behind you, laughing and talking in a huddle. it feels good to see them like this again—normal, for once, after everything.

after the chaos of the last year, of treasure hunts, betrayals, and close calls. you’ve always tried to stay out of it, letting john b and the others chase after the gold while you lived your life. but eventually, you couldn’t stay on the sidelines, not when rafe got involved, not when it became a matter of life and death.

it’s been hard, being stuck between two sides, torn between your brother and your boyfriend. but tonight, you just want peace.

you glance over at your dad, sitting a little ways away from the group, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied grin on his face. big john routledge—alive, after these three years. you still can’t believe it sometimes.

he looks different, a little more worn, a little rougher around the edges, but the way he carries himself hasn’t changed. he’s still larger than life, still full of stories, still your dad. and god, you missed him.

he catches your eye, and for a moment, it’s like nothing has changed. like you’re just a kid again, sitting with your dad, listening to him talk about his crazy ideas, his wild adventures.

“you know,” he starts, leaning forward, “i remember that time you and john b tried to catch that fish out by the dock, and you both fell in. i swear, i thought i was gonna have to drag you two out myself,” he says, chuckling to himself, shaking his head like the memory is some long-lost treasure of its own.

you smile, even though it feels a little bittersweet. “yeah,” you murmur under your breath.

you pull at a piece of grass by your feet, your fingers absentmindedly tearing at it. you’ve waited so long for this moment—for him to come back, for your family to feel whole again.

but now that he’s here, you don’t know what to do with it. you can’t shake the feeling that something’s changed, that he’s not just the dad you remember, but something else entirely. still, you can’t help but feel like the little girl who always looked up to him, who wanted nothing more than to make him proud.

“i never thought we’d see you again,” you mumble, your voice low, barely above a whisper. you don’t look up from the grass, your fingers still picking at the blades, but you can feel his gaze on you.

“i never thought i’d be back either,” he admits quietly. “but i couldn’t stop thinking about you two. every day out there . . . i thought about coming home.”

you scoff softly, a bitter smile pulling at your lips, even though you don’t mean for it to. “but you didn’t,” you say, barely above a whisper. “you didn’t come back for three years.”

he shifts in his seat, his fingers tapping against the arm of the chair. “it wasn’t that simple, y/n,” he says. “i was trying to protect you. there are dangerous people out there, people who want what we’re after. i couldn’t come back until i knew it was safe.”

you nod, but it’s a hollow gesture. you’ve heard it all before from other people—the excuses, the treasure, the danger. it always comes back to that.

you glance at your friends, laughing and sharing stories with each other. you’ve spent so long trying to push this life aside, to live outside of the mess of treasure hunts and betrayals. but it always pulls you back in.

“yeah, you always did put the treasure first,” you murmur as you face forward again. you’re not even sure if you mean to say it out loud. it’s more to yourself, just a thought that’s been living in the back of your mind for too long.

“don’t do that.” he leans forward, his voice soft, almost pleading. “i did it for you and john b,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “for our family. i wanted us to have something—something big, something that would change everything.”

“yeah, but we didn’t need that,” you say, your voice small, but firm. you’re still pulling at the grass, twisting it around your fingers. “we just needed you.”

he doesn’t say anything for a moment. it’s like he’s trying to figure out what to say, but there’s nothing that can fix the years of distance. nothing that can make up for what you lost when he left.

there’s a long silence, and for a moment, you think maybe this is as close as you’ll ever get to understanding each other. you don’t want to fight tonight. you just want to sit with him, to pretend that things could go back to how they were before.

“so,” he starts again, his tone shifting back to playful, like he’s trying to lighten the mood, “you and john b teaming up with the others to chase down treasure? guess it runs in the family.”

you laugh, but it’s a little forced. “yeah, well, i tried to stay out of it. but . . .”

“but what?” he presses, leaning forward with a smirk. “got a little taste of adventure, didn’t you?”

you glance up at the marsh, a faint smile on your lips. “something like that,” you mutter.

but you don’t mention rafe, don’t mention how he’s become a part of this tangled mess, how hard it’s been being caught between him and your family. you’ve already told your dad the day you reunited a few days ago in barbados. didn’t end well that time either. you don’t want to ruin the moment, don’t want to start another fight.

but, as if the universe is reading your mind, your dad shifts the conversation in a way that makes your stomach drop. “just promise me,” he says, suddenly serious, “you won’t let that rafe cameron kid get too close. he’s no good, y/n.”

the words hit you like a slap, and for a moment, you just sit there, staring at him. it takes you a second to process what he’s said, to even understand the casual way he’s dismissed rafe, like it’s nothing. like he’s nothing.

“and i hear john b’s with sarah now, too?” his tone shifts, bitter and disapproving. “so now both of my kids are wrapped up with the camerons. hell of a choice you both made.”

you freeze, your stomach tightening. there it is. you knew it was coming, but it still hits you like a punch to the gut. it’s not the first time he’s made a comment about rafe, and you thought you were doing the right thing confessing what’s changed since you last saw him, but now he’s dragging john b into it, and that makes it worse. so much worse.

“dad,” you start, trying to keep your voice steady, but there’s an edge to it, a warning. “don’t.”

he shakes his head like you’ve said something ridiculous. “no, i am gonna say something. sarah, rafe, they’re cameron’s kids. ward cameron’s kids. you’re smart enough to know better than to get mixed up with people like him. they’re bad news. always have been.”

“yeah, but they’re not like him,” you snap, your voice sharper than you intended. “sarah’s not ward. rafe’s not ward. they’re not their father.”

he just laughs, but there’s no humor in it. it’s harsh. “you really believe that?” he asks, shaking his head again. “they’re camerons. it’s in their blood. you think you’re any safer with rafe than you were without me here? because i’m telling you right now, you’re not.”

you stand up, your hands balled into fists at your sides. you’ve heard enough. for days now, you’ve listened to him make little digs about rafe, about the camerons, and you’ve kept your mouth shut. but tonight, it’s too much. you can’t keep it in anymore.

“three years, dad. three years you were gone, chasing your stupid treasure, while we were stuck here. john b and i had to figure it out on our own. so don’t stand there and act like you have any right to tell me who i should or shouldn’t be with.”

big john looks at you, stunned, like he’s seeing you for the first time. but you’re not done. there’s too much you’ve kept bottled up, and now it’s all spilling out.

“you care more about that gold than you ever did about us,” you say. “you care more about treasure than you do about being a father. you don’t know anything.”

big john’s face hardens, his jaw clenching as he stares at you. “i know enough,” he says, his voice cold. “i know who the camerons are.”

“yeah?” you snap, your voice breaking. “well, maybe if you’d been here, you’d actually know something about me too.”

you turn on your heel, ready to storm off, but the moment you move, you notice it.

the pogues are silent now, all of them watching. sarah, jj, pope, kie—they’re still, their conversations dropped as they stand there, wide-eyed and uneasy. john b, though, he’s just sitting there with his can of beer held low in his hands, lips pressed together. you can tell he’s heard it all before. he’s not going to step in because he knows you need to let it out.

you’re just done with it. you take a step forward, ready to leave this backyard and the suffocating tension behind. but something stops you, a feeling gnawing at your chest, pulling you back. you hesitate, turning just enough to glance at your dad over your shoulder.

he’s still staring at you, his expression set like stone, as if he’s waiting for you to say more, to take it all back, maybe. but you won’t. not now.

your voice wavers, but it’s steady enough. “i wish you never came back.”

his face doesn’t move, but something flickers in his eyes. you don’t wait for him to respond. you turn away for good this time and walk out, leaving the backyard behind.

before you know it, you’re at rafe’s house, your knuckles rapping against the door almost frantically. you pace, glancing down at your phone, watching as the notifications keep coming—texts from john b, a few from kie, and even jj. they're all asking the same thing: ‘ where are you? ’ or ‘ are you okay? ’

you drag your hand down your face, trying to ignore the tightness in your chest. before you can get lost in your thoughts, the door swings open, and there he is.

rafe stands in the doorway, his expression unreadable. he leans against the doorframe for a second, his lips slightly parted, taking you in. you know he’s already pieced together what’s happened from the voice messages you left on the way over. not that he’s the type to acknowledge it with some grand gesture or comforting words.

he doesn’t say anything, but he steps aside without much ceremony. you slip past him and leave your phone in the foyer, tossing it carelessly on the side table as you pass, the pinging of messages finally fading into the background.

you make your way down the hallway, not even sure where you’re going, but your feet carry you to the living room. rafe follows close behind, his presence looming, but not overbearing. his eyes are trained on you, watching as you take in the dimly lit room. there’s a bottle of whiskey sitting on the coffee table, a glass next to it, already finished. it’s so rafe—quiet, controlled chaos.

you stop, your breath shaky, your chest tight, and before you can hold it back, everything comes spilling out.

“he doesn’t get it, rafe. he just doesn’t fucking get anything,” you start, your voice louder than you intend. you turn to face him, your hands gesturing wildly as you try to make sense of the mess of emotions coursing through you. “i mean, he’s been gone for years, and he comes back, and suddenly he thinks he can just . . . control everything? like he gets to have an opinion about my life after everything he’s done. he doesn't even know me anymore.”

rafes eyes are fixed on you, and he’s listening, letting you get it out. his jaw twitches slightly, but he stays silent, just watching as you unravel in front of him.

“and it’s like . . . it’s like no matter what i do, no matter how hard i try, it’s never enough! not for him, not for john b, not for anyone!” your voice cracks, and you press your palms against your temples, trying to hold yourself together, but the tears are already brimming, threatening to spill over. “i didn’t ask for any of this. i didn’t ask to be stuck in the middle of all this shit with my family and you and . . . god, it’s too much.”

you turn away from him, your breath coming out in shallow gasps now as you try to steady yourself. but it’s no use. you’re falling apart, and it feels like the weight of everything is finally crushing you.

before you can say another word, rafe steps forward, his arms sliding around you in one swift motion. “alright, alright, c’mere,” he murmurs, his voice soft but firm. “c’mon.”

you collapse into him, burying your face into his chest, the tears coming freely now. he holds you tight, his chin resting lightly against the top of your head as his hand rubs slow circles on your back.

rafe’s not one for words, and you don’t expect him to be, but this—this is enough. the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way his arms keep you grounded, it’s enough to make the world stop spinning for just a moment.

you don’t say anything else. neither does he. the silence stretches on, but it’s not uncomfortable. for once, you feel like you can breathe.

even though he’s holding you, his mind seems elsewhere—his jaw clenched, muscles rigid beneath the surface. it’s not hard to guess where his thoughts have drifted, especially after everything you told him in those voice messages.

you can tell he’s upset. not just because you’re upset, but because of what your dad said—about him, about his family. his body is stiff as he holds you, and you know him well enough to see the silent anger simmering just beneath the surface. his eyes aren’t on you; they’re somewhere distant, staring past you as if he’s imagining your father’s words in his head.

“i’m sorry about what he said, rafe,” you whisper into his chest, feeling the way his breathing shifts, more shallow now, controlled. “he said something about sarah and john b, too.”

he doesn’t respond right away, but you feel his hand pause against your back, fingers pressing a little harder. for a moment, it feels like he might pull away, but instead, he just tightens his grip on you. his silence speaks volumes. rafe is the type to internalize everything, to let it fester until it boils over, but you can feel it now—the tension thrumming through his entire body.

“doesn’t matter,” he finally mutters, though you can tell by the way his voice is low, that it does. “it’s nothing i haven’t heard before.”

you pull back slightly, just enough to look up at him, and his eyes flick down to meet yours. they’re darker than usual, clouded with frustration, but he still tries to soften his expression for you.

“he doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” you say quietly. “he doesn’t know you.”

for a moment, neither of you speaks. rafe’s hand resumes its slow, steady motion against your back, though the tension hasn’t fully left his body. you can feel the war going on inside him—the part of him that’s angry, defensive, but also the part that’s trying to be here for you, to let go of his own frustration long enough to comfort you.

“fuck him,” rafe mutters after a long silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “he doesn’t get to talk about you like that. or me.”

there’s a dangerous edge to his voice now, but you know it’s not directed at you. he’s angry, not just at your dad, but at the situation—the impossible mess you’ve both found yourselves in, caught between your family and his.

“i don’t care what he thinks,” you murmur, holding onto him tighter. “i’m here with you. that’s all that matters.”

he doesn’t respond, but his hand moves to the back of your neck, his fingers curling gently into your hair as he exhales, long and slow, like he’s finally letting go of whatever was eating at him.

for the first time tonight, the room feels quiet as the two of you stand there, wrapped in each other’s arms.

you’re gazing up into his eyes, searching for something—comfort, understanding, maybe a little reassurance. your hands find their way up his shoulders, one resting gently on his collarbone while the other slides higher, rubbing the area around his ear and jaw.

“you know that i love you,” you murmur, your voice soft but steady, as if the confession can dissolve the tension still hanging in the air.

rafe stares down at you, and in that moment, you can see everything in his eyes. he’s never loved anyone more than he loves you—the way you stood your ground against your own dad tonight, defending yourself and defending him and his family. it’s a vulnerable space, one he doesn’t often let himself occupy, but with you, it feels different.

he nods, pressing his lips together as if trying to hold back a flood of emotion. then, with a sudden urgency, he leans down and kisses you deeply. the taste of whiskey lingers on his lips. it’s a kiss that speaks of everything unspoken.

but just as quickly as it begins, he pulls away and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. you close your eyes into the gesture, feeling the warmth of his lips linger against your skin.

rafe goes back to resting his chin on your head, his breath steady as he holds you close again. you breathe in his familiar scent, a mix of sea salt and something distinctly rafe, and let the silence wrap around you like a comforting blanket.

in this moment, nothing else matters. not the fights, not your dad’s harsh words, not the stupid tangled web of family and expectations.

just you and him, together, holding onto each other for as long as you can.

[strwberri-milk]

Hello, I love ur LADS works <3. Can i request the boys on the day of their and reader's wedding, their reaction to first seeing the dress and their vows in the current timeline. Tysm 🩷

i literally wrote this entire thing and then tumblr deleted it so im so MAD - wrote this w/ reader being g/n bc what if you wanna wear a sick pantsuit to your wedding, focues on the first look/vows!! but i dont write vows bc i dont know the touch of another human also very very slight references to myths you dont need to know them to read this/its not really a spoiler

Zayne took an active role in your wedding planning because you wanted him to. You know he's got his preferences and even though he bends to your will a majority of the time you know that you want as much of his input as possible.

A part of him honestly wanted to be there for you to pick out your clothes for the wedding. He wanted to spend the afternoon telling you how amazing you look and how excited he is to marry you but he knows it would make you much happier to surprise him on the day of. Besides, he has a reputation to maintain as a professional doctor - crying in the changing room is not conducive to such an image, you tease.

The day of the wedding he focuses on the empty space in front of him. He doesn't want to look at the walkway until he knows your day, knowing that the anticipation of your presence would just make him cry. Unfortunately for him when it's finally time for him to meet you at the alter he immediately starts crying. He doesn't even notice that tears are sliding down his face until the officiant hands him a tissue.

You can't help but tease him a little for his reaction but you're crying just as much, bringing a hand up to wipe away his tears as you laugh. He leans into your touch, the two of you sharing a quiet moment until it's time for the two of you to say your vows. His vows are concise yet affectionate, detailing the moment he knew he loved you. It's a day that's just out of your reach, one that you can't remember but one he clearly looks upon fondly.

When it's time for the two of you to kiss he steals the breath out of your lungs. He kisses you hard, passionately as a reminder of how much he loves you. You can't help but blush a little at how intense the kiss was but the way he looks at you is even more intense, thanking you for giving him the opportunity to be loved by you.

Xavier was always happy to give you his opinions for the wedding whenever you asked for them. He might not have a strong opinion but he does definitely have one, telling you that he wants but that he's also happy to just go along with whatever you want. All he cares about is that he's marrying you.

When you come down the aisle he can't take his eyes off of you. He's had a determined look throughout a majority of the ceremony, one you recognise from moments of intense focus whenever he's working. It's his default for trying to stay calm throughout the day, waiting anxiously for you at the alter. Now that you're finally here the look on his face softens, smiling at you as he watches every step you take to him carefully.

His vows are simple, swearing to protect you for the rest of his life. Somehow, you get the sense that he's spent a lot of time working on the words, his speech more formal and elegant than you're used to but it's still perfectly him. He smiles at you softly the entire time, his absolute adoration for you obvious as you listen.

When he kisses you it feels like the first time. He holds you delicately, hands cupping your face as he whispers another "I love you" against your lips. He tells you how excited he is to finally be your husband, promising you again that he'll always be by your side.

Rafayel went all out for your wedding. Anything you wanted he got for you, no questions asked. Surprisingly, he actually didn't have very many wants for the ceremony himself, constantly telling you that as long as you're happy he's happy. The only thing was he really wanted to design your wedding attire, wanting it to perfectly match is. You had to fight him for it, telling him it'd defeat the purpose of it all being a surprise. You end up compromising by allowing him to pick the fabric and pattern - that way you two could still match but he doesn't know what the final product looks like. Besides, he already designed the wedding bands so he wasn't too upset about losing this battle.

His eyes are glued to the head of the aisle, waiting for you to come down it. The second you appear his eyes start watering just the slightest, wiping his tears as he waits for you to come to him. His breath feels like it's been stolen out of his lugs, taking your hands in his when you finally stand across from him. His vows are memorised so he doesn't bother to reach for any notecards.

He promises you the world, telling you that he'll be waiting for you until all the seas in the world dry up and even past then. His words are ardent, almost feverish as he devotes his entire being to you, reminding you time and time again that as far as he's concerned, his life means nothing to you.

After the two of you kiss he buries his face into your neck, holding you tightly as his vows continue. They're simple yet just as devoted, Rafayel telling you that right now, his words are just for you.

Sylus, like Rafayel, spared no expense for your wedding. He has less opinions about the whole ceremony and tells you that whatever you need to make you happy then you have to get it. As long as you want it, you'll have it.

When he sees you for the first time he's rendered speechless. He's got a good poker face though so to everybody else, they just think that the smirk on his face is a warning to you of what's to come but you can see the softened arch in his brows, the way his lips are just the slightest bit downturned in anxiety. You reach out of his hands, laughing softly at the fact that they're shaking. Nobody can tell but you, keeping your hands in his so he has something to ground himself to.

His vows for you are hushed, barely heard by the audience since as far as he's concerned, they're promises that are only for you. He loves you more than anything, and he swears that he'd never do anything to hurt you for as long as he lives. He promises that he'll go along with all your schemes and love you with all of his heart - even though that comes to him as naturally as breathing.

The audience is surprised to see such a soft version of him come out in public, the look in his eyes when he sees you making them all melt. He kisses you softly, holding your face in his hand as he makes sure you understand the depth of his feelings for you while he swears his life to you.

[stevesherdaddynowlover]

waiting for a girl like you [s.h.]

an: hiiii so this is a lil something based off this ask!!! i hope this is kinda what you meant bc this is what came to mind and i just ran with it!! but lmk!! and feel free to send suggestions and i hope you enjoy

summary: steve thinks you’re made for him and that everything has led to you, and thank god for that.

no warnings just fluff and a little cursing!! steve being so horribly terribly down bad

wc: 1.8k

masterlist here!!!

Steve fell in love with you the way they do in the movies. 

One day it was just him and his friends, taking each day as they came and trying to make it to the next. He’d go to work, drive everyone around—mindless shit that kept him occupied. 

And then one day you were there. He remembers when he saw you for the first time vividly, probably because he played that moment on a loop inside his head for weeks. He still does sometimes. Compared to all the crazy shit he did it was something so mundane it made him laugh. He’d been walking to his mailbox when he saw a moving truck across the street and 2 houses down, movers filing in and out and he remembers how he’d turn to go back in, not at all interested in being the neighborhood welcoming committee when he saw you. 

Well it was a flash of pink that caught his eye and had him walking briskly back to his mailbox, letters and bills shoved behind his back so no one saw he’d already gotten his mail. There you were, a pink t-shirt that hugged your body just right, a sliver of skin showing between where the shirt ended and your jean shorts began. You were stunning and if Steve thought you were pretty, he wasn’t prepared for the wide smile you gave him when you noticed him staring, hand going up in a friendly wave before you lifted a box from the back of the truck and went inside. 

He thinks a little part of him fell in love with you right there, your bright smile and soft looking thighs enough to make his heart race and palms sweat. 

But he had no idea what was coming for him with you. 

It was a few days later that he saw you again, this time at the movie theater where you just so happened to work. Steve didn’t know this, he swears. And everything would have been fine if he didn’t have such a big mouth on him. The whole group had decided to go to a late night showing of some movie he hadn't heard of you and what gave him away was the way he stopped and gasped when he saw you behind the snack counter. 

See, Steve had spent the last few days going on and on and on about you to his friends. Granted most of them were kids a few years younger than him, but regardless he still droned on. So when they walk in and see Steve staring slack jawed at a pretty girl, it doesn’t take much to piece two and two together. 

The lot of you are only a few feet away from his new neighbor when one of the kids—Dustin he thinks—opened his mouth and had Steve smacking the back of his head a little too hard to be a joke. 

“So that’s the pretty neighbor girl you’ve been talking about for days?” 

“Henderson, I swear to god.” 

Steve cursed loud enough for you to hear, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking a deep breath so he didn’t do something stupid. Dustin’s voice carried, unfortunately, and they all heard the way you’d snickered after he spoke. 

He’d basically had to drag his feet up to the counter, a blush working its way from his neck up to the tips of his ears as he tried to avoid eye contact. Everyone else stayed a few feet back, knowing that they’d pushed Steve enough for one night and would hang back and watch him suffer his way through buying snacks. 

“Pretty neighbor girl, huh?” Your voice held a teasing note that had Steve scratching at the back of his neck and sending you an awkward smile. He couldn’t do more than shrug, seeing how pretty you were up close for the first time was doing little to help with the embarrassment he was feeling. 

His brain was begging him to say something, anything! He wasn’t a stranger to girls, to charming them, but with you standing in front of him it was like his vocabulary had been wiped clean. 

He opened his mouth but nothing was coming out, brain on overdrive and yet, nothing! 

Even though he wasn’t saying anything, just kind of going back and forth between staring at you and staring at the popcorn machine behind your head, he watched the way your face stayed amused, intrigued by him almost. Your smile never faltered and your eyes seemed to be light as you looked at him. 

“I love a good staring contest but did you wanna order anything?” 

His jaw clenched at the laughs coming from behind him, smile grim as he ordered way too much junk, spent even more, and practically threw the candy at their heads behind him. 

Once he’d turned around he didn’t look back, embarrassment washing over him from head to toe. He felt nauseous for many reasons. One, you were fucking gorgeous. The type of pretty that he felt in his fingertips and that made his chest hurt. Two, he’d just made a complete and utter ass of himself in front of you and he wouldn’t be surprised if you never looked his way again. And three, he’d al—

“See you around, pretty neighbor boy.” 

His feet froze, body turning slightly to meet your gaze and he thanked god everyone else was far enough ahead that they hadn’t heard you. When he looked back you were perched behind the counter, leaning forward with your chin in your palm and a twizzler in your mouth, showing your teeth to him when you bit down and threw him a wink. 

Looking back he thinks—no he knows that he was fully in love with you then. And he had a sudden craving for twizzlers. 

———

It’s been almost a year and a half since that day at the movie theater—the best year and half— and as Steve watches you now, his chest feels warm and light. You’re laying on his bed in his favorite blue t-shirt and a pair of ankle socks, on your stomach with your legs bent at the knees, feet crossed and swaying in the air while you write in your journal. You’ve been going at it for almost an hour now and Steve is in his desk chair a few feet away, everything else forgotten as he watches you. 

He smiles to himself at the way you frown in concentration, staring down the words in front of you hard as if you’re writing the nation’s top secrets, and maybe you are. He sees the way you pause every few minutes to shake out your wrist where it’s getting sore from scribbling away furiously and he wants to come over and kiss it gently, kissing away the furrow between your brows too. 

The both of you kind of just fell together after that night at the movies. You’d see each other outside—Steve took to getting the mail every day now—passing each other in the mall or sending each other small smiles when Steve would come in for a movie, alone. And he’d be there once or twice a week after he found out you worked there. 

It went from seeing each other every few days to somehow being in the same places at the same time. He’s not sure if it was fate or coincidence or just pure luck, but he was grateful all the same. 

Bumping into each other turned into a date and one date turned into two and now you didn’t go without seeing each other for more than 24 hours. Always on the other's hip or you in his lap or him climbing through your window late at night. You’d become almost obsessed with each other and the group had welcomed you with open arms. You fit in beautifully and that mattered to Steve more than he’d ever admit to those little assholes. 

You must have felt him staring because he notices when you’re peeking at him through the corner of your eyes, pen tucked between your lips as you turn your head to look at him. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be doing something productive over there?” 

“Oh, I think I am.” He’s smug when you roll your eyes at him, amusement written all over your face. You always pretend like he gets on your nerves but he knows better, sees the way your lips quirk and your cheeks tint. He knows you love it, knows you love him. 

“What am I gonna do with you, Harrington?” 

“Marry me, I hope.” 

“Not if you don’t let me finish this, I won’t!” 

It’s not the first time he’s brought this up, and it certainly won’t be the last. He loves the way your eyes widen every time, a gasp falling from your lips as you curse at him, telling him to shut up. He might love to tease you with it but he’s never been more sure. Yes, you’re both young and while he’d love to marry you right here and now, he’ll wait. He’d wait until hell froze over for you, he thinks. 

The thing is Steve’s had relationships before, quite a few. None as serious as his relationship with Nancy, not until you. But he wouldn’t call any small relationship or fling he’s had meaningless, they were far from it. They all had a part in shaping him, helping him grow into who he was today. Was he proud of all of them? No. Proud of some of the things he’d done in the past? No. 

But those people, those things—even the shitty things he regrets—made him who he is. And that guy you love. They changed him, for better or worse, to be the Steve Harrington he is today. The Steve that’s watching you blush on his bed that you spend more time in than your own. The guy that has you. You, who’s wearing his initial on a chain around your neck proudly. 

He had to spend a lot of time working on himself, bettering himself even when it didn’t feel worth it at the time. But it’s all worth it now. Every breakup and makeup and loss and ass beating he took is all worth it when he looks at you. 

As cheesy and cliche at it sounds, he thinks you were like the missing piece to his life. You swooped it and everything fell into place and suddenly he wasn’t so worried about shit that didn’t matter and was focused on things that mattered like being around people he loved and caring for those people.

He knew as soon as he saw you that you’d been worth the wait, worth the shitty few years he’d endured and put others through. You made him good, whole. 

“Love you, ya know?” You always asked him, made sure he felt your love and support. He thinks he’d be lost without you. Fuck he knows he would. It’s nice to know someone’s in your corner unconditionally. It’s a feeling he’s still getting used to but will cherish forever. 

“Love you back, baby.” 

[dckweed]

Not sure if you're doing top gun requests right now, but if so, here's one. Rooster with a girl who is helping penny at the bar on a super busy night and there is some rowdy group who keeps calling her over and staring at her, and eventually they go too far and try to grab her but she just knocks one of them clean out and as the guys (hangman, fanboy, etc) is taking care of them, rooster takes her away bc she was about to go crazy on them lol. He's just like "that was so hot but you don't need to go to prison tonight."

baby i am always taking top gun requests. ooooh i love this idea so freaking much, thank you for choosing me to send it too, i absolutely do love it when you guys send things!

please note that i see every request that comes in and i am getting to them one at a time! with that being said, feel free to send one in!

anway, how are we all doing today? are we staying hydrated?

warnings: drinking, violence, inappropriate groping and harassment, bar fights, established relationship with rooster!

"BITCHLESS & DICKLESS' bradley rooster bradshaw x fem!reader

It was a busy Friday night at the Hard Deck, you and Penny the only two working and barely able to keep up with the constant flow of customers coming through, it only seemed to get even more crowded and rowdy when a small group of sailors fresh off the base come through, taking up a couple of the tables near the juke box. They signal you over and you make your towards them, order pad in hand incase they order more than just beer.

"Hey guys, how can i help you?" You ask, your voice upbeat and a smile on your face. It was sticky hot outside and you knew your shirt was clinging to your skin because of it, you tried not to feel too uncomfortable with the obvious way two of the men were staring at you. "Eyes up here, fellas." You say, giving a playful angry look. You were used to being looked at, it kind of came with the job title of bartender, but that didn't mean that it didn't make you uncomfortable.

One of the men cocks a smirk at you, leaning back easily in his seat. "They'll have a round of Budweiser," He says, his eyes not leaving you once as he gestures towards his friends. "and i'll have your number, sweetness."

Before you can open your mouth to object politely, one of his buddies beats you to it. "Hey, Hanks, give some of us a chance with her damn." He chuckles flashing you a smile.

"How about none of you get a chance?" You say sweetly, laughing with his buddies. "I'll be back with the beers in a minute." You shake your head, walking back to the bar. You grab six cold beers from the ice box and start putting them on a serving tray.

"Those boys gonna be trouble?" Penny asks, maneuvering her way behind you with a few drinks of her own. You hadn't realized that she had heard the interaction.

"No, they'll be fine." You shake your head, glancing back over at the table as you pop the tops off of the bottles one by one. The one that had asked for your number, Hanks, was staring at you and talking to the rest of his friends at the same time. His gaze unsettled you, but you carried on with your job anyway. You make your way back over to them, planting your serving smile back on to your face as you start handing out their beers. "Alright fellas, let me know if there's anything else i can get you, okay?"

"That phone number is still wanted, honey." Hanks' friend says, taking a sip from his bottle. He shoots you a wink and manspreads in his chair, you perk an eyebrow at him. What was it with navy boys being so goddamn persistent?

"I'm sure it is honey," You say, your voice a little more stern on the matter this time around. "but my boyfriend sure wouldn't appreciate me giving it out to random navy boys that walk into my bar." You turn to head back towards the actual bar, where you see Penny starting struggle.

"I don't see him around, im sure what he don't know won't kill him!" Hanks voice calls after you, its almost admirable how persistent they are, it was afterall one of the more endearing qualities about your boyfriend when you first met him, although you had to say that he hadn't been nearly as uncomfortable as these boys were.

"Oh he'll be around!" You call back over your shoulder, not noticing that at that moment said boyfriend and his group of friends had walked through the front door of the bar. You didn't notice them for quite a few minuets, giving them plenty of time to get to their usual seats as you worked on the fresh wave of customers at the bar, mixing drinks and handing them out almost mechanically.

After around twenty minutes or so Bradley comes up to the bar, standing directly behind you, your back turned as you pour beer from the tap. "Here you g-Bradley!" You exclaim excitedly, nearly spilling the beer in your hands before you hand it to the man standing next to him.

"Hey baby," He says, his voice gruff and hoars, tired. He gladly accepts your kiss as you lean across the bar for it, pressing his lips against your own. He was still wearing his flight suit, and still covered in sweat, and a quick glance towards the others told you everything y ou needed to know.

"Rough day?" You look at him, eyes questioning as you get to work making their drinks. Whiskey neat for Jake, Scotch on the rocks for Bradley and Natasha and a pop for Bob, your favorite sober companion most evenings.

"You could say that," He says, a deep sigh leaving his chest as he watches you, already feeling more at ease. You didnt pry any farther, knowing he would tell you all about it in bed that night. "When are you off?"

You pout, coming around the bar with the drinks on a serving tray. "Not until nearly closing tonight," You say, walking with him towards the others. Bradley studiously takes the tray from you, ever the gentleman even on his roughest days, his arm brushing your shoulder as you walk. "Hey guys," You greet, giving Jake and Bob your usual friendly kiss on the cheek, and with a giggle you give one to Nat too when she taps hers and gives you a lopsided grin. You could tell by looks on their faces that they all needed a dose of happiness.

"Where's mine?" Bradley whines, hand on your hip possessively. You roll your eyes at him but lean up to kiss his waiting cheek anyway, adoring the small smile that tugs at the corners of his lips.

"Awe come on Rooster, you get her all the time, let the rest of us have some." Natasha says, causing you to throw your head back in a laugh, leaning farther into your boyfriend. Your laugh was infectious and the whole group lets out a chuckle, you watch their bodies relax afterwards. "Might want to keep em coming, Y/N , it's been a rough one.."

Jake looks somewhere behind you, eyebrows pinched, stare hard. "Looks like you're in need, Y/N" He says, raising his whiskey to his lips to take a sip.

You look over your shoulder, your eyes landing on the group of sailors from earlier on the other side of the bar. "Those guys again," You sigh, grabbing your tray off the table.

Bob grabs your wrist before you go, and you furrow your brow at him. "Are those guys giving you a hard time?" He asks quietly, he knew Bradley was already on edge as it was and didn't want him looking for a fight.

"Nothing i can't handle, Bobby," You say, ruffling his hair with a wink before heading off towards the group, putting some pep back in your step. "Ready for round two already, fellas?"

The night drags on quickly and slowly all at the same time, customers come and go, drinks are made and made again and carried out to tables. The two main groups being your Boyfriend and the rest of the daggers and the group of boat boys who become more rowdy as the night drags on.

Bradley is already uneasy with them as it is, catching them staring at you one too many times and asking for your number more than once, to which you studiously turn them down, looking his way as if asking for help. He knew he would step in when needed, but he also hoped that didn't need to happen, he knew Penny would talk to Mav and Mav would talk his ear off about it tomorrow on base.

Your patience had more than worn thin, and you were counting down the minuets until your shift was over, hoping that the last half an hour would pass without any issues. Your hopes were wrong though.

You were bringing the group of boat boys another round of beers and a couple of waters and were just picking up the empties and placing them on your tray when you feel it, a large, sweaty hand sliding up the back of your thigh and right up onto your ass, giving it a heavy squeeze. Your eyes widen. "You wanna lose that fucking hand?" You ask, voice gruff as you stand up straight. The entire table quiets.

"What? Fly girl over there is good enough to squeeze this thick ass but i'm not?" Natasha had playfully smacked your ass on her way to the restroom a short time ago, something the two of you had grown close enough as friends to do. It had made you laugh, but this? Oh this was an entirely different ball game.

You see red, and off in the distance you hear Bradley and Jake both yell and the sounds of chairs scraping against the floor as they all get up abruptly. Youve done it before they can even reach you though. The tray drops from your grasp, your dominant hand balling up as the sound of shattering glass reaches your ears and your fist collides with Hanks' face, right between the eyes. You feel a sickening crunch under the force of the blow and blood spurts out of his nostrils as he slumps down, you had hit him hard enough to knock him out.

"What the fuck?!?" Bradley is next to you, arm out protectively as his friends all stand from their seats, ready to brawl over what you had done, even though their pig of a friend had done worse in your opinion. "Y/N?"

"Bitchless and Dickless over there can't catch a fucking hint!" You yell lunging for his friend. Rooster's arms hold you back though before you can make contact with him, the entire bar watches you scream and kick at the sailor as your boyfriend drags you out towards the parking lot. "Fucking assholes! Squeezed my fucking ass!"

Surprisingly, Bob is the first to throw a punch. He had been watching the idiots mess with you all night long along with Rooster. And after their long ass day he was just as ready to fight as the rest of them, infact, he actually took pleasure in what he did. His fist collides squarely with Hanks' friend and Natasha drags the already semi conscious asshole across the floor after you and Bradley, Penny coming to help her.

"Jesus christ baby, you started a fucking brawl!" Bradley laughs, opening the passenger door of the bronco, shoving all of his stuff onto the floorboard as he sets you up on the seat. "That was so fucking hot," He says, hearing police sirens in the distance already. "You have no idea how bad i want to fuck you right now but i can't have you going to jail tonight, buckle in tight baby.." He says, closing your door before running around to the drivers side, the only the thought on his mind is getting you home where you're safe and in your guys' bed, preferably underneath of him.

[norrizzandpia]

Can you please write exes to lovers angst with lando

Y’all know the way to my heart with these angst requests

A Second Chance (LN4)

Summary: Secrets are a hard thing to live with, they always come out in the end. When it comes to Y/n and Lando, their loved ones struggle to understand what occurred between the two when both of them refuse to discuss it. What happened that night that warranted two people so in love to separate? What triggered Lando to become so violent, so hostile? Why is there a lone engagement ring lingering in Lando’s apartment when it’s meant to rest on Y/n’s finger? What’s happened?

Warnings: lots of fights, language, literal screaming matches, lando breaking y/n’s heart while he’s drunk, this ones hella rough when it comes to angst, whata rollercoaster, HAPPY ENDING THO YALL JUST BUCKLE UP FOR THE RIDE AND TRUST ME

Note: i decided to really play with y’all here because you don’t end up knowing what caused them to breakup until the very end, so enjoy 6,000 words of subtle hints and you on the edge of your seat bc I’m evil 😚

Some things were better left unsaid. That’s the mantra Lando repeated to himself every time he felt the urge to pick up the phone and pour his heart out to the girl he let get away.

Some things are better left unsaid.

Some things are better left unsaid.

Some things are better left unsaid.

He was sick of the words, wanting to rip them out of his mind, out of his mouth every time he uttered their syllables. His thumb laid so close to her phone number, he was frightened one wrong move would make the decision for him.

All he saw, not just in that moment but every moment, was her face as he spewed off words of anger, violent insults that held no truth to them.

He wanted to apologize, yearned to hear her breathing as he said the things he had rehearsed in the mirror for God knows how long. There was blood on his hands, her blood, the blood of her being when he killed her spirit and the character he had fallen in love with. He couldn’t live with that.

Couldn’t live with the knowledge he had destroyed the beauty of her happiness, the beauty of who she had been.

Selfish, maybe, but he called her anyway. Whether the apology was for her or for him, he wasn’t sure, he just needed to know she knew that he never meant for those things to tumble from his mouth. He never meant to tear her down when he had spent the entirety of their relationship building her up.

The ringing sounded, it blaring loudly in the quiet of his room. He stared at her contact photo, he never changed it. The picture was one his friend had taken of her as she gazed upon him at the Silverstone Grand Prix, when he got his podium. She was smiling up, looking at him as if he held her entire life right in the palm of his hands.

She had loved him, put her heart in his hands, and he had thrown it back in her face like he was disgusted by it.

His mind was taken back to the moment when, after one ring, the call went straight to voicemail.

Fuck it, he thought, I’ve already called her once.

So, he tried again.

One ring, then voicemail.

Again.

One ring, then voicemail.

Again.

One ring, then voicemail.

By the end of his calling spree, he was sitting up in his bed, the sheets falling down his toned chest as he stared at the brightness emitting from his phone. His fingers flew over the keyboard as he searched up why he was only getting one ring.

The answer that popped up stopped the world around him. He threw his phone down to the side, it falling harshly onto the floor. He stormed from his bed, ripping open his door and throwing on a random hoodie strewn about his couch. His eyes glazed over as he tied his shoes and left the apartment, beginning to run. His running was in vain, however, as he was only trying to run from the thing that got him into this situation. Himself.

The phone stayed behind, lingering on the floor with its screen cracked yet still displaying what had set Lando off in the first place.

The Google search engine painfully informed him of Y/n blocking him.

—

“How have you been since the breakup?” Max said softly, looking at his best friend with gentle eyes.

Lando looked down to his lap, “I’m doing fine. Getting by.”

Max’s quietness lingered like he knew something.

“What is it?” Lando asked spitefully, sick of feeling like his loved ones were tip toeing around him.

Max sighed, “You’re not sleeping.”

“How do you know that?”

“Life360 shows me where you’ve gone in the last twenty-four hours, Lando. It also gives me notifications when you leave your house. At first, I wanted to stay out of it, but you’re doing it every night, going to random parks and staying there for hours. What are you doing?”

Lando smacked his hand on the table out of frustration, strangers sat close to them glancing over suspiciously, “So, you’re monitoring me now?”

Max scoffed, “Yeah! Your family and your friends are worried for you.”

“Well, don’t.” Lando gave him a pointed look.

Max shoved his face into his hands, “It’s not that fucking easy, Lando. Everyone thought you two were going to get married. You had a ring. Then, all of a sudden, you two ended. The people that love you are obviously going to be wondering about you when shit like that comes out of left field.”

“You don’t think I know that?” Lando began, face heating up, “You don’t think I look at the engagement ring everyday and wonder where I would be today? Maybe engaged to her like I had always wanted? You don’t think I know this shit? You don’t think I have to live with it, sleep with it, exist with it?”

It dawns on Max as he listens to Lando’s every word, “You’re going for walks in the night? To get away from thinking about it when you’re trying to sleep? Trying to distract yourself?”

Lando’s eyes look down once more, “Running. I’ve been running.”

In a rare form of physical affection, Max leans over and lays his hand over his friend’s, “What happened that night?”

Lando flinches, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

His hand is heavy on top of Lando’s as he tries again, “Lando, I’m sorry, but I just don’t understand. What the fuck happened? When are you going to be comfortable talking about it? It’s been five months.”

Something fiery triggers within Lando and Max knows it’s the reminder of how long he’s gone without her, “I know how fucking long it’s been.”

At the gridded teeth and hostile tone, Max relents. He sits back in his chair just when Lando’s gaze is caught behind him. His head turns to see what’s got Lando and he’s met with a woman that looks identical to Y/n.

He breathes out, turning back around to tilt his head at his best friend. Max opens his mouth to say something, but Lando interrupts him by the loud screech of his chair being pushed away from him.

He watches in horror and disappointment as Lando walks over to the woman and begins flirting with her. That smile, which was once reserved only for Y/n, is now exploited to get one singular taste of something like her, however fleeting.

In no time, Lando’s trading numbers with her and returning to the table. He sees the way Max looks at him, an expression that makes him hate himself more, and picks up his things, “If you’re not going to support me, sit across from me and patronize me for everything that’s happened, then I’m fucking out.”

Max laughs in disbelief, “Lando, I don’t know what the fuck happened! Maybe if I did, I could actually help you instead of this fucked up coping mechanism you’ve developed of sleeping with women that look like her.”

Lando snarls at him, stomping off and out of the establishment, texting the new number he’d gained immediately and asking when they were free to come to his apartment.

Max watches him through the window, anger at him dissipating and worry taking over once more for the boy he used to know.

The waitress comes by and drops the check off, three digits staring back at Max.

—

“I TOLD YOU NOT TO INVITE HER!” Lando screams at Charlotte, nostrils flaring as he shoots daggers into her soul.

“WHAT’S THE FUCKING PROBLEM? CAN’T FUCKING FACE YOU EX OF EIGHT MONTHS?!” Charlotte yells.

Lando counters, “YOU KNOW I FEEL ABOUT HER! HOW I FELT ABOUT HER! I DON’T FUCKING WANT HER IN THE CROWD OF THE NEW CAR LAUNCH!”

Charlotte rolls her eyes, “WELL, GET OVER IT! IT’S HAPPENING!”

“I’M THE DRIVER, I RUN THE SHOW! I SAY SHE GETS TAKEN OFF THE INVITE, SHE GETS TAKEN OFF THE INVITE!”

“SHE’S ALREADY BEEN INVITED, DUMBASS! WE CAN’T RETRACT THE INVITATION NOW. IT WOULD LOOK BAD.”

“I DON’T CARE! FUCK, CHARLOTTE, THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!” Spit flies from his mouth, his volume so loud it jostles the walls.

Charlotte, being the strong woman she was and fed up with Lando’s recent behavior, fires back, “IT’S NOT MY FAULT SHE’S ON THE AUTOMATIC INVITE LIST! YOU KNOW THIS! GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR ASS!”

He lets out a loud grunt, turning around in the room like it’s closing in on him. He’s so in his mind as it suffocates him with memories of her, he steps toward the wall and almost puts his fist through it. However, right before his hand comes in contact, he hesitates.

He can feel Charlotte’s horrified eyes on him as he turns around, chest heaving from the unreleased anger. He can’t fully meet her stare, knowing it’ll break him further.

However, that doesn’t matter as she puts her hands on her hips and whispers, “Who even are you anymore?”

She slams the door on her way out and Lando can hear her lash out at his father, detailing how he needs to get his son in check if Lando wants any kind of continued future in F1. They go back and forth for a moment, Adam standing up for his son in a time where there’s no defending able to be done. His father reminds Charlotte of the relationship she’s cultivated with Lando, reminding her of how she once referred to him as her son, and she’s ready with her heartbreaking answer: he’s not the same person she once knew.

That gives Adam no room to fight back, silence overtaking the atmosphere for a moment before he’s entering the room. Lando sits on one of the many office room chairs, head hanging low as he picks at his fingernails.

Adam sits in the one closest to him, breathing slowly as he tries to gather what he wants to say.

“Lando, what happened that night?” He repeats, reminding him of the countless conversations they’ve had that started with that question and ended with Lando refusing to talk about it.

His son shakes his head, something dying inside Adam once more, “I told you. I’m not talking about it.”

A moment passes before Adam snaps, “Lando! I know you’re hurting and I’m so sorry. But, Jesus fucking Christ! You can’t go on like this forever! This isn’t healthy! She’s not coming back! She’s stopped communicating because she doesn’t want to hear from you! You’re going to need to move on sometime!”

Lando stands abruptly from his seat, his father’s words hitting him hard, “You have no fucking right to say that! You don’t know what’s going through her mind!”

Adam stands to get in his face, “No, but I do know you two were happy, she was happy, and you were in love, and then it was over! People don’t fall out of a love like that if someone didn’t fuck up royally!”

Lando moves to the door, “I don’t want to hear this anymore.”

Adam grabs his arm before he can leave, staring at him with a stone cold gaze, “You keep pushing people away, treating people like shit, and you’ll ruin your career.”

“Who said I even cared about my career anymore?”

—

As much as he hates it, Lando’s eyes immediately search for her once he and Oscar are let into the room. The new car sits under a drape, a crowd of people standing around it, and, even with all the exciting things around him, he looks for the greatest heartbreak of his life.

He wants to see how she is, see if her eyes are as sunken as his are, if her body is as thin as his. Yet, he fails to see her. He knows she’s here, having seen her acceptance of the invitation on the guest list.

He’s being pulled to the front of the room by PR members, their pushes making him stumble into Oscar’s side as he keeps his gaze locked on the sea of people in front of him.

Time goes by slowly, the ceremony moving easily with applause when Oscar and him roll back the material covering the racing car.

They’re in the midst of an interview, microphones held tightly in their hands as they converse with the reporter.

He’s still distracted, his eyes still searching throughout the party to see her, but he’s called back when Oscar nudges his shoulder, “Sorry, what?”

The reporter smiles, “You’ve just gone through a break up and it seems she’s here. Does that say you two ended on good terms?”

He cries of laughter in his head. The idea that they ended on good terms is the funniest thing he’s heard in a while.

He puts on his fake smile, though, nodding strongly like this isn’t a question that has broken his soul, “Yeah! Y/n and I still talk from time to time. She supports me and I support her.”

He feels as if Oscar is staring at him, as if the entire room is staring at him, as he lies through his teeth. Y/n and him haven’t spoken in a year, her having cut off all contact from the very beginning.

The interview continues, nonetheless, with the journalist accepting his answer without question.

Once they’re done, Lando feels sick. Sick of trying to salvage his image, sick of having to appear at these functions, sick of wanting her back and knowing she’ll never let him in again. He excuses himself quickly, mumbling about needing to use the restroom, before dashing off down an empty hallway and locking himself in a stall.

He sits on the toilet, racing suit falling over the edge of the porcelain bowl as he lays his head in his hands.

He breathes heavily, lungs not taking in enough air, and he feels as if the first tears are about to fall when the door opens and the conversation of two men floods through.

“They broke up, you know?” One of the men states as they begin looking at themselves in the mirror, Lando watching them through the cracks of his stall.

The other one nods, seemingly excited, “Yeah, I’ve never been happier. She’s so hot, we finally have a chance.”

Lando’s eyebrows furrowed together. Who are they talking about?

“I know, mate. I saw her tonight. I think she’s still here. You saw that orange dress she’s in? Hot as fuck. It really does justice to that body of hers.”

Lando grimaces at their words.

However, they continue, revealing more about their topic of conversation this time, “Yeah, one hundred percent. Y/n Y/l/n has never looked better. I saw her walk in and I was ready to fuck her instantly.”

The color drains from Lando’s face when her name slips past their lips, their previous words having an entirely different impact on him now. He sees red at their vulgar words, pulling himself from the stall and walking out with a dangerous, cold air to him.

The two men stop quickly, looking at each other in the mirror when Lando sidles up in between them. Beginning to wash his hands, he makes eye contact with both of them.

“Having a nice conversation here, boys?”

The two of them gulp, clearly nervous at the man’s presence. They say nothing, rather letting Lando continue.

“You know, we may not be together anymore, but that doesn’t mean she’ll get with you two. She has standards and, after being with her for five years, I can tell you: you two aren’t it. Keep dreaming, though, yeah? That’s how I got to where I am now, making millions of dollars a year and such.”

He waltzes out, throwing out the paper towel he had grabbed in the middle of his words and nodding at them.

Suddenly, as he stands in the quiet hallway, his demeanor has shifted. He feels lighter. Consciously, he doesn’t know why, but, subconsciously, he knows it’s because he just asserted his dominance over her, his possession. Reminding the two men of how long he was with her, how long he had her, a duration of time they’ll never see, mended his pain for a minute or two.

It comes back quickly, though, when he turns the corner and runs into the infamous papaya colored dress that had laid on the floor of his bedroom many times before. He halts, so does she, and for a moment, the two of them keep their eyes trained on the other’s clothes, not wanting to look up and face something they aren’t ready to face.

Although, cruelly, that moment inevitably comes and Lando’s breath is taken from his lungs at how radiant she stands before him. His eyes trail over her face, the tape that was once holding his heart together now ripping apart at the sight of her. She seems strong, looking at him in a removed manner, as if she truly isn’t there with him at the moment.

His hand hovers over her bicep, fingers tingling as they plead with him to touch her.

“Hi, Lando.” His name falling from her lips, sounding soft and warm, reminds him of why he knew her coming to this, seeing her, would ruin whatever kind of progress he had developed in the year they’d been apart.

His mouth opens, then closes, and he struggles to get words out as his mind races with all the things he wishes to say. Knowing everything he’s tried to tell her is not meant to be said in a place as open as this, he settles for, “Hi, Y/n.”

She smiles at him, completely different from the fury in her features the last time he saw her, and mumbles out, “How have you been?”

He takes a leap, “Been better.”

She ignores it, “Listen, I need to go to the bathroom, but it was nice seeing you!”

Y/n tries to slip past him, but he’s quick to grab her arm. Looking in her eyes as if he’s trying to show her the happy memories that now are too painful to remember, he speaks lowly, “Hear me out.”

She shakes her head, “No, Lando. I’ve been done with us for a year.”

“Have you?” He challenges her, staring down at her and willing her to try again.

She rolls her eyes, looking anywhere but him, “Yes.”

“Look at me.”

When she fails to do so, he shakes her arm lightly.

“Look at me.”

And when she does, he tilts his head, leaning down to hover his lips over hers, “Tell me we’re done. Look at me and tell me you don’t love me anymore.”

“That’s not fair.” She whispers, lips brushing against his.

“Why?”

“Because of what you did.”

He looks on at her, their eyes holding the other’s as they relive the moments of that night. They both know there’s no way for him to counter, no way to fight back or fight for when she throws that in his face. What he did to her, what he said to her, has tarnished the trust she gave to him.

He pulls back, breathing in deep when she rips her arm from his grasp and flees further down the hall.

Watching her disappear behind the door of the restroom, Lando curses himself.

Curses the alcohol, curses that night, curses his words, curses the love they had, curses the memories that won’t leave him alone.

Curses the existence of their relationship entirely.

—

Lando’s never felt confusion of this level before. He stares down at Paige’s, Y/n’s best friend, contact as it calls Lando’s phone.

He hesitantly answers, putting it to his ear slowly, and whispering, “Hello?”

“Lando?” Paige sounds concerned.

Lando shakes his head, attempting to wake himself from the sleep he had just been having, “What’s going on?”

“Y/n is so fucking wasted and, I have no clue what happened between you, but she keeps asking for you. She won’t stop drinking, won’t leave the club, until you get here. I didn’t want to call you, partially because of how late it is and partially because of what’s going on between you two, but, if I’m honest, I’m glad I have an excuse. I’m worried about my best friend and it started when you two broke up.”

By the end of her words, Lando’s already out of his bed and halfway out the door. His keys jingle in his hand as he continues to converse with her, “I’m on my way to pick her up. I’ll be there soon. Just try and keep the drinks out of her hands.”

Before he can hang up, the engine of his car revving to life, Paige interjects, “Lando, one more thing. You’re going to have to let Y/n sleep at your place. She moved out of her apartment a few months ago and has been sleeping on my couch while she finds a new place. But, we have other friends here and I can’t just leave them to make sure she gets into my house.”

Lando nods, “That’s fine, but why’d she move out? She loved it there.”

Paige sighs, “Because she couldn’t stand the fact that everywhere she turned, all she saw was you.”

��

Lando pulls up to the club, its lights bright and music loud as he spots Y/n and Paige waiting on the curb. He gets out, rushing over to them and not loving the way Y/n seems to be hunched over in pain.

Paige pawns her off into Lando’s arms, Y/n melting into them and clinging to him when he holds her softly.

Paige begins to walk back toward the entrance of the club, “Thank you, Lando! You were always someone I could count on to take care of her. Have fun and please, for the love of God, fix whatever is wrong between you.”

At that, she disappears back into the colorful lights and Lando is left with his girl.

She’s mumbling quiet things into his chest, words he can’t make out as he gently lowers her into the passenger seat of his McLaren. When he’s finished buckling her seatbelt and triple checking that she’s secure in the car, he pulls back, but not before she’s grasping his hand and looking up at him with weeping eyes, “I miss you.”

Three words he’s yearned to hear for so long and yet, now, he can’t take them seriously. She’s drunk, she’s blacked out, and she very clearly doesn’t know what she’s saying.

This isn’t real.

He knows that.

But, what if it is?

—

When they stumble through his threshold, Y/n bolts to the bathroom. He smiles softly at the way she still, even in her drunken mind, knows exactly the layout of his apartment. Retching emitted from the small room and he’s running over, kneeling down beside her as she empties her stomach into the toilet. His hand rubs up and down her back as the other holds her hair back, whispering sweet and soft words of love in her ear.

“It’s okay, Y/n. I’m right here.” Knowing she’ll wake up tomorrow and be disgusted by his presence makes the moment even more tender. He knows what will be lost tomorrow, he wants to savor it now.

Her hand moves from the toilet to grasp his shirt, the material hanging from his waist below her. It hurts to feel her touch, to know she seeks comfort in him, but it hurts even more to think of rejecting her, pushing her hand away. So, he lets it rest there, lets it seep into his skin and burn the area, marking it as her own and reminding him there will never be another girl as precious to him as her.

When she’s done, dry heaving the only thing sounding as she lays against the wall behind her, he sits with his legs crossed to the side. His hands rub her thighs as she recovers, and all he can do is stare at her. Her eyes are closed yet he can picture the exact color of them. He memorizes her nose, its upturn and freckles; he memorizes the Cupid’s bow of her lips, the feeling of the plush and soft skin tattooed on his; he memorizes the moles dotted across her neck and the cleavage of her boobs in her dress; he memorizes her arms, their warmth forever ingrained in his brain after Spa 2021 and she was the only thing he needed; he memorizes her legs, and her hands, her hair, the way her eyebrows are shaped, and jawline he’s wished to kiss again.

For it will be gone tomorrow.

—

He’s the first to wake up, thankfully. In case she woke up before him, he slept on the couch, her body taking up his bed for the night. He makes coffee with trembles in his hands as he awaits the moment she wakes up.

And when she does, she storms out of his bedroom, striding into the kitchen still in his t-shirt and sweatpants, the items he dressed her in the night before.

“WHY THE FUCK AM I HERE?” She screams at him, hands flailing at her sides as her cheeks redden with anger.

“You got drunk and wouldn’t leave the club until I came and got you, so Paige called me.” He responds calmly, knowing how uncomfortable she must be.

She scoffs, “AND I JUST COINCIDENTALLY HAD TO SLEEP HERE?!”

He shakes his head, “No, Y/n. Paige told me you had to sleep here because she still had to make sure the other girls got home safe. She didn’t have the time to get you back to her place herself.”

She quietens down, looking at him with a distant stare, “Did we fuck?”

He reels back, eyes bulging, “NO! YOU THINK I’D DO THAT WHEN YOU WERE WASTED AND IN THE MIDST OF WHAT WE’RE GOING THROUGH?”

“WE AREN’T GOING THROUGH ANYTHING, LANDO! WE ARE DONE!” She fires back.

“YEAH? THEN, WHY DO WE KEEP SEEING EACH OTHER?”

“I DON’T KNOW! IT’S NOT LIKE I’M ASKING FOR IT!”

Lando steps closer to her, taking a deep breath, “Last night, you told me you missed me. Is that true?”

“No.”

It hangs in the air, full of lies and deception.

“Yes, you do.”

She groans, “NO, I FUCKING DON’T! STOP TRYING TO HOLD ON TO SOMETHING I DON’T WANT ANYMORE!”

“WE WERE IN LOVE, Y/N! I KNOW YOU STILL LOVE ME IN THE WAY I DO!”

Her hands shoved at his chest, tears beginning to leak from her eyes, “THAT DOESN’T CHANGE WHAT YOU SAID TO ME!”

Unwillingly, Lando is taken back to the night that ruined it all. Refreshing his memory horrifically.

A YEAR EARLIER

Y/n chuckled as she threw Lando onto the couch, his drunken body landing in an awkward position.

“I’ll be right back, Lan. I’m just going to get you some water.”

He nodded, groaning at the swirling in his stomach. He heard her clank around in the kitchen, getting up and wandering off toward the sound.

When he reached her, he was very quickly overcome with desire and lust for his girlfriend. He stumbled over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her back to him. He began kissing her neck, spit and slobber coating the skin in an uncomfortable way.

Y/n dodged him, “Lan, baby, I love you, but you’re really wasted right now.”

He hummed, “It’s fine, Y/n.”

He tried to kiss her again, but she slid out from his hold, “No, Lando. Plus, I’m not in the mood.”

He reached out for her, but she moved too quickly for his drunken mind. He groaned in frustration, “Y/n!”

“Lando!” She gave right back, shaking her head at his antics as she continued to fill up his water.

When she gave him nothing as he stared at her expectantly, he said the first thing that came to his foggy mind, “Fine, I didn’t want to fuck you anyway.”

She giggled, not fully hearing what he was saying, “Sorry, what?”

“I said, I didn’t want to fuck you anyway. I’ll just go into my Instagram messages and find someone better, it’s whatever, don’t worry about it.”

He saw the way she slowly turned her head to him, “Lando, what are you say-”

He interrupted her, “Who do you think I should look out for? Someone with a bigger ass than yours? Or maybe with bigger boobs? How about skinnier? Or perhaps with a prettier face?”

She just stood and stared at him, the glass in her hands slowly slipping from her grip, “What the fuck?”

He laughed at her, “Come on, Y/n!” He pulled out his phone, waving it in her face, “Who should I look out for as a replacement for the girlfriend who won’t fucking do shit for me?”

Her hip popped out, his demeanor change blindsiding her, “Why are you saying these things?”

He huffed as he slurred, “Because you’re a fucking shit girlfriend! I’ve put up with it for years, your inadequacy to fulfill me! I’m fucking done. I’m over not being satisfied in everything we do. You aren’t attractive to me anymore, you aren’t funny anymore to me, you just don’t do it for me anymore. Someone, I know, can surely be better than you.”

His words were malicious and hot on his tongue as if he had been waiting to say them. The glass, like her heart, slipped from her hands and shattered at her feet. Shards littered the floor, cutting her bare feet, as Lando began laughing at her, “Oh, perfect! And, now, you can’t fucking hold a glass! Fucking pathetic.”

He waltzed out of the room, as if everything was fine and retreated to his room, slamming the door shut.

There, as she stood in the middle of a wet pool of glass, she cried.

Cried for the pain in her feet; cried for the man she loved; cried for the death of her confidence; and cried for the love that had just been ruined.

PRESENT TIME

Lando remembers waking up that next morning without her beside him, and being utterly confused. That was until he read the text message in which she reminded him of the things he said to her, informing him they were over, she wouldn’t look at his face ever again, and she was already on a plane away from Monaco, to not chase her.

He had never been given the chance to explain to her just how drunk he had been that night, how his words weren’t really his.

“I DIDN’T MEAN WHAT I SAID TO YOU!” He yelled in her face, trying desperately to get through to her.

“DRUNK WORDS ARE SOBER THOUGHTS, HUH?” She argued, hands pushing against his arms.

“ARE ROOFIED WORDS SOBER THOUGHTS?”

She stopped, taking a step back and staring at him. She was quiet, looking up at him with a newfound curiosity, “What?”

“I was drugged that night, Y/n.” He responded, finally allowing for the truth to come out.

Her eyes softened, looking up at him with the love he knew was within her. She walked back to him, closer this time, and wrapped her arms gently around his neck, “Are you okay?”

Testing boundaries, he laid his hands on her waist and when she didn’t protest, he leaned into her fully.

“When I woke up that morning, I had a really hard time reading your text. I got through it, but I couldn’t shake the fact that I genuinely felt like I couldn’t see. My vision was fucked. I got up, I wanted to go to the kitchen and drink some water, but my legs gave out under me and I fell to the floor. I struggled to walk, my head ached in a way I never knew was possible, and I puked all over the floor of my bedroom. I, obviously, knew something was seriously wrong, so I called Jon. He came and helped me into his car. I must’ve been pretty removed because he tells me, to this day, that I was mumbling things about you leaving me, shit I don’t remember ever saying. But, anyways, he drove me to the hospital and they did a shit ton of tests. The drug test, that’s how we found out I was drugged with Rohypnol, a roofie. They helped get it out of my system, but I was pretty fucked up for the next few days. And, then, when I truly came to about a week or so later, I realized the gravity of what happened between us, but, obviously, by that point, it was too late.”

His explanation left Y/n feeling slightly guilty. She had been with him that night, it was her job to make sure he was safe as she promised him she would be his designated driver, the sober one.

“Do you know who did it?” She asked to which he shook his head.

“No, I’m not sure. I don’t remember much from that night.”

He saw it in her eyes, “Y/n, don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself. There’s no way you could’ve known.”

Her eyes watered, “But, I should’ve known what you were saying to me wasn’t you, or even drunk you. I shouldn’t have shut you out. I should’ve given you time to explain.”

He nodded his head to each side, “Maybe, but what I said to you was horrific. Of course, you left me.”

She separated herself from him, walking into the living room as she cried. He sat down next to her on the couch, her tears soaking the shirt she wore as she struggled to gain her breath.

He pulled her into him once more, “Y/n, it’s okay. Your actions are justified.”

She shook her head, “No, it’s not that. I mean, it sort of is, but it’s mostly the fact that I spent this past year thinking you never really loved me. What you said to me that night, I’ve never forgotten it and I just spent so much time berating myself for thinking, for five years, you loved me back. I degraded myself over something that was completely manipulated.”

He laid his head on hers as he nodded softly, “I’m so sorry. If it’s worth anything, I truly did love you all five years. I still love you. I never stopped loving you.”

She pulled back, hands on his chest as she stared at him, “I still love you even if those words still haunt me.”

“Don’t let them, please. The fact that they came out of my mouth is enough. Don’t let them have any kind of value. You were and are the love of my life. There’s no one like you, Y/n. No one who could be better suited for me. You are more than enough for me. You’ve satisfied me in every part of our relationship. What I said that night, it couldn’t be farther than the truth. I could never fall out of love with you ever. There is no one I want to take up the other part of my bed than you.”

She wiped her tears, “What about those girls you were seen with this past year?”

He shook his head, “Didn’t hold a candle to you. Not my finest moment, baby. I’m sorry for it.”

“No, you don’t have to apologize for trying to move on, I just want to make sure you’re in this with me.”

He threw his head back, “Of course, I am. I’ll always be all in if you are too.”

She lightly smiled at him, returning to her spot against his chest as he laid them back against the cushions.

They laid there with each other, in silence, until the afternoon. Something that was once broken, now whole. Something that was once destined to end, now beginning again. Something that was once messy and complicated, now clear. Something that was once mistrusted, now fully capable of any challenge.

Maybe Lando could put that engagement ring to use now.

[causenessus]

Meeting Your Eyes. | Bungou Stray Dogs

inc: dazai, chuuya, tecchou (ft. cranky jouno <3), tachihara

written in 2nd pov (female implied!)

song recc: my jinji by sunset rollercoaster

word count: 1492 words

lil scenarios of meeting their eyes <3 chuuya and tachihara get special treatment with lowercase names in theirs bc their just so soft and i love them so much but they're all so sweet !!! i refuse to write dialogue in paragraphs so sorry they're mixed with the headcanons (๑´ ^ `๑) hope u enjoy!! this is my slightly late valentine's day post <33

dazai

tries to meet your eyes the whole day at the agency

peeks above your laptop screen and to the side trying to grab your attention and pouts when you don’t look at him

solely because he wants attention or because he wants to convince you to go somewhere with him

Atsushi has discovered that it’s impossible to communicate with Dazai when he gets like this

the boy can only watch as Dazai progressively gets closer to you, and by the end he’s completely on his desk and leaning over yours <3

“[Y/N]...” he whined, using a hand to move your computer screen back and forth

“yes?” you said, keeping your eyes focused on the wobbling screen

“look at meee, please?” he inched closer to your face, almost breaking your mask

you know as soon as you look at him you won’t be able to say no

he’ll be giving you puppy eyes the entire day, and he knows that if he can get you to look at him, he’ll be able to convince you

“I’m sure Kunikida-kun wouldn’t mind if we went home a little early, can we please?” he continued to beg

you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you tried to clear your mind, “even if he doesn’t mind–which I think is highly doubtful–I still have work I can get done. so the answer is no. you can hang in there, love.”

your words went through one ear and out the other, “can you say it while looking at me?” he was using a soft, quiet voice that was making it hard to stay strong. if he wasn’t so persuasive, you’d love to look at your boyfriend’s pretty face. it was already hard enough to not look at him even though you knew how convincing he could be

a hand brushed against yours, starting to play with your index finger as Dazai whined your name again.

you opened your eyes as you answered, “no, ‘Samu–” the moment you met eyes with him, your resolve faltered

he had the most adorable expression on his already endearing face that made your heart ache whenever he looked at you like this.

you averted your eyes as you silently closed your laptop, beginning to pack your bag, “...I suppose I could get it done tomorrow. and as long as it’s turned in by its deadline Kunikida-san will be fine with it.”

“oh! my belladonna!” Dazai exclaimed as he practically threw himself onto you, arms wrapped around your neck, “I knew I could convince you. let’s go home,” he gave you an innocent smile, pressing a kiss to your lips before pulling away to gather his own things

chuuya

chuuya meets your eyes from across a corporate party

you’re the only one he can truly feel comfortable around in such a large setting. he feels safer knowing you’re safe when he’s around you and can see you

plus, he’s more than happy to walk around with you. he’s proud to be walking with the beautiful lady who’s turning every head <3 it’s even better because he knows that no matter what, you’re all his

he looks for you the moment he arrives at the party, searching the crowd for your face

he ignores anyone trying to talk to him or offer him something to drink. honestly, he waves everyone away, completely focused on finding you

he pushes past a couple in the crowd and suddenly he’ll see you; your eyes slightly wide and mouth parted as you meet his eyes from afar

as soon as you see him, you’re pushing through the crowd to get to him and he’s doing the same. you never take your eyes off of him, scared to lose him in the crowd again

when you finally meet, it’s like everything was set just for this moment. a beam of light perfectly shines over you both as you meet in the middle

“you look stunning, sweetheart,” he can’t help but say, hands trailing down your sides, resting on your hips

your arms drape across his shoulders and around his neck as you brush noses with him, “so do you, darling.” you both share a smile, continuing to look into his slate colored eyes. “I was looking everywhere for you.”

he can feel his heart start to slow as he relaxes in your hold. “so was I, doll,” as he stares into your eyes, he realizes that all he needs is you.

“say,” he murmurs, eyes lowering to watch his hands as they draw circles on your skin, “I know we just got here, but I just wanna be with you. wanna get out of here?” when he looks back up at you, his eyes are playful

“as long as I’m with you, I don’t care where we go,” you respond, intertwining your hand with his as he starts to lead you through the crowd <3

tecchou

you meet eyes with Tecchou when you look across the table to find him already looking at you

your heart stirs, stricken by those pretty amber eyes, and he hasn’t even processed that you’ve caught him staring

he’s so entranced in you that he only smiles when you meet his eyes, his head resting on a hand

“Hiro, you’re staring again,” you say softly, your cheeks warm a little under his gaze

“I can’t help it, angel. I could stare at you all day and it wouldn’t be enough, you’re just too perfect.” <3

Jouno is most certainly not happy about it

“Tecchou-san, I can hear you ogling [Y/N]-san from here and I really wish you would stop. Please stop breathing while you’re at it,” he scoffs from the other side of the table

(it’s Jouno’s special way of saying he’s happy for you both <3)

probably how you ended up finding out that he liked you

he had never hidden how much he stared at you because he was never ashamed of it

you thought he was so charming when you first met him that you were surprised he would ever take interest in you

“it’s not just that you’re beautiful. it’s just like I can see how pure you are in character. everything around you is brighter, whether I’m looking at you or when I’m with you. it’s been like that ever since I first met you,” he answered when you brought this up the day he confessed

(ear plugs did not save Jouno in the room over who was reaching for a trash can

you try to hold his gaze whenever you meet eyes with him but you’re always the first to look away, face turning red while he only continues to look at you with a lovesick smile <3

tachihara

you’re the person tachihara looks to whenever someone says something worth sharing “a look” for or when someone says something funny

yk like when someone says questionable and you look to someone else like “did they just say that fr?”

that’s tachihara and you <3

whenever jokes are made, he laughs and looks at you to see if you found it funny as well

loves to laugh with you and make you laugh <3

he has a ton of inside jokes with you

for example, radios are heavily used in the mafia so that everyone can communicate

earpieces do their job, but despite the beauty of modern technology sometimes their audio can be so scratchy and incoherent. especially when people get farther away, the audio just gets harder and harder to understand

once, when tachihara took you out on a date and you both were walking around in a store, a worker came on to the intercom to say something but it just sounded like a jumble of fuzz and garbled words.

he nudged you with his shoulder saying, “sounds like hirotsu every time he tries to speak to us during a job.”

you both were crying, holding onto shelves and dying of laughter afterwards <3

and now every time during a job when you hear hirotsu through your ear piece, you both immediately look at each other with mischievous smiles and stifled laughter

even during the most serious of meetings–you both could be standing right in front of Mori and it’s like you guys have a telepathic connection

you both will look at each other simultaneously and share the same thoughts

meeting eyes with him always ends with you both having uncontrollable smiles that automatically spread across your faces <3

along with the knowing looks you two share, there’s so much love and adoration in your eyes for each other

he also knows that if you don’t meet his eyes or if they’re not as lively as usual, something’s wrong and he’s always quick to ask you what he can do to help <3

[stevesgother]

Savior Complex - S.H

Paring - Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

WC - 1.9k

Warnings - Blood. Mention of vomit. Partial nudity. Let me know if I missed anything!

Authors note - This is my first fic...ever. Constructive criticism always welcome but pls be nice. Takes place directly after the events of S3. Hurt/comfort, angst, acknowledging Steve’s trauma bc damn.

Summary: ANGST, hurt/comfort, happy ending but not a lot of resolution, friends to ? lovers? idk its up to you!

Inspired by my favorite poem of all time, that has always reminded me a little bit of Steve.

“In this space right here that we have made for each other, you can say anything and I will not abandon you. Unwrap the worst things you have done. Watch me hold them up to the light and not even flinch”

The air inside Steve’s car was heavy with tension and the thick July heat.

You sat parked in his driveway, the rest of The Party having dispersed to their own homes; their parents waiting for them with open arms and misty eyes. 

Not you. 

And Certainly not Steve Harrington.

You and Steve weren’t what you would call “close”. Until now, that is. Shared trauma tends to have that effect. He knew you had a tumultuous relationship with your parents, and it didn’t take much deducing to realize his parents weren’t in the picture. Barely in Indiana, let alone spending anything close to quality time with their only son.

The idea of spending the last few hours of this nightmarishly long day in his big, empty house was sounding lovelier by the minute. On the grounds that it ‘wasn’t safe to be alone right now’. You didn’t read too much into it; he was right, after all. Part of you wonders if he just didn’t want to be alone. Sluggish, and noticeably more bloodied than you, Steve made his way to the front door with you in tow. His house was silent; eerily so. Everything pristine and well manicured, as if no one lived there at all. 

“There’s a guest bedroom upstairs, and a bathroom down the hall, to the right. Towels in the cabinet next to the shower.” He doesn’t even look at you as he says it. You try not to feel like you’re burdening him, blaming his avoidance on the exhaustion and not the unwelcome presence of you in his home.

“What about you?”

“What about me?” He finally meets your gaze. The shiner he sports on his left eye is still swollen, but less so. The front of his sailor suit you once thought so endearing, is now stained with blood and vomit.

“You’re bleeding.” You say quietly. “You have -” you wince, “- open wounds on your face Steve. Probably a concussion too and that’s if we’re being modest.”

He wears a tight-lipped expression you can’t quite read. You can tell he’s frustrated, and his exhaustion is bone deep. It nags at your heart. Maybe that’s why you don’t just drop it when he answers you.

“Not my first rodeo, I’ll be fine just-” He pauses, “go shower, and get some rest. God knows this shit won’t just be over come tomorrow.”

You take a tentative step forward. “Please just…just let me help. I can disinfect the cuts around your eye. I was a girl scout! Though in hindsight I realize how useless that sounds and-” you’re rambling now; nervous.

“Stop.” You’re taken aback slightly by his tone, you haven’t known Steve to act hostile. Not in a long time. “I don’t need your help, and I certainly don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not ‘pity’ Steve! Why is it so hard for you to believe someone might want to help you?” You take a step forward from where you stand a few feet from him. You reach up to touch his forehead with the hope of better assessing his injuries.

‘Enough!” He swats your hand away, “God, I should’ve never offered for you to stay here. You think you’re some type of savior, but you’re not.”

His words feel like a knife to the chest. You knew what he was trying to do, you knew he didn’t really mean the things he said. Not when he’s like this. For the first time since you arrived tonight, you thought of how many times he’s had to come back to this empty, soulless house all alone. Damaged, emotionally and physically. Wounds he’s had to patch alone. No gentle caress of another’s hands. Just the stinging of antiseptic in his nostrils, and the heaviness of everyone he’s ever loved abandoning him.

“You don’t mean that.” You say, shaking your head in a disbelieving way.

He laughs, humorless, “Yes I do. I really, really do.” A bitter sharpness to his words. It burns like liquor washing down your throat. “Go.” 

“No!” Now you’re the one raising your voice. “Being stubborn is for when someone is haggling you at a flea market. Not when someone is trying to love you.”

Love. You realize what you’ve said a beat too late, but you stand defiant despite it. You do love Steve. This fact, collecting cobwebs in the back of your brain for months, being spat out onto the floor in front of you both is what compels you to what you do next.

Steve, who was previously standing with this index finger and thumb pinching the bridge of his nose, is now staring at you like a deer in headlights. Before either of you can blink, you’re closing the gap between the two of you, sure of yourself. You wrap him in a suffocating embrace and he struggles against your grip.

“Stop! Please I don’t need you-” He all but shouts. Still, you sense a dent in the armor.  A crack in the wall he’s spent so long building to keep you out; to keep everyone out.

Eventually, he stops struggling. His knees give out from underneath him as the trauma and the pain and the events of today catch up to him. But not just today; a year ago when his girlfriend broke his heart at Tina’s stupid party. When Michael Harrington cut him off on the grounds of him being a disgrace to the family name. Everything flooding back to him all at once. Everything he’s spent his youth avoiding.

You sink to the ground with him, still holding him tight. He stops making an effort to hide his sobs, but instead clings to you like you’re the only tangible thing keeping him here. You sit beside him, with one arm wrapped around his shoulders and your free hand cradling his head to his chest so he can hear your heartbeat. A heart that finally beats for him.

“I know.” You soothe. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” The hair you’re gently stroking, which is usually so voluminous and perfectly styled, is now dampened with blood and sweat.

“I’m sorry-” He sobs, “I'm so sorry.”

“Don’t be. I don’t want you to be sorry. I’m not sorry.” 

He cries harder at that. Shoulders shaking and breath shallow, he looks at you. You cradle his sweet, bruised face in your hands. You think, like a pomegranate, Steve Harrington is beautiful, and worth the mess. Wiping his tears with your thumbs and careful to avoid the cuts and swelling that decorate his face, you give him a smile. Shy, but earnest.

“Can you take me to bed?” He asks you, eyes bleary.

–

Neither of you speak as you turn on the faucet and watch the porcelain tub fill with scalding hot water; still not hot enough to wash away the memories this day has tainted you both with forever. Tentatively, you lift your shirt over your head, and slip your shorts down your scraped legs, revealing your mismatched bra and underwear. A pang of guilt washes over you when you look down and realize Steve took the brunt of the Russian soldiers. He was the bravest and most selfless person you had ever met.

You give him a look that asks “is this okay?” as your fingertips brush the cotton of his ruined Scoops uniform. You aren’t sure what the boundaries are anymore. Momentarily Steve worries this will irreparably change things between you two. He nods anyway. You lift the shirt over his head, catching a glimpse at the real extent of his injuries. His ribs were badly bruised, and he had clotting cuts all over his abdomen. Something swirls in your stomach at the sight of his chest hair. You wish the circumstances of this moment were different.

He pulls his own pants and socks down with a hiss, eyes screwed shut, leaving you both in just your undergarments. He steps into the tub and slowly sinks beneath the hot water. You step in behind him, and he looks over his shoulder at you, a look of confusion contorting his features. You don’t bother to explain, for the fear that speaking would break the trance you both seemingly were under. You had built a space here for each other, one you didn’t want to leave just yet.

Sitting behind him now, you wrap your arms around his chest and pull him flush to you. You rest your chin in the space between his shoulder and his neck, and close your eyes. You can feel how he tries to match his breathing to yours; slow and rhythmic.

You reach up to the hanging shelf on the wall above your head, and grab the cedar and sandalwood body wash. The second you open the bottle, your senses are flooded with him. Only in your wildest dreams did you think you’d ever get to smell his scent in any way other than passing. A slight brush of shoulders in the hallway; a friendly hug when you’d gotten back from a month long vacation.

With a dollop of body wash on a washcloth you found on the edge of the tub, you gently start to scrub the blood and grime off his freckled skin. Like this, you can see every birthmark, every scar, the way the hair at the nape of his neck curls up around his ears in the damp bathroom air.

Steve rests his calloused hand on your knee and squeezes. A silent reassurance that what you’re doing is okay, that he’s okay, that he’s here. Everything feels overwhelmingly intimate as your hands explore his body. You lather his thick, brown locks with the shampoo you found next to the soap. With a heavy sigh, Steve allows his head to fall back into the crook of your neck. He doesn’t tell you, but this is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for him.

You’re not sure how long the two of you sit in the tub together, but at some point he turns to face you, cupping your jaw in his larger hand. The look he gives you is so tender, you think you might cry. His caramel eyes flicker to your lips and back up to your eyes, so fast you would’ve missed it if your senses weren’t dialed up to 11.

With the delicacy of someone touching a flower petal, he closes the gap and presses his cut lips to your soft ones. Hesitant at first, giving you the option to pull away. He fears he may have misread the moment when you separate from him, a look in your eyes that he can’t read. His worry dissipates as you take his face into both of your hands and kiss him deep and slow. You only break when the air feels too stiff to continue, the water droplets accumulating in the air and Steve's kiss making it difficult to catch your breath. His hands slide from where they were grasping your hair, and down to your neck where they stay.

“I love you, too.”

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

options for if vaggie and alastor found out about each other's dancing skills

Alastor better at dancing than Vaggie and everyone can see it - Boring. - Changes and challenges nothing. - A crime against Alastor simps and Vaggie simps alike.

Vaggie and Alastor both better than each other at dancing their specific preferred dance styles but no one else can tell - Better. - Both get a chance to show off and get shown up. - Unwillingly bonding over being the only ones at the hotel who can fully see the other's skill and being a little nauseous over it.

They're equally matched in everything and both know it. - Getting juicy. - Dance off of increasing frustration. - Everyone can tell they're hating every minute of it and are only trying to beat the other but also no one can get them to stop until Charlie literally steals her gf away.

Vaggie is slightly better but only Alastor notices - Yessss. - Vaggie can tell he's getting even more high strung and dramatic than usual but they're literally just dancing so what the fuck. - Alastor casually announcing that was the most unpleasant dance of his life and one he will NEVER be repeating again while Charlie steps in for the next dance with Vaggie very confused bc her gf is a great dancer??? What?

Vaggie is clearly better than him and everyone sees it - ITS A M-M-MENTAL BREAKDOWN!!! - He refuses to accept this outcome and keeps asking (challenging) her to another dance. - Great B-plot gag potential, Vaggie's exasperated, Alastor's cheering himself up by annoying her about it, by the end of the night Vaggie stalks out of the ballroom firmly telling the radio demon No! You stay! STAY! Don't follow me! while he trails after waving her forged dance card with his name rewritten all over it.

Vaggie is WAY better than him, sees how much that unsettles him, and is SMUG about it - A quiet Alastor is a Alastor who's going through it. - Husk is not quiet, Husk is CHEERING. - "viscerally disgusted at the thought of anyone actually being his superior in anything" Alastor meets "always the follower who rarely gets shown any damn respect even by herself" Vaggie - Vaggie switching between using Alastor like an inanimate prop and uno reverse guiding him into steps he has to stumble through, smirking the whole time. - Alastor says nothing until the very end, where he bows politely and askes who or what VAGGIE uses dancing to try to forgetting about. - Charlie doesn't hear that part but does see her gf hurry outside right afterwards and goes worriedly after her, which Alastor watches before going to sit quietly at the bar and get drunk while a now terrified Husk pretends not to exist. - Heading upstairs later with an extra few bottles Alastor passes by a partly open door and catches a glimpse of chaggie slow dancing inside in the dark, with Vaggie's exorcist wings out. - he leaves them one of the liquor bottles before moving on - Up in his radio tower Alastor puts on a record labeled mother's favorites and has it on repeat for the rest of the night. - Vaggie handles complaints the next day from demons banging on the hotel door screaming about being driven half out of their minds by the looping broadcast that affected every audio device for several several city blocks around the hotel last night. - She tells them all it was a hard night for some people and to get fucking lost. - Vaggie dropping an empty bottle off at Alastor's door with some black coffee and a note reading "thanks for the hangover asshole" - he puts the note in the bottle and keeps it. probably in the mouth a decapitated deer head. - Alastor and Vaggie and the horrifying idea they might have more than a love of dancing and multiple murders in common. - Charlie changes their official hotel status on the official hotel enemies / frienimes / alliances chart board to "FRIENDS!!!" afterwards and they both physically cringe back at seeing it.

[sundaycentric]

JING YUAN AND NEUV!!!!!

(I too am down horrendous for them)

(seperate) neuvillette & jing yuan x reader

content ★ headcanons, NOT PROOF READ!!, sfw, fluff

note ★ SO REAL!! i love them both sm its unreal.. anyways im just going to do some basic headcanons and drabbles bc im abt to go to a dance and i need something quick to post.. other requesters i am working on your stuff!!

NEUVILLETTE ★

He has no idea what it's like to be in a relationship. He has no experience whatsoever, besides for the in occasional movies Lady Furina will force him to watch with her.

Neuvillette isn't that dumb to take the movies as reality, though. So, he ends up just being a mess.

Before you start dating, Neuvillette will try to his best to hide his feelings. He often times pushes you away, but the sky darkens not soon after. He feels torn.

Neuvillette doesn't even understand his own emotions. He can barely process what he feels, let alone name it. He's confused and worried. He thinks it's love, but what if he isn't? He's never felt love to know what it's like.

It'd take some time for him to start working through his feelings. However, he still keeps his distance. He tries not to make it obvious he is avoiding you, but someone sees through him easily.

It doesn't take long for Lady Furina to find out what's happening, especially considering how observant she is to drama. She'll pester Neuvillette about it a bit, laughing at his reactions. Neuvillette tries to appear indifferent, but the sky's definitely different from what it was before.

For all her teasing, Lady Furina does genuinely care about Neuvillette (and you). She will offer some advice to Neuvillette, even though her experience in romance is just as limited as his. At least Lady Furina can work out her emotions, though.

Gradually, Neuvillette accepts your presence and allows him to take pleasure in it. A month ago, he was doing everything to stay out of your way, but now is he practically near you every time he can be.

He tries not to talk to you too much, though. He gets flustered. Although you might not be able to see it on his face, you might notice the sky becoming brighter—way brighter than normal when you talk to him.

He will never confess first. Well, unless he felt like he had to to avoid loosing you. Other that that scenario, though, he will keep quiet until you say something

Once you do say something and confess your feelings to him, Neuvillette will be so happy. His face might be a little smile, but there is no rain for entire week and lot's of people are getting sunburnt..

He will try his best to keep you happy. Neuvillette is very big on communication since he doesn't always understand what you feel. He does try though.

Neuvillette still doesn't talk much about himself. Instead, he prefers to listen to you. Even the small, mundane things you did during your day put a smile on his face.

Overall, he is very kind and considerate. Maybe even too much. He's scared of hurting you or pushing you away because of how he is. That hasn't happened yet, though. :)

JING YUAN ★

He definitely knows what he is doing. He's had some experience in the past, both watching and doing. Although, it is different when it comes to you.

Jing Yuan took interest in you. He was curious. Why? He doesn't know himself. He just likes you presence. You remind him of his finches, maybe even lion sometimes.

He learns as much as he can about you without being seen as creepy. He'll pay attention attention to you at events or when he is in public. When he catches you staring at him, he feels warm.

Eventually, he begins to come up to you. Jing Yuan prefers to take things slow, and really wants to come up with some sort of strategy to win your heart. It's a bit hard, though. He doesn't want to manipulate you, you aren't his enemy.

Jing Yuan tries to keep things in his control, both so he can spend as much time with you possible and just because he likes it. He will pay for your lunches, buy you things you like, pay for your trips. Jing Yuan has enough money, and he is willing to spend it all if you ask for it.

He'll slowly try to become closer with you. He doesn't want to push you away. After all, Jing Yuan has all the time in the world to wait for you. He only hopes you'll actually go to him.

Jing Yuan seems more unfocused at work now. He is usually not paying attention anyways (as he is sleeping), but it's becoming a bit worse now. Lady Fu catches on quick and reprimands him.

Jing Yuan, in his tired state, tries to excuse himself before Lady Fu gets angrier. He ends up slipping and saying your name. The two of them stare at each other before Fu Xuan starts scolding him again.

Fu Xuan is mad at Jing Yuan, yes, but she cannot deny that she cares about Jing Yuan. So, she might peek into the future to see if the two of you are together. She refuses to tell Jing Yuan what she sees, but she smiles as soon as he leaves.

Jing Yuan may be first to confess. He is fine with either. In the case that he confesses, he'll laugh at the way your face lights up. If you confess first, he'll find it funny how you seem a bit unsure of yourself.

He will reassure you with a kiss on the cheek before telling you that he loves you. Jing Yuan will hug you tightly while he sleeps and take care of anything you need.

He is like a teddy bear. :)

He is attentive, and he always knows what you're feeling. He might tease you sometimes, but he is ultimately very sweet and protective over you.

Yanqing definitely looks up to you as another parental figure. Good luck with that.

Overall, very nice to sleep on. He'll take care of everything he can for you and treat you like a precious gem.

[starry-bi-sky]

I'm slowly becoming obsessed with the childhood friends au and it's mostly bc of something you said in the tags of an ask lol. you mentioned that they weren't soulmates they were something better. that they were two balls of yarn they batted around until they were intertwined, that they chose and continue to choose to be as close as two souls can be.

it's so poetic, the idea that fate has nothing to do with it. they looked at each other and said this is it, that's the one. It makes me think of so many different quotes but here's just a few. Hozier "lay me gently in the cold dark earth, no grave can hold my body I'll crawl home to her (him)" or like patroclus saying that if Achilles were to die that "all things soft and beautiful would be buried with him" and poor Danny grieving so long and so hard because "what is grief if not love perserving?" when you're in love with someone, that person is the lighthouse of your universe and to lose them is to be thrown to a tempestuous sea.

and thinking of their reunion makes me feel a little crazy too cause I see what you've been plotting and it just makes me think of how their relationship is going to be at first. like here's a person that you love so deeply and it's been so long since you've seen them and you've both changed since. will they click back together seemingly effortlessly? attached at the hip for a bit because they're both/or one is scared of being separated again? or will there be some friction for a while while they try to realign their pieces to fit together, to figure out what's different and what's practically the same? "you are a language I am no longer fluent in but still remember how to read"

sorry for rambling, I love them your honor.

🫵 DONT YOU DARE APOLOGIZE FOR RAMBLING I LOVE GETTING RAMBLING ASKS. AND SAME.

There was this one sound on tiktok that I heard that reminded me of them, and I just went and found it, and it goes: "I would recognize you in another lifetime entirely in different bodies, different times, and i would love you in all of this. Until the very last star in the sky burnt out into oblivion." and the first time i heard it i literally thought "this is CFAU Danny and Jason"

AND YEAH THEY JUST. I love devoted characters, i love when characters are so deeply devoted and loyal to each other its like you can't imagine them being anywhere else but at each other's side. That wasn't wholly my intent when I first came up with CFAU last fall, but god I am not complaining about how it turned out. My favorite part of the chapter 1 rewrite is making sure Danny's devotion to Jason was reciprocal.

god those quotes. they're so accurate too. yeah. i thought about this au once in the context of a soulmate au, and just couldn't get behind it. It made their whole dynamic felt cheapened, like of course they're soulmates; it was destined. When no, it wasn't. They made it that way.

(If the two of them were somehow transported to a universe with soulmate marks, they would not have matching symbols. That's okay, Danny and Jason don't need them to be. They'd pick up a tattoo gun or a pen and make their own. They wouldn't call it a soulmate mark, just a them mark.)

("Why should I share my soul with some schmuck I don't know? I want to share my soul with you.")

yeah. their reunion is. ! about as exactly as intense as it needs to be :]. They've both changed so much, and they're both scared of being separated again. Jason purposely stayed away from Amity because he knew he couldn't keep away if he didn't. Being back together again is like having a piece of them returned.

SPEAKING OF QUOTES. Here's one:

I don't believe in the death that you're bringing The reason I'm living is you Wherever you go That's where I'll be Even if death tags along, I don't mind It's still you and me I'll never leave you alone

"Death's At My Door" - The Outsiders Musical

[teddybeartoji]

let me tell u this idea i have of going to the club with bestie!roomie!toji

you're all comfy in his lap, back against his broad chest, in a private booth (thank you shiu) while the others in the group are busy drinking or on the dance floor. but you are more than content with just staying with toji. the way his hand strokes up and down your back, occasionally, going over your hip and playfully squeezing your ass as he feigns innocence !!

trying to get him back by teasing him, pouting as you tell him that you want his opinion on this new outfit you bought bc you don't know if the color fits you. and he does NOT expect to see you open a picture of you posing in the mirror in cute pink lingerie that hugs you in all the right places. “i like this one, the pink set was so pretty, but i dunno if i like it on me,” you hum

toji is losing his fucking MIND right now, his arms gripping you tighter as he lets out a heavy sigh at the view. he doesn't even get a chance to say anything before you're swiping to the left and you grow a little shy, giving a fake little 'woops'

instead of a picture, it’s a fucking video. a video of you fucking yourself with a toy playing on the screen angled so only he could see!! the volume is low so only you both can hear it and toji can HEAR the wet gushing of your pussy, creaming around the toy as you moaned and begged oh so cutely. “aww...toji, I couldn’t even get the toy all the way in,” you whine. “only got it halfway…”

its taking everything in him not to just fuck you right now, to show you he'd make sure you'd be able to get cock in you all the way. "kook at my best girl, so fuckin' desperate and needy," he hums, resting his chin on your shoulder as he watches the video. "tsk, tsk, tsk...poor think, y'should be filled up properly, hm? stretched on my cock til you're taking all of it...i'd make sure ya cream for real, baby doll."

“i wanted t’ send this to you, wanted you t’ see it and tell you t’ come help me get it in me,” you pouted, leaning into him. "plus, when it feels too good i can't help but run away from it, and it makes it sooo hard t' cum, tojiiiii....you wouldn' let me run from it, right, big guy?"

the way you look at him over your shoulder with those pretty eyes that just scream mischief..."mmn, you should've. i would've come over right away. make sure we get some cock into ya like y'need it. stretch you out niiiiice and good, get m'cock into that tight, pretty pussy of yours...like the good best friend i am," he purrs, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

yeah im insane !!!!

LUNARRRR WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU I WANT YOU SO BAD WHEN I TELL YOU THAT MY EYES POPPED OUT OF MY HEAD I MEAN THAT I HAD TO FUCKING LOOK FOR THEM IN THE DARK BEFORE I COULD DO ANYTHING ELSE RAAAAHHHHHHH

THIS IS SO FUCKING HOT LUNAR I NEED TO MAKEOUT WITH YOU ASAP. FIRST OF ALL THE LINGERIE??????????????????? GODDDDDDDDDDDDDD IT'S SOOFUCKING PRETTY TOJI IS A STRONG STRONG MAN FOR NOT FOLDING IMMEDIATELY BC WTF. OMFG AND I LOOOOOVE THE TOUCHING FUCK IT'S SO HOT LIKE YEAH I WANNA SIT ON HIS LAP AND I WANT HIM TO SQUEEZE MY ASSS AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHSTOP THIS MADNESS RIGHT NOW

WHEN HE RESTS HIS HEAD ON YOUR SHOULDER????????????????????????????????????????? I DIED. I DIED I DIED I DIED. THE CLOSENESS IS DRIVING ME INSANE ACTUALLY LUNAR I REALLY DO NEED TO BITE YOU OR SOMETHING YOU'RE SO SEXY AND THEN A KISS ON THE CHEEEEEEK????????? GODDD I AM NOT YOUR STRONGEST SOLDIERRRRR I WANT TO SUCK HIM RIGHT THEREEEEEEEE BALLS AND EVERYTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND YOU KNOW HE'S GETTING BRICKED BC YOU CAN JUST FEEL IT POKING AT YOU FROM BEHIND FUUUUUUUUCKKKKKKKMMM

he calls the cab bc he wants to help his bestie out:(((( but then he's getting soooooooo handsy in the cab already bc how could he not:((( the video keeps replaying in his head and you just keep staring at him with these mischievous eyes and he kinda just wants to eat you yk

his fingers keep kneading your thighs as you play with the hair on his nape andmmmmmmmmmmmmmm he's so hard it fucking hurtss. and when you're finally at your place he doesn't even let you properly open the fucking door bc he just needs his lips on you whewww he's such a good friend:(((((((((((((((((((((((((( he's gonna teach you how to take it and he's not gonna let you run away:((((((((((((((((((((he's so perfect lunar i need him so fucking bad i just drooled on my shirt what the actual fuck

[bunniislvt]

Yandere Content? I gotcha, how about Thoma Yandere being obsessed with Reader 👉🏻👈🏻🙈 like he doesnt want reader to get out of the house bc he can give them all they want, why leaving? 🥺 I hope it makes sense haha

hehehe~ i love yandere thoma ~

— "wont you stay with me?" yan!thoma x reader

"baby, baby! where do you think you're going~?"

thoma's smooth voice rang in your ears as his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you tightly against his chest. so close. you were so close to leaving.

he turns you around, his hands grabbing your hips tightly.

"were you trying to leave~? oh baby.. why would you ever want that? you know that its a scary world out there... youre safe in here.. with me."

his eyes looked so genuine, so caring and loving, it was hard to resist him. he always talked to you with such a sweet and genuine voice. he only wants whats best for you right? but you're capable. you dont need him to hover around you all the time. you can take care of yourself.

"thoma.. i can handle it out there, i know it can.."

"you think that, baby~ but you know, you know! you cant go out there. there are so many bad people who want you.. they want to put their dirty hands on my precious baby.."

his hand comes up and caresses your cheek, warmth being left in its wake. a sly smile spread across his lips.

"besides.. i can give you everything you need here~ and i know just the thing that will convince you to stay..~"

<3

his fingers pumped in and out of you, his mouth latched to your sensitive spots. his tongue flicked against you, his other hand holding your hip down into the couch so you couldnt move. you couldnt help but moan. he always found a way to pry your moans from you, not matter how hard you tried to resist.

his eyes looking up into yours, half lidded and filled with lust. his fingers went deeper and deeper in you, curling as he pumped them in and out. trying to squirm away from him, away from the torturous pleasure, he went faster. so fast that the couch was starting to shake and bang against the wall.

your muscles started to spasm and give out, your jaw going slack and your eyes squeezing shut as you neared your orgasm. he pushed you closer and closer to the nth orgasm youve had within the hour, you little punishment for trying to leave him.

with a few more pumps and a harsh suck from his mouth, you tumble over the edge and orgasm all over his lips and fingers, his tongue quickly lapping it up. you couldnt move, you were too exhausted.

once he finished licking you up, he leaned over you and kissed you, his lips pushed hard against you in a lust driven kiss. he pulled you in and you couldnt escapse, you were his to play with, and you finally understood that.

"see~ no one out there can make you feel as good as i do~" he hums, scooping you up into his arms and pulling you into his lap.

he pulled down the waistband of his pants and pressed the tip against your entrance.

"i'll show you who you belong to~"

[skribbyposts]

Another zosan post bc they invade my thoughts every waking moment !! also i'm typing on mobile so this might be weirdly formatted

anyways, hc that Sanji is the MOST TOUCHY DRUNK to ever exist and he's all over all of his crewmates all the time. in addition to this, Sanji is also a fucking horrible lightweight. like.... tipsy after two beers lightweight. Sanji also YAPS to whoever's nearest to him about everything and anything that comes to his mind. Zoro is his main victim all of the time and does not appreciate it (yes he does, hes so gay) and its so funny to the rest of the crew b/c he has to peel a rambling sanji off of him while blushing so much he looks like a really tan tomato.

Nami + Usopp appear briefly here b/c i love their friendship so much heart emoji!!! <3333

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ugh, marimo, get off of me."

Zoro sighs from his position pressed against the edge of a bench, having what is arguably the worst time ever in the corner of some random bar he's been dragged to by the rest of the crew.

"I'm not on you, cook. move your goddamn leg."

"No, you move your leg."

Zoro tries in vain to shuffle away from the lanky limb draped across his lap, narrowly avoiding spilling his beer all across said limb.

The blonde always got touchy when he was drunk, plastering his entire body on the nearest person and talking their ear off for the remainder of the night.

Somehow, it was always Zoro who ended up with a tipsy Sanji draped over him, his breath smelling strongly of cheap liquor as he rambled about god knows what.

Zoro sighs again, resigning himself to his fate as the blond proceeds to hook his heel around one of Zoro's legs and pull himself forward so that he's pressed up against the other man's side. Zoro feels Sanji's elbow poking his arm. He tells himself it's very unpleasant.

"Yknow, you're coming with me to get... uh... groceries tomorrow. Yeah. We need bread."

"You've told me that three times tonight."

"Well, I'm telling you again, you algae head." Sanji lolls his head back to look at the ceiling, using the hand not trapped between them to loosely gesture at the man next to him.

"Nice one," Zoro deadpans.

"Oh, fuck you," Sanji replies, and then rests his head on Zoro's shoulder. "you want hamburgers for lunch tomorrow?" he asks over the loud murmur of the bar.

Zoro, however, does not reply. Instead, he stares straight ahead and tries to focus on the fact that Sanji's chin is digging uncomfortably into his shoulder rather than how his face is inches away.

Sanji doesn't seem to notice, his breath fanning along Zoro's cheek as he prattles on about brioche buns.

Zoro is trying very hard to stay still, internally processing the warmth of the cook's flushed face against his own and sending a silent prayer to whatever deity is out there this will be over soon. He also pointedly does not look at Nami and Usopp snickering over their wine glasses in the corner either.

He's snapped out of his impromptu staring contest with a stain on the wall when he feels Sanji slump almost completely off of the chair, and then suffers a mini heart attack when the blond kicks his legs up on the other side of the bench and straight up puts his head in Zoro's lap.

Zoro stares down at him in surprise and Sanji stares back, both eyes visible with his bangs swept out of his face. They're half-lidded and his face is tinted red from the liquor. Neither of them says anything, for a moment. Sanji's gaze sweeps across Zoro's face, looking for something. He pauses, and Zoro has to clamp his mouth shut because every time he sees Sanji like this he suddenly gains the inexplicable urge to say I've been in love with you for three years, please make out with me, which would be very bad.

The cook's eyebrows furrow, and he parts his pretty, pink lips before mumbling softly;

"...Did you get a haircut?"

Zoro throws his head back and groans. "That's it, we're going back to the ship."

He can hear Nami and Usopp's shrieking laughter clearly, even over Sanji's slurred protests as Zoro chugs the rest of his beer, hoists the fucking idiot up on his back, and marches out of the bar.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zoro did, in fact, get a haircut. Sanji should know b/c hes the one who did it lmao. Also, it takes Zoro an hour to walk the 15 minutes back to the ship, and Sanji talks about bread the entire time.

Am i making Zoro whipped for Sanji because i am whipped for Sanji? Interesting question, indeed. Will i ever stop? No.

Ty to my loyal 5 followers i gained yesterday!!! shoutout to yall.

Also i would REALLY appreciate comments about how i can improve my writing style so if you have any feedback please comment !!!!!

okay bye :p

[cherry-romper]

hello!! i’m currently in love with your writing style and i wanted to request a superior officer! reader babying reno bc hes so baby, and maybe hes feeling insecure of his battle scars and his ability to kill kaijus and reader comforts him, angst to fluff? thank you!!!!

RENO X CAPTAIN!READER

Love requests like this! I had fun writing this, thank you anon <3 I've never written angst before, so idk if its any good :(

Warnings; none

Contains; GN!reader, angst to fluff

Word Count; 2065

Three tight knocks at your door pulled you from your work. “You wanted to see me, captain?” Reno’s voice was cautious, laced with worry. It wasn’t often you asked a subordinate to your office, and when you did it was never for a good reason. 

“Ah, Ichikawa! Please come in, take a seat, I’ll be with you in just a moment,” you tried you best to sound inviting, but given the mountain of paperwork you were faced with, you just sounded stressed. 

Reno strode into the room, as anxious as he was, his body language didn’t display it. He stood at the other side of your desk, back straight and arms tight to his sides, refusing to take a seat. Always so formal, you thought. Finishing up the sentence you were writing, you laid down your pen. 

“I thought I told you to sit, Ichikawa?” You eyed him, watching as he tensed up at your stern voice. 

“With all due respect, captain, I can’t.” You cocked a brow at him, looking between the empty seat and him. “Why not?” 

“I sustained an injury on the field, captain. It makes it hard to move my hips.” He explained, slightly embarrassed, a dusting of pink on his cheeks. He’s hurt his ass, you chuckled to yourself. 

“I understand, you can just stay standing then,” you permitted, an amused smile on your face. Standing from your seat, you walked round to where he stood. As young as he was, he was taller than you, only by a few inches, but taller. You weren’t much older than him, being the youngest captain in the Defence Force. Still, you sighed at the difference. He’s not even finished growing yet. You perched on the desk next to him, crossing your legs and arms. You stayed like that for a minute, in silence; half trying to find the right words, and half to tease him. 

He looked to you, his body still facing forward despite you now being at his side. He shifted uncomfortably in the silence. 

“You know, Ichikawa…” You started, staring up at him from where you were perched. He observed you, anticipating a beratement for his failings in the field. Instead, he was greeted with worry. “I was worried about you out there”. 

Confused by your words, he questioned you “I don’t understand what you mean, captain…”

“Stop being so formal would you, its bugging me out, I told you to call me Y/N when we’re alone,” you winked at him, sending him spiralling. His blush deepened and he was certain that the whole country could hear his heartbeat. He tried hard to stammer out a reply of agreement, but his brain betrayed him. You’d made him incoherent. A smirk played on your lips, watching as he nodded his head instead of speaking. Sweet boy.

“When I heard what happened, with that kaiju, I mean…I feared the worst”. You didn’t meet his gaze, you couldn’t. Truth be told, underneath your exterior, you had such a soft spot from Reno. He was more than capable of looking after himself on the field, you knew that better than anyone, given how much you’d watched him, but still, he was young…and reckless at times. It scared you, knowing how often he’d put himself in danger for his friends. He wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice himself if it meant he could save them. He reminded you of your younger self. You admired him for that.

“You were injured. Badly from what I’d heard. And the drones were destroyed…I didn’t know if you were even alive…” You looked to him, hoping to find relief in his eyes that would mirror your own, but you were met with distain. His face was scrunched up and his brows knitted. He jerked his head away from you, disgust plastered on his face, like you were a rotted piece of meat. 

Taken aback by the sight, you rose from the desk, turning your body to him. “Speak freely, Ichikawa.”

He took a moment to collect his thoughts, thinking of how best to convey his opinion respectfully. You were his superior, and he would always treat you with respect, no matter how much he disagreed with you. 

“I came to you in a moment of need, after Kafka got injured, you told me to find you when I felt lost. You told me to treat you like a friend. Then you went and told me then not to get attached in this line of work, you said ‘it never ends well’. And now…now you’re telling me you were worried about me dying, captain?” He didn’t meet your eyes, he just stared out the window, his eyes glinting in the evening sun, a deep venom hung on his words. 

You felt your heart sink. He’s not wrong, you thought. You tried to digest his words, to understand where he was coming from. His outburst wouldn’t have come without reason. You hummed, “I see”. 

Thinking back to that time, you remembered trying to comfort him when Kafka had been injured. Poor kid was beside himself with worry. Again, that was something you deeply admired about Reno. When you told him not to get attached, you didn’t mean for him to stop caring. What you were trying to say is, in this line of work, you can get hurt in more ways than one. Emotional pain can kill a man as good as any Kaiju. You were trying to warn him that there is a price on emotions. 

“Reno, I…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” he turned to you upon hearing you call him by his name, this time he looked at you softer, more composed, “will you allow me to explain myself?” He only nodded. 

You’d originally called him in to your office to ask him how he was doing and to gush at his new injuries, something you did often to tease hi. You knew he’d blamed himself for the last Kaiju escaping, you wanted to reassure him that it wasn’t his fault. 

After the mess that happened during the last kaiju attack, you’d been led to believe many members of your platoon had passed, Reno included. You weren’t on the mission, it had been classed as low risk, so you’d been watching from the surveillance room. After the drones got destroyed and the communication had been cut off, there was no way of knowing exactly what had happened. It quickly became a blur, an incomprehensible mess. The guilt made you feel sick. You were safe and sound while you believed your platoon was being massacred. It all felt like some big joke. Like the universe was playing a trick on you. These things happen, you told yourself, it’s an occupational hazard.

“It wasn’t just you I was worried for,” you forced eye contact with him, he needed to know you meant every word. “I care about all of you. Every last one of you out in the field are my responsibility. You’re all like family to me, something I never had. This place, the Defence Force, it’s my home, and all of you bring me such joy. Being able to serve alongside you, it’s a privilege I’m thankful for every single day”. 

He didn’t move, didn’t even blink, it was hard to tell if he was even breathing. He just stared on as you talked, watching as you occasionally gesticulated to emphasise yourself. 

“And you!” He raised a brow at you, as if to say ‘me?’ “I’ve grown to care for you, Reno Ichikawa. More than I should ever admit.” You both frowned slightly, knowing these are words better left unsaid. “And I thought…I thought I’d lost you out there.”

The two of you had grown close over the many months that he’d been enlisted into your division. He often came to you for advice, you were wise beyond your years. You’d seen too much and lost too many to not have learned from your mistakes, Reno saw that and wanted to learn too. He’d found a friend in you, and you’d found hope in him.

“May I speak freely again, captain?” His voice wavered slightly, nervous again. 

“Y/N,” you breathed, “and you may.”

“Why me, Y/N?” he turned his body too you, looking deep into your eyes, searching for a sign, something, anything that would tell him he was understanding you wrong. 

You couldn’t answer. Truth is, you didn’t know why you cared so deeply about him. Your care led to babying him often. Treating his wounds yourself, being sure his suit was on properly, checking if his guns worked. He’d asked you to stop, politely, of course, and you did. For the most part. You could never stop caring about him, and the urge to do things for him never went away, but you respected his space and need to grow freely. That didn’t mean you wouldn’t watch him like a hawk. 

He had always felt the same to you, but scorched his emotions after you’d told him not to get attached. He’d thought you were referring to yourself. He took as a premature rejection. 

You stammered out what could loosely be called words, “I…erm…well…”

Before you could collect your thoughts, he took a step towards you. You froze at the close proximity, your mind and heart racing. “Tell me,” he whispered, “you’re always so good with words, what’s stopping you now?” He was barely arms lengths from you, you could feel his warmth. 

“I’ve never been good with emotions, Reno,” you didn’t know why you were so flustered. You’ve seen this man shirtless on multiple occasions as you dressed his wounds and kept a better composure then, than you are now. 

“You told me not to get too attached. Why won’t you listen to your own advice? You know that we…” he trailed off, but you knew what he was going to say. 

“Back then, what I meant was your emotions come with a price. I’ve seen grief kill just about as many as kaiju have. I was warning you that you must be prepared to pay if you care so much.” You peered up at him, his eyes softened, pieces falling into place for him. He reached for your arms, cupping your elbows, pulling you closer to him.

The curve of his arm brought his new scars into the light. You looked down to his worn hands and silently gasped. “Reno, when did you get these?” your fingers trailed over the freshly healed scars.

He pulled his arms from yours, “don’t do that,” he half-joked.

“Do what?”  

“Gush over me.”

You gave him a ‘really?’ look, “after everything we’ve just talked about, you think I’m not going to gush over them?” He sighed after you.

You gazed up at him through your lashes, a candied smile teasing your lips. “I don’t like them,” he admitted, crossing his arms in an attempt to hide them.

You fought the urge to ask why, but you were smarter than that, you knew why. To Reno, the scar were reminders of where he’d failed. “It wasn’t your fault, you know?” you started, keeping your voice soft and sweet, “you didn’t let that kaiju escape.” 

He gave you an upside-down smile, he wanted to appreciate your attempts at comforting him, but he couldn’t help but feel like you were just saying it to make him feel better.  He dropped his head slightly, taking in the sight of his arms. 

A pang shot through your heart. It saddened you to see him like this. You knew that eventually, this insecurity is what will drive him to be better and to keep improving, but to see him now, with this dullness in his eyes, it pained you.

“Oh, Ichikawa,” you reach out your equally worn hands and smoothed your fingers along one of his scars. “These aren’t because you’re bad,” his eyes found your own, his body shivering at your touch. “They serve as reminders that we are alive. Like the rings of a tree, they show how far you’ve come. And when you’re old and grey, we can count them, and think back to the memories we’ve made and all the lives we’ve saved.”

You took his hands in your own, observing the callouses and bumps. “We?” he asked.

“We,” you said, “for us, I’m willing to pay the price.”

[last-flight-of-fancy]

hi hello i hope you don't mind but Special Interest Infodump Mode has been activated please keep hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times-

this explanation comes to us courtesy of Dark Road! You know, that cutesy little mobile game where literally the whole cast except the two protagonists dies. This is on brand bc the explanation has it's own fridge horror levels to it if i think too hard about it tbh.

So, worlds have hearts. We've known this since KH1, seen what happens to a world that loses its heart, and how they can be affected. It's rarely been expounded on beyond that however, aside vague allusions to the titular Kingdom Hearts being/harboring the Heart of All Worlds.

(which has. other implications now that i think about it but that's stepping into theorising territory. im sorry im trying really hard to stay on track honest)

fast forward to Dark Road, where we have a bunch of kids venturing out into the worlds for the first time, and as such have to have things explained to them (and thus the audience). NOW i will note here that KH looooooves unreliable narrators and characters imparting incorrect information without knowing it, so there is always the possibility that this could later turn out to be wrong, but currently I see no reason this would be the case and thus for now i feel safe in taking their words at face value unless otherwise contradicted.

Why are there no people? Because each world is alive, and after the Keyblade War sundering THE World into MANY Worlds, each needed to recover and restore what was lost; life, time, movement.

This bit here is important, bc as a result

All of this is the direct result of the Keyblade War of old. Even after so much time, the bits of worlds are *still* recovering, and I do think there's something to be said about how like... the repition between worlds and their apparent stagnation often *stops* after Sora visits them. I don't think it's because Sora's special(tm), but rather just because of who he is; the Dark Road kids are told never to interfere, and as a result the worlds they visit that Sora also visits later are exactly the same to Sora as they were 80+ years before.

But when Sora visits the same world only a short time after his first visit, things CHANGE. Hercules' story moves forward, Simba is having a crisis about being king, Jack Skellington has learned his lesson about Christmas and is on to new shenanigans. And that's only in kh2! in kh3 we see Twilight Town fill with people, barren Olympus expands into a full town (and there's more there too with BBS and how the Wayfinder Trio may have been Olympus' start towards restoring itself completely, and Sora's later arrival more speeding things along)

my point here is *connections*, which is a consistant and overarching theme of the series. Empty worlds are baby worlds, still healing and restoring from being broken away from the rest, and what helps along that healing? Being connected to others.

Which is to say that the keyblade weilder's doctrine of 'do not interfere' while most certainly well-intentioned (as Dark Road also points out, one persons darkness is anothers light, and morality is not a solid truth across worlds, so interfering is risky at best and dangerous at worst), the flip side to this is that without being connected, without that ''interferance'', the world's restoration stagnates and struggles. It will still get there eventually (the Tangled world seems to be doing alright for example), but chances are it might've been a little easier/faster if someone had done a little interfering.

tldr keyblade war broke the worlds and reset them all to zero. As the worlds heal time stops until it's People finally pop back into existance and their stories can resume. And that's how the invisible crowds in early kh games are canon.