#this had NO right to be so romantic. what in the goddamn hell!!!

[markantonys]

SAS ROGUE HEROES | 1x03

[runraerun]

Steddie Amnesia Ficlet: 2/3

-> Part 1 | Part 3 | AO3

cw: more head trauma/concussed!Steve discussions.

Steve hears Eddie call after him, but he doesn’t stop—he can’t face it. Not right now, anyway. Not when his eyes are stinging and his heart is pounding in his ears, each pulse more painful than the last. His legs take him to the building he’s supposed to go into, fueled purely by muscle memory. Not brain memory, of course, because nothing up there works properly anymore, apparently.

The Brain Injury Recovery Center.

It’s where Eddie expects him to go. He’ll catch Steve if he goes in, or he’ll wait for Steve by the doors until he comes back out—both options involve facing Eddie after Steve had made a total idiot of himself. Both feel utterly mortifying.

So he ducks into the alleyway beside the familiar brick building instead, just to catch his breath. It takes Steve longer than the average bear to sort out his feelings now, after all. Jesus, who’s he kidding? Everything seems to take him longer.

Steve feels hot tears streak down his cheeks before he angrily scrubs a sleeve over them. Of course Eddie isn’t his boyfriend. Eddie’s funny and cool and he’s in a band and he lights up every damn room he walks into—and Steve… well, maybe Steve was something a few years ago when he was in high school, and maybe he was even something before his accident, but now…

There’s a sharp clapping noise that sounds like thunder. A door slamming, Steve’s brain sluggishly supplies. It’s followed by shouting.

“Steve? Steve!” Eddie calls from somewhere on the street.

Steve’s heart feels like it’s going to fall out of his ass. His face is probably still blotchy and wet, his breathing hasn’t evened out yet and his eyes are still leaking like a goddamn faucet. He’s pathetic.

Can’t let Eddie see him like this…

He ducks behind a metal garbage bin, careful not to let anything but the bottom of his sneakers touch the sticky looking surfaces around him. It stinks, like rot.

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice echoes off of the alleyway walls. Steve claps a hand around his mouth to muffle out any of the pathetic sounds that seem determined to escape from him. So much of his body just does whatever the hell it feels like now. Out of Steve’s control, like everything else.

For a few, tense seconds, there’s silence. Eddie’s listening for him, maybe. Steve shuts his eyes and waits him out.

It feels like an eternity before he hears Eddie’s hurried, retreating footsteps, continuing his shouting for Steve. He sounds almost as panicked as Steve feels. Almost.

Steve gives a noisy, wet sniff and does one final scrub of his face before getting to his feet. He starts walking.

As he goes deeper into the alleyway, he thinks back on all the things he’s been wrong about. The fact that Eddie had some of his band t-shirts mixed in with Steve’s clothes… well, that was because they were both guys who wore about the same size, and Eddie left his shit everywhere. It’s no wonder some of his stuff got mixed into their laundry. And the times Eddie’s driven him places? That’s just… what friends do, Steve supposes. And all those times Eddie made Steve laugh? Made him feel like the center of the universe? Well, that’s just… Eddie. He must make everyone feel that way. It’s like his super power. But it isn’t romantic… It doesn’t mean anything more than Eddie being a magnetic person.

Steve is just so stupid. Painfully so.

He blinks as the sun hits him. He must’ve reached the other side of the alleyway.

Steve cups a hand over his eyes and grimaces. His migraine wasn’t backing down. He sighs. Time to head back.

Steve turns back into the alleyway he’d emerged from, only he’s about halfway through when he realizes the color of the buildings on either side of him are wrong. They’re brown on one side, painted green on the other. That isn’t right…

His heart jackrabbits in his chest, but he keeps walking forward. Maybe he’ll recognize the street once he’s back on the other side.

But when he gets there, it’s as unfamiliar to him as the alleyway. Steve turns, looking up and down the road to see if he could spot Eddie, or his van, or the Center. But there’s nothing.

And when someone shoulder checks him, Steve supposes he was sort of asking for it, standing in the middle of the sidewalk like that. He apologizes, but it’s too late. The person’s already out of range to hear him.

It’s as if everyone else is on fast forward while Steve’s stuck on pause. The world keeps moving along while all he seems to be able to do is watch it go by.

Why would he ever think someone as dynamic and spirited as Eddie would hitch his horse onto Steve’s busted up, barely mobile cart?

Stupid, stupid, stupid…

He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes and wills himself not to start blubbering again like a goddamn baby. His life is already one big, painful lesson in humility as it is, he doesn’t need to wallow in it.

Steve keeps walking. Figures he’ll spot something, or someone familiar to him eventually. The pounding in his head’s eased off to a dull ache, at least. Maybe there was something to this exercise and fresh air thing the doctors were always going on about, after all…

The thing is though, Steve doesn’t spot anything familiar. Not even vaguely so, and it’s not until the streetlights turn on that he realizes he’d spent the majority of the day wandering around the streets like some lost dog that managed to slip his leash.

It’s cold too, and all he’s got on is jeans and a polo. It’s October, isn’t it? No wonder he’s got goosebumps all up and down his arms.

Then, he finally spots something familiar; a phone booth. Steve breathes a sigh of relief. He’d just call his parents. They’d come pick him up.

He gets the booth and lifts the receiver before he blanks. A quarter. He’d need that. Duh, Harrington. So he hangs up the phone and pats his pockets until he finds a wallet, but all that’s inside of it are a couple of crisp bills. He’d need to break one.

Steve turns, scans the street until he spots a well lit, invitingly warm looking diner. The joint looks so damn cozy that he forgets to make sure the street is clear before he steps out into the middle of it.

Tires screech, harmonizing with the horn that’s blasting at him—Steve flinches, reaching up to cover his head and braces for impact.

To his great relief, the hit never comes. Which, thank fuck. He can’t afford anymore accidents. As it is Robin’s threatened to make him wear a helmet full-time.

Steve doesn’t listen to whatever the person yells at him, he just hurries to get the hell out of his way of the other moving vehicles.

“Smooth, Harrington. Real smooth.” He mutters to himself as he catches his breath.

He pushes the door to the diner open with shaking hands, but it’s blissfully peaceful inside, and he can actually feel his insides unclench as he stands inside of it.

“Sit anywhere, hun, I’ll be right with you.” A woman’s voice tells him. Steve nods and slips into the nearest booth overlooking the street. Watches the cars go by. There’s even a couple of cop cars, sirens blaring, lights flashing. Steve wonders briefly what sort of emergency they’re rushing off to when the waitress comes to his table.

“What can I get you, handsome?” She asks, cheery and warm like the rest of the diner.

“Uh…” Steve frowns, taking a few seconds to process the question, “nothing. I’m just waiting for my parents to come pick me up.”

The waitress taps the side of the notepad. “Well you gotta order something, hun, or you can’t stay here.”

Steve wants to stay here. It’s warm and smells fucking amazing, like “pancakes?”

She waitress smirks. “Yeah, we got those. You want a stack?”

“Yeah, please.” Steve smiles back, laughing along with the waitress like he’s in whatever joke that’s currently so amusing to her. “I’m starving.”

“You want some coffee too, to help you sober up, maybe?”

“Oh, I’m not drunk.” He huffs out a little self deprecating laugh, “I wish. No, I—uh, my meds, they’re the kind that you can’t mix with alcohol. Coffee too. Bummer, right? Yeah… But, uh, it is what it is, I guess—so…”

He can feel it. The way his mind so often wanders. He’s lost his train. His track. He frowns, eyes drifting towards the street again, watching the headlights zip by.

“…so just the pancakes then?” The waitress asks, jolting his train back onto its rails. His attention snaps back onto her.

“Yeah, pancakes. Sure.” Steve flashes her what he hopes is a charming smile.

She returns his smile and leaves him be, and he lets himself relax. Props his head up on a fist and watches life go on for everyone else but him.

He gets his pancakes, and some juice too that he doesn’t remember ordering, but hey, that’s nothing new. And damn, the pancakes taste even better than they smell. He needs to remember the name of this place so he can come back with everyone. What did the doctors say? Repeat something in your head over and over until it sticks. Repetition. Repetition, repetition, repetition…

It’s around the time his fork hits an empty plate that one of the police cars stops in front of the diner window, lights on, but the sirens are off now.

Hopper steps out.

Huh. That’s weird. Steve wonders what sort of emergency he’s here for.

When Hopper enters through the glass doors, the bell hung over the entry way rings out pleasantly. An angel getting their wings.

His eyes land on Steve and the older man sighs, shoulders falling. Relief, Steve recognizes. Hopper pulls the radio from his belt and says something into it before stomping over.

Then it clicks.

Oh. Steve’s the emergency.

He feels his face heat up. The handful of other patrons scattered across the diner are all looking at him.

“There you are.” Hopper sighs, gruff and exasperated.

Steve sinks into his seat, just a little. “Shit. I fucked up, didn’t I?”

“Just a little.” Hopper chuckles dryly. He takes off his hat and slips into the booth across from Steve, apparently not in any sort of hurry now that he’s found the runaway dog.

Steve runs a hand through his hair, a nervous tic he’s developed. “Sorry.”

“Nah, don’t be sorry. Just strangle Munson for me when you see him next, will ya?” Hopper drops his hat onto the table and waves the waitress down. He orders a coke.

Munson. Eddie.

The memory of how he made a total and utter fool of himself comes rushing back, slamming down onto him like one of those cartoon anvils. Jesus, how did he forget that..?

Suddenly the pancakes aren’t sitting so good in his gut. Feels like he’s gonna ralph.

“Was he freaked out? Eddie, I mean.” Steve asks, cautiously approaching the question. Did Eddie say anything about why…?

“Yeah, him and Robin both. Then the kids found out too—don’t ask me how. I suspect the curly-haired one has an illegal transmitter.” Hopper leans back in the booth as the waitress drops off his coke. He takes the straw out and drinks it right from the glass. Steve waits for him to finish, doesn’t say a word.

When Hopper puts the glass down, Steve just sits and watches the way the drops of condensation run down the cup, distorting around the fingerprints Hopper’s left. “Anyway, they’re all out on their bikes looking for you too.”

Hopper smiles fondly, like it’s something charming and not… pathetic. “You got a lot of people that care about you, kid.

Steve swallows around the lump in his throat, and nods. Tries for a grin, but it’s weak. Probably wouldn’t fool anyone, much less a cop. “Yeah, I’m a real lucky guy.”

Hopper looks like he wants to say something else, but he just takes a breath and nods. Steve’s grateful he doesn’t argue. Doesn’t think he has the energy in him right now to fend off the ‘but look how far you’ve come!’ ‘Your speaking’s gotten so much better!’ ‘It could be a whole heck of a lot worse!’ comments.

“What do you say we get you home? Unless you want dessert? My treat.” Hopper offers with a grin.

“No, I just want to go to sleep,” he says, before remembering his manners, “thanks, though.”

“Alright then.” Hopper glances down at the cleared plate of pancakes and the half finished coke before sliding out of the booth, followed by Steve. He takes out wallet, but Steve beats him to it. He tosses down a few bills, hoping it’s enough. Hopper doesn’t comment, so it must be.

The drive back to his and Robin’s apartment is a solemn one, but it’s strangely peaceful. Hopper’s got the heat on full blast due to Steve’s lack of coat, and the motion of the vehicle along with the darkened sky leaves Steve feeling wrung out in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time.

In fact, when they finally arrive, Hopper’s gotta shake his shoulder to wake him up.

“We’re here.” He rumbles out in his gruff baritone.

Steve lifts his head from his folded arm and looks up at the modest building. He wonders how far they live from the pancake diner. If they could walk there, sometime, him and Robin and Eddie.

But then Steve realizes he never got the name of it. He feels his insides sink. Another thing lost to him.

“Thanks, Hop,” Steve gives Hopper a nod and what he’s sure is a tired smile. “I’ll, uh—I’ll try not to run off again.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it.” Hopper says, diplomatically. “Let me walk you in.”

Steve cringes at the idea. He’s grateful for Hop and all he’s done—especially the part about not making him feel like a complete dummy—but he just wants this all to be over and for things to revert back to how they were. And at this point he’s so close he can taste it.

Steve busies his hands by undoing his seat belt. “No, it’s okay, really—“

Hopper looks like he’s about to argue but Robin damn near crashes out through the building’s illuminated front doors. She makes a b-line for Steve, who’s just barely gotten out of the cruiser.

She wraps her arms around him and doesn’t let go. “Steve! Holy shit, you scared me so bad. I’ve been out of my mind!”

Steve’s arms are trapped at an awkward angle, but he reaches around her as best he can, arms like flippers. “I’m okay. Seriously. Look, not even a scratch.”

She doesn’t laugh. Just squeezes him harder. Truthfully, Steve doesn’t know if he’s okay, but it’s what everyone always seems to want to hear from him, so he says it often.

“I’ve already killed Eddie like three times.” Robin murmurs into Steve’s chest, before finally pulling away. Her eyes are bloodshot, her nose stuffy, like she’s been crying.

“It’s not his fault, Rob.” Steve’s brows pinch together as he frowns, “is he…”

But when Steve looks up towards their building, he can see Eddie standing in the doorframe, his dark silhouette illuminated by the entry way lights. He’s still as a statue, holding open the door for them, arm extended out into the cold autumn night. Steve’s insides squirm.

“You got him from here, Buckley?” Hopper calls from his cruiser and Robin ducks to meet his eye before giving him a thumbs up. She loops her arm around his waist and they start towards their place—towards Eddie.

Before they reach him, Steve keeps his voice down as he asks, “Can I just go to bed? I don’t—I can’t talk about it right now.”

“Okay.” She nods, “I get it.”

But she doesn’t, not really.

Steve avoids eye contact with Eddie when they finally reach the building, and before he can say anything, Robin interrupts. “He’s going straight to bed. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Eddie says in a small voice. He doesn’t argue. Doesn’t even follow them back up to their apartment. Maybe Eddie’s even relieved he doesn’t need to confront it tonight. Maybe they won’t ever confront it… maybe he’s hoping Steve’s brain will take care of everything and make him forget. Make it like it never happened. Part of Steve wishes—

No. He doesn’t wish that. His brain’s already functioning at half capacity, he doesn’t want to thank it for fucking up, even if it might make Steve’s life easier.

Whatever Eddie’s expression is, Steve doesn’t look back to find out. He keeps his eyes on his feet, focusing on putting one step ahead of the other.

When they finally arrive at Steve’s matchbox sized bedroom, he doesn’t even bother changing into pajamas, or even out of his jeans for that matter. He just falls into his bed, pulls a pillow over his head and wills himself to let go of the day and surrender to the sweet pull of blissful unconsciousness.

🫣 Oops, I made it worse. But I promise the Eddie and Steve confrontation is in the next part! 🙏 This is tagged angst with a happy ending for a reason.

Tag List: (message me to add or remove yourself.)

@morallyundefined @estrellami-1 @ollieolive @mugloversonly @wheneverfeasible @steddiefication @what-if-a-dragon @wrenisfangirling @yesdangerpls @flustratedcas @scarletyeager @snowstar2368 @starxlark @sofadofax @lawrencebshoggoth @stevesworldxx @jizzing-bastard-600and69 @bambibiest @queenie-ofthe-void @lilpomelito @bananahoneycomb @kaspurrcat @deadwhiterosesstuff @dame-zoom-a-lot @3vilpurpl3d0t @loudmariachibands @steddieislife

[unclewaynemunson]

It wasn't the first time Eddie woke up to an empty bed after having someone spend the night. But it for sure was the first time it caught him by surprise.

He had been pretty sure things were different, with Steve. There was a real, proper date before they ended up in Eddie's bed together, after all. They held hands, they cuddled, they did all the romantic shit that Eddie used to scoff at and skip right past, before he got to know Steve Harrington. It hadn't felt like it was just about the sex: there had been tender touches and sweet words and soft kisses, and falling asleep in each other's arms afterwards had felt more intimate than anything Eddie had ever experienced before. So it didn't make sense to wake up and see no trace of Steve. No note, not a single piece of evidence that Steve had been there, not even something as dumb as a forgotten sock. Nothing.

As he went through his morning ritual of coffee, cereal and cigarette, he felt confusion make place for anger. By the time he was dressed and looking at himself while brushing his teeth in front of the crappy old bathroom mirror, he wondered how he could ever have been stupid enough to think that Steve would stay. The realization that Steve had apparently only used him to get what he wanted and dropped the act as soon as that happened, made him feel gross. He spit out his toothpaste with way more force than necessary and jumped in his van to tell Steve exactly that Eddie wasn't the kind of guy who tolerated being toyed with like that.

-----

When Eddie barged into Family Video, Steve was standing at one of the shelves with a big pile of tapes in his arms, the store empty and quiet except for some movie playing on the big screen in the background.

He looked up at the sound of the bell, and actually had the audacity to smile a soft, almost tender smile when he saw Eddie coming in.

"Hey there."

And, well, that truly did it for Eddie.

"Hey there?!" he repeated in a loud, shrill voice. "Seriously, Steve? What the hell, man? You sneak out of my bed after making me think what we did actually meant something, and now you greet me with a "hey there" like nothing has even happened?!"

Steve frowned; he looked genuinely surprised. Seriously, had none of the dozens of girls he probably pulled this on ever told him off? Or were they all worth staying for, contrary to Eddie the Freak Munson?

"Wha- What do you mean, making you think it meant something?" Steve stuttered. "It meant something. At least," he shrugged lightly and his cheeks colored into a light shade of pink, "to me it did."

For obvious reasons, Eddie found that a little bit hard to believe.

"Then why the hell did you sneak away at the crack of dawn like it was just some goddamn one-night stand?!"

Steve stared at him for a couple of seconds, his mouth falling open. Eddie had seen him look confused plenty of times before, but never like this - like he was missing something huge.

"I - I was allowed to stay?" Steve finally uttered. And it sounded so genuine, so small, so lost... All Eddie's anger easily got knocked out of him with that one question.

"You thought you weren't allowed to stay?" he asked, in a much softer voice this time.

Steve shrugged, suddenly avoiding Eddie's gaze.

"Yeah, I mean... I just assumed..." He swallowed visibly, seemingly searching for words. Finally, he fixed his eyes back on Eddie's face. "You actually wanted me to stay?" It sounded equal parts confused as hopeful, and the look in his brown eyes was so soft and innocent that it almost broke something inside of Eddie.

"Why the hell did you think I wouldn't?"

"I dunno, I just thought..." He looked away again, to a point just behind Eddie's shoulder as he continued, "Whenever a girl would come to my place, they'd always leave right after we finished. Or when I'd come to theirs, they'd have me leave through the window before their parents would notice. Some of them wanted to cuddle for a bit afterwards, but not, like, the whole night, y'know."

"Fuck, Stevie... I -" Eddie could barely believe what Steve was saying; it truly blew his mind that there were so many people who could have Steve Harrington in their bed and not want to keep him there forever. It made him furious - not at Steve, obviously, but at those girls who had made this perfect boy believe that he wasn't the kind of person people would want to keep around for what came after the sex.

"Falling asleep with you last night... That was the best thing that ever happened to me," he told Steve. It felt vulnerable, to say it out loud, but he knew he had to get it all out in the open. "I mean, don't get me wrong, the things we got up to before falling asleep were also pretty damn mind-blowing..." He couldn't help but chuckle. "But of course I wanted you to stay. I thought that would speak for itself."

"Oh," was the only thing Steve said, just blankly staring at Eddie for a couple of seconds. Then, his eyes widened as Eddie's words finally seemed to sink in. "Shit, Eddie, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to -"

"It's okay," Eddie cut him off. "Can you uh," he nodded towards the video tapes in Steve's hands, "Put those away, please?"

Steve placed the pile on the shelf behind him and Eddie immediately launched himself into his arms, pulling him as close as humanly possible without crushing his bones.

With a surprised Oomph! Steve took a few stumbling steps backwards before he caught his balance again, and hugged Eddie back just as tight.

"I'm really sorry, I messed up," he said, his mouth close to Eddie's ear. "I had no idea. If I had known, I would never have left, seriously. I would've called in sick and made you pancakes, and I would've stayed with you in bed all day."

"It's okay," Eddie repeated. "I mean, it's frankly ridiculous that you'd assume I wouldn't want you around every single fucking morning from now on, but -"

"So can I make it up to you tonight?" Steve interrupted him, an eager undertone to his question. "Or actually tomorrow morning, I guess?"

Eddie leaned back slightly to see Steve's face. He was hesitantly smiling at him, and Eddie gave him a beaming smile in return. Then, he leapt forward again to press an impetuous kiss against Steve's lips.

"How 'bout you make it up to me every day from now on, big boy?"

"I dunno, making you pancakes every day from now on is a bit much, don't you think?"

Eddie laughed. "Then the deal's off, sorry."

"What if we take turns?"

He pretended to think for a moment. "Alright, I think I can live with that," he finally concluded, letting Steve pull him closer again to steal another kiss. And as long as he could taste Steve's lips, he couldn't care less about pancakes.

[dazed-and-confused23]

Dear Hearts and Gentle People 4

Summary: After their reunion at the Atomic Wrangler, Cooper decides that he wants more than just a quickie out of his wandering trader.

Pairings: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard x Female Reader

Warnings. Drug use and Alcohol. Fluff and Smut. Little longer than the other ones ❤️

DHGP Masterlist

Cooper sits on the side of the bed, inhaler in hand as he stares down at the chem. You are still asleep behind him, body tangled in the sheets, exhausted after the exciting reunion between the two of you. You had been a breath of fresh air for the ghoul, especially after finding out the truth behind the fate of his family, and then Lucy, the vaultie, had left him too. Gone back home to her vault to save them from those goddamn Bud's Buds.

Cooper had elected to stay in Vegas. He likes the city, and the booze was cheap, and the chems were even cheaper if you knew where to get them. However, now that the ghoul was borderline sober, and with you by his side, Cooper realized that he'd had something to look forward to. To live for again. You.

Every time the two of you had crossed paths, you never failed to send the ghoul's black heart racing. You were a wastelander through and through, but you were good, and Cooper didn't want to let that go. No. He would hold on tight, and nothing in heaven or hell would get him to let you go.

First thing first, however, was to show you that he was serious and that he cared for you beyond a quick fuck and drug transactions. Cooper turned in the bed and leaned over you, tucking his knuckle under your chin and kissing you until you woke up. A soft sigh escaped you when the ghoul pulled away, and you opened your eyes to see him above you.

"Well, that's one way to wake a girl up," you murmur, and shift to your back, opening your arms so that Cooper can fall against your chest, his face pressed in the crook of your neck. You hum softly and press a kiss to his bald head, "What's got you in such a good mood?"

Cooper buries himself against you, shoving his arms under you so that he can hold you close. He listens to your heartbeat, and the sound of content he makes sounds more like a cat purr than anything else. He debates with himself before deciding to hell with it.

"Let me take you out. On a proper date," He began, and the more he spoke, the more he felt like his old self, Cooper Howard, before the end of the world, "You deserve it after everything you've done for me."

You eyed him, though your lips were already turning up at the idea. Who knew your ghoul was such a romantic? You tilt your head to the side, "Oh? And what did you have in mind?"

Cooper rises to his elbow and admires how your hair halos around your face. You are beautiful, even sleepy-eyed, and dressed in nothing but your panties.

"We're in Vegas, Baby. Let's make the most of it."

~~~~~

Mick and Ralph's had a surprising number of preserved prewar clothing, and you picked through the dresses looking for the perfect fit. You spotted a cute, blue number that would hug you in all the right places and billow out at the waist. Mick even had a cute pair of kitten heels that he gave you on the house.

Cooper had also done some digging around and conveniently found one of his old set costumes. The colors were faded, but they looked brand new compared to the get-up he always wore. Dressed to impress, the ghoul admired himself in the cracked mirror. If you ignored the obvious, Cooper looked like he'd just come off set of A Man and His Dog.

He wold whistles when you step out of the back room, and even though you're custom to his flirty behavior, you still blush bright and give Cooper a tiny grin. You've never had an opportunity to wear something so nice before, and it made you feel different, but not in a bad way.

"Well, look at you, Darlin'. All dressed up and beautiful for little ol' me," He crooned and snagged your hand, spinning you in a slow circle so that he could admire you from all angles. You give him a smile so full of fond amusement that Cooper’s heart stutters in his chest.

"Only for you, Cowpoke," you say and curl your hand behind his head to tug him down for a quick kiss that Cooper melts into.

After paying Mick and Ralph, Cooper escorts you to the gate of the Strip where the securitrons let the two of you by after flashing the passports you'd paid the shop owners for. Inside, the flashing neon lights made you squint, and you did your best to take it all in at once.

"A lot's changed since the last time I've been here," Cooper comments and casts his gaze around. It's been over two hundred years, but the Vegas Strip still felt the same. The two of you bypass Gomorrah and the Ultra Lux, and instead, head for the Tops where a man with blonde, slicked-back hair greets them with a suave grin.

"Hey, hey cats. My name is Swank. Welcome to the Tops Casino. The floor is open, and Tommy's got some real class acts tonight on stage if you're interested."

The two of you hand over any weapons that couldn't be concealed and head upstairs to the theater. A live band is playing on stage, and a place has been cleared in the middle of the room for dancing. Cooper leads you to a corner booth and drops to kiss your brow before he lopes off to order you both a drink.

From there, the night goes off without a hitch. The two of you drink til you feel tipsy and brazen enough to tug the ghoul out to the dance floor where Cooper upstages you and everyone else there. He twirls and dips you, leaving you a giggling mess and eyes only for him.

At some point, Cooper gets the grand idea to spend some caps on some chips, and you stand beside him as he cleans the blackjack table, coming away with more chips that you have to help him carry back to the exchange desk. The two of you eventually stumble out of the Tops and mosied back down the road to Gomorrah.

Their weapons are confiscated once more, and Cooper pays the receptionist for a hotel room for later on. He doubted that they would be sober enough to leave this place later on.

His hunch was right hours later when the two of you stumbled to the elevator. Coop's arm is tight around your waist, holding you close to keep you from tipping over. You cling to him, giggling as you wind your arms around his neck, and he catches your eyes, glassy from the jet that one of the dancers had given you.

"Your eyes are so pretty, ya know that?" You slur, and Cooper snickers as he leads you out of the elevator and down the hall to the room he'd rented. He's not nearly as gone as you, but he chalks that up to being used to the substance abuse.

You plop on the bed and reach back for the zipper of your dress, feeling too constricted in the blue fabric, and get stuck with it halfway off. Cooper laughs at you and comes to help, tugging the dress away and tossing it behind him before he pounces.

His lips meet yours in a slow kiss, a gentle give and take that turns heated when you bite his lip hard enough to hurt. You sooth it with your tongue, and groan when Cooper curls his own around the slippery muscle, the kiss wet and sloppy. He looms over you, keeping himself propped up with his elbow, while his other hand grips your waist, and rocks his hips down.

Cooper groans into the kiss when his clothed cock meets the heat between your thighs. You buck against him, whining into the kiss and demanding he take his damn pants off already.

"Patience, young grasshopper," Cooper rumbles above you and slides off the bed to button his shirt and jeans. He folds them almost reverently before he turns back to the bed and crawls on top of you, "Great things come to those who wait."

You scoff at him, though your lips are tilted up in amusement, "I've been waiting forever, Coop."

Your legs fall open and wrap around his waist. You are so wet that the ghoul can see slick glistening in the low light of the room where it clings to your puffy folds. He swallows harshly when you reach down and spread them, giving him an excellent view of your clit and twitching hole.

"Now I want you to fuck me like you mean it."

Cooper doesn't need to be told twice and spits in his hand before wrapping it around his cock and stroking himself twice before he lines up and sinks down to his balls. Your cunt throbs around him, pulling him impossibly closer, and he falls forward, hips humping forward as you cling to him.

Coop fucks you like it's his last day on Earth. He shifts to his knees, and his cock slips even further, pressing against something inside you that makes stars shatter. You curse loudly, Cooper’s name falling from your lips like a mantra as he hooks your legs over his shoulders and bends you over. The new position makes it hard to breathe, but all you want is more.

"'M close," Cooper grunts in your ear, and you lock your knees around his head, meeting him thrust for thrust as you work for your release. He unlocks his jaw and bites into the hollow of your throat. The pain is enough to send you over the edge, your pussy fluttering and gushing around the ghoul's cock.

"Ah-fuck," He snarls and follows you right over the edge, pumping you full of seed until it dribbled out from your stuffed cunt. He finds your lips kissing you as he rides out his orgasm, hips jerking when you tighten around him.

Cooper lays there, breathing you in and curling his arms tight around your waist. He is far too tired to move, and you don't seem to mind the extra weight with how tightly you hold him back. The ghoul feels at peace as if a part of his life he'd been missing has slotted back into place. He raises his head just enough to catch your eyes, and you reward him with an adoration-filled smile, but it's your words that cause his heart to explode like an atomic bomb.

"I love you."

You don't expect Cooper to pull you in for another kiss, this one soft and slow. He rests his brow against yours and wonders how he ever made it this far without you.

"I love you, too."

Holy moly, that got way sweeter than I intended. I hope you enjoyed it!❤️

[freedomfireflies]

404*

Summary: The one where you and Harry are software engineers on a project for Juno Inc.

And you can’t fucking stand each other.

Word Count: 2.6k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

(Note: This edit is not mine!! I believe the @ is on it, but full credit to the incredible creator! It's so perfect!!)

“What the hell are you still doing here?”

Your eyes never leave the computer screen as Harry’s familiarly snippy question echoes across the empty lab. “Working,” you answer simply.

He snorts as the door falls shut behind him. “It’s two in the fucking morning, I thought you left hours ago.”

“I did. And then I came back.”

You vaguely hear him walk further into the dark room, slipping around the different tables as he moseys his way closer. “Why?”

“S’this fucking sequence,” you mumble, now glaring at the different variants that litter the test. “Every time I run the simulation, the connection fails. And it shouldn’t.”

Your peripheral catches the way he uses his knuckle to push his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “Is there a missing link?”

“There shouldn’t be. I’ve run it before, and it’s worked fine. But now it’s not. It’s like something is broken.”

“Or missing,” he argues, coming to a stop behind your chair. He studies the project from over your shoulder, and you feel your muscles recoil when you get a whiff of his cologne. “There could be something wrong with the back end.”

“Okay, well, there’s not,” you retort, shooting him a quick glare. “I already checked.”

“Well maybe you missed it. You have a tendency to misplace things.”

“I didn’t misplace it, Harold, I studied every inch of that fucking code, and there was nothing broken or missing.”

He leans back, arms crossing as he regards both you and the program. “Maybe you should check it again.”

“And maybe you should bite me,” you huff, too overworked to deal with the snarky attitude. “I really don’t have time for this today, all right? Can you just leave me to it?”

“I’d like to, but clearly you don’t know what you’re doing,” he replies calmly, and even without looking at him, you can sense his smug smile. “Every time I leave you to it, I come back to find out you’ve wrecked our project.”

Your eyes roll. “First of all, it’s not our project. It’s my project. And second…why are you even here? I thought you had shit to do tonight.”

“I did, but I’m done now.”

“Oh, so, naturally you came back just to annoy me?”

“Naturally.” He places his hand on the desk beside you and leans down, hovering near your arm as he glances over the computer. “There could be something wrong with the framework. Try the sequence again, I wanna see how it behaves.”

“No thanks.”

Harry smirks, and you realize you don’t like how close his face is. “Relax, Tinkerbell, I just wanna help.”

“And I don’t want your help,” you remind him, using your elbow to shove him to the side. “I’ve spent months with this program, it’s my baby, and I will fix it alone.”

“We’re supposed to be working together,” he argues, but it’s much too coy. “So stop being such a bitch and just run the goddamn sequence.”

You snort under your breath as you spin around in your chair to look at him. “It was that bad, huh?”

He settles back against the table behind him, hands shoving into his pockets as he stares right back. “What was bad?”

“The sex.” You jut your chin toward him. “The thing you had to do tonight. It was bad enough that you had to come back here and start swinging your dick around just to feel better.”

He smirks, tongue running over his bottom lip. “It was fine.”

“Fine? Gee, how romantic.”

He exhales an amused laugh and glances around the lab. “She was still hung up on her ex. Think it lasted all of fifteen minutes, and I’m pretty sure she faked it.”

“Well, she was having sex with you. Of course she faked it.”

His smile gets a bit bigger. “Well, I faked it, too.”

“You?” you scoff. “No way. She could have sneezed on your cock, and you still would have cum.”

His head shakes, grinning wildly. “Normally, yeah. But we both just wanted to get out of there.”

“Poor girl.”

“Yeah? What about poor me?”

“Oh, I never feel sorry for you. You always find a way to get what you want eventually.”

His head tilts, green eyes sparkling behind the tortoiseshell frames of his glasses. “Do I?”

“Clearly.” You settle back into your chair, legs crossing. “I mean, have you ever heard the word no in your life?”

“Hear it all the time with you.”

“Exactly. I’m doing you a favor.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. I’m keeping you humble.”

“Is that right?”

“It is.”

That smug look of endearment returns as the lab falls silent. He watches you for quite some time, and you think that you’d pay anything to hear what he’s really thinking.

Then, he smirks. “Good,” he says, and with that, he’s pushing off the desk and striding to you.

He bridges the five-foot gap between you with ease, and you aren’t even afforded the chance to take a breath before he’s grabbing hold of your face and kissing you.

His large body bends in order to reach you in the chair, but you can feel him tugging on you. Encouraging you up and into his hold as you gasp against his mouth and allow him to help you stand.

It’s a seamless dance. Familiar. He grabs onto your hips and slams you onto the desk, knocking a few pens and some of the various equipment out of the way.

His hands are sliding up your shirt. Memorizing the expanse of your skin as his lips press into your neck. Nipping and sucking just below your ear in the way he knows you love.

Your fingers have disappeared into his curls. They’re soft and oddly comforting. Perfect to tug on as you whimper gently and arch your back. Pressing your tits against his chest as he groans.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he murmurs, now sliding his hand toward the zipper on your jeans.

You nod quickly, mewling as you practically buck into his touch.

He smiles, mouth trailing across your jaw, “I was thinking about someone else, too.”

Your lashes flutter shut.

“The whole time,” he carries on, rough fingertips dancing down the front of your underwear. “When I was with her. Couldn’t think about anybody else but you. Every time she’d whine or say my name, I thought about how you’d do it. How you’d sound, how you’d feel.”

Your nails scratch down his black t-shirt, needing more than anything to feel his skin. See it littered with your marks. Your claim.

“She could never do it right,” he tells you, and it makes your stomach wrench. “Never do it like you.”

“Yeah?” you manage to breathe, wiggling in an effort to help him yank your pants down. “S’that why you couldn’t get hard?”

He grins as he flicks his belt undone. “Who says I couldn’t get hard?”

With a rather determined tug, he shoves your panties to the side, large hands stroking through your folds.

“Because if I’m thinking about you,” he whispers, eyes trained on your cunt, “I’m always fucking hard.”

You whine when he thrusts inside, two fingers to start. He’s rarely gentle, but you love it. And so does he, obsessed with the image of your pussy stretching around him. Any part of him. His tongue, his hands, his cock.

He’s bigger than most, and he always makes sure to prep you before he gives you what you really want. Granted, he taunts you with the idea of ruining you and splitting your poor cunt in half each time. Driving himself to the hilt before your tight little hole is ready. He likes the idea of corrupting you for someone else. 

“Relax,” he instructs, soft but firm. “S’gonna hurt a lot more if you don’t.”

You drop your head back and balance yourself on your hands, legs pushed open by his hips. “I’m trying,” you whimper, just to see his jaw clench.

“Gonna have to try harder,” he says, working his fingers into your wet cunt while his glasses slowly begin to slip down his nose. Settling at a crooked angle, and it makes you smile. “Can’t give you my cock if you don’t.”

You push your lips into a pout. “Please, Har.”

He looks up, the veins in his neck prominent as he seems to swallow another groan. “You’re so tight, Tink. Gonna wreck this pretty pussy if I don’t get you stretched.”

“Good,” you moan, thighs shaking as he brings a third finger closer. “Want you to.”

He grins. “Yeah?”

You nod fervently. “Want you to do whatever you want. I’m always good for you. Always fit you.”

“You do,” he agrees quietly, the heel of his hand pressing into your clit as he works through your arousal at a quicker pace. “Always take me so well. Even when it makes you cry.”

You whine again at the thought as he finally yanks his fingers free and moves to retrieve his cock. 

You’re nearly salivating at the idea, scooting toward the edge of the table in preparation as he pulls himself out and steps up to you.

Your eyes widen when you see him. Hard and heavy in his hand, leaking the most delicious looking drops of pre-cum that you’re already thrilled he never offered this other girl.

He runs the tip through your folds a time or two, making you both squirm before he gently begins to push in.

You have to give him props for the amount of restraint he always demonstrates for you. The ability to go slow and be delicate despite the fact all he wants to do is ram himself inside you and settle into your warm cunt.

Like now. You can see the effects of such sluggish movements, the way he holds himself back until he’s sure you’ll be all right. Teeth gritting, muscles tensed, cock throbbing.

You reach out and gently slide his glasses back up, making sure they’re comfortable and that he can see all right before kissing him. “Okay…okay, go.”

He kisses you back quickly before studying you. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you whimper, hooking your leg around his hip. “Need it, Har, please.”

And that’s all it takes for him to sheath himself inside your aching pussy, disappearing completely between your legs as you both moan.

The quiet lab isn’t so quiet anymore, and you throw your arms around his neck as he begins to pull out and push back in.

“There she is,” he grunts, large hand squeezing your thigh to keep you still. “Look at you, Tink, taking me so well.”

“Always,” you exhale, pressing your mouth to his cheek. 

“Better than she ever was,” he continues, setting a quicker rhythm now. “So much better.”

He’s pounding you into the desk, hitting spots that make you see stars, and you clench around him until he gasps.

“Funny how well you take me…when you claim to hate me so much,” he says now, unable to resist needling you, and you whimper.

“I do,” you insist, despite the way you scratch down his back. “Fucking hate you.”

“Yeah?” His hips snap to yours. “S’that why you always beg for my cock?”

You don’t like the insinuation that you beg him for anything, especially when you know that he’s right. But you’re too far gone right now to take care, equally as depraved of pleasure as he seems to be.

The two of you don’t do this often. Maybe once or twice a month, if that. Most of the time, it’s incredibly unfriendly. A quick fuck in the supply closet or in his car in the parking lot. In between quippy remarks about how fucking unhinged the other is. How idiotic, and uncouth, and how goddamn annoying.

Because he is. So endlessly annoying and every day you have to resist the urge to slap those fucking glasses off his face.

But he knows how to fuck. That much is certain, and despite your immeasurable hatred for him, you can’t help but fall victim to his prowess.

In fact, moments like this are about the only time you don’t mind him. That you can actually stand him, and even want to submit to him.

Of course, you’re filled with regret and embarrassment the second you’re both finished, but for these few minutes…you don’t mind.

“Every fucking day,” he continues, holding onto your waist as he buries his cock deeper. “Have to watch you parade around like you’re fucking God’s gift to technology.”

You’d snort if you had enough air in your lungs to do so. 

“In your fucking tight little tank tops and see through dresses,” he seethes, dragging you back to the edge of the desk to angle you the way he likes. “With your hair always up in that stupid ponytail. Just begging to be pulled. To be yanked onto your knees while you take me down your throat.”

Your eyes roll back as you keen into his body. Memories of swallowing around him flooding your mind as you shiver.

Despite his aggravating remarks, he’s always so proud of you when you take his cock down your throat. He knows it’s a lot and he knows he can’t force you to do anything your body isn’t equipped to handle.

But he’s enamored with the way you try. Pleased to see you lick him, suck him, take as much of him as you can. He might hate you, but he praises you more than anybody else ever has.

And it’s one of the main reasons you can’t quit him.

“Then maybe…you shouldn’t look,” you pant, whimpering when he thrusts particularly hard. “I don’t wear that shit for you.”

He snorts, now grabbing onto your wrist and forcing your hand against your clit. He moves your fingers for you, pressing them into the sensitive nerves until you cry out and clamp down on him again.

“No?” he taunts, cock twitching inside you as he nears his release. “Then who do you wear it for, hm? Fucking Sam?”

You make another noise as he pushes your body into more immense pleasure, touch still locked atop yours.

“No, not Sam,” he decides. “Cause Sam can’t do it the way I can. S’why you came to me, isn’t it?”

You don’t dignify this with a response. You don’t have to. He knows.

“Sam can’t make you cum, can he?” Harry continues, almost vengefully as he feels you get closer. “Never fucking could. That’s why you only cum for me.”

It’s blinding. So intense that it makes your entire body ache as you fall victim to the wave of pleasure pulling you under.

He’s right behind you, spilling into your cunt before spilling out of it. Dripping down your legs, down the table, down his thighs as you both ride each other through the bliss.

He doesn’t let you release your clit for at least a good two minutes after, ignoring your pleas for mercy as your body struggles against the sensation.

It’s overwhelming. Hot, sticky, sweaty. He pulls out to go grab a towel from the supply closet before bringing it back and helping you clean up. 

He leaves a few teasing licks to your cunt in the process, and you swat your hand across his head in warning.

He smirks.

Once he’s finished, he pulls your jeans back on and up before tucking himself into his pants to do the same. 

Then, after helping you hop down, he offers you a lopsided grin and pushes his glasses back up.

“Now,” he says coyly, “go be a good girl and run the fucking sequence.”

Next Part:

~ Off the Shelf* (pt. 2)

~ Full 404 Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

~ Blurb Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282

[metalhoops]

‘Of course, I remember you.’ 

As far as first words go, Eddie’s were a hell of a head-scratcher. 

To catch up the uninitiated, everyone in the world has a soulmate. It’s been debated and speculated if a person can have more than one, but the mechanics behind soulmates was a pseudo-science at best and downright magic at worst. The first words a person’s soulmate spoke to them were inscribed somewhere on that person’s body, typically in their soulmate’s handwriting. 

Doesn’t handwriting change over time? The uninitiated might ask, to which Eddie would repeat, it’s pseudo-science or magic. Either that or something like quantum mechanics, where people are pretty sure, one day we’ll understand how it works, but right now there are a lot of theories and only a little bit of evidence, most of which contradicts itself.

Most of the time, the words are boring and wholly unhelpful. He could count on two hands the number of people that simply had some variation of ‘hello’, tattooed somewhere on their body. From Eddie’s point of view, he got lucky. 

He had a sentence of scratchy scrawl written on his inner arm stating, ‘of course, I remember you’. And really, what the hell was Eddie meant to make of that? 

Typically, your tattoo lets you know you’d found your soulmate upon first meeting, but his words implied he’d meet his soulmate before they first speak and that it would be memorable. Wasn’t that goddamn frustrating? 

His soulmate’s first words were right up there with ‘hello’ in Eddie’s list of ‘top five worse soulmate marks,’ because how the hell were those poor bastards meant to know if they’d just met the love of their life or if it was just their weird neighbour Tom? With his number one spot reserved for Gareth’s truly horrific, ‘I’d thought you’d be taller’. His soulmate was original. He’d give him that. 

There was no surefire way to know your soulmate’s gender, same as there was no surefire way for a mother to ‘just know’ a baby’s gender before it was born. Yet if Eddie was being sacrilegious, as he so often was, he’d say he ‘just knew’ his soulmate was a guy. 

There was nothing in the handwriting that gave it away. Nothing particularly ‘feminine’ or ‘masculine’ about the lettering. But ever since Eddie was a kid whenever he thought about his soulmate, he’d always think of them as ‘him’. 

He would like this or that. He wouldn’t be an asshole, like the meathead jocks at Hawkins. He would be different. He’d be kind, caring, and of course, a total badass. Eddie just had to wait to meet him. 

Steve’s soulmate mark drove him crazy. 

‘You might not remember me’. 

What the hell was Steve meant to do with that? Soulmate tattoos were meant to let you know when you’d met your soulmate, not that you’d already met them. In the days before Steve received the shake-up of his life in the form of Nancy Wheeler and the Upside Down, he had a reputation for sleeping around. He knew back then he’d been a little hopeless, but surely he’d said more than a couple of words to a girl before he slept with them. 

It horrified Steve that he could meet his soulmate, in some respect, know them, and yet had never talked to them. Could he really be that much of a jerk?

He’d never thought Nancy was his soulmate. He knew their words didn’t match up. That didn’t mean he loved her any less. Statistically, the odds of meeting your soulmate were somewhere between getting crushed by a vending machine and winning the lottery. Steve’s parents weren’t soulmates and boy did that show, but a guy could dream. Call him a hopeless romantic, but Steve was holding out hope for them. 

He’d almost thought his soulmate was Robin. It fit, right? They went to the same school, but they’d never really talked. He’d been so busy with his first day at a real job, he’d missed Robin’s first words to him. It wasn’t until later he’d started to expect it might be her. That was, until the pair were huddled beside each other on the floor of a bathroom stall. Robin was a lesbian and her first words, although interesting, definitely proved they weren’t soulmates. 

When Steve was a kid, he’d spend hours daydreaming about what his soulmate would be like. She’d be outspoken. She’d be bold. She’d be able to make him laugh. When he’d gotten older, something changed. He didn’t know how to put it into words, at least not ones he was ready to say out loud. ‘She’ didn’t fit his soulmate quite right. So after high school, he started wondering what ‘they’ would be like. ‘They’ felt not quite right, but closer. 

Their handwriting was distinct. It was all sharp-edges and odd-angles. It looked like it was trying to replicate something Steve couldn’t quite place until he walked into the record store at Starcourt and caught a glimpse of an Iron Maiden album cover. That gave Steve his first real clue as to what his soulmate might be like. 

It would be another year before the same handwriting would stop him in his tracks. Dustin had marched into the Family Video store as they were shutting up shop, brandishing a notepad and talking about needing a ride to go play his fantasy game. Steve was always going to drive Dustin, but he’d been dragging his feet, to show the kid he wouldn’t always drop everything to take him places. A familiar sharp edged, odd angled handwriting stopped Steve cold. 

“What are those?” Steve asked, trying to fain disinterest as his heart pounded in his ears. 

“They’re notes from the last session. You know, so we can keep track of what’s happened so far in the campaign. Who’s doing what quests, how many hit points everyone’s got. Mike is currently—.” Steve couldn’t give a crap about Mike. 

“Who’s writing is it?” Steve tried not to sound as desperate as he felt. 

Robin must have known something was up because she moved to Steve’s side. With one glance at the notepad, she understood why Steve was acting so strangely. She’d seen his tattoo, she knew it was his soulmate’s handwriting. 

“Our D.M.’s” Dustin replied. He might as well have been speaking in freaking code. 

“Alright, I’ll drive you,” Steve gave in, hoping he could catch a glance of his soulmate. Maybe his tattoo was wrong, maybe he’d know his soulmate when he saw them. 

They pulled up outside of the high school. He saw a group of people loitering outside the auditorium. Dustin had brought a lot of loose sheets of paper, so it only made sense Steve helped him carry his notebooks in. Most of the people there were familiar faces, the kids he’d babysat with a few exceptions. 

“Well, if it isn’t our favourite bard. I’m glad you decided to grace us with your presence,” an oh-too-familiar voice crooned. A boy broke away from the crowd to meet Dustin. 

He was Steve’s age. They’d gone to school together. The dude used to do all these weird soap-box sessions on their lunch table. They had gym together, and history. Steve didn’t think the two had ever actually spoken.  

“I would’ve been here quicker if I hadn’t had to play twenty questions with Steve. Steve, you know Eddie, our D.M.? Weren’t you two in the same year?” 

Eddie was practically shooting daggers at Dustin’s side profile, shaking his head discreetly as though hoping Steve didn’t remember who he was. He supposed Eddie always had a reputation. 

“You might not remember me,” Eddie spoke before Steve could answer. 

Holy shit.

“Of course, I remember you,” Steve argued and watched as Eddie’s eyes swelled to the size of dinner plates. 

Both boys stood, slack-jawed and stiff-shouldered, peering at one another. Steve’s brain short-circuited, because holy shit, Eddie Munson was his soulmate. Holy shit he’d found them, him. 

Steve dropped Dustin’s notes and swarmed forward without thinking, throwing his arms around Eddie. Much to his surprise, instead of freaking out, like any normal person, Eddie was waiting to catch him, leaving both of them to tumble ass backwards onto the parking lot asphalt.

They held each other in a bone-crushing hug. Steve buried his face in Eddie’s neck, surprised at how naturally the action came. He’d never hugged a man like this, hell he’d hugged no one like this. He was clinging so desperately to the man that he’d never thought he’d really find. Eddie pulled back slightly, trying to get a better look at Steve’s face. The guy’s eyes were alight with wonder and mischief. 

“That was quite an entrance, Harrington. All for little old me?” 

“I’ve been looking for you forever,” Steve admitted. 

“Well, clearly you’ve been doing a shit job of it,” Eddie argued which earned a snort from Steve. His soulmate would be able to make him laugh. 

“You’re not disappointed, you know? That your soulmate is the town Freak?” 

Steve had given up on caring about labels, on caring about what other people thought. Since high school, he had changed. He was different.  He didn’t want to be just another, shallow, meathead jock. He wanted to be different. 

“No. Absolutely not. Why would I care?” 

Dustin shattered the moment, clearing his throat and proclaiming,

“Alright, anyone care to tell me what the hell just happened?” 

[kaylapocalypse]

NOVA

I met a boy in a field.

His clothes were strange— but not too strange—and some of his words were unfamiliar—but not too unfamiliar.

He had been standing in the grass and looking up at the stars. He clutched something shining and bright in his hand.

When he heard me coming over, he turned and grinned.

“Wanna see something great?” He said “Come back here in fifty years and stand right in this spot. A sun will die and this is the best seat in the house.”

His teeth were made of metal and his eyes were hard like flint.

“This is the best century, really. We read about them all, you know. You’ve still got all the good stuff…”

He breathed in the air and let it out with a satisfied whoosh. As if he hadn’t had the opportunity to do such a thing in a long while.

“Why do you look so glum? Come on, sit with me in the sun.”

He crossed his legs and settled down in a patch of heather.

“The sun isn’t out. It’s night.” I said. “And who are you? This is private property.”

The boy laughed.

“The sun is always out. The sun bathes the earth in rays at all hours. God, you’re so young! The schools were so bad back in the day, wow.��

“I’m literally going to call the police. You seem like a nice kid, but you’ve got to go.”

He snorted and rolled a flower between his fingers.

“Whatever lady. You’ll miss me. And it’s not like I’m going anywhere permanent style. Because this is—you know what. I’m not going to tell you what’s going to happen. You’ll deserve it. Ugh.”

He shook the blindingly bright thing he had in his hand and vanished.

—

The next time I saw him I was 32.

It had been ten years, but there he stood. In the middle of the field. Wearing the same threadbare sweater and trousers I’d met him in.

“Gosh it took you a long time.” He said.

“Who are you? What the fuck. Are you wearing metal dentures?”

The boy looked exceptionally offended.

“Metal dentures? Oh that’s rich. Coming from someone with unprotected decaying bone in their mouth. Thank god I haven’t gotten hurt out here. What would you have tried to do? Cure a broken arm with bloodletting or burned a witch? I should have brought my own first aid kit just in case I have to deal with these primitive medical practices.”

That was a tirade I didn’t expect…

“What time are you from?” I asked.

He rolled his eyes.

“I’m not even going to bother with that.” He said. “Come closer, let me see you. You aged finkin’ well.”

I edged closer to him, but not close enough to let him touch me.

“it’s been like an entire decade.” I said suspiciously.

“I see they at least taught you basic math.” He snorted.

The closer I got the more differences I noticed about him. He looked like he was about the same age, but his clothes were a little thinner, a little more ragged. He had circles beneath his eyes and his skin had a grayish tinge.

“Are you okay?”

He looked at me like I was insane.

“Of course I’m not okay. Clearly, we’re from different times. Clearly I’m from the future. If you were from the future, would you go back to the dark ages to wallow with your ancestors in the mud for fun? I can’t talk to you about this. It’s not like you can do anything about it. Just sit down and look at the goddamn sky with me. This is supposed to be romantic.”

I plopped down beside him and looked up at the stars. I knew I had groceries getting warm in the car, but I figured I could afford to spend at least five minutes with an ageless time wanderer —even if he was rude as hell.

“Okay, you see that dark area over there?” He pointed at the sky. I nodded.

“That’s the way out of this mess.”

“What mess?”

“Everything. All of the problems you have here. I think. I’m really bad at explaining this sort of stuff. I’m not like, the best at politics science or physics. That was more my dad’s thing. I was really only ever into sports.”

“What sport did you play?”

“Upjacket. It’s like a mixture of your baseball and your hockey. But the stakes are higher. You play in antigrav and the first person to score a point wins. It’s like… you start off in teams, but individuals win games, and the more individuals win on each team, the more money the team gets. It was fun. Back when they let us play sports.”

He grinned and looked up at the sky.

“I was gonna go pro. It’s all about agility.”

Suddenly the bright thing in his pocket started rattling wildly.

“Oh shit oh shit. Sorry. I’ve got to go. See you in te—”

He disappeared.

—

I took a train from New York all the way back to Michigan, then a bus out into the country.

The field was empty when I arrived. I sat down in the patch of heather and looked up into the sky.

My heels dug into the soft earth. I was 42.

After about 15 minutes he blinked into view with a hiss and a flash of smoke. The boy immediately bent over and vomited. He fell to his knees and gasped for a while, then spit hard to clear his mouth.

He was thinner than when I saw him last. And his sweater had some holes.

I took off my jacket and handed it to him.

He nodded in thanks and draped it around his shoulders.

“What is your name?” I asked gently.

“It doesn’t matter.” He said. “Nobody cares. Nobody’s cares who I am or why I’m here.”

“I care.” I said. “I have a son not much older than you back home. He just left for college. If you want you can come back with me and—”

“I can’t.” He shouted angrily.

His eyes burned dark and hot. He was sweating a bit, and his hands shook as they grappled the edges of my coat. Pulling it tight.

“I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have touched it. I should have left well enough alone.”

He wasn’t talking to me anymore, he was muttering and looking at the ground.

I shifted over so that we were closer together. I fished a pack of gum out of my purse and offered him a piece.

“What is this?” He looked scared.

“It’s gum. It’s a kind of candy. You just chew it and don’t swallow. It’s okay. It’s… Sweet?” I tried.

He unwrapped it and put it in his mouth.

“Gosh that is the weirdest… It’s like… My mouth was all dry before and I’m not thirsty anymore. But it’s just this strange rubbery…That is so…. I mean, thank you. I really appreciate it.”

He smiled. It was like he hadn’t done it in a while. The corners of his mouth looked like they weren’t sure whether to go up or down.

“I hope this isn’t too forward.” I started. "But do you want a hug?”

He blushed and pushed his hair out of his eyes.

“Of all the tarts in the world, I found a nice sentimental one with candy in her pockets and a wish to take me away.” He laughed. “You can have all the hugs with me you like. It’s not like there’s anyone else around to hug.”

He fit neatly in my arms. He was stronger than I’d expected. More wiry. He smelled like ash, metal and the salt of unwashed skin.

“Do you want to know a secret?” He whispered into the shell of my ear.

“We never did get flying cars or hoverboards. It’s not a lack of technology. It’s got something to do with magnetism. You can’t break the rules of the universe— just bend them. And hover boards? Them’s a rule breakin’ invention.”

I laughed. I laughed and laughed and laughed.

“You’re such a marvel.” I said when I was finished.

He grinned back at me. Brilliant and true. The moonlight shining off his stainless-steel smile.

“I could have been much more.” He said cockily.

“Are you sure you can’t stay?” I asked. “We have a spare room at my house up in New York…”

“No. Darling. You’re old as dirt, but I’m partial to you. I wouldn’t want to break your husband’s heart.” He winked.

I scowled. “Why are you so rude? And how old are you really?”

“You ask the worst questions.” He replied and disappeared.

—

I moved back to Michigan alone and went to the field every night for twenty years. Until my hair turned gray and the hike over wore on my knees.

I kept the grass green and tended the heather.

Like always, the boy arrived with a hiss.

He lay still in the grass.

He was thin and filthy and barely breathing.

I turned him over and pulled him into my arms.

The boy sobbed.

“I couldn’t… I couldn’t… I tried so hard.”

“It’s okay.” I said.

“It’s not. It feels like it’s been days, but it’s probably been years. I just keep spinning round and round and my own window is out of reach. Yours is the closest so I keep landing here on this stupid rock in the middle of the millennium. I just want to go home.” He curled himself up until he was very small.

The bright thing glowed through the pocket of his tattered trousers.

“What does it do?” I asked.

“I don’t know how it works. It’s either broken or half made. It was sitting on my dad’s desk. I just picked it up and shook it.  It pushes me through time back and forth dropping me in different times. It never stops.  I can urge it one way or another, but I can’t drive it or force it anywhere once I make it work. I’ve been trying to get home for weeks.  I just want to go home. I just want to go home. I just want to go home.”

He repeated it over and over until he fell asleep.

I rubbed his back in circles and stared up at the stars until the sun came up from behind the fir trees.

 When I reached down to wake him up, I realized that he would never wake up again.

There was nothing to eat in the void of time, but star dust. Nothing to breathe but radiation.

I buried him in the heather.

—

Ten years later I went back into the field.

Fifty years had passed.

I looked up into the sky.

After a few hours of darkness, light shot out from the black spot the boy had pointed to so many years ago. The noise shattered the sound barrier and solar winds swept the planet. The night sky bled with reds and blues and purples and white. And it was so bright.

[mythbringer-mayhem]

GODDAMNIT

man, I was just scrolling and now I'm a goddamn Raidioapple shipper what the FUCK

Ok ok-

And now I'm going to elaborate just because.

I was expecting someone out there to ship Lucifer and Alastor the second I heard Hell's Greatest Dad. I mean- two people singing/arguing over being father figures? Sounds gay to me /pos. The internet sure does love it's enemies to lovers (me included. I'm hopless lmao.)

BUT. I have specifics for this ship.

I hate it when people just look at Alastor's aromanticism/asexuallity and just go "nah. I'm just gonna do it anyways." I used to headcanon Alastor as complete aroace in the sense that he just can't feel that way for someone (this is not meant to sound like "oh he can't love anyone :( he's incapable" I mean specifically a romantic/sexual relationship.) Then fucking short ass king of hell arrives, and Alastor just IMMEDIATELY chooses violence.

I didn't think much of that besides "oh that's a little interesting," and then I stumbled across Radioapple and had to take a double take. My brain needed to figure out how that would work, like how it would start, flourish, ineract, yadda yadda-

.....so now I consider Alastor Demiromantic-

(I'm still goddamn writing jeez-)

Read on if you like random people looking wayyyyyy too much into fictional characters.

Headcanon timeeeeeeeee

When Lucifer and Alastor first meet, Alastor is surprised Lucifer doesn't know who he is. Up to this point, everyone knows about the terrifying radio demon, so it must be a little weird for someone to be completely ignorant to his existence. Especially when that person should probably know the ins and outs of what's going on- ....because he's the fucking king of hell.

This is something new for Alastor. It made him curious. When you're curious, you try to learn more right? So, Alastor starts pushing Lucifer's buttons, seeing how he reacts. On Lucifer's end, Alastor's just being a smug asshole. However his true intentions are information on the esteemed oh-so-powerful king of hell. Maybe Alastor doesn't quite know where this fascination comes from, but regardless he wants to learn more. I can picture him progressively bothering Lucifer more and more (this is his unique way of getting to know him semi-discreetly)

As well as figuring out what ticks him off, Alastor would also probably passively learn things Lucifer likes. For instance, he finds out what Lucifer's favorite alcoholic drink is or something- bare with me- Let’s say Lucifer has a rough day, and it's very clear to everyone in the hotel. While he's frustrated in his own room, he hears a knock at the door. Answering it, he finds his aforementioned favorite drink. At this point, he wouldn't know who left it. But after a while, he'd be able to figure out it's Alastor through process of elimination. (This is inspired by a comic I saw! :))

Now we've got Alastor trying to discreetly be kind to Lucifer, and Lucifer is aware without his knowledge. And Lucifer would call him out for it lmao. Slowly, they'd start acting friendlier towards each other. It would take a long, long time though. The slowest slow burn of them all. They'd hang out more, do things, kick angel ass, have friendly banter, do stuff with Charlie. Untill Alastor finally realizes that he might have a crush on Lucifer. Though, I feel he'd take a while to fully figure that out, do some soul searching, maybe go to Rosie for advice.

Then they'd confess. Or they wouldn't lol. I can totally see them going on what is essentially a date, even though they just consider it "hanging out". It would be a quiet relationship. Something you'd miss if you aren't looking for it, but it is there. They both just need someone they can rest with in my opinion.

These ideas are probably sporadic and nonsensical- but I ✨️don't care✨️ I just needed to rant about the old timey deer man and the short depressed apple gremlin.

[listofwhyyouloveher]

You are pumping out these request like a machine goddamn😦

Can I get the boys,separate, with a reader that they've known for a long time getting a glow up? Like they never found her attractive or saw her in a romantic light. But one day she BAM glows up, angsty pleeeaaaseee🙏🏽

Summary: In which you glow up after being rejected by your crush

Warnings: angst, no happy ending sorry.

Author's Note: these are all relatively small and under the same premise sorry!

You had liked your greaser friend for a while, like for a REALLY long time. So when you’d finally worked up enough courage to ask him on a date you felt heartbroken when he turned you down. Later you heard it was because you weren’t ‘pretty enough’. Well fuck that! You decided it was your perfect time to start a massive glow up!

PONYBOY CURTIS

As soon as you stepped into the classroom after everyone had returned from spring break, Pony’s jaw dropped. And so did a lot of other’s. You looked like a new person, so much so that he almost didn’t recognize you if not for your jewlery. God, you were gorgeous. He smiled at you, but you seemed to look right past him. He tried talking to you in the halls but nothing worked. You seemed so busy with your new life that you had barely any time for him.

“Hey Y/n, wait up!”

“Oh hey.” You said, not even looking him in the eyes.

“What’s up, you don’t even try to talk to me anymore,” he laughs awkwardly and you shoot him a confused look.

“Why would I?”

“Well, I mean..I thought you liked me?” He asked, and you scoffed.

“Yeah well not anymore,” you said before walking away.

JOHNNY CADE

You were hanging out at the lot by yourself when you turned around to find Johnny staring at you. His mouth was open in shock.

“Y/n?” He asked, truly blown away with how good you looked.

“Hey,” you said, trying to be respectful.

“Oh my god, haven’t seen you since..” his voice trails off and you cringe. The last time you talked to him you confessed and he politely declined, only to go off and laugh at you with Dallas later on.

“Yeah, that was my mistake,” you shrug, completely over him if it wasn’t for the embarrassment of it all.

“Mistake?” He asked, you catch the hurt washing over his face.

“Mhm, one big mistake that I’ll never make again.” You smile at him, milking your revenge for everything it was worth.

“Oh,” he said softly before you shrugged and walked away.

SODAPOP CURTIS

Sodapop was kind of like a big deal because of how good-looking he was. So when you walked into class looking like the next Miss Oklahoma rumours started to spread about how the hottest girl and guy would get together. Soda approached you during lunch, a huge smile plastered on his face.

“Hey, Y/n”. You narrowed your eye before speaking.

“Uh, hi.”

“I was wondering, if maybe you wanted to go to the drive-in with me tomorrow?” He asked. You nearly choked on your own spit.

“Hell no!” You laughed and Soda looked shocked.

“What?”

“I said no, now can you move? You’re in my way” You said before shoulder checking him while walking off.

STEVE RANDLE

Steve had seen you walking down the road looking prettier than the morning sun and was absolutely stunned by how much brighter and happier you looked. Your hair was perfect and so was your skin. He wanted to talk to you but he was too scared, so when he went home he immediately dialed up your number on the nearest pay-phone.

“Hello?” Your voice rang out from the phone and Steve smiled.

“Hey Y/n, uh, it’s me Steve, I saw you walking down the road but was too nervous to talk to you…anyways, would you like to maybe go out sometime?” He rambled into the phone, expecting you to jump on his offer like you would’ve when you confessed. Instead you just sighed,

“Pussy” and the phone clicked signalling that you hung up, leaving him standing there in shock.

TWO BIT MATTHEWS

You had always admired Two-Bit’s humor, but now it was too much. He was going around town telling people how he always knew you’d end up pretty and that you were going to practically run back into his arms when he asks you out. You cringed just thinking about ‘running into his arms’. So when you saw Two-Bit walking with his gang you took your chance.

“Two-Bit!” You called from across the street, running over to him. You watched as his guys hyped him up and he nudged them with an ‘I told you so’ look.

“Hey Y/n, how’s it been?”

“Good! Been hearing a lot about you recently.” You feigned a smile.

“Really? Like what?” he smirked.

“Like the fact you're telling people that I'd got ‘running into your arms if you gave me the chance’! Which is why I'm actually talking to you right now, I’d like to clear the air and say I'm totally over you. I know my league and you are definitely below it! Bye!” You giggled before running off, leaving him standing in shock with his gang.

DARRY CURTIS

You had known Darry in high-school. He was popular and you were not, so it made sense that he rejected you. However when you saw him approaching you at the drive in, the pain and embarrassment came crashing back down on you.

“Y/n,” he said to you, as if testing the waters. You nodded in his direction before turning your attention back towards the screen.

“How have you been, you, uh, you look good.” He said awkwardly and you glance at him.

“I'm fine.” You tensed up when he sat next to you.

“Hey, uh, do you….are you free next week?” He asked hopefully and you scoffed.

“Hell no”

“Really Y/n? Is this all because I rejected you?” You glared at him, livid over the fact that he would bring that up. “Look, I was under a lot of pressure.. I'm sorry”

“Doesn't make it hurt any less.” You mumbled before getting out of your seat and leaving the drive in.

DALLAS WINSTON

Dally only likes pretty chick's, and you learned that after he whistled at you as you passed. You of course returned the favor by shouting a harsh ‘fuck off!’ which left him open-mouthed in shock.

“Y/n?” he asked, a grin starting to form on his face.

“What,” you glared at him, eyes narrowing in anger.

“Damn, you look good!” He said, taking a step closer to you and examining you.You got pissed and pushed him back away from you.

“What? I'm just tryna compliment you!” He said, stumbling back.

“Fuck off, Dallas. I mean it.” You snapped at him before stalking away.

[yuri-is-online]

When I first listened to all the Kendrick Lamar distracts, I got so excited that I literally had the urge to just make out with somebody (I did not. There was no one else in the room) just to get all the energy out. But like. Imagine that with JadeYuu for a second. Imagine being do hyped up over some music that you just pull him into an impronto make out session. You don't even really care to get his reaction or freak out that you just kissed your crush and fucked up whatever weird floaty situationship yall got going on, your still too excited and bouncing around n shit. That's not getting the energy out tho so might as well kiss him again, right? Maybe give him a hickey or three, who knows at this point.

Bro is dead. Bro is dead and in some sort of strange purgatory. You just kissed him. You kissed him. It's not how he planned for it to go, but damn if he doesn't like seeing you being all out of control and excited, something very different from your usual disposition. Seeing you take charge like that... and your first reaction was to kiss him? Quite passionately too, multiple times too. He is dead. He is in heaven because this was something straight out of a dream. He's is in hell because that was supposed to stay a dream and he was supposed to be all romantic for your first kiss, he doesn't even really know if you'll ever talk about this again...

Well. He doesn't want that. So might as well set you straight.

This ask is so old I am so sorry Confused.

But this situation is so funny to think about with JadeYuu. There's a party in Scarabia and everyone is like "better keep an eye on Floyd hahaha no telling what he's gonna do" nope. It's JADE who's acting the fool? Jade is so collected, he's supposed to be the neat twin. The unproblematic looking twin. And sure Yuu has some problems but everyone seems to think of them as super responsible so why, pray tell, are they making out viciously- great seven did Jade just moan? In front of everyone? I think he's got his hands under the prefect's shirt and goddamn they are just biting the shit out of his neck, they aRE DRAWING BLOOD and oh thank god it's over. No Azul, you don't need to pay us off that was traumatic we aren't gonna say shit, look even the Prefect doesn't know what's gotten into them-

Oh Jade looks super happy though. He looks drunk and I don't think he tried any of the punch. Wait is he- nope. Not gonna think about why Jade's taking the prefect towards the rooms, you still offering that cash Azul? Jamil is going to need the harder stuff to get over this.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

Tonight Isn't The Night

Day #7 - Prompt: Celebrate Good Times, C'mon | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Older Steddie, Man Plans and God Laughs, Grand Romantic Gesture

Eddie wants it all to be perfect. This has been a long fucking time coming, and if he fucks it up at the last second, he'll never forgive himself. Jeff and Goodie are playing chauffeur, picking Steve up at the airport under an elaborate ruse.

They're supposed to keep him busy, and then drop him off at the arena to meet up with Eddie, pre-show. Eddie rented an event space, and Gareth is helping him try to get it ready.

Eddie planned all of this. 

But Eddie's nervous. 

Gareth is crawling around the room, stringing lights so it'll be romantic, and Eddie's gonna owe that kid. That kid is forty, and a dad to two, but still. Crawling on the floor sounded like hell on Eddie's worn-out body, so Gareth had gotten down and was doing it without complaint.

They don't have time to complain. Not when Steve will be at the arena in t-minus two hours. And Eddie will need to be there, if he doesn't want Steve to realize something is up. 

Eddie watches Gareth crawl out from under a table, and Eddie wishes he was still that goddamn spry. He used to be. He used to be made of elastic, Uncle Wayne always said so. But those days, and those muscles, are long gone, eaten away by bats over two decades ago.

Eddie's hip is killing him today. As if the Upside Down has decided to rear its ugly head again, just because he's so fucking happy. It's bullshit. 

He doesn't want to take anything that might dim his memory, not today, so he takes three ibuprofen and calls it good. That will have to do. 

The ring is burning a hole in his pocket. He keeps palming it, checking, double-checking, just to make sure it's still there.

It is. 

The small box, hard against his thigh.

He's gonna ask tonight. After the show, when they're alone. He's gonna take him back to this venue, take him up on the roof and while meteors fall from the sky, he's gonna ask Steve to marry him. 

When Jeff opens the door, he's making a face that Eddie doesn't understand, not until he sees Steve.

Steve's in a bad mood, a terrible one, actually, and Eddie cups his hand over the ring box. Tonight isn't the night. Goddammit. When Steve stomps off to the bathroom, Eddie fishes the box out of his jeans pocket, and tucks it into his jacket.

"What are you gonna do now?" Gareth asks, in an alarmed whisper. 

Nothing. He'll do nothing. 

He'll listen to Steve rant and rave. He'll be here, and present, not at all thinking about the thousands of twinkling lights or meteors up above.

It's not the night. 

After the show, Steve's still pissy. The ride back to the hotel is filled with Steve bitching and moaning, and Eddie knows better than to try and offer any suggestions, not while Steve's like this. This is just venting, and if anyone knows about venting, it's Eddie. He's made it an art form over the years.

But right now, it's Steve's turn. 

And Eddie listens.

Steve's mid-rant, when he looks out the window, "Hey. Shooting star."

Then, "Oh. Another."

"There's a meteor shower tonight," Eddie explains. 

"And you didn't make plans to view it?" Steve asks, because he knows Eddie, and this is a thing they've done dozens, maybe hundreds, of times over the past two and half decades. 

"Well, a little, but you're not in the mood for that tonight," Eddie says, trying not to sound disappointed. 

He isn't.

No, he is. He really is. But he understands. Life doesn't always go your way. Some days, you're nearly eaten by bats. Others, your marriage proposal gets scrapped. Eddie's used to be fucked by life, well and good and raw, by now. 

Steve looks over at him, "I'm not in that bad of a mood. We can still look at the sky," Steve offers, and Eddie would like that. He really, really would. But he can't take Steve there. It's too much, too over the top, and he'll immediately suss out what was really on the agenda for the night. Then he'll beat himself up for ruining it. 

So, no. They can't go there.

They end up out in the parking lot of the hotel, sitting in a patch of grass that Eddie's pretty sure other people probably let their dogs piss in. But Steve's leaning against him, and that's always gonna make for a nice night.

It's quiet, and peaceful, neither of them saying a word, until Steve suddenly says, "We should get married."

And Eddie nearly chokes. 

"What, you don't want to?" Steve questions.

"Steve Harrington, I'm gonna kill you, and then I'm gonna marry you. No, I'm gonna marry you, and then I'm gonna kill you. I had a whole night planned. And then, well," Eddie says, waving his arms around Steve's head. "Pissy. So. Postponed."

Steve is just looking at him.

Eddie keeps ranting, mocking, "We should get married."

Steve smiles, and Eddie digs in his jacket pocket, handing over the velvet box, "Here. We're engaged."

Steve throws back his head and laughs, absolutely delighted and it's contagious. Eddie has to laugh, too. He's not mad. He's frustrated. 

He's in love, and not even a little surprised. Nothing ever goes his way. He has the opposite of the Midas touch. 

Except. He gets to love Steve Harrington. 

And that's a pretty big win.

After a beat, Eddie says, "Please don't tell Gareth that this happened in the hotel parking lot. He crawled all over, stringing lights, and I'll never hear the end of it."

Steve laughs, and then kisses him, "I'll never tell."

And he doesn't. There's an elaborate romantic story that's fed to Gareth and the public, but it's not the truth. Not a word.

But that's okay. That just means the real deal is only theirs. 

A secret between them, the stars, and the dog piss-soaked grass. 

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

[ophelia-writes-fics]

hold me close and hold me fast [alec hardy x reader]

It's winter in Broadchurch, and you've noticed a habit of Alec's.

Tags: GN!reader, fluff, romantic fluff, established relationship

Word Count: ~900

TWs/CWs: none, this is pure self-indulgent fluff :)

It was another frigid Broadchurch winter. The entire town had been covered in a blanket of snow and ice that was six inches thick and refusing to let up anytime soon. But despite the endless bad weather, life didn’t stop, so every morning you went to work as usual, and Alec went to the police station. He worked long, exhausting hours, and he was usually either gone before you woke up or out until after you went to bed.

You always knew exactly when he came home on late nights, though. Because if Alec was one thing, it was a goddamn stubborn bastard, and he was a stubborn bastard who refused to wear gloves, a scarf, or a hat in the winter. 

No matter how much you pestered him about it, no matter how you insisted he’d get cold, he would swear up and down that a coat was enough and he “didn’t need all that stuff”. And yet, every single night that winter, he’d come home, change into pajamas, climb into bed with you, and put his freezing cold hands under your shirt to warm them up. 

It would have annoyed the hell out of you, but when you finally confronted him about it, he looked so taken aback that you realized he’d had no idea he was doing it. Still, he’d apologized, and from then on, every time he came in late, he’d be absolutely sure that his hands were kept outside of your clothes. 

That is, while he was awake. 

After another few nights of being woken up by freezing hands clutching your chest, you quickly came to a conclusion: whether he wanted to or not, Alec would subconsciously seek out your body heat to warm himself up the moment he drifted off to sleep. 

As the weather got colder and colder, you woke up dozens of times to Alec holding you close like you were a teddy bear - every limb wrapped around you, ice-cold hands under your shirt, his face buried in the crook of your neck. It didn’t even bother you anymore. It was adorable, honestly. You knew he’d get all prickly and deny it if you told him, but he really was such a sweetheart, even in his sleep. The peaceful look on his face as he cuddled you made your heart melt every damn time, and no amount of cold hands could compare to how much you loved seeing him happy. 

Still, you really wished he would wear some damn gloves once in a while; if not for you, then to avoid getting frostbite when it was below zero outside. So, that winter, you decided to take matters into your own hands. 

You took your knitting bag everywhere you went, working on your projects whenever you had downtime, making sure Alec never saw what you were working on. Within a couple of weeks, you had a hat, a thick scarf, and a pair of mittens all completed, so you decided on a plan: on your day off, you’d wait until Alec left for work, then wrap the gift and meet him down at the police station to surprise him. And that was exactly what you did. 

---

“Darlin’, what’s goin’ on? What’re you doing here?” A worried look crossed Alec’s face as he met you at the door. 

“No, everything’s all right! Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” you reassured him, giving his hand a comforting squeeze. “I brought you a gift and figured I’d surprise you, that’s all!” 

You handed him the small parcel and watched with anticipation as he opened it, revealing the multicolored pile of warm winter clothes. 

He was quiet for a moment. 

“Do you like them?” you asked, a bit nervously. 

He looked up at you, a shocked smile on his face. “Did you make all this?” 

You nodded, and before you knew it, Alec was at your side, embracing you so tightly your feet left the ground for a moment. 

“They’re beautiful, love,” Alec murmured, still smiling as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

Your heart fluttered with pride. 

---

The next morning, you were at the breakfast table when Alec was leaving for work. Something was different this morning, however. 

“Hmm, someone seems to be dressed rather warmly today,” you teased gently. “Whatever happened to ‘Oh, I just need a coat, darling, I’ll be fine without a hat or a scarf or gloves’?”

He gave you a playful glance of warning, then smiled. “Well, someone put a lot of effort into making sure I’ll be warm, and it’d be a shame to let all that beautiful work go to waste, hmm?” He leaned in and caressed your cheek as he kissed you goodbye, whispered a quick ‘I love you’, then he was gone. 

---

As the winter wore on, it was much the same as all the winters before it, except two things had changed. 

One, Alec never left the house without the winter clothes you’d made him. He treasured them, and you could always tell - he handled them with so much care, folding them gently every night when he got home and running a loving hand over them every now and then when he thought you wouldn’t notice. 

And two, Alec never came home with freezing cold hands again. 

And you were absolutely delighted to find out that even when he kept warm during the day, he still held you close in his sleep, every single night.

A/N: thank you for reading! i know this is a shorter one and it's a bit silly. honestly, i really just wanted to give alec some love, he's such a sweetheart and the poor thing needs a break lmao. i'll be back soon with some smut! as always, feel free to like/rb/comment/whatever else, and my requests are always open! :)

🍓 this fic's title is from the english version of 'la vie en rose' 🍓

[procyonloser]

Mini au fic IDK. Pre adamsapple. Divorced Dad Adam. Modern/Human Au

Old man yaoi

Adam picked up Abel, who was still sniffing even as he latched onto Adam's leg. Cain, on the other hand, was glowering up at his brother, still holding onto his backpack and clearly not wanting to go. Admittedly, Adam wasn't happy about being here at fucking 2 in the goddamn morning either.

"Sorry," Charlie said, lisping a bit since she'd gotten braces. She might have tried to look goth, but she was still a theater kid at heart. "In school, everyone was talking about this new movie...I mentioned it to the twins, it sounded like they wanted to see it."

"I did want to see it." Cain complained, siding with his step sister and looking put out.

"Yeah, well, Abel pissed himself in fear, so maybe no fucking slasher movies for kids under 10?" Adam huffed, readjusting Abel on his hip so the kid wasn't strangling him. "Where's your mom?"

"On a date, in the city. They were dressed all fancy and left in a really cool car." Cain said glumly.

"Wouldn't take us with."

Yeah, no shit, Adam thought to himself. He couldn't imagine a worse hell than a romantic date with two 7 year olds tagging along the entire time.

"Why don't you have any cars like that?" Cain asked him.

"Because your mom took all my shit in the divorce, and then married a rich fuck." Adam said in feigned sweetness. Charlie looked upset, eyebrows fitting together, but she was all of 13, and she knew just as well as he did that her mom Lilith was Adam's other ex wife. So, he had reason to be annoyed. "Now get your shit and get in the car, we're going home. It's too late at night for this and your brother is going to need therapy."

"The monster that lived under his bed ate out the man's eyeballs." Abel mumbled into his shoulder. Great, Adam wasn't going to sleep alone for a year.

"You suck, I wish Lucifer was my dad..." Cain stomped down the front steps with as much force as a 7 year old could muster. Adam rolled his eyes, but before he could open his mouth again, a candyapple red car came screaming up the very long driveway.

"Fuck," Adam whispered under his breath. "Here we go again."

Lucifer practically jumped out of the front seat, running up the sidewalk looking concerned, but his tie was noticeably loose, and the buttons on his shirt weren't in the right spot. There was what a bit on lipstick on his neck.

"I got your message, Charlie, is everything alright?" Lucifer asked, looking at his daughter in worry. "No one is hurt, are they?"

"Everything is fine," Adam cut her off, glaring down at the older man. "Abel got scared, I'm taking the boys home."

Lucifer looked between him and the boys, frown curling his expression downwards. "Oh no, that's too bad. I'm so sorry to hear that, I was really looking forward to the weekends they were here..."

Not enough to stop you from going out and plowing Eve on a Friday night, Adam thought in smoldering anger. He'd had to drive all the way across town to drop them off, only to come back in the middle of the fucking night for them.

"Yeah, I had the rest of the weekend planned. Homemade pancakes and waffles with whipped cream and fruit, then I was going to take them to LuLuWorld, and then I was going to let them pick out any toy set they wanted." Lucifer listed off, seemingly legitimately upset by the news. Abel's head picked up off of Adam, and he looked at his step father in sudden fixation.

Eve got out of the car, glare fixed on Adam before rounding it to wrap her arm through Lucifer's. She sure as fuck never wore any dresses like that when he'd been married to her.

"Well, if the boys want to stay with Adam, that's fine. Nothing wrong with that, Charlie likes to stay at her mother's some days too." Eve practically purred, running a finger along Lucifer's jaw. Lucifer looked up at her with adoration that made Adam's stomach turn. How long had it been since he and Lucifer had been friends?

"I think I'm okay now," Abel said, pushing to get down on the ground. Adam let him go, and Abel ran over to his step sister's side, which caused Cain to do the same. "Yeah, I'm totally okay now. Thanks Dad, see you again Monday!"

"Or never, we could just stay here," Cain said under his breath, but Adam heard it anyway.

"Oh good!" Lucifer said, turning to smile at Adam, like he was doing him some kind of favor. "I'm sure you're happy to get your weekends back! I'm sure you're busy."

Eve scoffed, and Adam boiled below the surface.

"Fucking whatever man." Adam turned to walk towards his car, but Eve stopped him with a small smile on her painted lips. Lucifer was already leading the kids back into the house, promising them popcorn and a happier movie to watch.

"Maybe we should rethink custody arrangements?" Eve raised her eyebrow at him, a sly smile darkening her features. "The twins seem much happier here."

Adam fumed, marching up to get in her face, not afraid of how it looked. "Fuck. You. You didn't even want them. I had to fucking beg you to take them on the weekends because they wanted their mom. You're not taking them from me."

Eve didn't seem bothered by his response. "Looks like I already have." She flipped her hair over her shoulder and sauntered back into the house, only sending one last parting message to him. "By the way, Adam? He's bigger."

The door shut behind her, and Adam was left outside, cold, in the dark, and pondering arsony.

"Maybe I'll fucking steal him from you, see how you like it!" Adam shouted at the front door, hands balled up into fists at his sides. "I can't fucking wait until you're miserable and I'm the one sucking his fucking soul out through his co-"

The door creaked back open, and Lucifer looked out of it, brows furrowed. "...Uh...the kids can hear you."

Adam turned bright red from embarrassment. "Fucking good! I'm glad!"

Lucifer stared at him. "... Right, goodnight, Adam."

With that the door shut, and Adam got back into his car, slamming the door closed, and then hitting his head against the steering wheel about fifty times.

First loves sucked. Second loves sucked more. Third loves sucked hardest.

He hoped his ramen in the microwave hadn't gotten mushy.

[saccharineomens]

A small Chainsaw Man Analysis

They're referencing this post:

(Sorry i can't respond to your ask directly, tumblr kept crashing)

LMAO ok Anon you win but I can’t promise this will be very articulate or coherent

Ok so when I first heard about Chainsaw Man I heard it was The Manga Of All Time and the anime has been Majorly Hyped and Everyone Loves It so I was curious. Then I went and watched the anime and I was like ‘huh ok I mean. It’s good but it’s not like mindblowing.’

Then I read the manga all the way to the end of part 1 and I understood.

So the world of Chainsaw Man is set in a Fucking Bleak reality. Like, overwhelmingly so. The fact that devils exist and can murder humans on a whim and it’s basically treated as an unavoidable inconvenience because how the hell can you stop them, really, when they’re functionally immortal? The best you can do is kill them, send them to Hell, and hope they don’t die there and revive back on Earth. The protagonist is a 16 year old orphan who sold parts of his body to pay off a “noodle incident” debt inherited from his father, and then the kid was murdered by the yakuza he owed money to because they decided they liked devils, actually, and didn’t want him around killing them. In CHAPTER ONE. Why would anyone enjoy reading about a story set in a world like this?

Because of Aki, and Power, and the family Denji created with them. It takes a while for the ball to get rolling in the story, because they’re strangers at the beginning, but any manga reader is gonna know what I mean when I talk about how they love each other. Denji comes across as a sex-obsessed, horny teen, but that’s just because he craves emotional intimacy and sex is the only way he thinks he could get it. The truth is that his shower/bath with Power was the exact kind of vulnerability and intimacy he was craving, and it WASN’T sexy. The narrative didn’t treat it as sexy. Denji even notes that it wasn’t sexy, to his surprise, but it was nice to be able to be vulnerable with another person. Then there’s Aki, who imprinted on Denji and Power so hard he straight-up was considering quitting being a devil hunter so he could just live a normal life with his new family. He was willing to abandon his obsession with the gun devil, something that he’d been driving his will to live for years, for them. It was Himeno’s death and the letter he read that made him realize that the life of a country mouse might not be so bad, if it’s with the people he loves. (I know that’s a loaded sentence out of context but manga readers know what I mean when I bring up the country mouse, right)

I bring all of this up to show how even in a grim, dark, depressing world like Chainsaw Man, there is hope; and that hope comes in the form of love. Love in a general, not romantic, sense. Love of having toast and jam for breakfast, love of a movie, love of a family.

Now, to Makima.

Makima is Really Fucking Goddamn Powerful. She is literally reality breaking, almost as much as Chainsawman. (For the purposes of this essay, I’m referring to Pochita/Chainsawman and Denji as separate entities.) Makima is able to control anyone so long as she feels she has power over them, and she has a contract with the fucking Prime Minister. That’s a terrifying power. She’s literally the manifestation of the fear of being controlled.

And that’s a lonely existence.

Pochita/Chainsawman says it himself. When you’re so powerful, you struggle to make connections with people. Either they worship you and put you on a pedestal, or they fear you. You can’t get close to anyone, no matter how hard you try. The only way Pochita was able to do so was because Denji had no idea who Chainsawman was.

Makima doesn’t show this emotional weakness of hers, because it directly opposes her powers. If people saw her as needing connections with other people, they wouldn’t respect/fear her, and she would literally become weaker as a result. (The same way that as Chainsawman becomes more beloved by the general populace as a Hero, he becomes weaker.) But there’s a point where we, the audience, get to see this side of her. In her date with Denji.

Quick recap (of one of the best chapters in the whole manga, thematically): Denji and Makima go on a date at a movie theater. They sit and watch like six movies in a row over the course of the day. The first five are packed with people and are funny/entertaining, but not very deep. Neither Denji nor Makima are very impressed with these. Then…I’ll just post the comic here.

The final movie they see is more of an indie arthouse film. Most importantly, it shares an intimate, vulnerable moment between two people who hug. Denji cries because he sees this thing he craves, as I’ve elaborated on. Then he looks over and sees that Makima is also crying. We already know why, as Pochita said: she is unable to get close to anyone, due to the nature of her powers and the nature of her being a devil. Because of this, Makima craves connections with other people.

Makima straight up tells the audience why she’s doing the things she’s doing. If she has control over Chainsawman, she can have him eat other devils and create a world where those fears never existed. She truly, honestly believes this would make a happier life for humans. But the problem with that mentality is that in a world without bad things, in a world without fear…there’s no good things, either. How do you tell how “good” a good thing is, if you have nothing to compare it against? How can you tell that one in five movies is “good”, if you don’t experience the other four?

Why would anyone enjoy reading about a story set in a world like this? Because despite all of the horrible things that happens, love exists. It shows up over and over and over again. Love exists. It was there. It mattered. It was worth fighting for.

That brings me to the conversation between Makima and Denji I love so much, and why the end of Part 1 works so well.

Makima thinks that a world without bad movies fear would be better. She thinks that in this world, she could be loved. She thinks that in this world, humans could be happy forever because they never suffer hardship.

And Denji knows for a fact that that's wrong, because without bad movies, the good movies don't stand out. You can't say that jam and toast is a great breakfast if all you've ever eaten is jam and toast for breakfast.

And that's why Makima is tragic (because she's never experienced the love that Denji has, and never experienced the hardships he has), and that's why Makima is wrong.

And all of this, the whole conflict of the story, is summed up in three lines between Denji and Makima in a graveyard. It's perfect.

[jerzwriter]

Thank you to @snoopdogcone for this ask. For @choicesprompts Flufftober event: Drunken confessions. This is a follow-up (of sorts) to Edenbrook Mysteries: The Secret Admirer

Book: Open Heart (Post Series) Characters: Tobias Carrick & Ethan Ramsey Rating: Teen Words: 751 Summary: Tobias & Ethan remain behind at the bar after a retirement party ends, and Tobias has some news to share.

A/N: Participating in @choicesmonthlychallenge Laughter & warm hugs.

My Masterlist | OH Masterlist

The crowd at the dimly lit bar had thinned out, and the raucous laughter that had filled the air just hours before had been replaced with the soothing sounds of a jazz trio and ambient chatter. But as Ethan and Tobias were about to make clear, the reasons to celebrate this evening were far from over. With car service lined up, they ordered another round despite their dubious state.

“I still can’t believe Dr. Santos is... retiring,” Ethan slurred, raising his glass to his colleague. “The man’s in his prime!”

"In his prime?" Tobias chuckled, though nothing funny had been said. “The man’s old as dirt.”

“He’s seventy-three!” Ethan replied, looking offended.

“Right,” Tobias smirked, sipping his whisky. “Practically a schoolboy.”

“Speaking of schoolboys,” Ethan nudged. “I heard you have some competition! Has Connor stopped laying it on thick with Casey?”

Tobias snorted. “Oh, yeah! My 10-year-old romantic rival? I’m taking that kid down, don’t you worry.”

“Do you expect me to be impressed?” Ethan teased. “You can one-up a fourth-grader. What are you going to do? Distract him with Fortnite?”

Tobias shook his head, giggling in a way that only occurred when he had a few too many. “Nope,” he said, leaning into Ethan. “I’m doing something BIGGER. WAY bigger. And I need you to do it.”  

Ethan quirked an eyebrow. “Are you propositioning me, Carrick?”

Tobias laughed so hard he almost spilled his drink. “You fucking wish! No! I’m not propositioning you, Ethan. But... there is a question involved.”

“Well, in advance, you’re not my type,” Ethan deadpanned.

“Well, I will be on Saturday,” Tobias brimmed with excitement. “Because I need your help. I’m going ring shopping... for Casey, and I want you to come along with me.”

Ethan’s eyes went wide, and it felt like he sobered right up. “Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack,” Tobias said, his voice more level. “I’m proposing to Casey, and you’re the first to know.”

Ethan broke into a smile. “You haven’t even told your mother? She’ll kill me if she finds out I knew before her!”

“Don’t worry,” Tobias chuckled with a pat on his friend’s back. “I’ll protect you... I need a best man, after all.”

Ethan turned toward Tobias, his face softened. “Your best man? Me?”

“Yeah,” Tobias grinned. “You were like a brother to me for a long time... and I think we’ve gotten back to that... in large part because of Casey, it only seems right.”

“I... I don’t know what to say,” Ethan muttered.

“Say yes! Just like I hope Casey will,” Tobias laughed.

“Of course, yes!” Ethan grinned, reaching out to shake Tobias’s hand.

“None of that handshake crap,” Tobias scoffed, pulling him into a hug. “This is bro-hug territory, buddy.”

“God, you’re insufferable,” Ethan muttered, but it didn't stop him from hugging.

“Goddamn! Tobias Carrick proposing, and hell hasn’t even frozen over!”

“Yeah, well, that’s probably due to global warming,” Tobias grinned. “But you’ve got to admit, I’ve changed.”

“Because Casey’s a miracle worker, in and out of the hospital,” Ethan smiled. “She made an honest man out of you, after all!”

“She’s the best,” Tobias said softly, his smile tender. “I love her, Ethan. More than I thought possible.”

A slow grin spread over Ethan’s face. “So, Saturday. What do you need me for? Moral support? Picking out engagement rings isn’t something I have a lot of experience with.”

“And I do,” Tobias laughed. “If I’m going to be a bumbling idiot, I want you to be by my side... being a bigger bumbling idiot.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Anytime,” Tobias grinned. “Regardless, it’s going to be a great day!”

“It will be. Hey, Bartender!” Ethan called out with a wicked grin. “Another round! My friend’s getting married!”

Tobias laughed, waving him off. “You know what? Maybe we’re done with that part of the night. Besides, she has to say yes first.”

“Do you think there’s any doubt of that?” Ethan asked.

Tobias shrugged, flashing a grin. “Nah. I mean... look at this. How could she resist?”

“Aaand, there’s the Carrick we all know,” Ethan teased.

When they stumbled out of the bar, it felt like they were back in med school. Their laughter barrelled down Boston’s dark streets as if the years of troubles between them had all but washed away. Having Casey in his life was the best thing that ever happened to Tobias; he’d never deny that. But Ethan being his best friend again? It was a pretty darn close second.

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

[issa-pheonyx]

Since you did goth yan what if you did a twist on that and did goth reader ?? 😵‍💫

Could be paired with any character but im imagining re2 leon being both really attracted to but also really scared of the reader

𝗜 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗮 𝘆𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗲𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝗴𝗼𝘁𝗵 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝗿 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗜 𝗿𝗲𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴𝗴𝗲𝗱, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱! 𝗜 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘁 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗴𝗼𝘁𝗵!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗽𝘂𝗽𝗽𝘆 𝗟𝗲𝗼𝗻. 𝗦𝗼, 𝗹𝗲𝘁'𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝗴𝗶𝗻~👀🖤

▌│█║▌║▌║ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ ║▌║▌║█│▌

-Okay, to start off with people (friends and his coworkers at the department) would find it both strange, yet curious based on witnessing you guys standing together. The rookie with a goth? Now way-oh you were not joking. How the hell was he able to even talk to someone so highly different?

-Now crushing on you may have been the way you were attractively intimidating from the looks seeing how he never met someone like yourself in his life. Of course, there are trolls who have talk shit on the stereotypes which you were not phased by it (as you should💅🏽) , however the rookie cop was not having it, defending you like a guarded puppy to you

-He sees you that you are really talented and protective of your creativity amongst the arts, having strengths of independence and respect for all aesthetics even for being called a 'weirdo' for being goth, etc. He would praise and worship you for having such a unique style and do not let anyone get to you, because those who are basic or just have no taste would usually copy off or project themselves onto you, because you happily and lovingly express yourself

-As more to discuss on the being scared of you part, yes, not going to lie he was shitting bricks when he made the first move. Lets say a scenario of you being involved in a scene saving someone's life who had a knife, but you were not afraid and had the courage to fight off the bastard and wield a pocket knife like it's nothing. He thought you were scary cause how did you get him pinned and second of all what the fuck was the knife doing against his neck you could just threw it aside until the cops came

-So, yes he is scared of you cause of the 'the more you fuck around, the more you're going to find out' energy you hold and having the biggest dick energy cause goddamn you is the shit and you can pull your own weight. Sure, he had stalked caught you intruding an abandoned cathedral, because it looked so pretty outside you just want to see inside so badly. This was a good excuse for him to talk to you more and more as you both walked around, you're taking pictures and videos here and there, and he sticks around you like a damn puppy smiling as you tell him more about your style cause he is genuinely curious

-You and him developed a genuine friendship since you were usually just known as the goth instead of you as a person with other individuals/groups. Leon really wanted to get to know you more and more, but the issue is there are people who will find ways to pick on you both. Leon as the rookie cop and you as the goth crush. People would laugh at the thought of him taking a liking of you cause again you guys are opposites

-Thankfully, you would shut them down with respect, maturity, and boldness in which they immediately have their tail between their legs. Leon would try to be light and taken jokingly on their statements (even when they're genuinely rude) which pisses you off, because hey Leon that wasn't a joke they are actually being assholes. So, I guess right then and there the platonic bond turned to a romantic one-developing feelings for you, because you not only express your love and creativity for your gothic aesthetic, but more as a human being who respects those who deserve it and calls out those who are undeserving of it

-You were also developing feelings for Leon too. In denial at first thinking it could be a dumb crush and you will get over with it. But, no it was real, because he sticks with you again like a damn pup you know the routine and defends you whenever someone disrespects or criticize you. He knows you. Everything about you and knows whatever bullshit they're saying is not true. You always had defend other people who you gave so much respect only to be betrayed, because you will be always the weirdo to them. Not as (Y/N)....

▌│█║▌║▌║ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ ║▌║▌║█│▌

𝗧𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴! 𝗜 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝘁. 𝗠𝘆 𝘂𝗽𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗱𝗼 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮 𝗳𝗮𝗶𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴. 𝗦𝗹𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹~🖤🫣